nation of this "rubble" and a troublesome rapid occurred,
it was only by the most violent exertion and no end of slipping and
sliding that the tension of the tow-line could be maintained on the
treacherous ground. Then, again, stretches of steep rocky bank, where no
tracking was possible, would often compel us to scale the rugged cliffs
and pass the line from one to another over various obstacles. Wading
through the water was frequently the only resource. This was always the
case when we reached a place in the river where the spring freshets had
undermined the banks, and where numbers of trees, stumps, and underbrush
littered the shore, forming _chevaux-de-frise_ of the most formidable
character.

The long daylight of midsummer in this subarctic region was a point in
our favor, enabling us to work to the limit of our strength. Here,
indeed, we found that "Night and day hold each other's hands upon the
hill-tops.... No sooner does the sun set north by west, than, like a
giant refreshed, it rises again north by east."

[At times they had to drag the boat up rapids, at times to
unload and transport it and its contents around falls by
difficult portages. Through much of the course the stream ran at
about eight miles an hour, but many rapids added to this speed.]

Judged by ordinary standards of travel, our advance up the river was
slow indeed; but to those who are familiar with canoe transportation on
Canadian rivers, I am sure our progress will appear respectable, when
the unwieldy character of our boat is taken into consideration. There
seems to be something positively personal and vindictive in the
resistance which rapids make to a traveller's advance into a wild and
mountainous country. There was, accordingly, a cumulative feeling of
satisfaction as one after another of these barriers of nature's making
were surmounted. In the swollen condition of the river, the struggle
with these wild rapids was often as savage and exhilarating as one could
desire. John and myself usually took the lead on the tow-line, Geoffrey
busying himself with keeping the line clear of snags, while to Professor
Kenaston was assigned the steersman's part. Bending to their work, the
linemen would clamber along the bank, dragging the slowly yielding mass
up-stream. Ofttimes the force of the current would carry out the boat
far into mid-stream, until the full length of line would be exhausted.
We could do nothing then but hang o