Trail and Camp-Fire 



there the river leaped suddenly over the brink 

 of a ragged wall of rock, and turning sharp to 

 the east, went dashing and roaring down into 

 a deep gorge, through which it swirled in 

 foaming whirlpools and cascades. Cliffs and 

 great walls of forest-clad mountain rose sheer 

 above it ; between them we saw it far beneath 

 us, to where it turned around the shoulder of 

 a mountain and ran off again to the north, to 

 its junction with the other branches, the 

 Riviere du Milieu and the Riviere du Nord 

 Thence the three streams, united, flow east- 

 ward into the St. Maurice — Madoba-lod'ni- 

 tukw, the Abenaki call it — some twenty-five 

 miles below La Tuque, ancient gathering- 

 place of the dreaded Iroquois in their bloody 

 raids upon their northern neighbors. 



At the falls we left the river and began our 

 climb up the mountain. It was a long and 

 toilsome ascent, guided only by the blazed 

 trees — for there was no other sign of port- 

 age — and as steep as it is practicable to climb 

 on snow-shoes. We pulled ourselves up by 

 branches and the trunks of trees, often hold- 

 ing to them with one hand, and reaching back 

 with the other to grasp the extended rifle of 

 the man below and haul him up ; continually 



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