to the easterly inlet of Lake Tschotagama, which emp- 

 ties into the Great Peribonca River nearly fifty miles 

 from its mouth at Lake St. John. 



Around Cedar Eapids, which are in places a succes- 

 sion of angry chutes, was our first portage since that 

 almost immediately after leaving the Island House. 

 In a narrow, dark, ugly current that the canoes shot 

 down with frightful velocity, immediately at the head 

 of the first falls of the rapids, in order to gain the 

 landing at the portage, the frail craft in which I was 

 sitting, despite its careful trimming by the guides be- 

 fore entering the rapid, shipped quite a quantity of 

 water. Such trivial incidents pass practically unno- 

 ticed, however, for the time being, in presence of the 

 herculean efforts which the guides are putting forth 

 to outwit the power of the current over the canoe, 

 and, by a due exercise of muscle and paddle and 

 tact, to bring it to land at the head of the fall, before 

 the rapids above, by their velocity and strength, can 

 sweep it over the brink into the abyss below. 



An easy portage of about a third of a mile brought 

 us to the foot of the Cedar Kapids, or les rapides des 

 Cedres, as they are called by the guides ; and in ex- 

 ceedingly angry water the canoes were again set afloat 

 and rushed down-stream, the guides having little but 

 steering to do for a while, and we luxuriating in the 

 comfort and smoothness and velocity of our journey, 

 and in the wild scenic beauty of our surroundings. 



Soon, like distant thunder, gradually increasing in 

 the intensity of its roar, there reached our ears the 

 heavy rumbling of the dreaded rapids of Isle Maligne. 

 Nearer still and nearer did it come, until in the not 



