666 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. 22, 1910. 
CANOEING IN CANADA—A CAMP ON THE CATARAQUI. SCENES ON A LONG CANOE TRIP—LEAVING CAMP KILMARNOCK. 
Mills, we started on and sooq reached a stretch 
of water where old stumps stuck up above the 
water by the thousands. Through a channel 
marked by green pine trees on floats and red 
triangles we paddled on, going into camp at 
Blake's Point. 
After supper we had a swim and received a 
visit from the man who owned our campsite. 
He enjoyed the visit very much until driven 
away by the friendly mosquitoes. He told us 
that years ago cattle grazed upon the land 
which was flooded by water when the Cataraqu’i 
River was backed up to make the water deep 
enough for navigation. So the stumps sticking 
up out of the water are all that remain to tell 
us of the forests of long ago. 
Coming out of the tent the next morning, I 
was surprised to find a farmer lad of about ten 
years eagerly watching the tent, wondering 
what he would see when the tent was opened. 
After putting in we paddled a few miles be¬ 
fore passing the stumps and then entered a nar¬ 
row cut. 40 to 60 feet wide, which brought us to 
Washburn locks. Here we found a small 
grocery store where we stocked up with sup¬ 
plies. Passing the locks a continuation of the 
same cut soon brought us to Brewer’s Mill 
Lock. Here we left the Cataraqui River to 
paddle through a bewildering maze of wood and 
water, shut in by hills from which such a pro¬ 
fusion of greenery overshadows us that sun¬ 
light pierces through only here and there, while 
beyond the lake glows like a sheet of liquid 
gold. So abrupt are the turnings, so full are 
the shores of delusive bays and inlets, that we 
made a wrong turn and were obliged to retrace 
our way for some distance and find the channel 
through the aid of another tourist whom we 
chanced to meet. Each new view seemed more 
beautiful than the last. On rounding a turn we 
saw projecting from a bluff 150 feet high, an 
excellent profile of the Duke of Wellington, 
cut out of rock by the wonderful work of nature. 
Our next lake was Cranberry Lake where we 
found many islands and a few large bass and 
pike. Entering Whitefish Lake we found a 
sapphire sea. studded with emerald isles, from 
out the tangled mass of leaf and blossom the 
lonely crane pursued his slow heavy flight, and 
the towering hills were tinged with purple and 
gold from the setting sun. 
Here we camped and many a mosquito met 
his fate ere we arose the next morning and 
found the rain falling heavily. At noon the day 
cleared up and we started on, reaching Jones 
Falls at 1:30 p. m. This is said to be the most 
beautiful spot in Canada, and we believe the 
saying to be true. Here the four locks, placed 
amid the most beautiful surroundings, lifted us 
80 feet in twenty minutes. Afterward we in¬ 
spected the dam holding back the waters of 
Sand Lake. The dam is 400 feet long, 300 feet 
thick at the base and 90 feet high, formed of 
immense blocks of closely cemented stone. It 
was looked upon at the time of its construction 
as one of the great engineering achievements 
of the world. 
Leaving Jones Falls we entered narrow wind¬ 
ing channels with high bluff rocky shores with 
many tiny bays occupied by camping parties. 
After losing our way a few times, we reached 
Sand Lake, which was large enough to show 
a rather heavy sea. Seeing three channels in 
the distance we chose the one on the right side 
and reaching a fine summer home, still un¬ 
opened, we decided to camp there over night. 
While getting supper ready our faithful coffee 
pot, steaming in great shape, tipped over, and 
before I thought, I had picked it up to save 
the coffee and for the next few hours three of 
my fingers were delightfully warm. However, 
we made a tour of our temporary home and 
were so charmed with the io-foot veranda, 40 
feet long, overlooking the lake and its distant 
islands, that we rested there until darkness fell. 
Getting up at 5:30 a. m., we broke camp at 
7:30 a. m., and passed a lad in a boat who in¬ 
formed us that the channel was i l / 2 -miles the 
other way. As the lake was calm we did not 
feel so bad, and soon were on the right w'ay 
again. Passing Opinacon Lake and Chaffey’s 
locks, we entered Indian Lake whose shores are 
high and rugged. Crossing on a narrow 
isthmus we were on the waters of Clear Lake. 
Here we saw a large white spot on a high rock 
in the distance, and paddling across the lake to 
it, found that it marked the channel from Clear 
Lake into Newboro Lake. After passing Grass 
Point, we reached the cozy village of Newboro, 
where we got a carry over a lock eight feet 
high. We were now 192 feet above the level 
of our starting point, and here the water be¬ 
gan to run down hill to Ottawa. Newboro 
thus has the distinction of marking the ridge of 
a watershed, the waters running in one direc¬ 
tion toward Kingston and in the other toward 
Ottawa. 
A cut through the rock formation nearly one 
mile in length was necessary at this point in 
addition to the lock. Going through this cut 
we reached Little Rideau Lake, and after a 
stiff paddle against a head wind went into camp 
near Westport, where we stocked up with sup¬ 
plies after supper and enjoyed a pleasant visit. 
The next day being Sunday, we laid in and 
received visits from several campers in the 
vicinity. Accepting the invitation to return the 
visit of some campers directly across the bay, 
we paddled over after our supper dishes were 
washed. Arriving there we found the boys 
building a huge bonfire with stumps, which were 
strewn along the beach in all directions. When 
it was burning at its height a sudden squall 
came up, and when about to run for shelter 
into their tent we heard a hail from out on the 
lake. Answering back, we waited, and then we 
heard it again; and then from out the intense 
darkness of the lake now whipped into fury by 
the high wind, and illuminated now and then 
by a sudden flash of lightning, shot a canoe 
under sail. 
Rushing down to the water’s edge, we shouted 
to them, and through skillful handling of the 
canoe, they made a turn and headed directly 
toward 11s. With the speed of the wind they 
came and, realizing their danger, we held our 
breath in suspense, believing every minute they 
would go over. But when close to shore they 
dropped the sail and came riding the top of a 
wave like a feather, jumped out, and catching 
the canoe, were safe on the shore. I never saw 
fellows who were more grateful for a camp¬ 
fire than they; as they appeared to think it 
played a most important part in their getting 
ashore when they were caught by the squall in 
the middle of the lake, and couldn't tell which 
way ■ to go. All hands now being thoroughly 
wet, we. went inside the tent and played euchre 
until the storm let up. after which Dick and I 
had quite a risky paddle across the bay home. 
Charles E. Ryan. 
[to BE CONTINUED.] 
COOKING DINNER ON LITTLE RIDEAU LAKE. 
THE CATARAQUI RIVER—A HULK UPON THE BANK. 
