By noon the whole outfit was at the river, we had lunch, and the men rested an hour and then we were off again.  A mile of paddling and two short portages brought us to the head of what the trappers call “Three Mile Rapid.”  The river was very picturesque here, and in midstream were great swells which curled back like ocean breakers as the torrent of water poured over the boulders of the riverbed.  I smile now remembering how I asked George if be thought I should see anything so fine as this rapid on, the rest of my journey.

Splendid as the rapids were, it was a great relief to reach smooth water again, though the current was still swift.  Passing a bend half a mile above we came in sight of a beautiful wooded island, and saw that we had reached the edge of the burned-over country.  It would scarcely be possible to convey any adequate idea of the contrast.  The country had been grand with a desolate sort of grandeur softened by the sunshine and water and the beautiful skies, but now the river with its darkly-wooded hills was not only grand but was weirdly beautiful as well.

When we had passed Mabelle Island the hills seemed to close round us and were covered with tall, pointed evergreens, so dark in colour as sometimes to seem almost black.  Always these have been beautiful to me, with a mysterious kind of beauty which sends through me feelings akin to those I had when as a child I dreamed over the wonderful pictures the Frost King left in the night on the window panes.  The river ahead was too rough to proceed along the south shore, and the men decided to cross.  It was very fearsome looking.  Through a narrow opening in the hills farther up, the river came pouring from between dark, perpendicular walls of the evergreen in a white, tossing rapid, widening again to one only less turbulent.  A heavy cloud hung over us, throwing a deeper shade on the hills and turning the water black save for the white foam of the rapids, while down the narrow valley came a gale of hot wind like a blast from a furnace.  We turned out into the river, and all paddled as if for life.  The canoe danced among the swells, but in spite of our best efforts the rapid carried us swiftly down.  It was a wild ride, though we reached the other shore in safety, and looking up the river I wondered what might be in store for us beyond that narrow gateway.  When we passed it would the beyond prove as much like Hades as this was suggestive of it?  It seemed as if there we must find ourselves within the mysteries.

After we landed, George turned, and in mildly approving tone said:  “I have seen lots of men who would jump out of the canoe if we tried to take them where you have been just now.”