The trout had moved from their, former locality, but were plentiful as ever, enabling us to satisfy our desires and return early to camp, with one fish of four pounds and several of three. During the day there was a sudden change of temperature, preceded by a furious attack from the brulots upon our unhappy persons. Apparently anticipating the advent of cold weather and partial lethargy, they satiated their appetites with our blood, in spite of ointments and veils.
During our absence a party of fishermen had arrived from the Sault, and finding our camp, located themselves a few hundred yards below us. As we descended the river next morning, we stopped to exchange salutations and inform them of the condition of the fishing. Being ourselves abundantly satisfied with killing trout, we proposed making a short visit to the romantic Harmony before returning to the Sault, and left the strangers in the sole possession of the Batchawaung.
We found the Harmony lower and warmer than we had left it, almost deserted by trout, but otherwise as beautiful and picturesque as ever. We lingered round the falls, and listened to the noisy cascade, drank from the ice-cold spring, shot a few ducks on the lower stretch of water, killed a dozen fine trout at the upper shute, and indulged in the luxury of laziness.
Don had been heretofore as active as any member of the party, often up the first and to bed the last; frequently rousing the guides from their slumbers by a loon-like call, repeated until they appeared; but on our first morning at the Harmony he positively refused to get up, and to my persistent entreaties, replied in a despondent voice:
“It is no use; you give me no rest, keep me up every night till eleven, work me to death all day, and let the flies and mosquitoes annoy me without cessation. I will stand it no longer, and intend to sleep as late as I please.”
“But, Don, breakfast is ready, and you will lose it.”
“Then I shall have a second breakfast. You feed me on pork, and trout, and ducks, till I am tired of them, and get no nourishment from the endless repetition.”
“I have made a beautiful omelet this morning, and it will be ruined.”
“Then make me another—we have plenty of eggs—or I will make it for myself.”
“But you will miss the morning’s fishing.”