CHAPTER VIII. OUR FIRST CAMP AND A HEARTY WELCOME. His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning; HE bark-canoes used upon these rivers are fragile-looking but strong and buoyant. They are not only more steady and secure, in a heavy sea, than the boats used in the Adirondacks, but are capable of bearing heavier burdens. On rivers where the current is swift and the rapids heavy (as in the Cascapedia) two men are necessary to propel them up stream with safety and comfort; and even then an average of two miles an hour is considered a fair rate of speed. The boatmen sit when paddling or stand when polling, (one at each end) while the passenger makes himself very comfortable on a slightly elevated seat in the middle of the canoe. A novel, picturesque and exciting scene was presented as our six canoes moved off, in "Indian file," up the rapid waters of the Cascapedia. The poles used are tipped with an iron tube, and make pleasant music as they strike upon the pebbly bottom of the river in perfect time. The afternoon was charming. The sun shone out in full lustre, but the cool breeze rendered the atmosphere inexpressibly delightful. The river is broad and its waters are as transparent as crystal. The foliage on either side was rich and varied, and the grand old hills which rise, most of the way, almost perpendicularly from the water, were clothed in gorgeous apparel. All our surroundings — the mode of conveyance, our dusky boatmen, the scenery, the object of our journey and the sport anticipated were novel and inspiriting, and the four hours consumed in reaching our first camping ground, were four hours of unalloyed pleasure, to which the excitement of ascending the seemingly unascendable rapids largely contributed. To ascend rapids safely not only involves hard work but a quick eye and a steady hand. To allow the impetuous current to obtain a moment's advantage would whirl the frail bark out of its course in an instant, and send it flying down upon the rocks to be dashed to pieces. It is, however, far less dangerous, though harder work, to go up than to come down these rapids. And yet, during the three weeks we were on the river, a hundred rapids, in which an Adirondack boat could not have lived a moment, were passed in perfect safety. The descent is especially exhilarating. The skill with which rocks and breakers and foam are avoided or surmounted, is a source of constant wonder and admiration. To pass through the pleasurable excitement of these dashing flights is alone worth a journey to any one of the rushing rivers where this experience can be had. The sensation of "running the rapids" is unlike anything otherwise attainable. It somewhat resembles that which one experiences from the return movement of a swing in full action; but the feeling is multiplied an hundred fold. As the rapid is approached, the water is generally as smooth as glass, and the light vessel seems drawn through it with lightning speed, as if moving upon the surface of transparent oil. From this it glides --and no other word so literally expresses the movement—into, and dashes through the foaming waters with the swiftness of a locomotive — the skilled boatmen guiding their craft past the exposed and hidden rocks by an easy and quiet motion of their paddles, as securely and as gracefully as the skilled "whip" guides his horses past any dangerous obstacle which presents itself in his pathway. This running the rapids is the very "poetry of motion," and those who have never enjoyed the sensation have something very pleasurable yet in reserve. The point selected for our first camp was eight miles from New Richmond, and in the immediate neighborhood of several of the best pools on the river. There is no desirable fly-fishing, at any season of the year, below them. Tide-water, within which seine-fishing is allowed, extends nearly up to them, and as for some reason with which I am not sufficiently familiar to discoursesalmon do not readily, if ever, rise to a fly until they enter fresh water, it is never deemed worth while to wet your line until these pools are reached. On arriving at our destination, we found Chief Justice RITCHIE, of New Brunswick, and Chief Justice GRAY, of Massachusetts, in camp, awaiting our arrival to move up higher in their pursuit of sport. They gave us a most cordial welcome SO cordial and so full of cheerful heartiness and good humor as to instantly dispel the reverential awe with which plain, unlearned laymen are wont to look upon such eminent expounders of law and dispensers of justice. They had doffed their ermine and bade us welcome with unlaced dignity and grace, in flannel shirts and well-worn trousers. I have already referred to the buoyant spirits and charming hilarity of the Chief Justice of New Brunswick. He seemed an embodiment of good humor, as if he lived and moved and had his being in an atmosphere of perpetual sunshine. And Chief Justice GRAY was like him in all the good qualities desirable in camp companionship. He is a man of grand physique-more than six feet high and well proportioned—and, at home, towers above the mass of his compeers in dignity and learning as he does above most men in comely stature. It was very pleasant to mark the simple enthusiasm with which these two eminent men gave us their piscatorial experiences and recounted their achievements with rod and reel. It reminded one of the grand characters of the past—of the princes, and poets, and bishops, and chancellors, and the quiet, contemplative, happy scholars and philosophers of all times—who have found their highest delectation in their pursuit of the delightful recreation of angling. It may not seem so to the plodding man of business, who deems all time wasted which does not bring golden grist to his mill; but it is nevertheless true that there have been multitudes of wise men, and good men, and happy men in all ages who, more than when honors or wealth came to them, have rejoiced when the times and seasons returned, when they could say to their friends, as Peter said to the disconsolate disciples, "I go a-fishing." Amid his deepest gloom and despondency, this great-hearted apostle fell back instinc |