h its long roof and glittering spire and a tall elm
or two"; the elms, alas, have disappeared and now there are only
willows. A wooden bridge crossed the Murray and its large abutments
loaded with great boulders told of formidable spring floods sweeping
down the valley. A recent "eboulement" or land slide had blocked the
road along the river and men were still busy clearing away the rubbish.
Eight or ten miles up the river at the fall known as the Chute, still a
favourite spot for salmon fishing, they had magnificent sport. One Jean
Gros, in a crazy canoe, took them to the best places for casting the
fly. The first salmon weighed twenty-five pounds and they had to play it
for three-quarters of an hour. That evening when they returned to M.
Chaperon's, to feast once more, they had five salmon weighing in all one
hundred and five pounds and forty-five sea trout averaging three pounds
each. No wonder Gilchrist has said such fishing was worth a trip across
the Atlantic! The blot on the day's enjoyment was that in the July
weather they were pestered with flies.

Excellent sport continued from day to day. Once Jean Gros lost his hold
of the pole by which he controlled the canoe and it drifted helplessly
towards a rapid, Henry all the time playing a salmon. The man was
alarmed and knelt to mumble prayers but Henry caught up a board thrown
from the shore, gave him a whack with it on the back and shouted:
"_Ramez! Sacre! Ramez!_" The effect was electrical. The old fellow
seized the board, paddled with it like mad, steered down the rapid, and
Henry finally landed his salmon. Day after day the two fishermen drove
up to the Chute to fish until, after a fortnight, the river fell and the
salmon ceased to rise; then they went down in a large boat to Riviere
Noire, said never yet to have been fished with a rod, slept at night on
the sandy beach, but had no luck. Henry tells of an annoyance at Malbaie
that still continues; mongrel dogs ran after their _caleche_; sometimes
one would try to seize the horse by the nose and nearly cause a
run-away. Each cur pursued the vehicle and barked himself hoarse, and
then, when he retired, his neighbour would take up the task. At length,
after this experience had been frequently renewed, they decided to
retaliate. One black shaggy beast had made himself specially obnoxious;
with his thick wooly fur he did not mind in the least being struck by
the whip. So one day Dr. Henry got ready the salmon gaff an