Sfort in an Untouched A merican U 'ilderness 



upper waters. In order to reach the limit 

 of navigation, the canoemen will be com- 

 pelled to drag the boat over many miles 

 of shallow bars, wading in the cold water. 

 This they cheerfully do, however, for a 

 dollar and a quarter per day. 



For us, the passengers, there was noth- 

 ing but comfort. My companion on this 

 trip was a slender boy of fourteen, who 

 had never before been outside of the brick 

 walls of a city, and who had never seen 

 anything wilder than an English sparrow, 

 except in the cages of the zoological gar- 

 den. Some of his friends who did not 

 know about such things thought it a fool- 

 hardy thing to let him go into the wil- 

 derness, a hundred miles from anywhere. 

 They did not know what a luxurious place 

 it is. On the way into the hunting-ground 

 all he had to do was to sit in the centre 

 of the big canoe, and watch the ever- 

 changing panorama of the stream. He 

 took to sleeping in an open tent, before a 

 big fire, as naturally as though it had been 

 his habit throughout life. I had a little 

 22-calibre rifle for the benefit of the par- 

 tridges ; and in a week this boy, who had 

 never before fired a gun, could shoot al- 

 most as well as I could. The only trouble 

 was, he was not strong enough to hold a 



152 



