232 



RECREATION. 



this island we worked back to the north 

 side of Huckleberry and struck the 

 Cow's Horn Reef, which lies alongside 

 the main channel, passing completely 

 around it without a strike. Joe said: 



" That' strange. I saw an old soaker on 

 top the water here yesterday. Try a 

 different spoon. Put on nickel and brass 

 instead silver and copper, and make 

 'em 8s instead of 9s ; I guess the old 

 fellow filled up yesterday. Only wants a 

 small bit to-day." 



The change of spoons was made, and 

 back we went around the Horn again. 

 Just as we were turning the point, on 

 the channel side, the inside line straight- 

 ened out a bit, but slackened again im- 

 mediately. We turned, and going down 

 Joe suggested that I reverse the spoons, 

 putting the brass one inside and the 

 nickel on the outside, for he guessed 

 the old fellow had a taste for perch to- 

 day. The second change was made, 

 and on we went around once more. 

 Just as we came to the point, Joe 

 quickened his pace, and was in the act 

 of turning when the inside line straight- 

 ened. Down went the rod to the water's 

 edge, and then a terrific shake of the 

 rod, followed by a splash behind, like 

 that of a rock falling into the water. 

 The old fellow was hooked, and had 

 just made his first break. After half an 

 hour's tussle we succeeded in landing 

 him — a beauty of 42 pounds. 



It was now half-past four, and Jjoe 

 looking up, said : 



"We are close to Gananoque. My 

 cousin is sick. I would like run in and 

 see how he is." 



So off we went. At half-past five he 

 came back to the boat and reported his 

 cousin better. One more start, and this 

 for home. Already it was getting dark, 

 and the moon being only half full, with 

 a cloudy sky, there was not much prom- 

 ise of any light to pick our way through 

 the islands. 



To my astonishment Joe, instead of 

 taking a direct course for home, started 

 up river, keeping close to the mainland. 

 I inquired where he was going. He said 

 he intended to keep close to the main- 

 land until he got to Howe Island, then 

 up alongside that until he could see 

 Clayton Lights to guide him home. To 

 me this was strange, for many a time 

 I had come through the Admiralty 

 Group when the nights were as dark 



as Erebus. But then Joe is always 

 strange, and to question him would only 

 have been to make him tell more lies. 

 If Joe does not think it convenient to 

 tell the truth, the only thing to be done 

 is to wait and watch and see what he 

 does next. 



At half-past six we got up to the 

 lighthouse, off the foot of Howe Island. 

 Joe here drew his boat ashore and pro- 

 posed going up to a farm house, the 



"we heard voices from the other side." 



lights of which could be seen on the 

 water. The owner, Joe said, was another 

 cousin. He observed it was about time 

 for supper, any way, and we could not 

 possibly get home for two or three 

 hours. 



On arriving at the farm we found the 

 table laid, and from the odor a good 

 supper was in process of cooking. I 

 was surprised to see that the table was 

 set for one only, and apparently from 

 the setting, some visitor was expected. 

 A clean white table cloth, in the middle 

 of the week, is a thing one does not ex- 

 pect to find in an ordinary farm-house, 

 unless on some extra occasion. Then 

 everything else was in keeping. Every 



