There Were Maid Marion Falls, Where The River Drops Fifty Feet Into A Narrow Gorge Cut Out Of The Gneiss

And schists of the Laurentian rock over which it flows; Gertrude Falls, a direct drop of sixty feet, which for

Dignity and beauty is unsurpassed by any feature of the Nascaupee; and Isabella Falls, a system of falls and rapids and chutes extending for more than a mile, where the water poured over ledges, flowed in a foaming, roaring torrent round little rocky islands, or rushed madly down a chute. About half-way up there was an abrupt, right angle bend in the river, and, standing at the bend looking northward, you could see through the screen of spruce on the islands, high above you and half a mile away, the beginning of the river's wild mile race, as it took the first flying leap out over a wall of rocks.

The rock colouring was a deep red brown, and in some places almost purple. The perpendicular surfaces were patched with close lying grey-green moss, and in places with a variety almost the colour of vermilion. The country was not burned over, and everywhere the beautiful reindeer moss grew luxuriantly, setting off in fine contrast the tall spruces, with occasional balsams growing among them.

A mile and a half of very rough portaging brought us at 3 P.M. to the head of the falls, and there we found ourselves on a lake at last. Perhaps few will understand how fine the long stretch of smooth water seemed to us. That day the portaging had been very rough, the way lying over a bed of great, moss-covered boulders that were terribly slippery. The perspiration dripped from the men's faces as they carried, for it was very hot. The big Labrador bulldogs (flies as large as wasps) were out in force that day, as well as the tiny sandflies. One thing we had to be thankful for, was that there were no mosquitoes. The men told me that there are never many where the bulldogs are plentiful, as these big fellows eat the mosquitoes. I did not see them doing it, but certain it is that when they were about in large numbers there were very few mosquitoes. They bit hard, and made the blood run. They were so big and such noisy creatures that their horrible buzzing sent the cold chills chasing over me whenever they made an attack. Still they were not so bad as mosquitoes.

And now we were afloat again on beautiful smooth water. The lake stretched away to the southwest six and a half miles. We camped that evening on a rocky ridge stretching out in serpent-like form from the west shore of the lake above. The ridge was not more than fifty feet wide, but it was one mile long. The rocks were grown over with moss, and the willows and a few evergreens added their touch of beauty. These long narrow points were a characteristic feature of the lakes of the upper plateau.

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