THE PLAYGROUND OF THE EAST 



481 



white ; some in clusters of a dozen or 

 a score, others pitched by themselves a 

 mile away from their nearest neighbor. 

 But whether one cares for tent life or 

 the more luxurious accommodations of 

 the hotels, the temptation to be on the 

 water is so great that the island people 

 are continually going to and fro. If 

 they prefer the steamboat to the smaller 

 craft, a dozen of these are plying be- 

 tween the islands and the mainland, 

 making regular trips. 



One remarkable feature of this re- 

 gion is, that all portions of it are so 

 accessible to the tourist. The traveler 

 from the metropolis need spend but ten 

 hours on the steel highway which links 

 it with Clayton, the gateway to this 

 pleasure country. It is a country under 

 two flags, and many a Union Jack is to 

 be seen flying from the island on the 

 Canadian side of the river. Here one 

 realizes what a jolly, social set the 

 Canadians are, and it can be said that 

 the two nationalities fraternize as one 



on this great meeting-ground of the 

 borderland. 



There is a beautiful panorama, which 

 nature has created here for the enjoy- 

 ment of him who sees it at sunrise, or 

 at the approach of dusk, but with night- 

 fall another spectacle is placed upon the 

 stage. Some time in the past the pretty 

 custom originated of illuminating camp 

 and cottage, mansion and hotel. Even 

 the solitary tent has its beacon of pine- 

 knots blazing high in air, while rows of 

 incandescent- lamps and Chinese lan- 

 terns outline the other abodes. And 

 so it is as we glide noislessly along 

 the great river, another scene is pre- 

 sented almost as beautiful as the day 

 vista, and when the moon is at the full 

 and the great globe rises in the eastern 

 heavens, throwing a flood of light upon 

 tree, rock and water, it is difficult for 

 the spectator not to sink back upon his 

 cushions and believe he is drifting on 

 the summer seas of Ponce de Leon, 

 the dream waters of America. 



A WHARF IN FRONT OF THE CAMP 



