She was now dreadfully alarmed, for night was fast coming on, and she did not know whether she was on the right track or not.  Fortunately, a light through the trees extricated her from this dilemma:  her only uneasiness was now for her child.  She was soon, however, relieved from this uncertainty; for, on entering the house, there sat the man with the baby on his knee.  The child appeared to be on very friendly terms with him, and had, no doubt, enjoyed herself amazingly while her bearer was running away with her.

He at once restored the child to her mother’s arms, observing, “that he hoped she would give him the price of a quart of whiskey for his trouble, for the child was main heavy, God bless her.”

My wife, of course, did not dispute the payment.  She was only too glad to recover her little pet, whom she took good care not again to trust to masculine keeping, however tired she might be.  So Maria remained safely in her mother’s arms, for the remainder of the journey.

At length, when down-hearted and weary, the bright waters of the Huron gladdened their eyes, on the morning of the sixth day, and a few minutes afterwards they took possession of my log-cabin, and gave me the happy surprise already recorded.

“I wonder you were not afraid of encountering such hardships, and even danger, in travelling so many miles through the wild woods and on foot, and with that heavy child to carry in your arms,” was my remark to my enterprising wife.  She replied, “that there had certainly been more difficulties than she had anticipated; but had they been double, it would not have prevented her from joining me.”  So much for woman’s love and devotion.

During the summer months, we were plentifully supplied with fish.  On some days the harbour appeared to swarm with them.  When the sun shone brightly, you could see hundreds lying near the surface.  There was no difficulty in catching them, for the moment you threw in your bait, you had a fish on your hook.

In the early part of the season, I used to make an imitation mouse of a piece of musk-rat fur.  This is a killing bait for trolling either for black bass or maskilonge—­as the season advances, a red and white rag, or a small green-frog.  But the best bait for the larger fish, such as salmon-trout and maskilonge, is a piece of brass, or copper, about the shape and size of the bowl of a tablespoon, with a large hook soldered upon the narrow end.  If properly made, and drawn fast through the water, it will spin round and glitter, and thus is sure to attract the fish.  I have caught hundreds by this method, and can therefore recommend it as the most certain.  Your trolling line, which is attached to your left arm, should not be less than eighty or a hundred feet in length, and sufficiently leaded to sink the bait three or four feet beneath the surface, this line following the canoe as you paddle it swiftly through the water.

The scenery up the Maitland, from the harbour’s mouth to the flats, or natural meadows, two miles from the lake, is very pretty and interesting.  I think it would be difficult to find for a summer residence a more charming situation than the town of Goderich, and I might say with equal confidence, a more healthy one.  The water is excellent, and the town-plot abounds with copious springs.