—_— SS +” > 
AN OUTING. IN ACADIA a5. 
made difficult to run by the great weight in 
our boat and the shallowness of the water. 
We paddled steadily for about seven 
miles, stopping only for lunch, our progress 
being necessarily slow, on account of the 
numerous rapids we encountered. At six 
o’clock Mitchell landed us above.Loon Lake 
Falls, where the rapids are long and swift. 
Just at the foot of the falls we unloaded 
everything, pitched our tent and{with{rod 
and reel made ready for an hour’s fishing. 
It was about six o’clock when we paddled 
out to some rocks just at the foot of the falls 
and, landing, proceeded to cast. We had 
good sport, the trout rising. frequently. 
Several of our catch were of considerable 
size, the largest weighing two and one-half 
pounds. 
A night of loveliness had succeeded the 
misty day. The August full moon was high 
and, looking up the river over the falls, the 
scene presented was one of rare beauty. 
Just below our camp Loon Lake lay, wild 
and mystic in the yellow light. We retired 
early to the camp, where we threw a couple 
of logs on the fire and crawled into com- 
fortable sleeping-bags. The ever-changing 
cry of the loons and the calls of the wild 
night-birds lulled us into a peaceful sleep. 
Next morning we were up betimes, and, 
after a leisurely and substantial breakfast, 
broke camp, loaded our canoe and set out 
for Lake Rossignol. The river ran swiftly 
and, had it not been for the low water, we 
would have had very little work to do before 
reaching the lake. 
Lake Rossignol (whose beautiful name 
is one of. the few indications left of the 
former presence of the French in Nova 
Scotia) is similar in appearance. to Fairy 
Lake. It is about fifteen miles in length and 
from five to eight miles in breadth. It is 
studded with numerous small islands and 
surrounded by rocky shores, and in addition 
is apt to be extremely rough, as we found in 
our five-mile passage across its upper end. 
We lunched hastily on. a rocky point— 
hastily-because Mitchell was not sure’of the 
whereabouts of the mouth of the Shelburne 
River, which was that afternoon’s goal. 
Arrived on the other side of:the lake, it did 
not take us long to locate the. Shelburne. 
We paddled up-stream a short distance and 
pitched our tent, as usual, in a previously 
fey y 
occupied spot. That evening Mitchell, 
having stripped some birch trees, made a 
bark megaphone, and with it treated us to 
some bellowing sounds, which he assured 
us were correct imitations of the cow-m« 
We did not contradict him. 
Next morning, after about an hour 
steady paddling up the Shelburne, we were 
compelled to ‘“‘carry” for the first time. 
This was indeed a slow and arduous task, 
there being such a great quantity of baggage 
to transport in addition to the canoe. From 
woods the prospect now changed to mead- 
ows. Hay-stacks of spring grass lent a 
homelike appearance to the scene. With 
these before us it was hard to realize that we 
were forty or fifty miles away from human 
habitation. 
The Shelburne is a most beautiful stream, 
flowing through the wildest kind of country. 
The woods on either. side of it give every 
indication of extreme age. The axe of the 
woodman has never touched this part of the 
forest, although there are numerous lumber 
camps in other sections of the country and a 
bridge built by lumbermen crosses the river 
a few miles below Sand Lake. At last, I 
thought, we are in the midst of “the forest 
primeval.” 
Just where the river begins to broaden out 
as it- leaves the lake is a small brook, up 
which Mitchell steered the canoe for about 
a-quarter of a mile. We landed in a minia- 
ture cove and we carried our tent, camping 
bags, etc., up to a spot in the woods about 
two hundred yards from the landing place. 
This was to be our headquarters for several 
days, so we beached the canoe and carried 
everything to our new “home.” Urged on 
by our appetites, it did not take us long to 
pitch the tent, build a fire and cook supper. 
We had not yet disposed of the trout killed 
at Loon Lake Falls and now enjoyed them. 
The moon was high when we were ready 
to turn in, and the night still as death. 
Mitchell ‘‘called”’ from back of the tent just 
before we turned in. In. the morning we 
found unmistakable evidence that a small 
bull moose had walked almost through our 
fire, as we lay sleeping... After breakfast we 
set out for trout. We had rare sport, for in 
- less than an hour we had landed consider- 
ably more than we could eat, and we threw 
the last three or four back into the water 
