and following the canoe, or the In- 

 dian route, one requires to be particu- 

 larly conversant with the locality in 

 order to be able to follow the proper 

 channel, as in many places the islands 

 are so densely situated, and forming 

 so many narrow gaps of almost iden- 

 tical appearance, that only an ex- 

 perienced and close observer can 

 follow his proper course, the 

 loss of which might lead 



to much annoyance and even to ser- 

 ious consequences. As one travels 

 north along the wes.t shore of the lake 

 and among the islands, the red gran- 

 ite ridges which stretch along the 

 lake shore, with here and there 

 crumbling frontages, gradually rise 

 to an imposing height. Some of 

 the headlands and cliffs along this 

 route stand perpendicular oait of the 

 water to a height of 100 to 200 feet 

 and I must admit that when 

 sailing close in beneath some of those 

 stupendous cliffs, I felt awestruck 

 by their great and towering height 

 above me. 



In the face of one of those cliffs 

 about 120 feet above the water, I 

 observed a golden eagle's (Aquila 

 crysaetos) nest, the young bird, not 

 yet fully fledged, was sitting com- 

 posedly on the brink of it, regardless 

 of any danger to its safety beyond 

 an apparent suspicion conveyed by 

 the alarming whistle-like calls of the 

 parent birds, which were soaring far 

 above it. My guide, who was over 

 40 years of age, told me that since 

 his earliest recollection, and probab- 

 ly long before, the eagle hatched there 

 every year. All through this portion 

 of the lake, it is very deep, and at 

 the Eagle's Cliff, as it is called, and 

 of which I have just spoken, the na- 

 tives claim that they failed to find 

 bottom with a sixty fathom line. 

 FISH IN PROFUSION. 



About forty miles north from this 

 point are the narrows where the Hud- 

 son's Bay Company many years ago 

 used to have an outpost, and is known 

 as Fond du Lac. Quite a strong cur- 

 rent runs sometimes south and some- 

 times north, here. The water is 

 crystal-like clear, and ice-cold, even 

 in summer. I had a net set here one 

 night, which was only 100 feet long 

 and in the morning we got about 

 240 pounds of fish out of it, consist- 

 ing of seven different kinds of ex- 

 ceedingly fine fishes. There were 

 three species of speckled salmon 

 trout, varying in weight from seven to 



thirty pounds. This portion of the 

 lake abounds with a variety of fish, 

 some of which, owing to the tem- 

 perature and the purity of 

 the water in which they subsist, 

 I believe cannot be excelled in any 

 part of the world. I have stood on 

 the rocks at the outlets of some of 

 the many comparatively small rivers 

 faling into the lake from the steepy 

 sides of the mountains bordering upon 

 it, and watched the speckled trout in 

 large numbers passing to and fro in 

 their crystaline abode, and often 

 thought how many of the sport-loving 

 tourists in the old country would 

 feel delighted to have such an oppor- 

 tunity for satisfying their desire for 

 the pleasure and sport which the 

 fishing rod and tackle can afford 

 them. 



These mountain torrents in their 

 impetuous race down through the rug- 

 ged rocky channels in which they 

 travel to rest in the quiet level of the 

 great lake into which they disappear, 

 look in their mantle of sparkling- 

 foam like a narrow drift of snow, or 

 a white streak running serpentlike 

 up the steep sides of the hills over 

 which they bound from the level 

 plateaus beyond, and can be readily 

 seen here and there through the 

 sparsely wooded sides of the moun- 

 tains at several miles distance. 



AN ESTUARY. 



At the mouth of one of the rivers to 

 which I have just referred, there is a 

 small estuary, which the Indians of 

 that region regard with much venera- 

 sion, as they claim they need not ever 

 pass it hungry during the summer 

 season. I have seen Indians (and did 

 so myself) quietly approach this estu- 

 ary with their canoes and set a net 

 across it at the end next the lake, 

 and then go to the outlet of the rivar, 

 and forming their canoes into line, 

 drive a large number of beautiful sal- 

 mon trout into their net. This par- 

 ticular river is about seventy miles 

 north of Fond du Lac, or the narrows, 

 where Mr Waburton Pike wintered in 

 1889. The little wooden hut, in which 

 he passed the winter was still a sou- 

 vanir of his sojourn there. 



I was still travelling slowly along 

 the shore of the lake, which from 

 this point lies in a northeasterly 

 direction. It was mow drawing near 

 the last days of July and I was look- 

 ing forward with eagerness for the ar- 

 rival of the reindeer and caribou 



