156 SALMON FISHING IN CANADA. 



camp fire, which was now quite extinguished, but enough 

 remained amongst the charred and blackened logs to prove 

 to us that our garments had fallen victims to the fire and 

 the wind. Here we could dimly discern the remains of a 

 beloved red flannel shirt ; there we saw the sole of a well- 

 nailed and trusty shooting shoe ; in one place might be 

 seen the arm of a jacket, and in another, as if it had walked 

 away from the fire, the leg of a shepherds-plaid trousers. 



We did not long mourn over our misfortunes ; the day 

 promised well for fishing ; the Captain and I were enabled 

 to rig ourselves somewhat in the fashion of European 

 Christians, but the Commissioner had literally nothing to 

 cover him. At length, however, after having for a con- 

 siderable time rooted amongst the ashes, he appeared ar- 

 rayed in one half of a light blue flannel waistcoat, one leg 

 and thigh of a pair of blackened russia-ducks which were 

 held up by a piece of silk-fishing line, a shocking bad hat, 

 and a pair of spectacles ; in which costume he fished, and 

 dined and breakfasted and slept for nine days and nine 

 nights, without a murmur, and, as I believe, without any 

 doubt or misgiving but that he was as well dressed as he 

 need be to attend a ball or a levee. 



The Priest, or, as he was often called by his friends, the 

 Bishop, was the last item in the composition of this parti 

 quarre. He, however, has no notion of drawing his own 

 picture. If the amiable reader cannot form some idea of his 

 mind and character from the perusal of the foregoing 



