These “beasties” chiefly delight in biting the sides of the throat, ears, and sides of the cheek, and with me the swelling continues for many days.  The mosquitoes are also very annoying.  I care more for the noise they make even than their sting.  To keep them out of the house we light little heaps of damp chips, the smoke of which drives them away; but this remedy is not entirely effectual, and is of itself rather an annoyance.

This is the fishing season.  Our lakes are famous for masquinonge, salmon-trout, white fish, black bass, and many others.  We often see the lighted canoes of the fishermen pass and repass of a dark night before our door.  S------ is considered very skilful as a spearsman, and enjoys the sport so much that he seldom misses a night favourable for it.  The darker the night and the calmer the water the better it is for the fishing.

It is a very pretty sight to see these little barks slowly stealing from some cove of the dark pine-clad shores, and manoeuvring among the islands on the lakes, rendered visible in the darkness by the blaze of light cast on the water from the jack—­a sort of open grated iron basket, fixed to a long pole at the bows of the skiff or canoe.  This is filled with a very combustible substance called fat-pine, which burns with a fierce and rapid flame, or else with rolls of birch-bark, which is also very easily ignited.

The light from above renders objects distinctly visible below the surface of the water.  One person stands up in the middle of the boat with his fish-spear—­a sort of iron trident, ready to strike at the fish that he may chance to see gliding in the still waters, while another with his paddle steers the canoe cautiously along.  This sport requires a quick eye, a steady hand, and great caution in those that pursue it.

I delight in watching these torch-lighted canoes so quietly gliding over the calm waters, which are illuminated for yards with a bright track of light, by which we may distinctly perceive the figure of the spearsman standing in the centre of the boat, first glancing to one side, then the other, or poising his weapon ready for a blow.  When four or five of these lighted vessels are seen at once on the fishing-ground, the effect is striking and splendid.

The Indians are very expert in this kind of fishing; the squaws paddling the canoes with admirable skill and dexterity.  There is another mode of fishing in which these people also excel:  this is fishing on the ice when the lakes are frozen over—­a sport that requires the exercise of great patience.  The Indian, provided with his tomahawk, with which he makes an opening in the ice, a spear, his blanket, and a decoy-fish of wood, proceeds to the place he has fixed upon.  Having cut a hole in the ice he places himself on hands and knees, and casts his blanket over him, so as to darken the water and conceal himself from observation; in this position he will remain for hours, patiently watching the approach of his prey, which he strikes with admirable precision as soon as it appears within the reach of his spear.