70 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 



sudden bath. Here the water was comparatively smooth, 

 and little was I prepared for the falls and rapids that 

 were ere long to steady my nerves for anything, and prove 

 what a canoe can do when it is well handled. 



While our head guide, with the musical taste that is 

 inherent in the French nature, rang forth 



" Aimez-moi Nicolas," 



the paddles were being plied vigorously, and we shot 

 into the narrow cleft that forms the bed of the La Yal. 

 Straight up from the water's edge sprung the hills on 

 each side, their grey rocks scarcely half covered with 

 stunted spruce, pine and hemlock, and rarely leaving 

 margin enough for underwood to grow upon the bank. 

 The water, now limpid as crystal, poured down in an 

 ever increasing current, and here and there boiled 

 over a hidden rock. On we forced our way, a bald 

 eagle the only contestant for our sole occupancy of the 

 river, past the grey cliffs, the sombre trees, through dark 

 pools, up rapid currents, by banks of clay greyer than 

 the granite hills themselves. On, on, with steady exer- 

 tions, at every moment ascending toward the source of 

 the wild stream. The water became shoaler, the cur- 

 rents stronger, and the rapids more rocky as we ad- 

 vanced. 



Poling up the rapids was strange indeed. Imagine a 

 torrent pouring, hissing and boiling down over rocks, 

 where the foam glistened and the spray danced into the 

 air, sweeping through narrow channels and leaping up 

 and curling over in crested waves ; imagine a light, fra- 



