The tribune. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, 1875-07-07
TOM GARNET'S DREAM.

In the month Of June, not many years
ago, it was my good fortune, accompa-
MED by some friends, to visit the Thou
SAND Islands upon short pleasure ex-
eursion.
Oar little party arrived ut the village
OF Alexandria bay on the American shore
late III the afternoon of sultry day, We
were wearled by long and dusty ride
across the flat country that there skirts
the great river, but soon forgot orr
troubles in viewing the glorious sunset
that we were just in time for. It was SO
early that we were greeted at our hotel
as the first guests of the season, and in
the morning had our choice of boats and
fishermen.
We had planned trip of dozen
miles or more up the river, with the
view OF passing the night upon one of
the Islands there, and of returning on
the morrow. AS our boatman rowed us
leisurcly along up the broad river.
around and among the islands, with our
trolling lines all out, many fine pike
and pickerel was tempted to take the en-
tlclng bait and was safely landed in our
boat.
In the course of the day one of our
fair companions caught two mas-guin-
On-ge. This was an exploit that she
might well be proud of, for the true
s-qutn-on-ge IL quite q rare fish even
in these waters, his native home. He is
one of the most excellent as well as one
of the most gamey fish in our Northern
waters, and should not be confounded
with his near relative, although greatly
inferior fish, the great Northern pickereI,
as he too often is. The mas -qui,s. on-qc,
give the old Indian name from Charlie
voix, often weighs more than fifty
pounds when caught, and is as sprightly
and rapid OF movement as the brook
trout. He often affords the most ex-
cltlng sport to the fishermen. and his
firm but delicate, light, salmon-colored
flesh is priced by the epicure. So our
fair friend suddenly found herself ouite
heroine among the fishermen, for
many an old frequenter of these waters
can scarcely boast of having taken sin
gle one of them.
Late in the afternoon we came to th a
little island upon which we had thought
to spend the night. There was a single
cottage upon it, containing half dozen
rooms or more, built for the accommo-
dation of transient summer guests, and
an ample ice house in which we secured
our store of fish.
The only guest upon the island when
we arrived there was retired officer of
the United States navy, who, when in
active service, had often cruised in these
waters, and had now come to spend a
few days in quiet meditation among the
familiar scenes of former hardships and
dangers.
Strangers meeting in the wilderness or
in lonely places like this quickly learn to
waive oil mere formalities /; 80 at our
coming, the old officer gave us at once
kindly greeting, and we were soon on as
familiar footing rs though we had
known one another for long intimate
years.
After supper we all sat out upon the
cottage porch that faced the broad, open
stretch of the river called Kingston bay,
Watching the coming on of the evening
shadows and listening to the soothing,
monotonous cry of the whipporwill upon
the Canadian shore. AS the sun went
down In splendor, beneath the western
rim of shining water, the report of the
evening gun at the distant British fort
in Kingston harbor came booming across
the bay. The sound of the gun seemed
to awaken tender memories in the mind
OF the old officer, and we thought as he
turned musingly away, we saw tear
trickle down his weather beaten cheek.
just as the sun was gloriously rising
out OF the cleaning sea of islands to the
eastward went out upon the porch.
The old officer was already there to bid
me good morning. In another moment
the sound Of the British morning gun
beomed across the bay.
81 never hear" said hs, "thas single