My Husband Had Long Promised Me A Trip To Stony Lake, And In The
Summer Of 1835, Before The Harvest
Commenced, he gave Mr. Y - -,
who kept the mill at the rapids below Clear Lake, notice of our
intention, and
The worthy old man and his family made due
preparation for our reception. The little girls were to accompany
us.
We were to start at sunrise, to avoid the heat of the day, to go up
as far as Mr. Y - -'s in our canoe, re-embark with his sons above
the rapids in birch-bark canoes, go as far up the lake as we could
accomplish by daylight, and return at night; the weather being very
warm, and the moon at full. Before six o'clock we were all seated
in the little craft, which spread her white sail to a foaming
breeze, and sped merrily over the blue waters. The lake on which
our clearing stood was about a mile and a half in length, and about
three quarters of a mile in breadth; a mere pond, when compared with
the Bay of Quinte, Ontario, and the inland seas of Canada. But it
was OUR lake, and, consequently, it had ten thousand beauties in
our eyes, which would scarcely have attracted the observation of a
stranger.
At the head of the Katchawanook, the lake is divided by a long neck
of land, that forms a small bay on the right-hand side, and a very
brisk rapid on the left.
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