THE SALMON FISHER. 109 



forming a breakwater which affords effectual shel- 

 ter from the booming seas which break on the pro- 

 montories when storms drive in from the eastward. 

 On this strip of land, not altogether destitute of fo- 

 liage in summer, is the home of Napoleon Comeau, 

 the river guardian, and a small community of hob- 

 itans and Montaiguais half-breeds, w T ho live in a com- 

 fortable way in small cottages somewhat neat, catch- 

 ing fish and birds and eggs in summer, trapping 

 pelts in winter, and clubbing seals in spring, besides 

 fortifying their subsistence by the additional largess 

 of their river patron, Mr. Gilmour. And the camp 

 itself, two miles up the river, where so many distin- 

 guished people have been domiciled, is not the can- 

 vas makeshift or riven hemlock cabane of the chance 

 angler on the coast. It is a goodly mansion with a 

 tempting verandah, and a tower three stories high 

 surmounted by a staff from which red bunting flies 

 when the quarters are occupied. Then there is the 

 ice-house and kitchen, the smoke house, boat house, 

 w^oodhouse, men's quarters, and other adjoining 

 buildings, so that there is quite a hamlet. The 

 tower, by the way, is no emulous rival of Babel, but 



