104 SALMON FISHING IN CANADA. 



some three or four inches to the obliteration of manifold 

 wrinkles that adorned it. It was irresistibly comic, and I 

 could not help a loud laugh, though it was no joke. We 

 had no paddle nor anything else to assist us on board, and 

 were running at six knots an hour towards the jaws of a 

 dangerous rapid. My old voyageur, after his first astonish- 

 ment, uttered one or two indecent oaths, like a veritable 

 French colonist ; then, apparently resigning himself to 

 his fate, became paralysed w th fear and began to mumble 

 a prayer to some favourite Saint. In the meantime some 

 good-natured habitans, who had been watching us playing 

 the salmon, ran down the shore, parallel with us, when they 

 saw us drifting down ; flinging out to us every stick they 

 met for the chance of our catching and using it as a paddle. 

 All this time the salmon remained on the line, and my 

 large rod occupied one hand entirely, and prevented much 

 exertion in stretching for the floating timber ; but as for 

 abandoning rod or fish neither was to be thought of for a 

 moment. Once I overstretched myself and canoe and all 

 were within an ace of being upset. At last success attended 

 us I secured a piece of board, and the first employment 

 of it was the conferring a good sound thwack on Jean Gros' 

 shoulders, accompanied with 'Ramez! sacre, ramez!' 

 The effect was electrical the old fellow seized the board 

 and began to paddle vigorously, steering, as we approached 

 an island, down the smaller branch, where the rapid could 

 be passed with safety. By great good luck our co-voyageur 



