expressed "The Companion of Many Summers"! 

 Surely they must have reminded him of the days 

 and nights they had passed together on some 

 grand old river in the forests of Canada tin* 

 shooting of the rapids, the camp-fires at night, the 

 life in the woods, all of which go to make up that 

 indescribable something which all true sportsmen 

 love. I have often thought, as I stood by my camp- 

 fire and gazed at the stars through the clear atmo- 

 sphere of the Northern skies, how few persons 

 there are who know the great happiness there is 

 in the solitude of a life in the wilderness. Here 

 one sees the swift, icy brooks tumbling down from 

 the lakes which lie amid the green-clad hills stretch- 

 ing far away to the north the little brooks which 

 are torrents in spring, and go to make up tlu> 

 mighty Cascapedia, far-famed for its lordly salmon. 

 They, too, love the river; for do they not come each 

 year and go far to the head waters to seek the quiet 

 pools whose banks are lined with the sweet-scented 

 linnroa, where undisturbed they can whisper to each 

 other their tales of love f 



I remember one day, as I was going up the i 

 to take my turn at certain pools, I saw the doctor 

 sitting in his canoe, reading a book. As I ap- 

 proached him he shmr Hello, Davis! Any 

 luckf" I told him I had not fished, but was 

 on my way to Middle Camp. " I hope you have 

 had some sport f " 



4 



