



THE WILDERNESS VIRGIN 
Or Patience Rewarded 
BY SID HOWARD 
pe ———— WAY upon the Georgian 
(A C= i] Bay-Ottawa Divide, in 
i. His Majesty’s Common- 
Besse: wealth of Ontario, 
Providence has made 
it possible for Salmo 
| fontinalis to flourishand 
grow strong and exceed- 
ing thick through the back, and the Pro- 
vincial Government, 
being of a mind with 
Providence and all true 
men, has set apart one 
million acres there, with 
the waters contained 
thereby, as a fish and 
game preserve and res- 
ervoir for the rains, that 
these glorious fish may 
continue to propagate 
and multiply and gradu- 
ally migrate to where 
the sons of men with 
little money can get at 
them. 
Dick, the homespun 
gentleman of the woods, 
it was who introduced 
us to the forest-hidden 
lake in the hills, five 
portages in from the 
main route; told us 
after two years’ acquaint- 
ance, on our third trip, 
by which we judged he 
had slowly come to ap- 
prove of us and return 
in some measure the 
love for him we bore. 
“Tt was before the 
road was put through,” 
explained Dick. “I 
found it, following a 
deer track on my snow- 
shoes. The Gilmour 




“We'll call it five and a-half”’ 
people had a camp in there one winter, 
years before that, getting out square timber, 
but nobody has done anything there since.” 
We listened breathless. 
“Tt is a fine lake,” said Dick. ‘‘There’s 
a lot o’ green timber standing yet, and the 
pine is always a fine sight.”’ 
He whittled a toothpick carefully out of a 
match. ‘‘Nobody ever fished in there but 
me,’’ he added, simply. 
We rose from beds on 
the balsam brush, and 
in a glow of kindliest 
feeling seized him by his 
paddle-calloused hand. 
‘“‘Are there any trout 
in the lake ?”? demanded 
we, staring him solemnly 
in the eye. ; 
“Oh, yes,” said Dick, 
the taciturn, strangely 
unmoved. ‘‘The lake is 
full of them.” 
“Big ones?” 
Dick put just a little 
nicer hair point on his 
toothpick before he re- 
plied. When he did his 
voice betrayed not the 
slightest sign of mental 
strain or emotion. 
“There ain’t a small 
trout in the lake,” said 
he. “If there is I never 
caught one.” 
‘Now, look here, Dick, 
no trifling with a serious 
subject; how heavy do 
they run?” 
“Three and a-half to 
five pounds,” said Dick, 
placidly. We relapsed 
upon the blankets again, 
weakly aghast. 
Down in old Vermont 

