travelling,
although none too safe.

In the afternoon we sat on deck and looked at the water. What a charm
there is in watching a swift stream! The eye never wearies of following
its curls and eddies, the shadow of the waves dancing over the stones,
the strange, crinkling lines of sunlight in the shallows. There is a
sort of fascination in it, lulling and soothing the mind into a quietude
which is even pleasanter than sleep, and making it almost possible to
do that of which we so often speak, but which we never quite
accomplish--"think about nothing." Out on the edge of the pool, we could
see five or six huge salmon, moving slowly from side to side, or lying
motionless like gray shadows. There was nothing to break the silence
except the thin clear whistle of the white-throated sparrow far back
in the woods. This is almost the only bird-song that one hears on the
river, unless you count the metallic "chr-r-r-r" of the kingfisher as a
song.

Every now and then one of the salmon in the pool would lazily roll out
of water, or spring high into the air and fall back with a heavy splash.
What is it that makes salmon leap? Is it pain or pleasure? Do they do
it to escape the attack of another fish, or to shake off a parasite that
clings to them, or to practise jumping so that they can ascend the falls
when they reach them, or simply and solely out of exuberant gladness and
joy of living? Any one of these reasons would be enough to account for
it on week-days. On Sunday I am quite sure they do it for the trial of
the fisherman's faith.

But how should I tell all the little incidents which made that lazy
voyage so delightful? Favonius was the ideal host, for on water, as well
as on land, he knows how to provide for the liberty as well as for the
wants of his guests. He understands also the fine art of conversation,
which consists of silence as well as speech. And when it comes to
angling, Izaak Walton himself could not have been a more profitable
teacher by precept or example. Indeed, it is a curious thought, and one
full of sadness to a well-constituted mind, that on the Ristigouche
"I. W." would have been at sea, for the beloved father of all fishermen
passed through this world without ever catching a salmon. So ill does
fortune match with merit here below.

At last the days of idleness were ended. We could not

"Fold our tents like the Arabs,
and as silently steal away;"

but we took down the long rods, put a