It Is All Through Mantled Over By A Dense Second Growth Of Spruce And Fir Trees, Intersected By A Maze Of Avenues. The Lodge Sits Gracefully, With Its Verandah And Artillery, On A Peninsula Formed By The Grand Desert And St. Charles Streams.

You can cross over in a canoe to that portion of the domain beyond the river:

Along the banks, a number of resting places - tiny bowers of birch bark - dingies and canoes anchored all round - here and there a portage - close by, a veritable Indian wigwam - Oda Sio [293] by name. On a bright morning in early spring, you may chance to meet, in one of the paths, or in his canoe, a white-haired hunter, the Master of Castor Ville, returning home after visiting his hare, fox, or otter traps, proudly bearing Lepus in his game bag, next to which you may discover a volume of Moliere, Montaigne or Montesquieu. On selling Castle-Coucy, its loyal-hearted old proprietor, taking with him the guns of the fort, retired to the present wild demesne, in which occasionally he passes, with his family, many pleasant hours, amidst books, friends and rural amusements, far from city noises and city excitement.

Castor Ville belongs to the Hon. Louis Panet, member of the Legislative Council of Canada." (Written in 1865.)

Since this little sketch was penned, sixteen years ago, the unwelcome shadow of years has crept over our old friend, eighty-six winters and then frost has cooled the ardor of the Chasseur, Castor Ville for Mr. Panet has lost much of its sunshine.

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