186 TKAVEL, ADVENTURE, AND SPORT. 



conceive. Our route lay entirely through a virgin 

 forest in the full pride of its summer beauty. Count- 

 less maple-trees fringed the banks of the river, which 

 ran (broken here and there into small rapids by the 

 black rocks which projected their heads above the 

 stream), a " silver streak " that would have delighted 

 the heart of the distinguished Edinburgh Reviewer. 

 Not a trace of human life was discernible, no ugly 

 shanties, or half -cleared fields with the stumps of 

 quondam monarchs of the forest sticking mournfully 

 out of the ground, as though entering their silent pro- 

 test against the desecration of their domain. The axe 

 has not yet penetrated here; and the only visible 

 signs of life were occasional trout leaping at the flies, 

 or a hawk perched on a distant bough, expectant of 

 his prey. 



There are many easier tasks in life than a hard day's 

 poling of a canoe against a strong current, and I was 

 not surprised to find old Nowell pretty well played 

 out by the evening. The merciful man is merciful 

 to his beast, even when the beast is an Indian ; so 

 we called a halt, hauled the canoes ashore, and com- 

 menced our preparations for the night. S. was elected 

 cook, the Indians camp-builders, and I as the green- 

 horn had to content myself with the position of odd- 

 job man. My principal task was to collect bundles 

 of the loose cedar-boughs that littered the ground, to 

 form sleeping-couches for the night ; and I may ob- 

 serve, en passant, that a softer couch never did man 



