Year: 1861

s.I wish you would tell me story,
Monsieur Scoreta," said | to an old,
white headed pilot Of the St. Lawrence,
as he sat in the house keepers room at
my uncle's, one cold, bitter night in
December, while the storm was such as
Montreal could only boast Of The
house keeper was his niece, and the old
man would come hither and enjoy So
cal chat, rather than remain alone in
his cabin, which was midway between
Montreal and Lachine. while a room
over the kitchen was preserved for his
use. He Was an especial friend Of my
uncle, and none were more welcome
than he Age had crowned his head
with hoary hairs, and many a noble
barque had he guided over the deep
water of the belle river of the Canadas.


''And what shall l tell you, love?'
queried the old man. as [ seated myself
by his side, and placed brimming COB
let of ale near by him to help his mem
ory in reviewing the past.


|'Tell ME story Of the St. Lawrence,
1 answered; something real and true.


For moment he was silent; then sip
ping his ale, he commenced:


MANY year ago when [ was SC
small boy as to hardly recollect it
now, my brother and myself were placed
on board one Of the river steamers as
cabin boys and walters, with a view to
become pilots when We were older
That was nearly fifty years ago. and
boats were not fitted up in the style
they are now, nor Were good pilots to
be found every day. We had run up
and down several times, when one morn
ing about ten o'clock, we stopped at
Brockyille to take ON board as usual, i
government pilot to guide US down the
river. 1t was late in the season; and
we had strong wind the night before,
| leaving the river rough, and our usual
pilot had hard work to keep the boat in
its proper track while it brought US
into Brockville two hours later than
the usual time. The clouds over head
still looked cold, and the wind blew
fresh ard strong, when, making all pos
sible haste, We again put out Of the har-
hor and were soon bounding on our way
Throughout the morning noticed al
anxious look on the captains face
which bespoke his uneasiness about tho
final termination Of our journey.


I'VE had good many passengers OF
board, and although we usually reached
Montreal by four clock in the after
noon, we should be delayed until six, i
not later. About ten miles this side o
Lachine a storm Of rain commenced
which rendered it almost impossible tt
guide the boat at all; while the rapids
of that name, the most terrific in the
whole river, were yet to be passed. The
pilot was one Of the best on the route
but a man Of passionate temper, with ;
peculiar dogged look. Between hin
and the ordinary boat pilot there exiSte(
an old grudge, which had once or tHic'
led to blows, when they came III ccntac
with each other. That morning ghil
passing one of the highest falls, the,
stood together at the wheel, when, ow
ing 20 the strong current of the waite
and the almost exhausted strength O
him who had guided us all the night
one spoke of the wheel slipped from
his hands and nearly caused an acciden
of pretty serious nature. This an
noyed his companion, and hard word
passed between them, since which tim


a sulen silence had been preserved.


"When about two miles above tn


Lachine rapids, some Of the riggin


afoat gave way, and the night pile


mounted the upper deck with ladde
and attempted to make it fast. Th
wind blew fercely, and while exertin
all his strength to stay the mischie
he lost his hold and fell, the iadde


coming down directly upon the head (