SALMO FONTINALIS. 



1 1 



The sun was now up and so were the 

 mosquitoes, the sand flies, the midges, 

 the black flies and every species of the 

 winged creation that prey upon man. 

 They literally enveloped us in clouds. 

 They made Snooks the special object 

 of their attention, while he was engaged 

 up in the tree, in the delightful oper- 

 ation of disengaging his flies from a 

 bough. I was glad when I saw John 

 coming with the raft. I found I had 

 caught, between dawn and sunrise, thir- 

 teen trout, the smallest of which 

 weighed nearly a pound. They more 

 than filled an ordinary trout creel. 

 Snooks caught seven, including the big 

 one referred to, which on "the following 

 day weighed three and three-quarter 

 pounds. He always afterwards claimed 

 it weighed five pounds, and has made 

 this assertion so frequently that he now 

 believes it himself. 



I wish I had ihe graphic pen of War- 

 ner, or Prime, or Christopher North, to 

 portray in enduring characters all the 

 scenes which are so endeared to me, 

 and the undying memories of the events 

 of long ago, which it has been my lot to 

 witness on the lakes I have referred to. 



Man's short tenure of life is a mys- 

 terious combination of sunshine and 



shadow. I have had my experience of 

 both. The intervals of the one were 

 sweet and ephemeral, the others have 

 fallen on my path in every phase of life; 

 but if there has been one gleam of sun 

 shine brighter than another, 



"One solace in this melancholy vale," 



that has filled my ideal of earthly hap- 

 piness, it has visited me after a good 

 day's fishing as I lay before the camp 

 fire, in the depths of the virgin forest, 

 with the majesty of solitude brooding 

 over all. To me there is more solid en- 

 joyment in landing a fine trout or 

 salmon than can be realized in all the 

 flowery glades of this mundane sphere. 

 And further the happy experiences of an 

 angler's career do not fade like the 

 flower, or die like the fish in the creel ; 

 they leave an indelible impression in the 

 heart. They come to him in the visions 

 of the night. They are with him in the 

 calm shelter of his peaceful home, 



"When all his active powers are still;" 



■* and as age creeps upon him, and the sear 

 and yellow leaves are scattered around 

 him, he is borne in fancy and grateful 

 remembrance "beside the still waters," 

 amid the scenes of his earlier days. 



