274 



RECREATION. 



thorities on the London Field said it was 

 the only river he had fished that sated and 

 surfeited. Up to last year a visit to the 

 Serpentine only required a private yacht 

 and a corresponding income, the best of 

 weather for a landing from the sea, and 

 then good luck and equal good weather 

 to get away again. That, at least, was my 

 experience, minus the yacht and the in- 

 come; for I went up in a sealer, with the 

 "smells of Cathay" turned putrid, and all 

 the insect torments turned loose in bunk 

 and everywhere else. Now, thanks to 

 Dodd and the trail from the log cabin, 

 there is another story. 



We built our house of canvas and spent 

 the days in getting ourselves within the 

 jurisdiction of heaven's first law — order. 

 In front we hoisted the American banner 

 and the British standard, and heard, day 

 after day, the engineers salute the flags. 

 From the railway to the river we cleared 

 the way so as to have an open draft of the 

 wind which would blow the flies and mos- 

 quitoes into the river, we hoped, and per- 

 mit us to see the trains pass. 



No more accommodating officers than 

 those of the Newfoundland railway system 

 ever lived. They will pick you up on sig- 

 nal, be the train express or accommoda- 

 tion, and as obligingly set you down wher- 

 ever you wish. I recall flagging the train 

 and having the conductor put my Gaspe 

 30-foot canoe in the passenger coach be- 

 cause it had to go in the end of the car 

 lengthwise. That was when I was running 

 down the lake in a driving rain storm on 

 my way to Fishel's brook, and all of us 

 were wet through. That was when Tobin 

 declared he would not be afraid to cross 

 the gulf in the Gaspe canoe, which was an 

 ultra statement for a devotee of the dory. 

 For old Benoit, of the brook, said, "A 

 life boat will roll over and drown, but a 

 dory will float until it brings the dead fish- 

 erman ashore." It was Tobin who heard 

 the train in the distance, in itself a marvel, 

 and we paddled across the lake with might 

 and main to flag it. I was cold and wet. 

 The company's doctor gave me aqua vitac, 

 and the conductor gave me some lunch, 

 while both insisted I turn the coach into 

 a dressing chamber, by stretching a blanket 

 across the car, and put on dry clothing. 

 At midnight they left me at Fishel's brook, 

 at the first pool, down by the sea. It was 

 raw, cold and rainy; and we had to put 

 up a tent and build a fire where we could 

 scarcely find drift wood. 



Up and down the railway we walked, 

 from pool to pool, without danger, as we 

 learned the schedule time and no special 

 ever went by without full warning. Like- 

 wise did the caribou and bears use the 

 track daily, so that the novelty of fresh 

 signs soon wore off. The express for 



Port aux Basque ruthlessly killed a young 

 caribou one evening and carried the re- 

 mains on the cowcatcher; then crossed the 

 bridge and threw them into the brook. 



The Missus and the lady caribou met 

 next day on the railroad track, when the 

 former was pensively enwrapt in thought 

 and idly wandering up the irons for exer- 

 cise. The lady caribou was within striking 

 distance of the sunshade madame carried, 

 while farther on the lord caribou stood in 

 the running brook. The shrieks of the 

 Missus made Tobin dart through the tent, 

 grasping his rifle, while I threw down my 

 salmon rod, regardless of tradition and 

 principle, jumped up, seized an ax, and 

 fled after Tobin; but the lord and lady 

 caribou had vanished. Then we went back 

 to camp and soothed the Missus, but my 

 deepest feelings were for the dam that had 

 traced her dead to the brook. 



Along the margin of the stream the long 

 marks showed where the bears crouched 

 on their bellies at the head of the pools, 

 fishing for salmon in most primitive fash- 

 ion. Across the brook, leaping from rock 

 to rock, is the dumping ground. The fly- 

 ing canoe descends in the wild whirl and 

 eddy of waters upon Fox and Lucifer 

 crossing the brook! Up and down the 

 waterways wild fowl, geese and ducks, 

 often with their young broods, come and 

 go, almost without fear. Just below the 

 camp a hawk's nest is full of young birds, 

 whose cries may be plainly heard when, 

 heavily laden, the parent bird comes in 

 from the sea with the fish in its talons. 

 The law of the jungle obtains: 



"Ye may kill for yourselves and your cubs as they 



need and ye can; 

 But kill not for the pleasure of killing and seven times 



never kill man." 



The Missus and Tomas had gone up the 

 track to fish for speckled trout where 

 North brook came down the mountain 

 side, first getting my promise to send To- 

 bin after her if I stabbed a salmon. It had 

 been a day of heart-breaking disappoint- 

 ments, and the lady had departed because 

 her store of consolation was in danger of 

 giving out. Not a rise, though I tried and 

 tried again. Not even a salmon in sight. 

 I had broken a leader, lost flies and warped 

 tips by long casts from the shore to reach 

 a bit of water on the farther side. Tobin 

 had gone up on the bank to watch the 

 back cast, and called to tell me I had a 

 rise. I reeled in, trying to fix the length 

 of line with some definiteness, and sat 

 down. Oh! if for the lover time hangs 

 heavily, it stands still for the salmon fisher, 

 waiting the prescribed 5 minutes before 

 another cast is made for the salmon! Out 

 goes the line; longer and longer. It sure- 

 ly must be out 80 feet, yet Tobin insists I 

 have not covered the spot where he saw 



