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to fish trout. Here in the rapids the poling was very different from that on the placid Madawaska. To avoid upset we were obliged to jump out into the foam-flecked eddies, and thereafter tethered the pirogue to an overhanging alder, and fished by wading. About three dozen fair-sized trout were taken. On returning to camp we found that some rapacious animal had entirely consumed a supply of buns and other stuff, purchased that morning at a farm. The loss was serious, for on this trip every cent had to do the ordinary work of a dollar.

It was understood at home that we were only to go as far as Grand Falls, and we were supplied with cash accordingly. We had secretly determined to explore Lake Temiscouata, but not until our arrival at Cabineau did we entertain the wild project of pushing through to Riviere du Loup on the St. Lawrence. A needy Frenchman, one Dennis Pelletier, agreed to drive us across the watershed and back again for four dollars and a half, paying his own board. Deducting the cost of meals from the balance in our joint treasury, there would still remain, when we returned to Cabineau, about two dollars; quite enough, we agreed, barring accidents, and provided we caught fish, for the down trip of two hundred and ten miles to Fredericton. So all one night we rattled in a buckboard over the mountains. Continuous travel was essential to lessen the number of meals en route. How bitterly cold it was in the valleys! My friend, Arthur, ran before the horse at times wearing, for warmth, a white night gown over his clothes. As he was evidently taken for a ghost by some alarmed habitants, we intensified the effect by such noises as seemed appropriate to the spirit world.

One bright hot day was spent at Riviere du Loup, with the luxury of a sea bath, a few hours repose,