BEGINS CATALOGUE OF CANADIAN PLANTS 215 



six pounds in weight, on the bank and, in a few minutes, he had 

 quite enough to last us for some time. At this time, trout-fishing 

 on the Nipigon River was an established fact and many fisher- 

 men from Toronto came there and camped on the river, near 

 where we had camped. In due course, we reached the lake 

 and kept up the right hand shore. I soon saw that it was an 

 immense body of water, far beyond anything I had imagined, so 

 I gave up the thought of going around it and we headed for islands 

 we saw in the distance. We reached there safely and camped, 

 and, in the morning, a storm commenced which lasted twodays 

 and nights and we were unable to leave. The wind, when it did 

 fall, was so strong that the Indian was afraid to start back as the 

 wind was in our face, but advised me to go from island to island 

 in the direction of Nipigon House, which was an establishment of 

 the Hudson's Bay Company. This trip, in crossing the wide 

 stretch of water, was the worst I ever experienced in a birch bark 

 canoe. The waves were high, with the usual white caps, and we 

 had much difficulty in making a crossing, but, by good luck, we 

 reached the Barns and, from there, the next day, we reached the 

 Hudson's Bay Post. 



On our return from there, we came down the lake on the Hud- 

 son's Bay boat and were quite comfortable as it was a large yacht. 

 While crossing the lake in the Hudson's Bay boat, my son was at 

 his fishing again and caught a fine salmon trout, which was lost 

 by the man who tried to gaff it. When we reached Nipigon, on 

 our return, we found a boat ready to sail for Ross Bay on the 

 north shore of Lake Superior. At this time, Ross Bay was the 

 headquarters of the contractor for the railway, Mr. James Ross, 

 and I got permission from him to walk down the line from there 

 to Missinabie. At this time, most of the road for the C.P.R. was 

 under contract and the men were working every few miles except 

 one longer stretch where it was just a blazed path. I engaged a 

 man called Fred to carry our blankets and, like heroes, my son 

 and I started off on foot with him to travel over one hundred 

 miles. I remember, in crossing the bridge at the Pic, we had a 

 good deal of difficulty but managed to keep out of the water and, 

 about a quarter of a mile beyond, we came on a camp where I 



