on _trebogans_
through miles of the wild bush. One of two Indians whom he had with him
as guides died from the same cause. Sometimes hunters are seized with
what is called by Canadians the _mal-aux-raquettes_, which is a kind of
cramp caused by the pressure of the snow-shoe thongs near the instep,
not unfrequently obliging the sufferer to set up camp and rest for
several days before resuming his journey.

But summer is, after all, the season in which to enjoy best the wild
scenery and sports of the Lower St. Lawrence. On the north shore,
especially, rivers of wondrous grandeur succeed each other at intervals
all along the rock-bound coast. About one hundred and thirty miles below
Quebec the savage, gloomy Saguenay rolls between its walls of rock into
the St. Lawrence, which here is nearly twenty miles in width. A wild and
beautiful spot is the little bay of Tadousac at the mouth of the
Saguenay, with its curved beach of white sand. When I last visited the
place there was a post of the Hudson's Bay Company there, established
chiefly for the purpose of the salmon fishery. Since that time, however,
all these rivers have been taken under the immediate protection of the
government. Laws have been passed for the protection of the fish, and
they are rigidly enforced, too, under the direction of a Superintendent
of Fisheries. The result of this is, that within a few years the salmon
have gradually returned to many splendid rivers from which they had been
driven. The system of netting has been regulated so as to favor the
fish, although, as I am informed, there is much room for improvement in
this respect yet. It is incumbent upon owners of saw-mills now to
furnish their dams with "passes" of peculiar construction, up which the
fish can travel by a succession of leaps. The Indians are forbidden to
devastate the waters with the destructive _negogue_, or fish-spear; with
which weapon they used to mutilate more fish than they killed. One dark
night, as I lay on the bank of the Escoumain, one of the most beautiful
of these rivers, I was surprised to see a number of lights flashing out
suddenly over the dark pool below the lower fall. A horde of Milicete
Indians had silently paddled their canoes past us under cover of night,
and were now busily engaged in spearing the salmon. It was a curious and
beautiful sight to see these ragged savages, by the light of their
torches, darting their long spears into the water with wonderful
quickne