A FALL HUNTING TRIP. 91 



trestle bridge and the boat-house, disappeared behind us 

 and we were fairly off. I wanted to push on as far as 

 possible before dark, hoping to take advantage of the good 

 weather, for the two lakes through which our course lay 

 are often, at this season, impracticable for days together 

 for such small craft as the canoe. But although the even- 

 ing had settled to fine, the dark came early, and soon we 

 were obliged to camp at a spot called Woody Island, which 

 lies at the eastern end of Terra Nova Lake. 



The next morning we were up before the dawn, but the 

 weather had changed during the night, and no sooner were 

 we afloat than the sky became overcast, the north-west wind 

 rose, bringing with it squalls of snow, and, a much more 

 awkward fact to face, showed a tendency to veer still more 

 to the west, a development which would deprive us of the 

 shelter of the wooded northern shore, if it did not, as was 

 likely, altogether prevent our progress. In such weather 

 the big boat had the best of it, for the lop of the water 

 greatly retarded the canoe, while we, although we took our 

 share of the lake aboard, were able to make a straighter 

 course. 



At the head of the Terra Nova Lake, where Frank 

 Wells and his partner, Robert Brooking, had some traps, 

 we espied a lynx, which had dragged a trap down to the 

 sandy shore. We landed, and one of the men killed it, 

 leaving it for Brooking to skin on his next rounds. We 

 passed from Terra Nova Lake into George's Pond and 

 rowed up it, hugging the shore, beneath the dense forests 

 of spruce and juniper which descend almost to the water ; 

 and sundown found us, the lake safely astern, making our 

 way up a dark and rather swiftly-running brook, where 

 the trees rocked and moaned above our heads in a manner 

 that proved how lucky we had been in getting across the 

 lakes before the squall rose to its strength. 



We had some little trouble with the unwieldy flat boat 



