The Washington times., 1894-09-09
IN A CANOE CAMP.
Copyright, 1894, by Madge Robertson. !

are dH mere. Inc lenLS are pltcneu alonB IHo
shores Of lake Conchiching. where, not so
many years back, duskY Indian maidens
glided out in the shadows, their light birch
bark craft bearing them to mysterious cere-
monies or to twilight trysts with dark-skinned
! lovers.
There Is still the glamour of Indian legends
| around the lake; still suggestions of its early
! occupation in the naming of island, town,
| bay-the lake itself; and still the traces of
| vanished hands and feet in the old Jesuit
church and the now ruined fort. The canoe
camp, being, in the main, Il camp of youths
and maidens, Is fully susceptible to the beauty
and interest of its surroundings For several
| days and nights they live in an enchanted
land; and when they return, they are as
brown and breezily endowed with life and
| freshness as their canoeing predecessors.
We are all having superlatively good time;
but young New Yorker and a Toronto girl
| are at present discounting everyone. She is
a canoeist Of repute, even in canoe camp;
and he RECEIVERS from the airs she conse-
| quently puts on by talking OF what he did last
| y6ar as half-back. Perhaps of all OF US, they
| are the most enthusiastic.
At night her canoe is pulled up by the tent she
sleeps in. but with the first pink flush of dawn
over the lake she shoves it from the beach,
and, carefully kneellng in it, glides off in the
glory of the sunrise. She lives in her canoe.
In the dreaminess Of the noontide; in the cool
languor of twilight; when the morning light
Is sparkling, or the sun is dying crimson over
the waters; when there is crescent moon in
every wave or the stars are echoed thou
sand times-at these and at all other times,
when nature speaks to the worthy of her
children, she will let one of us lie in her
canoe, and be padded over the cool water.
l am in love with that girl myself. and so
don't wonder at the New Yorker. There is Il
streak of poetry in her also, as there should
be in every pretty wo man. The other morn
ing, the half-back of last year sat beside me
on rock which iutted out, and this Canadian
girl padded up to US. Come away, she
invited musically; Twill you glide in and out
of the rushes ON river-beds where it is dark and
quiet? Will you breast tossing, shining
lake? Will you shoot the rapids as I steer
you?
DO you not long to listen to the purling
OF foam athwart the keel?
To hear the nearing rapids softly swirling
Among their stones, TO feel
The boats unsteady tremor as il braves
The wild and snarling waves? "
She is quoting from young Canadian
poetess, Pauline Johnson, whose Indian blood
tells in her beautiful canoe songs, and, as her
words. cooling, soft, enticing, die away over
the water, is it ssrange that We are wildly
anxious TO go with her anywhere? She is
waiting, paddle in hand; behind her, the
shining background OF wide river with tall
pines On lne OppOsllc DdUh. luoIt are Il lew
dashes of gold over the blue duck gown she
wears, and ones eye wanders to the yellow
lilies near the bank and the golden-rod on the
hill beyond.
There is CLINT of sunlight on her bright
hair, and u bit of crimson on the top Of
which she calls with cheap courtesy, her cap
And when she turns her Drowned face to us
the crimson gets into lips and cheeks. But
when she smiles at the New Yorker and asks:
Wont you cOme?' he loses his head and
almost his balance and goes. l am left be-
hind, and unwittingly within hearing dis
tance. Sound carries maryelously over these
waters.
He is not an expert; she is. So it behooyes
him TO listen and obey The whole danger,
he is given to understand, lies In the embark
ing and disembarking. Once safely in Il
canoe. seated with his knees firmly braced
against the sides, any man can be conveyed
from one point TO another by any enterprising
girl. He need not be in the least alarmed.
Young Huytor's laugh echoed to my rock.
81 shall try and not appear so. >" he said gayy
And If you should manage to tip me over,
although l really don't see how YOU can,
continued Canada's representative, impor-
family, Il should simply kick off my shoes,
slip my paddle through my belt, and swim 10
shore. Where would you be? 1 don't know,
l am sure. l never bring out people who
cannot swim. Your feet are cramped. Well
it wort hurt you to put up with it for little
while.
The New Yorker expressed himself as
meekly grateful for her kindly consideration.
But even an impartial observer from the bank
would conceive him rapidly regaining para
disc. He is reclining in the cOzieSt of coucheS,
becushioned and becradled; a soft summer
sky above him; ripping lullaby cooling all
about him; the music of girls voice, and
the silver drops from her paddle making
melody with the waves; the late afternoon
shadows creeping out over the water; the lily
and the rush-beds enchantingly placid; the
unbroken gliding motion of the canoe; the
river winding away ahead-this is the best of
living.
He watched her, of course. She padded
80 easily, so swiftly. Her arms, barred past
the elbow, are sunburned as her face. and
equally dimpled. Is she a nut-brown Indian
maid taking him, a willing captive, to a far
off tepee? There is all the suggestiYeness of
early romance about her. All, the soft allure
ments of the canoeing girl
why do like canoeing better than row.
ing? OH a girl can manage it all herself
even to the getting it out of the boathouse
or mooring-and like to do everything for
myself"
fancied heard the New Yorker remark
that he had heard little of that sort of thing
last winter at Sherrys.
And then the padding is so easy. 1t is
most fascinating motion, don't you think?"
Young Huyter observed truthfulythat there
was fascination somewhere in the near vi
cinity.
Besides, one can face the direction one is
going-I hate not to be able to see what is
ahead of me-and one may see such beautiful
things before one, going up river like thisl
for instance"
Every beautiful, said her companion so
fervently that a dimpling smile flashed out. in
more than payment in full for all compliments
received.
"Of course" added the girl, Il have been
upser five times, but no one is ever alarmed
about me, and it has always been unless 1
have been purposely upset by my brothers
35p "a -