mer's breeze swept through their branches; the deer which, unconscious and unharmed, alternately disported himself upon the sand-beach and fed upon the water lilies whose snowy crests kept time to the music of the gentle waves which rolled up, like long belts of silver, upon the golden sands; and the thrill which coursed through every nerve as trout after trout leaped to the cast, and, after such manipulation and "play" as only those who have had personal experience can comprehend, were duly captured. And here are discarded lines, unused gimp, broken snells, severed tips, sinkers, floats, trolling gangs, minnow lines, wires, pincers, feathers from duck, peacock and pigeon, wax, thread, loose hooks, spoons and whatever else goes to make up an ancient angler's "kit." They have each filled up the measure of their office, and deserve the repose which they have earned from long use and faithful service. CHAPTER XIII. BRIEF TRIBUTE TO A DEPARTED FRIEND. To die is landing on some silent shore, Nor kings nor nations One moment can retard th' appointed hour. -[Garth. -[Dryden. The world's an inn, and death's the journey's end. Since then our Arcite is with honor dead, -[Ibid -[Ibid. HE pleasurable emotions usually excited by needed work preparatory to our annual excursion, were chastened upon this occasion by the recollection that one of the four who made up our party last year-the youngest, the most buoyant and the best belovedwill never again join us in our pleasant angling expeditions. Soon after his return home last summer, without premonition, "in the twinkling of an eye," he was called to pass the dark river. His sudden death, from an organic malady which no care could avert, made a happy home desolate, and cast a shadow over many loving hearts. No one of us anticipated a return to the Cascapedia more confidently or with greater delight. But it was not to be. We shall miss him, for he was the life and inspiration of the camp, as he was the ever-welcome guest of every social circle. There only remains to us the recollection of his pleasant ways and joyous companionship. After his return home, and a few days before his death, he gave expression to the memories he cherished of the Cascapedia in the following beautiful lines: THE CHALEUR BAY-1874. AFTER FATHER PROUT'S SHANDON BELLS. With deep affection, And recollection, I often think of the Chaleur Bay; Whose river wild, would, In age or childhood, Cast round men's fancies, its magic sway. There memory drifting- Brings well-remembered scenes of summer time; Or grateful leisure, On Cascapedia's pine-clad banks sublime. I've seen the river, That thundering ever, Roars at Niagara its mighty tone, Fair Cascapedia! 'tis all thy own. The Hudson splendid, With floods descended From tow'ring summits, rising range on range, With stately motion Moves toward the ocean, But equals not thy ever beauteous change. When old and hoary, We turn and gaze along our backward way. And old hearts will brighten, To see our river on the Chaleur Bay. -[D. Archie Pell. CHAPTER XIV. SECOND VISIT TO THE CASCAPEDIA THE PARTY. WHO MADE UP Let us to the ancient woods: I say, let us value the woods. They are full of solicitations.-[Thoreau. I leave the town with its hundred noises, -[G. W. Nears. HERE are scores of salmon rivers between Quebec and Labrador, but they are not all equally attractive. In some there are but few fish; in others the fish are uniformly small; in others still there are ten grisle to one salmon; in still others the pools are separated by great distances, and many of them are subject to such sudden floods and such frequent discoloration of their waters as to render fishing precarious and unsatisfactory, except at such remote and uncertain intervals as to weary the most patient angler. There are, however, a multitude of rivers in which the fish are large and abundant, |