THE COMMuDORE AND CREW. 341 

safely skips by them. And on, on, down we go, yet more 
swiftly, ‘‘to the left; steady!” and straight between the 
boulders. A slight rub against the starboard side, a little 
dry pitch dusting off from a seam flies out upon the air, and 
the lady is dancing up and down upon a few high rollers, for 
a moment only, and now she bows lightly, before quickly 
raising her head, as she feels herself urged forcibly along by 
the paddles, and then, as if to break away entirely from a 
more violent urging, leaps far out over ‘‘ the shelf rock” and 
sits down, as gracefully as possible under the circumstances, 
upon the smooth water below. 
‘*No stops, Mr. Crew; this is a through train,” says the 
Commodore, as a caribou just shows himself down below, 
when he turns, and is off the way he came. 
The ducks, thoroughly disgusted with our company at the 
upper lake, are on the stream below us, and now rise from 
out the bend and point us out the direct line and nearest route 
to their old feeding grounds above. 
A few moments more and we are lying ‘hie lady upon the 
shore, at our first camp ground, on our way up the river, 
weeks before. 
**Hillo! a mink; and you’re the scamp that stole the 
irout.” 
He skips off up the brook as we are landing, and as he is 
now more black and glossy, we shall tender him an invite to 
accompany us home. 
Everything being undisturbed and as we left it, with the fir 
bed still a bright green and dry, plenty of driftwood handy 
by, we are soon most satisfactorily situated for the night. 
The Commodore’s face lights up with a pleased expectation 
as he hears the trout again splashing just below the pcol; 
