180 
FOREST AND STREAM 
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FIVE HUNDRED MILES THROUGH 
CANADA BY CANOE 
(Continued from page 158.) 
came to our rescue. After visiting a 
number of Indians, he came back with the 
good news that two of them would ac¬ 
company us. 
The guides, Antoine and Simon, whom 
the factor had recommended highly, and 
who had promised to paddle down to the 
post in their canvas canoe next morning, 
proved indeed to be excellent companions 
and experts with the axe and paddle. When 
we took leave of them at Maniwaki it was 
with honest regret. Antoine, who weighed 
over two hundred pounds, and was fifty- 
eight years old, had a laugh that was in¬ 
fectious. Many a merry time he gave us. 
Simon was over seventy, and looked almost 
frail, but the skill he displayed shooting 
rapids was a treat to see. Many times he 
carried the big canoe over a three-mile 
portage without a stop, and was always 
ready to make the second trip if necessary. 
We shared our meals with them and made 
them one with ourselves. Dave’s “shanty” 
songs tickled them immensely, and often 
they would join in and make the woods 
echo with their lusty voices. 
O N the eighteenth of August we reached 
the Barrier Post, where we found Mr. 
Alston in charge. He gave us a jovial ‘ 
welcome and persuaded us to spend the eve¬ 
ning with his little household. White resi¬ 
dents at the Hudson Bay posts rarely see any 
but native Indians, yet they seem to enjoy 
life at the settlements—the great outdoor 
life that we of the cities can only'occa¬ 
sionally seek to imitate. And after hear¬ 
ing the daily experiences of these men of 
the north woods, an expedition like ours 
seems tame in comparison. 
We departed in the afternoon, taking the 
mail with us, and made camp that evening 
some seven miles from the post. 
The following two days we traveled 
about sixty miles, which meant some good, 
hard work with the paddle. On the edge 
of Kagabonga Lake we saw a moose. We 
paddled quietly towards him and tried to 
get a photograph, but luck threw the sun 
directly into the lens of the camera. And 
though we got within less than fifty yards, 
we failed to get a picture. At the end of 
the second day we made a long portage 
from Bark Lake, and camped near a patch 
of blueberries. 
We were now at the beginning of the 
hardest stage of the trip. There were 
about twenty-five portages immediately be¬ 
fore us, as we left the lakes to strike the 
source of the Gen de Terre River. We 
were hardened, however, and in condition 
to tackle almost anything. Half an hour 
after an early breakfast next morning, we 
were packing our outfit through almost in¬ 
visible and impassable trails. We made six 
portages before noon, and had just started 
after lunch when a heavy thunder-storm 
blew up. Fortunately, we found an old 
lumber shanty where we took shelter and 
decided to spend the night. 
The bunks in the shanty were just as 
the lumberjacks had left them and the place 
looked as if it had been in disuse for years. 
Altogether it was the “toughest” place we 
struck and next morning we had breakfast 
and were on our way before seven o’clock. 
We made fifteen portages that morning, 
some of them over a mile long and all over 
rough ground or through dense underbrush. 
Our guides were infallible; never hesitating 
or making a wrong move though they had 
not been through that country for ten 
years. Early in the afternoon we reached 
a small lake and were glad to be out in the 
open again. A two-mile portage brought 
us to the Gen de Terre River where it was 
navigable, and we were soon drifting with 
the swift current and enjoying the beauti¬ 
ful scenery that continually opened out be¬ 
fore us. 
T HE trip down the Gen de Terre was 
delightful. We moved along with lit¬ 
tle effort and found camping sites 
with tent poles erected and everything 
ready for use. When we reached the Ga¬ 
tineau River we decided to paddle upstream 
to Baskalong Lake. It was five miles off 
our course, but we were a few days ahead 
of schedule and had heard there was good 
fishing there. 
Baskalong Lake we found to be about 
twelve miles long and surrounded with 
beautiful mountainous country. We camped 
on an island which we reached in the af¬ 
ternoon and in the evening Doc caught an 
eighteen-pound pike. We spent the next 
day (August 26th) on the island and caught 
several fish in the morning, when a heavy 
rain drove us back to camp. 
Our journey was by no means over. We 
found plenty of hard work when we 
reached the Gatineau River: many rapids, 
too dangerous to negotiate even by the 
Indians, and portages two or three miles 
long. Occasionally the guides took us 
through the smaller rapids, an exciting ex¬ 
perience we all enjoyed. But usually we 
would carry the packs over, and watch 
Antoine and Simon shoot through the 
treacherous waters light. 
We fished the Gen de Terre and the 
Gatineau without success. The paters in 
those rivers are too clear and swift, but we 
were told there was good bass fishing in 
the lower waters of the Gatineau. Two 
days on the latter brought us to cultivated 
fields, small farms and other evidences of 
civilization and when we made our last 
portage and saw before us the little town 
of Maniwaki we gave voice to our joy in 
a way that greatly amused Antoine and 
Simon. 
I T was noon when we landed and found 
that the train to Ottawa left about two 
o’clock. We paid the guides and gave 
them provisions back to Grand Lake. They 
waved good-bye as we pulled out of the lit¬ 
tle station. And they probably started back 
on the return journey that same afternoon, 
for they were out of their element in those 
surroundings. 
We landed in Ottawa with three dollars 
and thirty cents among us, hired a vie- 
