50 JONES — ON THE BACKWOODi. 



live domicile was covered with a thick layer of spruce branches, 

 the smaller sprays on top to render the couch more comfortable, 

 and then the occupant had to spread his blanket and make him- 

 self as much at ease as circumstances would permit. So we 

 commenced our forest life. 



From Roseway river camp we journej'ed to the northward, 

 and camped again on a small point of land which jutted out into 

 a large lake called " Long island lake," and a prettier spot could 

 scarce be conceived. Before us lay the lake whose mirror-like 

 surface scarce ruffled by the breeze, was dotted over with small 

 islands, clothed with spruce and pine, Avhile the evening sun, hot 

 and powerful, reflected their shadows far down in the depths 

 below, and as the shades of evening drew around, and the orb 

 of day sank in majestic splendour behind the dark mass of forest 

 to the westward, the camp fire began to cast a ruddy gleam of 

 light upon the surrounding objects. The fog now rising from 

 the lake, caused a chilly feeling to creep over us, and more 

 wood heaped upon the burning brands, caused the sparks to fty 

 up like miniature rockets in space, while massy flames poured 

 out from our pile of bulky logs, until bursting up in one grand 

 sheet of blazing light, it dazzled with lurid glare the neighbour- 

 ing forest, and our company all seated around the seething mass 

 busily consuming the evening meal. 



From this camp we one day made an excursion to the east- 

 ward, in the neighborhood of Jordan river, and found the Avhole 

 district to be densely wooded with hemlock, spruce, and pine. 

 Indeed of these species of conifers, the forest in the vicinity of 

 Shelburne appears to be almost wholly composed, and it is not 

 until you arrive some fifteen miles up the country, that groves of 

 maple and oak are seen. The country around Shelburne bears 

 evidence of the ravages of fire several years ago, the present 

 growth of timber being but small. 



An island of an acre or two in extent, stands about the centre 

 of Long island lake, and is known as " Indian island," from the 

 fact that in years gone by, the Indians, who had a stationary 

 camp above this lake, buried their dead here. And surely no 

 fitter resting place could have been found for those children of 

 nature, than here beneath the sombre shade of pine or spruce, 



