hree
flies attached to it, as for ordinary trout-fishing. At the first cast
three sea-trout, each apparently over a pound in weight, were upon my
tackle at once, and the consequence was a tangle which resulted in the
loss of my casting-line and flies.

But for the mosquitoes and black-flies, which are very troublesome in
all this region, there can be no pleasanter summer resort for the angler
and the overworked city man. In winter there must be an awful, arctic
dreariness upon the place, and I can hardly imagine any person not a
French Canadian or an Esquimau taking up his abode there. And yet upon
one of the most savage of these rivers--the Mingan, I think--an angler
with whom I am acquainted fell in with a man of ancient Scottish family.
He bore a distinguished name, and had probably once been an ornament to
the social circles in which he moved. When my informant saw him, he had
ceased to be ornamental in any sense of the word, and had long been a
dweller in the wilderness. In appearance he differed but little from the
dirty half-breeds of the coast. Like them, he lived in a wigwam, with a
squaw, and had around him a family of children so numerous and dirty
that they were a wonder to see. He had been there for many years, and
did not seem to think that he should ever go back to England again.
Society had galled him with its harness, and the "raw" was visible yet.
He was in occasional communication with his relatives at home, had a
small, but independent income, and was heir, I think, to a much larger
one. Occasionally he would make his way to the nearest settlement or
Hudson's Bay post, where he sometimes found letters and newspapers
awaiting him; so that, although a little backward as to dates, he had
still some general idea of how matters were going on in the great world.
Strong indeed must be the fascination of the free Indian life, thus to
work its spells upon a man of education and refinement like this
eccentric dweller by the waters of the rugged Mingan.

Among the creatures that visit the Lower St. Lawrence is the white
whale,--_beluga_ of the naturalists. On a fine summer's day, when the
water is blue and calm, these curious rovers of the deep may be seen
basking with their backs just over the surface, looking so like small
icebergs that they convey an agreeable sense of coolness to the
observer. At other times, and especially just about nightfall, they are
very active, tumbling and splashing and spouting in