North America

THE RICH FOLIAGE OF THE RIVER. - COLUMBUS. - ROLINS' BLUFF. OLD TOWN HAMMOCK. - A HUNTER KILLED BY A PANTHER, DANGEROUS SERPENTS. - CLAY LANDING. THE MARSHES OP THE COAST, - BRADFORD'S ISLAND. - MY LAST CAMP. - THE VOYAGE ENDED.

A GEOGRAPHICAL JOURNEY OF 2500 MILES FROM QUEBEC TO THE GULF OF MEXICO, DURING THE YEARS 1874-1875

by N. H. Bishop

The author left Quebec, Dominion of Canada, July 4, 1874, with a single assistant, in a wooden canoe eighteen feet in length, bound for the Gulf of Mexico. It was his intention to follow the natural and artificial connecting watercourses of the continent in the most direct line southward to the gulf coast of Florida, making portages as seldom as possible, to show how few were the interruptions to a continuous water-way for vessels of light draught, from the chilly, foggy, and rocky regions of the Gulf of St.

ISLAND OF ST. PAUL. - THE PORTALS OF THE GULF OF ST. LAWRENCE. - THE EXTINCT AUK. - ANTICOSTI ISLAND. - ICEBERGS. - SAILORS' SUPERSTITIONS. - THE ESTUARY OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. - TADOUSAC. - THE SAGUENAY RIVER. - WHITE WHALES. - QUEBEC.

THE WATER-WAY INTO THE CONTINENT. - THE WESTERN AND THE SOUTHERN ROUTE TO THE GULF OF MEXICO. - THE MAYETA. - COMMENCEMENT OF THE VOYAGE. - ASCENT OF THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE. - LAKE OF ST. PETER. - ACADIAN TOWN OF SOREL

THE RICHELIEU RIVER. - ACADIAN SCENES. - ST. OURS. - ST. ANTOINE. - ST. MARKS. - BELCEIL. - CHAMELY CANAL. - ST. JOHNS. - LAKE CHAMPLAIN. THE GREAT SHIP-CANAL. - DAVID BODFISH 'S CAMP. - THE ADIRONDACK SURVEY. - A CANVAS BOAT. - DIMENSIONS OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN. - PORT KENT. - AUSABLE CHASM. - ARRIVAL AT TICONDEROGA.

THE DISCOVERY OF LAKE GEORGE BY FATHER JOGUES. - A PEDESTRIAN JOURNEY. - THE HERMIT OF THE NARROWS. - CONVENT OF ST. MARY'S OF THE LAKE. - THE PAULIST FATHERS. - CANAL-ROUTE FROM LAKE CHAMPLAIN TO ALBANY. - BODFISH RETURNS TO NEW JERSEY. - THE LITTLE FLEET IN ITS HAVEN OF REST.

All this preparation - and still more, the vexatious delays - had been a heavy tax upon us. We needed a vacation. We took it - six pleasant care-free days - hunting and fishing as we drifted through the sixty miles of southern Wyoming. There were ducks and geese on the river to test our skill with the shot-gun. Only two miles below Green River City Emery secured our first duck, a promise of good sport to follow. An occasional cottontail rabbit was seen, scurrying to cover through the sage-brush, when we made a detour from the boats.

There was little of the spectacular in our work the next day as we slowly and laboriously dragged an empty boat upstream against the swift-running current, taking advantage of many little eddies, but finding much of the shore swept clean. I had ample opportunity to ponder on the wisdom of my attempt to save time by running the Soap Creek Rapid instead of making a portage, while we carried our loads over the immense boulders that banked the stream, down to a swift piece of water, past which we could not well bring the boats or while we developed the wet plates from the ruined plate-holders.

We awoke the next morning full of anticipation. Something new lay ahead of us, a promise of variety. In plain sight of our camp lay the entrance to Flaming Gorge, the gateway to the entire series of canyons. Hurriedly finishing our camp duties, we loaded the boats, fastened down the hatches, and shoved off into the current, eager to be on our way.