By Florence Page Jacques
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Extra resources for Canoe Country
Then we saw why she had been gazing so steadily. Her spotted fawn had balked on the other bank. It looked at us with great soft eyes. We knew each other intimately, for one moment, before it disappeared. As we came out into Bear Trap River again, it began to rain. " Lee exclaimed. I caught a glimpse of something brown downstream. Then it disappeared behind an outcrop of rock. What did rain matter when we could realize our ambition at last? We tore downstream. There it was. A cow moose in the water.
Nor can I ever take for granted the wood fragrance, so different from the smell of the air on the lakes. I have pine scent inextricably mixed with portages now; one will always make me remember the other. As I was saying, on this portage we met a couple who had been fishing for deep lake trout. The four of us sat down by the black curves and foam white of the rapids and talked, mostly about trout. However, Mrs. Morse did mention casually that they had seen no moose this year but that wolves seemed unusually prevalent, and so they had preferred to camp on islands.
But that would not have been unnatural, after all, in this strange place. We heard a great horned owl call, far away. Darkness was coming down the hills. In the pale water before me, an otter curved momentarily, and the silver wake of a beaver flashed, far down the other lake. 28 At the inlet, we could see our small white tent glimmering in the center of the island, in the center of the lake, in the center of the forest. Here was the center of the world. Saturday It's cool this morning. I'm writing this in a tall pine wood.