an avenue of forest shade, which now and then opens just enough to enable you to catch a glimpse of the glistening waters of the rapid river, tumbling ever and anon over the impeding rocks. Here is a brook bursting from under some ledge that is overhung with gnarled birches or maples, and illuminated with nodding crimson columbines---then yawning away between its green banks, with a new song for every stone that trips its flow. The rapids you see at frequent intervals are beautiful miniatures of the grander scenes that charm the eye on the Ottawa and St. Lawrence. None of the hills are mountains in the real sense of the word, rarely rising more than eight or nine hundred feet above Ottawa; but they are frequently beautifully wooded and graceful in their lines. water. If we wander only a few paces from the road, we shall probably come to a sequestered lake, where the foliage is always green on the trees that skirt its banks and often dip into the A mountain lake like this is always beautiful, but still, some think there is a lone liness about it which is at times depressing. From the summit of a mountain you can see a vast expanse of country, and your view is only bounded by the horizon. Standing on the shore of the sea, your thoughts are not confined within the narrow range of your gaze, but every sail that floats like a gull on the wave, and every wreath of smoke that curls into the heavens, are so many connecting links with countries far beyond. The river, too, may carry you in imagination to the cities and towns, and unite you with the world that frets and throbs many miles away. But a lake, concealed among the hills, limits your view to its banks, and can never have for many the same charm as the illimitable sea, or the flowing river, which represent, as it were, the infinite. Gray boulders of every size and form seem to have been tossed by some giant arm in a fit of rage, and now lie piled on each other in a bewildering chaotic mass. Some distance up the river, on the summit of a hill, close to the road, there is lying the most enormous boulder that I have ever seen, even in this region, so famous for its rocks. It is as large, perhaps, as St. James's Cathedral in Toronto, and it is perplexing to think how so unwieldy a mass ever found a resting place on the hills of the Gatineau. Some believe that at some time or other, in a now forgot ten past—in a mysterious, silent geological era-great earthquakes convulsed the whole northern part of this continent, and formedthe hills and valleys which are now the characteristic feature of this region. Perhaps then it was that this enormous metamorphic rock was tossed from the heart of the earth upon the hills where it has rested for unknown ages. Or, as it is more generally believed, at an equally remote period enormous glaciers held this region in an icy embrace, and in their onward, irresistible march, bore this rock from some mountain of the north, and left it a monument of their reign on the everlasting hills." All through the Ottawa country we find similar boulders scattered indiscriminately in the valleys and on the highest hills; and scientific observers for the most part agree that they are the relics of the glacial drift. But none of the boulders to be seen elsewhere can surpass in size this magnificent specimen on the Gatineau. For ages past it has rested among the Laurentian hills, and there it will likely remain for ages to come, until it is disturbed by some great convulsion of nature's secret forces. About such a rock there is a certain solemnity which awes one of a contemplative turn of mind. There it stands, a cold, impassive observer of all the changes of time since the world assumed its present organic form. From the day it left its primeval home, it has seen the surrounding glaciers slowly melt away beneath some powerful atmospheric influences, and then the great pine forests gradually start from the freed earth, and cover the rocks of the primeval age. These forests, too, it sees disappearing in a day as it were, but still it looks serenely on from its ancient seat, like the moon and stars above its grey face, an unmoved silent witness of the mystery of countless dawns. Summer and winter equally afford attractions to those who wish to see this region in its varied aspect. The fisherman will, of course, visit it in the spring, when the numerous lakes that cover the country are teeming with fine fish. It is always easy to find guides and canoes at the most accessible resorts, and you may be sure to have all the sport you wish. Trout, bass, and pickerel are the principal fish caught in their season. Trout from six to twelve pound are not unfrequently taken by those adventurous sportsmen who do not hesitate to seek "fresh woods and pastures new" in the remotest parts of the wilderness. A favourite starting THE CANADIAN MONTHLY. place is Farrel's, a well-kept inn, picturesquely situated amid the hills, within sight of the rapid river. But it is in the winter you can alone form an accurate idea of the vastness of the lumbering trade of this section. The Hamilton Brothers, Gilmour & Co., Edwards & Co., and some smaller firms work the greater part of the country for many thousands of square miles on the Eagle, Grand Lac, Kazabazoua, Blue Sea, Kakebonga, Otter Lake, and other streams and lakes which afford facilities to reach the main river. For several winters past the writer, through the kindness of one of the most genial, hospitable managers of one of these large firms, has had unusual opportunities for travelling over a large tract of country which, otherwise, he could never have visited. The number and size of the lakes must particularly impress the mind of the visitor, who will see at once how admirably nature adapts herself to the require ments of man. Without our cold, snowy climate, without this network of lakes and rivers, this section would be comparatively inaccessible. The splendid pine forests would probably be still untouched, and silence would reign unbroken in a wilderness of shade. But thanks to the wise provisions of nature, many millions of dollars worth of timber has, in the course of time, been brought from the mountains and plains, and still much more will come in the future, if fire does not sweep the whole country and destroy what valuable timber remains. No one, unless he travels over the lumber region of the Ottawa and its tributary rivers, can form any accurate conception of the terrible havoc that fires, originating for the most part from sheer negligence, have caused in the forests. Between the Six Portages, and on the way to the Blue Sea, the writer saw thousands of gaunt, stripped trunks, all showing by their girth and height the great value of the timber that has been lost in this way. Driving further into the interior over the Grand Lac or the Otter Bleu, we reach a country where there is no settlement, and the evidences of fire disappear entirely. Here the visitor will find himself at last in a wilderness of pines. Roads branch off in different directions from the log shanties, two or three of which are to be found on every "limit," according to the extent of the operations and the value of the timber in the vicinity. Long rows of logs, some of enormous size, will be seen on the firm ice, awaiting the thaws of spring. The whir of echoed through the long avenues of pines, the axe and the cry of the teamsters are rewhich, ever and anon, sough and tremble as the winds pass by and embrace their bushy tops. the greatest of American poets : Here indeed we may say with This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines an Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indis- But the practical lumberman cares little for primeval beauty. He not unfrequently detects signs of decay in what the inexperienced eye would believe to be a remarkably fine specimen of the pine. At a glance he can tell you if it is sound to the core, or defective in any respect. Then, if his opinion is favourable, the axe is swung in an instant at its base, and in a few moments the noble tree begins to quiver, and falls gently among the brush, whilst its executioner stands carelessly by leaning on his axe, knowing to a certainty the exact spot where it must rest. out the Gatineau Vale, compared with what Game is not very common now throughit was some years ago, before the lumbermen obtained such complete control of the country. sportsman can find enough to keep him But still in certain localities the busy. Deer are frequently met in secluded places among the hills, and fur-bearing animals, including the beaver, but principally foxes, mink, and muskrat, are trapped by the settlers. farms. Bears constantly pay visits to the found that a piece of buckwheat was mysI know a gentleman-farmer who teriously disappearing, and threw the blame on a black cow which he saw once from a distance, and supposed had broken down the fence somewhere and strolled in, as such animals are fond of doing. One morning, however, he saw a large black bear quietly nibbling away at the grain. He chased the animal, but only wounded him at that time, and it was not till a week later that he was killed, a short distance from his favourite haunts. About a fortnight later the same person went after his cows to a pasture behind his barns, and here, to his amazement, he came upon a still larger bear, enjoying a feast of acorns. He crept home quietly, only a few hundred yards distant, and then he was actually obliged to run some bullets; but still he was in time to shoot Mr. Bruin, who was munching his breakfast of nuts quite unconcernedly in the same place. We rarely hear of these animals doing any damage to the young cattle. They prefer nuts and berries, on which they fatten wonderfully well before retiring to their winter siesta. Wolves are often found prowling round the more distant cabins and shanties, and you see their skins in many of the farmhouses, where they come in very conveniently as floor mats. In the course of my most recent ramble through the mountains, I had an opportunity of visiting the most curious cave which has yet been found in Canada. It is situated in the Township of Wakefield, some twenty miles due north from the city of Ottawa. A camping expedition through this country will well repay the adventurous tourist, provided he or she do not mind an occasional thunderstorm. I have heard of a party of ladies and gentlemen who went out during last summer with much enthusiasm to enjoy the beauties of nature among the picturesque hills and lakes of this wild country. It was very charming to young ladies somewhat bored with the dissipations of the capital, to camp by the side of the lake, surrounded by the pine-clad hills. How lovely the moon would light up the dark blue waters and shed her rays among the avenues of firs! But, alas, instead of the moon, there arose the most fearful thunder and lightning storm of the year, and the once hopeful party had to run from their white tents under the romantic pines, and seek shelter in a very unromantic barn, where the lightning flashed wildly through the logs ; and next day they returned sadly home to illustrate once more "the vanity of human wishes." But to the old weather-beaten rambler storms like these are only so many breaks in the monotony of sylvan life; they serve to show nature in her most awful guise; for the thunder rolls from hill to hill, and the lightning discharges on many a pine, and shrivels the bark to the very earth. The lakes of Wakefield are of considerable size, and distinguished by such trite names as Mud or Dam Lake, which, if not eupho nious, are at least illustrative of natural characteristics. Instead of clear, rocky margins, such as one would expect, and indeed often find, in mountain regions, we saw long stretches of mud, covered with a luxuriant growth of wild grasses, through which it was very difficult to pull the canoes. On all sides were large patches of water lilies, as exquisitely beautiful as the purest camelia or lily of the conservatory. In passing over the "carries" between the lakes-and it is rarely a lake is not connected with one or more in this country-the ground was perfectly gor geous with cardinal flowers, which were growing with a luxuriance the writer has never seen equalled in Canadian woods. Not in the tropics themselves are the azaleas or rhododendrons more beautifully massed than are these flowers of the Laurentian Hills. All the flowers of this wild section are unrivalled for size and colour. Nature here revels in proving what she can do among the primeval rocks. The soil, rich with the accumulation of ages and watered by the freshets of spring, produces flowers, plants, and trees of an abnormal size. Away in the heart of this wilderness, far from any post road, only accessible to the world in winter, stands the hut of a French Canadian, on the brow of a hill overlooking a lake glittering with lilies. The slope is so stony and precipitous that it is impossible to use a plough, but still among the rocks we saw oats and wheat, with a stalk of some five feet in height and well filled ears. The habitant uses a grubbing hoe to plant his little crop, which proves the luxuriance of the soil. If a man had a hundred acres of such soil, free from rocks and stumps, he would soon make a handsome livelihood. But it is hard work using a hoe among the rocky hills. The habitant who owns his solitary cabin does not depend on the little crop garnered from the stony slopes, but makes potash, for which there is abun dant material on all sides. The most interesting feature of the Wakefield Cave is the entrance, which lies on the side of a beautifully wooded hill. The mouth is almost hidden by ferns and trees, and is of an oval form. Unfortunately my exploration was only very partial, on account of my time being limited and the supply of lights giving out too soon. On this account, I cannot do better than give the reader a minute description of its leading features as furnished me by Dr. Grant of Ottawa, who has probably explored the cave more thoroughly than any one I know, in his zeal to make himself ac quainted with the geological attributes of the Ottawa Valley. "The mouth of the cave," I am now quoting the words of the doctor, "is fully eighteen feet in diameter, of an oval shape, beautifully arched, and having overhanging it pine and cedar trees of considerable size. The entire height of the mountain is about 300 feet and the entrance to the cave is about 100 feet below the summit. At the base of the mountain is a small lake, which discharges into the Gatineau River through a mountain gorge of exquisite beauty. Looking inwards from the mouth of the cave it is funnel-shaped, directed oblique ly forwards and downwards a distance of 74 feet, at which point it is contracted to a height of five feet and a width of fifteen feet. This contraction forms the entrance to the first grand chamber, 80 feet in length, 31 feet across, and 9 feet in height throughout. At the posterior part of this chamber, in an oblique direction to the left, is an opening five feet in height, forming the entrance to the third chamber, which is about 18 feet in diameter and five feet high. The floor, however, is covered with calcareous breccia to a depth of three feet or more. Looking outwards, two openings are to be seen to the left of the first chamber, one anterior, broad and elevated, and one posterior, contracted and shallow, passing obliquely upwards and backwards a distance of fully 25 feet. This chamber is entirely encrusted with carbonate of lime of a cheesy consistence, and in the centre a perfectly white column reaches from the floor to the ceiling, about six inches in diameter, formed by the union of stalactite and stalagmite. The anterolateral chamber passes in an oblique direction upwards, a distance of 30 feet, at which point the ceiling is fully 50 feet high, of a gothic shape and beautifully ornamented with stalactites and fringe-like encrustations of carbonate of lime. Some 60 feet from the mouth of the cave, to the right, is a narrow passage, rough, uneven, and forming the entrance to a chamber, the floor of which ascends obliquely upwards a distance of 30 feet, the height of this point being about 50 feet. On the way up, a beautiful arch is to be seen, above and beneath which this chamber communicates with the one entered by the antero-lateral opening from the Grand Chamber, and the light reflected from a lamp through the opening below this arch illuminates the entire ceiling of the adjoining chamber, and presents a rich appearance as seen through the opening above the arch. To the right of the oblique floor of the antero-lateral cavity, is an opening, horse-shoe shaped, scalloped, about five feet in diameter, and considerably obscured by the overhanging rock. From the body of the cave the passage leading from this opening takes a direction at an angle of about 25 degrees to the right. Its entire length is about 270 feet, height between 4 and 5 feet, and width the same. The floor is rough and covered with small fragments of rocks of various sizes, and from the ceiling hang many small stalactites. At the inner terminus of this passage is an opening more or less circular, about 20 feet in diameter, and the rock over it is concave, and fully 15 feet in height. Stones thrown into this well or cavity give rise to a loud, rumbling noise. Its depth is 37 feet, and the bottom measures 9 feet by 30 feet, on either side of which are two openings, one 5 feet by 12 feet, 22 feet in depth, the other 2 feet by 3 feet and 45 feet in depth. The floors of these lower cavities are covered with fine sand, and on every side are to be seen beautiful stalactites. On the right and left of the main passage of this well are to be observed several smaller passages which, from their narrowness, are entered with difficulty. Here and there in each chamber, particularly from the ceilings, are to be seen rough projecting portions of rocks of various shapes and composed chiefly of quartzite, pyroxene, serpentine, iron pyrites, and various mineral ingredients peculiar to the crystalline Laurentian limestone formations. In many parts of the cave, the walls, particularly those to the right of each chamber as entered, were covered with almost uniform sheets of carbonate of lime. The cavern is entered by descending on talus or broken rock; this is succeeded by a floor partly flat, smooth, and presenting a waterworn appearance." From the foregoing description, it will be seen that the chambers are, as a rule, small, and not very conveniently reached on account of the lowness of the passages. The atmosphere is somewhat variable, quite warm in parts, and lower down quite chilly, but it is entirely free from any deleterious gases. The evidences of the action of water are very clearly seen throughout the cave, and it may be surmised that at some very distant time in the past a stream of water-another "Lost River"— found here a subterranean passage. A careful exploration of all the passages will, in all probability, give us many facts, interesting from a scientific point of view. It would require a considerable sum of money to clear out the debris, and to excavate at certain spots in order to solve the problem whether the part so far explored is only the antechamber, as it were, to a much larger cavern. The results will hardly be as interesting to the world in general as those of Dr. Schliemann in the East, but they may not be unimportant to us who dwell in a region of rocks, where every day we hear of the fresh discovery of minerals. Who can say that there may not be some "treasure trove" in this curious cave of the Laurentian range? The River du Liévre also comes down into the Ottawa from the same region of rocks and lakes where the Gatineau takes its rise. It runs parallel, as it were, with the latter, and is a much smaller stream, but it is also remarkable for its rapid waters, its cascades, and its encircling hills. It is in the country between these two rivers that the most valuable mineral discoveries have of late been made. Valuable mines of plumbago, unequalled in extent and richness of quality, are worked in the vicinity of Buckingham, a village of some thousand souls, picturesquely situated, and containing several stores and churches. The discovery of phosphate is on a very remarkable scale, for there appears to be no limit to its deposit all through this region. Mr. Vennor, a practical geologist of repute, has been engaged in making explorations for some time, and is of opinion that the phosphate is found in a broad belt of incalculable richness, and indefinite extent, and that it must become eventually one of the most important industries of the Ottawa valley. Already people are buying up mineral rights in all directions, and the prospector with his shovel and pick is every day seen in the most secluded spots, where the hunter or lumberman was the only visitor a few years ago. Iron exists in great quantities, and of an undoubtedly superior quality. Mica is picked up everywhere, and there are deposits of asbestos. Indications of silver have also been found, but according to Mr. Vennor, what many persons believe to be silver is nothing but mispeckel, a sort of fool's silver. If it is found at all, according to him, it will only be in unremunerative quantities. But it is just possible he may be mistaken-just as he is, so often, in his weather speculations; for the writer recalls to mind the fact that even so eminent an authority as Dr. Dawson had no idea of the existence of gold in Nova Scotia, where he and other geologists had long been engaged in geological researches ; and it was left to a thirsty wayfarer to see the precious metal glittering from the pebbly bed of a little brook, as he knelt down to drink of the crystal water. The country beyond the river in the Désert has been very little explored, and the tide of settlement has stopped at the village, with a description of which I may appropriately close this desultory sketch. From the moment you leave the Six Portages on the Gatineau, some 70 miles from Ottawa, you lose sight of a rapid river and picturesque country, and pass over a comparatively level tract, covered for the most part with unsightly stumps and gaunt trunks of dead pines, and only brightened at distant intervals by a glimpse of a little lake, around which a young growth of hardwood and poplars has sprung up since the fires which have devastated the whole of this section. It was a piercing cold day when we reached the top of the ridge overlooking the valley where the Désert and Gatineau Rivers mingle their waters. As we drove rapidly along the smooth icy road there floated over the wind a sound as welcome as that which Whittier tells us delights the ears of the Red River voyageurs as they draw near the end of their bleak journey over the plains of the far North-West: Hark! Is it the clang of wild geese; That gives to the voice of the north wind Then as we rounded a hill we saw for the first time the massive stone church of Notre Dame du Désert, whose gilded image crowns the tower and watches over that wide expanse of country of which she has been elected the guardian angel. Adjoining the chapel is a building for the accommodation of the priests and religieuses, engaged in the education of the Indians of this mission. The village itself is small, but many of the buildings are neat frame structures, which were built in more prosperous times when the lumber trade was more actively carried on than at present. Close to the river side, but |