never before has i.ll£‘tL b‘Ll‘t;tL:lL oi the Grand‘ which gallops between Elora and Brant- ford been run by ladies. Old canoeists told us we would never do it. Thg told our. boys I they'would regret taking us be- fore the first ‘night closed in; that the- cruise was too long, too arduous, too-ha.z- ardous; but our three Jolly comrades stood by us and declared that we girls would f‘pull throug" in “better shape" than

. many of the men they had" piloted "down

that. wild old«river, that is one long series of swirls‘ and rapids, from‘ -theimoment it breaks intothe Grand Falls at Elora, u‘nt11 it scampers past the pretty little city of- Brantford, ‘nearly 100 miles, distant...‘ In consequence of this we went- by rail to the. head of the stream, shipping ‘our ca- noesand kit the day previous.‘ 'O,ur,'three.

' craft were theregulationesixtéen-foot_ bass-

woods, ‘with thirty-inch beam and good, high-sweeping “bows. A weighed. over. sixty-five‘ ,pounds *1‘-and“ with our kitpwhich was light,-Candv-consisted of but absolute necessities, our entire outfit

. was but a feather-weight"compare‘d, to pthat -

usually carried by novices. at_-river. cruising. But we were all old hands and'very old campers, and about as“\,jo1iyj' a‘ ‘crowd’ as‘ you could get together—just six ofus, Mr. and Mrs. uBenedic.t’oVo uNvn3u and) urI\uCk,n the two boys (who had cruisedin :1. Bios Laker from the Brantford :1 _b_oat__house.-to

‘I’; ) ’—.- _ ., -.. V , _» -._-. ~a‘-;- ._ . . -.-we-:-" 1r’ul_g.}'-second '~ st: so t, new} .’§i’onk.yj£liiY.sg-only‘

at year or so ago)‘-and ’ men: Jeanette,‘ and myself. V Moreover, we were a religious’

87’fi‘f1t"f!‘1éIi‘d.

at

; , least at tendency developed, that_..,waY...,When

before retiring in thefquaint old-tlmehotel at Elora, we sighted" ‘ominous :-lead-colored clouds sidling slowly up from the sou- west, The prayers for fair.weather that ascended from" our usually thoughtless party would have done credit to a better cause. Nevertheless, despite our reforma- tion, at daylight on the long looked for morning I .

_ “Waked to the sound of rain," supplemented by the boys’ voices clamor- ing at the chaperon’s door across the cor- ridor, and. saying, “Oh! nonsense. we can never start in rain like this with the girls.”

The aforementioned door flew open, fol-

:(‘,_l.'1& 3-H‘. ‘

V

,.

‘

- t I x

, . ‘é o I

u.

LOVERS’ LEAP.

lowed, I fancy, by Mrs. Benedict's head, and a voice. that through its indignation I could yet perceive was hers, said: ‘ “Why not? are we so fragile,.that we cannot weather a shower? -Of course we shall start. Remember the taunts of- your angelic clubmen at home, the Jeers if we fail." . . I . . “And the cheers if wesucceed," answered Nip. ' . “All right, girls”-this soothingly—-"we'll start, but you’re mighty plucky, so get your ears back and hurry down to break- fast." And we did start, right in a down-pour of rain, whose mist and grayness shut out all too soon the long, little village of Elo- ra, whose site would be a fortune to it were some speculator only to erect .a sum- mer hotel therein. In the very ‘heart of the village the Grand Fall pitches itself over a hight of fifty feet, splitting’ at its brow against ‘crowned rock that looms up amid ‘ the stall like some huge obstruction hurled from -‘the hand of a giant god to stem the on- dashing waters that with reunited force precipitate themselves in myriads. of lesser cascades until, amid clouds ‘of spray and re- newed violence,‘ they leap into the canyon’s throat,’ whose ever-gaping granite ’ jaws await greedily to swallow the tumultuous stream into its immutable cavern, Imme-

diately below the fall the river twists itself‘

into the Corkscrew Rapids, then squeezes its breadth into the Narrows.’ after fling- lng past the Lovers’ Leap, a huge jagged ‘promontory at the junction ofthe. Grand and a lesser stream called the'Irvin, at

-Not ‘one of--them .

an anvil-shaped, - cedar-.

I i 4 it

.. ._: . V: -‘ '. 1/ I " ‘ W ‘ . .- . ‘ ‘I ‘~"“ . "'1' . .,_=... .. I 2-:“~ ,»,f,’,3..,4 . 1 —m o ‘J _ I , ,, 4, A . . ‘ /,1, T -~—»- ' 5: .3 -r'**l «-

’ ;- ‘kw ‘ \, ' -. pf-;:\\\\<.\\\ " J ___r_. 5* ’ (Wm

‘ :7‘ ’ _ ’ X. ' ‘ ' J ’ ‘Ir '_ » o‘ _ , __ e "“’ but ‘'‘‘_é :. A. ~‘ 5 . ,_ 3 ." -5 ; as 1 - :5 .:.-“:-—-...=s ...e -

~—

A‘ the vifoot; zgam a~ treacherous -1; I - .tut;.from.ieitherfirlofdtiiern,§”_'1‘hen. came the: ,_VI...:;.'. . ' .4cmegpeg,;_,=,dam,.;.,;,§;:grorg.?z-ingiitorrent ,;of har-j “

, .

av

pers who,. some fifty years ago,t',.‘wei;e ~ru'n- ninz this then)...-‘unknown ‘river; They had

.*‘,h_'o;;i'di of» .mizde.~%‘§A**'8mt.g<_:essfhl;§ “portage the:-eat. -e..»I.}a.uncli1ng" agai’n"i'n"" the

Corkscrew, they reached the Devi_l'sPunch Bowl withbarely their souls in their ‘bodies but their birch-ba.;'L_§.,__ guns, ammunition, and D1‘ovender.the river had‘ torn to sifreds be- yond recognition. So we decided hot to emulate these worthy pioneer Voyageurs- the rain was quite wet enough for us with- out trying the. river. ' «

We packed our kit in, Covered it with rubber sheetl, donned our waterproof coats, sorted ourselves into congenial pairs

. and, amid good wishes from the teamsters

ashore, we shot out into the swollen stream and the long‘. singular cruise began.

The only -things that made life worth _liv- ing that day were the beauty of the land- scape and—'-dinner. Our course lay through one of Ontario's flnest farming districts, for, after leaving Elora, all hints of stone and granite disappeared as ‘though by mag- ic. ..The world seemed to be just, waking to the realization that it had a boundless warmth of life stowed away under its brown bosom, life that was welling up into the trees, the simple wild flowers, the si- lent iields. It was the first flush of May time, and, despite the drizzle that monot- onously fell the ‘day through, we thor- oughly enjoyed. the beauty of shore, ‘stream and atmosphere. As is usual on a cruise, all hands clamored for dinner early, so we beached ‘on a sodden bank and hunted for as sheltered a spot as could be found. The boys built a flre in a little hollow that was rain-soaked and muggy. It was a marvel- ous feat, but boys seem to have Satan's

' , own command of flame, and in a half hour

we had a big pot of strong black tea ready for consumption. It is a strange fact, but I never tasted any tea as good as that the boys make around a camp flre. The only difficulty about. i,his'tea was, where were we to sit while —we..;drank it? Benedict had appropriated the only stump in the place. He was using it as a butl'er’s pantry, carv- ing the large rare roast of beef thereon. Fortunately for us, some weeks previous, a furious tornado had swept through this re- gion, uprooting gigantic trees, and one es- pecially for our benefit in this very place. We crawled up the horizontal trunk single

We ate our dinner in the available. . - _ _

After an almost gluttonous_Amea.1,'_vve re- embarked, covered a stretch of ten miles, then sighted the. tiny village of'B'_ridgeport, at a homely little Dutch inn, whose host, hostess, fires, beds-and supper were of the best. Altogether, it was good to ,,feel the warmth, dryness and hospitality of this quaint, old-fashioned hostelry, and.to know that, notwithstanding the merciless rain, we had covered thirty miles, -had not caught colds, and were all good friends yet.

Few people that see this gem river of Ontario know how importantly the name of the Grand figured in the early treaties between Britain and the Indians. After the war of independence, when the Iroquois adhered to England and signalized their in- tention to settle in her domain, the royal grant of land to “The Six Nations" com- prised “the territory lying within six miles on iboth sides of the Grand River,‘ from its source up to its mouth,” a tract that in- cluded a larger portion of the present Coun- ties of Wellington, Waterloo, Brant and I-Ialdimand. That was 100 years ago; and what have the Six Nations now? A scrap of reserve embracing" 53,000 acres of unin- teresting, timberless and in many places marshy land, while the garden lands of the river are again in the white man's‘ posses- sion. To be sure, the Six Nations have de- posited $800,000 with the Dominion Govern-

only dry place

which point the gorge rises - perpendicu-

'ment. It is the sale price of only some of

. . ~ _ ;~.'- . .\..e.- -t:‘-i.'a.!'..‘;

nnvnxs rimcn sown.

forward, while 'l.‘uc~.k (Tj3t'iar:_“rviclr '\v"e~.rnli§j§,Z

flle, and perched like a row of monkeys. —

nose to nose, as pretty a pair ofwhlte‘ swans as you could wish tosee. .1 lounged;

him, because he boré"no. resemblance '10»/;‘?a';7 divine) managed the steering blade andtlié sheet at the same time, quite a wonderful feat in such stiff weather.‘ We cut througliw some minor rapids like materialized light-V-' ning, splitting the spray into two gauzy wings over our bow .deck and otherwise raising excitement enough. to warrant a cautionary shout from Nip, who was spin- ning away» helter-skelter, narrowly escap- ing various boulders and half the time scaring the wits out of his bow ballast. Finally thewgale blew a regular rip-snorter‘ and with difficulty we loweredcanvas, for a bend inthe river brought ‘us dead against the wind, which blew. straight into. our teeth, and then we knew that meanifha.-rd work.. The "sails _stow_ed, we took. to the paddles,‘ and for an hourT I never put in harder work. We “sawed wood” right along, but the canoe. barely moved. Such a head wind blows only once, in a lifetime. Benedict assumed for himself the posi-

‘$»§_‘_-“'=“=="‘ \\ ,y"/// =-;§v"""“- *' \_s~ _ '0 ar :2 V If //I /f -— s.._._. ,/ , y//( .. . .’ // ,1 I / . “W ‘ I I v i, r ,-,- . '- Mv/ It.’ ‘ I1" [(1 ;.’!’f’/_i7. / 1

_{H

“TWO ‘ARTISTS JOINED US."

tion of Duke of Wellington. “Gentlemen," he said (we were all “boys” on that cruise),_ “your dinner lies on the other side of that mile bend.”

We earned that dinner.

After noon the breeze abated somewhat, and we sailed along in comparatively calm water until in rounding a bend we sighted the pretty hamlet of Doon nestling in its hillsides. One may not find this village on every map of Canada, but amongst b0-r hemians it is a household name. inasmuch as artists have made it a sort of summer breathing spot, where nature and study blend harmoniously. Before reaching the village we drifted by a magnificent elm tree that is destined to become" famous in Canadian art, inasmuch as one of the

try has reproduced it on canvas under various as-pects, until it is known far and wide as “Watson's Elm.” It is the most princely thing all along the river, and with its grace and grandeur is a fitting sentinel to guard the river. portals of Doon, the pillow of art. '

To give an idea of

.-u . ’

x , - ,9 rooms ., e .and what:;~:xs*".>t,€,ia.

B" skirling, ~‘_rollicking'."‘,f§.r_.: to’ forward. and

‘ "their endless,‘ ‘restlE88‘ Doetry-the W0!'1d.

most gifted landscape painters in the coun-

ithe quaintriess of this‘ village one has only to mention the’ primii-*

We skirled ‘silently “through “the pretty town and in an hour were drifting between the velvetiest banks and greenest shores in

lines, followed by a wee village called Glen- morris, whose Jexis-tence‘ is proclaimed sole- ly by the presence-of.,;a...sing1e stone build- ing and a_dam_,.‘ We,_.__ln;aved the latter in ‘great style‘, run_'nin_g:.i~,t ,s_ti'§.i8ht. With b0W plumb - .lit‘tl_e,“.crafts‘~ pitched, iqgpt, dipped,:;._;.;the{n ~'-royally through

iboys. - ran with . .., , .*$‘:.f11*1:”1.n‘<>;t *8-tt¢!i1pt; * ’ ~.-§§iidren""et ‘h1°,m¢.‘[[ . .1°.n.8e.1"~‘ _,z ‘ -I ,5é'giQdging" the gboul'- ‘

, ~,'., In

, gggge?j‘l‘;,,.xggg%gup,~;1ike mush- ’ moments more _ _ far sound that ‘ reaches _' ou1‘,:e8.rs‘3?7 The rapids at last.

.1

_‘above" their‘ .la_.ug'l_i__t@r.{Iithe", steady rush ‘of ' waters, « falling. ¢_s,th§gv:irt "_ another dam. “It's thei.stone,_dam,~_". shouts back Bene- dict. ‘i'Ha.ng...__o,_n all», look slippy, and we'll run .her.'.'y -~ ,a_ -‘ I ‘ ' ‘ r . For . ,reaso.ns.:.j’a idiots-j -tozolté .» ‘t ”

*

loo 8

'jf°I'§*?’h ' . ~‘ .. :r1§*_l.5i”3“°.“743-.7“.‘3... ‘t'ii‘“e‘. waif. .Th’en'.'“his, c‘a;noe"'1eapt. shot" out st_r'aight,; "was, -lost _.to.,* view, for a second’. Q{11,y,'t,.Q.1_.'_%eapI}e&lf. r‘ldi‘i18“’high. on the...t'erri- ‘ ble ‘ .ma;c1;"'. curling waves » ‘that .‘da»Sh6d« -hint about._l-ikwe:-.a‘st1raw. In another second. we were init, and tar two‘ minutes 1 think my eyes ‘stood out ;-flike -cannon balls. The‘ bow'.1iprals‘ed in.'.n_‘lidi-_ air, then plunged

Quiet-

wall of Vw‘ate'r_ right =ahead; We split 1191‘ crest in"twain, and I‘ got; about _two pails of waterslapped right onto my chest. The canoe lunged, ’.top‘pled,.~righted herself, then tmet thesecondy wave-fair‘ andsquare bow

we were.swamped,. but not a bit of It;

through‘ ‘we've;-‘~ after«_ wave until she dropped‘ into the comparative calm at the foot of her namesake._ - . ~ ‘ . G A shout of triumph’ arose’ from all hands, or father all throats; .and then followed a general breakfor shore, -where we emptied out the canoes and wrung out the cush- ions and kit. ' ‘

“What's next'?”' demanded Jeannie, who is the greatest dare-devil. alive (for her size). Some one " replied‘, “The Eleven Link rapids.” The.very name of it went to my head like winé. Full often had I heard of this famous stretch of seven miles, wherein eleven wildcatsfollowed one another like the links in a chain, with but-a. few Yards space between wherein you could breathe and grasp your paddle with renewed vigor.

"Tuck," ‘I said, “I. shall steer through these; you take the bow."

“All right,” -he assented. "You know best what you can do."

Accordingly I tucked’ his big‘ form 8W&Y forward, brought thekit aft. andv kneeling

for business. ' . .

There is nothing inplifeithat sends me as crazy as. a rapid. MY brain 8068 aflame when I see the pdistantwhitecapé. ml/' heart pulses wildlyzwith the iirst faint music of obstructions,‘ singing. .8111‘8‘ing’. laughing -holds no.-such music»-for me as the cool ‘calling ‘of‘wa,t¢:g_.=tha.t my-‘ ‘bow will kiss andi'cbnquer1.befbre,thei hour is over.

Tuck=‘sa".ld:? “Deni: get‘ reckless,- now. I know"whai:¥ you la.re».:_:in ‘axsnarl like this."

‘headlong into- a"'wave.»‘that loomed. a solid ,

The taut .~little > Wild Cat -rode regally '

the province. Then; came some bolder out-‘ ~ L

;;nenti.oned the Bene- '1 est-.»‘b_re’ak " under ‘the ' zen-:v;«#ha,si1a.’we. of

'’~‘ “ -""0." '

on. _.Another deluge of water and I thought I 4

“waters galloping. madly over. their rocky

plunge, ou1?"st‘urdyv‘])a-sswood shivering like 'an aspen, butdarting. ahead like an arrow leaving an Indian bowstring. Another dip, and Tuck got. a bucketful of water in the face, but he sat’ like a rock, while 1 shouted astern:. “Revenge, revenge!” An- "other shiver, a shower of spray, a dash of twenty yards, ‘and. we were in the first

paddle afresh, barely in_ timeas we hurled dashingly into the second rapids. and so ran, the Wild Cat, obeying my blade through ‘the entire Eleven - Links. after which we beached for dinner and breath, first patting her gunwales and telling her what a brave» old boat she was. .

Then a stretch of calm, silent waters, tired as a child after play hour, a run through the Town of Paris, a portage over its unrunable -dam, and we covered our -last stretchfor ‘home. ‘ ‘

gentle » shores; of purling, landlocked streams, of yellow beaches and of

Quaint -sand lper winging. 0'er-- the shallows, ceases singing Where we move:

‘Of banks. starredgwith trilliums and wild violets?“ of hills pyellow A .with dandelions, lagoons’. spiked _,with'.bl,ades of river iris,

‘.'-.-...‘~.:n;‘.«....-.."..'t.::~...¥ ,~ ~. . ‘

‘[“‘11!!'0:‘t11_O eaafivard--‘sky, before us lies Brant-.

As» hot’-solid: .:tho.e;1in¢r_€1§;..*V_v_e_,mgde__gur first H,_

"link." I snatched"oi'f.my'. cap, gripped my

Fifteen miles of alternate ruflied and *

l

"and then, =‘1’a_.tnilia,r__spires *and»-steep1es‘out-- N

D -. -‘

. ‘:‘.~.,‘~.- ,, 1- .‘ _'‘'.'‘ i‘.-" "*1. _,=‘ -.. ‘_ .‘ ' Z "‘ 1‘:

‘=~;'sm£3.a —. V '-.-.*....+. . - - -=« ' ' " . ,5 ',

-_ »'~ ‘. .y;:

at the stern t'nwart_,~I grasped my paddle ‘