FALLS ON GRAY S RIVER 



When evening drew on and we 

 stopped to make camp we prepared for 

 supper by washing in the lake, our only 

 basin during the trip. We sat on a 

 rock and ate fish which we had caught 

 trolling from the canoe. For dessert we 

 had bread and molasses, and surely 

 never had a meal tasted so good. 



After supper we sat around a roaring 

 camp fire listening to John tell stones 

 of the Indians of long ago, and of nota- 

 ble battles between the Iroquois and the 

 Algonquins, and of a wonderful battle- 

 field, where was an Indian grave filled 

 with many Algonquin skeletons, flint 

 arrow heads, stone axes and wampum. 



Then we went to our tent to sleep 

 on fragrant balsam boughs and to 

 dream that we had never been anything 

 but savages and never wanted to be. 



In the morning as the canoe was be- 

 ing pushed out from the rocky beach 

 the Chaperon remarked on the utter 



silence of the place and on the absence 

 of any sign of anim'al life. 



"It's the Devil's Point," John replied 

 in an almost inaudible whisper, as he 

 glanced quickly over his shoulder and 

 leaped into the canoe. 



It was true we were in Devil's Bay, 

 near Devil's Mountain, and in sight of 

 Granny Island,, where dwells "Mrs. 

 Kokomis," an old woman in stone, 

 around whom circles an interesting In- 

 dian legend. 



Mrs. Kokomis, the Indians say, mar- 

 ried the Devil in the good old days. 

 She was such a virago that the Devil 

 could not live with her and he chased 

 her from his home on the mountain to 

 this little island and turned her to stone. 



To this day no Indian will go within 

 sight of Mrs. Kokomis if he can help 

 himself, and if forced to do so will al- 

 ways leave an offering at her feet. 



If we had known this it would have 



32 



