190 



THE CANADIAN SPORTSMAN AND NATURALIST. 



man's lodge will be built, the club proposes to 

 secure fishing and shooting rights over other 

 land in the county, and will engage in the 

 propagation of fish and preservation of game. 

 The proposed site of operations has been one 

 of the richest hunting and fishing grounds in 

 the province, and with two years protection, 

 the club hope to be able to re-stock the rivers 

 and forests of the county. Salmon will be 

 introduced into some of the rivers. Messrs. 

 W. Skillings, of Bethel, J. P. Spaulding, of 

 Boston, Romeo H. Stephens, of St. Lambert, 

 Sheldon Stephens, of Montreal, and W. H. 

 Parker, St. Elie, have been elected a provi- 

 sional board of directors. The club will seek 

 incorporation at the next session of the Pro- 

 vincial Legislature, under the name of the 

 Winchester Club, with a capital of $6,750 

 divided into thirty shares. 



Note. — There are good names connected 

 with the above Club, and we will use our 

 influence to make it a success. 



ANSWER TO CORRESPONDENT. 

 John H. Morden, Hyde Park, Ont. — Write 

 to S. E. Cassino, 299 Washington St., Boston, 

 U.S. He is the publisher of the " Naturalist's 

 Directory," in which you will find the address- 

 es of the most promiminent Taxidermists on 

 this continent. You must send two dollars 

 for the work. 



(Somsprntbena. 



Dear Sir, — On page 170 of your Journal 

 you say in answer to a correspondent, that 

 " three other species, viz : — the Scarlet or 

 " Swamp Maple {Acer saccharinum) ; the 

 " Sugar or Rock Maple (A. nigrum) are used 

 " as ornamental trees in the neighbourhood of 

 "Montreal." Permit me to point out that 

 you only mention two species in addition to 

 A. dasycarpum, and that the Scarlet or Swamp 

 Maple is Acer rubrum, the Sugar or Rock 

 Maple is A. saccharinum, and that according 

 to [Gray, A. nigrum is only a variety of A. 

 saccharinum. 



Yours truly, 



H. H. Lyman. 



Note — Our correspondent is correct regard- 

 ing the above maples. A mistake occurred in 

 the specific names; the Soft or Swamp Maple 

 should be rubrum, and the Sugar Maple 

 saccharinum; the nigrum referred to in our 

 article is a variety of the latter. 



MY BARK CANOE. 



Fresh from the dusky Indian's hand, 



I launched thee on the pebbly strand 



Ten years ago ; tight, trim and new, 



My buoyant, light-built bark canoe, 



No white man's hand could fashion thee. 



Thy perfect lines curved gracefully ; 



"A thing of beauty," through and through, 



Wert thou my matchless bark canoe ! 



Oft o'er the Ottawa's rippling swell 

 I journey'd in thee safe and well ; 

 Steady wert thou as any rock, 

 Resisting the explosive shock 

 Of " Faicgh-a-Ballagh' s" roaring ring. 

 At swift, black duck upon the wing — 

 From thee the " chilled " went always true, 

 My staunch, my beautiful canoe ! 



Upon thy ribs red stains I see, 

 Each is a lecord plain to me 

 Of scenes gone by — each crimson spot, 

 A witness of some long range shot, 

 Theie lay the quarries side by side, 

 Arrested in their plumaged pride ; 

 Delightful to a sportsman's view, 

 My beautiful old bark canoe ! 



Some killed at eighty yards and more, 



Have stained thy sheeting with their gore ; 



The mallard in his headlong flight 



Hurled quivering from his airy height. 



The gorgeous wood-duck and the teal — 



The strong merganser's wings of steel ; 



The golden-eye, whose whistling wing 



Made Nova Zembla's inlets ring, 



Each shattered fell, pierced through and through, 



To freight my beautiful canoe. 



The stately pintail there has lain, 



The black duck and the red-head slain — 



The bluebill and the buffle-heid. 



There stretched beside each other dead — 



The graceful white-crested merganser — 



The wild goose — Canada's great anser — 



The osprey from his lightning sweep 



Has fluttured to eternal sleep, 



The huge-winged heron often too 



Has graced my beautiful canoe. 



There lay the widgeon in his pride, 

 The mottled spirit duck beside, 

 The ruffed grouse, yellow leg and rail. 

 The cackling coot with restless tail, 

 The snipe, dabchick and golden plover, 

 The woodcock, monarch of the cover. 

 The night heron with drooping crest, 

 The bittern in loose garment drest, 

 Each has a place in past review, 

 In thee my beautiful canoe. 



And last, not least, the antlered deer, 



Has found his final pillow here, 



Down from the " mountain's crown'' he came, 



The proud, majestic king of game ! 



" Swift in his wake" old Bugle's yell 



Rose on the blast with echoing swell; 



Like otter through the flood he dashed, 



The paddle swept, the rifle flashed, 



And on the crashing bullet flew, 



He's lying in my bark canoe. 



I look on thee through memory's haze, 

 And see once more the camp fire's blaze, 

 My loved companions seated round 

 That almost consecrated ground — 

 I hear their merry laugh again, 



