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to find that my last year's guides were again at my service. I wished no better, and I was Hattered by their salutation and their assurance that they wished to render service to no more patient angler. No one of the party had reason to murmur at the men assigned him. All seemed equally expert with paddle and setting pole, and all, with a single exception, could gaff his fish at the right moment and with mathematical precision. If they occasionally missed, and, by a false stroke, lost their prize, it is only what sometimes happens to the best and wisest in every department of life. What a raree show" for an admiring world would that man be who had never blundered! Of some of the mistakes made in gaffing, and of the effect of these mistakes upon the mild-tempered gentlemen who were the victims of them, I shall have something to say hereafteronly remarking now, in passing, that skill in gaffing is considered the highest accomplishment of an Indian guide. I have seen feats of skill by gaffers which were marvelous in their lightning-like rapidity and magical dexterity. The Indian is at no time so wholly an Indian as when, with flashing eye and distended nostril - with every nerve strung for the work before him, and with attitude as fixed and immovable as a marble statue he is awaiting his opportunity to gaff his fish. It is the poise

of the eagle awaiting the auspicious moment to dash upon his selected victim; the crouching of the lion ready to leap upon his prey. No angler's gallery is perfect without a picture of an Indian gaffer thus ready to strike.

Each canoe has two guides. Both are necessary to propel the frail craft over the impetuous rapids which are met with in every salmon river; and they are equally necessary in guiding the canoe down the rapids, which are generally boiling cauldrons, full of rocks and whirlpools and treacherous currents. Running, as these rapids often do, ten or fifteen miles an hour, contact with a rock is full of peril. But this seldom happens. I remember but a single instance, and that was the result of overloading rather than the lack of skill or judg ment in the canoemen.

Two hours of steady pulling brought us to our camp, where we found several fishers who had been awaiting our coming to strike their tents and leave the river. They had had good sport, but not equal to that of last year. Why? was a question they were unable to answer. Most likely because they came too late to meet the first run of fish, which were believed to have passed up at the full of the spring freshet, when successful angling is not deemed practicable, and when even tidewater fishing with nets is seldom attempted. This theory was partially confirmed by the fact that

those who had gone to the upper pools had no cause of complaint. Ordinarily, the best time to

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whip" a river is when the first spring freshet is subsiding. Then the fish are fresh from the sea and far more eager and muscular than after a long sojourn in fresh water. Except upon compulsion, no one should defer his visit to a salmon river later than the middle of June. On a good river there will be tolerable fishing until the middle of August, but the cream of the sport is only available on this river from the tenth of June to the fourth of July. It was not our luck, either last year or this, to be able to choose our time. We hope, however, to do so on some future occasion. We shall then know whether it is possible to experience any higher pleasure, or to achieve any grander successes, than have rendered memorable our two visits to the Cascapedia.

As is the manner of all true anglers, our unknown friends gave us a most hearty welcome. Their spacious board was loaded with every coveted delicacy, freshly caught and artistically cooked salmon constituting, of course, the chief and most palatable dish. And salmon only reveal their unapproachable delicacy when thus served. If the fastidious gourmand is rendered happy by such stale specimens of the delicious fish as he has served up to him a thousand miles from where they are caught, into what spasms of ecstacy would he be thrown by

partaking of the delicate morsel while the golden flakes still retain their full and luscious flavor! Such golden flakes melted upon our palates on this pleasant occasion; and if no sparkling wines were brought forward to crown the feast, we found a better substitute in an abundant supply of excellent coffee, far more delicious to our taste than would have been the fabled "nectar of the gods."

After a hasty adieu and a whole volume of good wishes, we were left temporary "monarchs of all we surveyed," and, with two beside - Captain GRANT, of England, and Mr. KINEAR, of St. John

the sole occupants of fifty miles of as splendid salmon waters as ever received the fly of a jolly angler.

Camp-life in pleasant weather on trout stream or salmon river, with agreeable companions and passable sport is, to the angler, the very perfection of enjoyment. He covets nothing so much as these periodical respites from rasping care and social conventionalities. They are full of sunshine in their realization, and they remain a pleasant memory forever.

Our first camping ground was all that heart could wish- a charming valley, encircled by an amphitheatre of mountains, wood-clad to their very summit, with the river, transparent as the atmosphere, moving in graceful undulations to the sea. It took but a few hours to pitch our tents,

to extemporise a dining hall and kitchen, and to settle down to the solid comfort and enjoyment coveted by those whose simple tastes lead them to these quiet places.

There are, popularly, erroneous ideas entertained of the comforts or discomforts of camp-life. These ideas have been for the most part derived from the real or imaginary pictures painted by novices in wood-craft. One may be quite as comfortable in a bark or log shanty or under a canvas tent as in a well appointed hostelry. It only requires a knowledge of what is essential to comfort and the experience necessary to apply this knowledge practically. To "rough it" does not necessarily imply wet feet, damp clothing, a hard bed, insufficient covering, a leaky tent, hard tack and stale bacon. These are all available to those who prefer them, and the chances are ten to one that you will have them all until you learn that none of them are either necessary or desirable. If you cannot procure what I have found to be unprocurable (waterproof leather boots), a pair of thick rubber shoes, for wet days and damp places, will keep your feet dry. With a rubber coat and leggings, except in a drenching tempest, you need wear no damp clothing. A piece of heavy canvas, with open seams through which to pass your extemporised stretchers, will give you a spring bed, which, with aromatic balsam boughs for a mattrass and plenty