the pool, continued their pastimes, sometimes, as I could plainly see by the gleaming of their silver sides in the sunbeams, pursuing the hooked fish. I noticed, too, that as the fish grew exhausted, multitudes of large eels surrounded him, endeavouring to fasten on to the gills and throat.

After a good morning's sport, landing a dozen salmon and grilse between us, we returned to camp, and commenced the operation of splitting and salting our salmon. Ténace had hollowed out with his axe the stem of a large pine, in which the split fish were placed in layers, with a good sprinkling of salt between them. In the heat of the day, when the salmon would not rise, L- went off into the woods, accompanied by Ténace's son, Joe; and I, putting together my light trout rod, sauntered down the shores of the Basin,

to the mouth of a cool brook, which rushed down the rocky banks from the shady forest. The pure cold water, which is poured from one of these streamlets, attracts round its mouth multitudes of trout. In the present instance, I caught in little more than half-an-hour the number of forty-three plump trout of various sizes, the largest being nearly three pounds in weight.

Having strong tackle, I lost no time in landing them, literally hauling them up on the beach, before they had recovered from their first shock of consternation. So vora

cious were they, that having mouthed off every particle of feather and tinsel from the hook, I stuck on a piece of my red flannel Jersey, and found it answer as well as the neatest fly.

L- returned in time to have cooked for dinner two plump spruce partridges,

which he had shot not far back in the

woods.

During the three or four pleasant days we spent in the camp

on the

Basin, we frequently interchanged visits with the hospitable Mr. LMr. L, who is one of the best and most adventurous sportsmen of the United States, and who, I hope, will enjoy many another annual excursion to the salmon-waters of the British Provinces.

In the cool, delicious evenings we could sit outside the camps, looking at the scintillations of the myriads of fire-flies, and listening to the heavy splashings of the salmon, as they continued their playful bounds till long after sunset.

On these occasions, the garrulous Frenchmen would edge near us and recount their numerous perilous, though exaggerated adventures in the woods and on the river.

Certainly these men were the best hands at working a canoe that I have ever seen, and though when not observed, they are very much given to spearing salmon on the sly, are the best possible, and in fact, indispensable guides to the sportsman on the Nepisiquit.

CHAPTER V.

The Chain of Rocks-The Portage-Shooting the Rapids -Wild Fruit-A Picturesque View-Salmon PoolsA Fine Fish-Troublesome Mosquitoes-Spearing Salmon- The Spear-Assault and Battery-The Papineau Falls-Beautiful Scenery-Canadian WoodDucks-Catching a Poacher-An Eccentric HostLarge Quantity of Salmon-Return Home.

ON the morning of our fifth day at this camp, we packed up our baggage, and left, in the canoes deeply laden, the old camp, with three cheers. On arriving at the head of the Chain of Rocks, three miles lower down the river, the canoes were beached, and the whole of our effects, including more than a