Haw-Ho-Noo; Or, Records of a TouristLanman, Charles
History
Haw-Ho-Noo; Or, Records of a Tourist
Lanman, Charles
Fishing -- North America; United States -- Description and travel
Had we been inclined to doubt any of the assertions of our friend in
regard to his good living, all such doubts would have been most
assuredly dispelled by what we witnessed and enjoyed before closing our
eyes on the night in question. Having taken us to the fishing ground
lying nearest to his cabin, for the purpose of letting us see how the
salmon were taken in the circular set nets (into which they swam on
their way up stream when the tide was high, and from which they were
taken by the hundred when the tide was low), he picked out a splendid
twenty pound fish, and piloted us back again to his dwelling. He then
excused himself from further waiting upon us, and, begging us to amuse
ourselves by _examining his plants_, or doing anything else we pleased,
he informed us that he must assist his wife in preparing our supper. We
bowed our most willing assent, and as the sun was near his setting, we
ascended a neighboring knoll for the purpose of enjoying the extensive
prospect which presented itself to view.
We were looking towards the south, and across that portion of the noble
St. Lawrence where it is without an island, and its shores are
twenty-five miles apart. The retinue of clouds around the setting sun
were brilliant to a marvelous degree, and were distinctly mirrored on
the tranquil bosom of the superb river. In the distance we could barely
discover the southern shore, forming a long narrow line of purple; about
a dozen miles to the eastward one solitary ship lay floating at the
mercy of the tide, and in the foreground was the cabin of our
entertainer, partly hidden from our view by a few stunted trees, and
apparently hemmed in by inaccessible mountains, while before the cabin
lay extended some half dozen immense mongrel dogs, which were the only
living creatures, besides ourselves, tending to animate the lonely
scene. Silently communing with our own hearts, we watched with peculiar
interest the coming forth, one after another, of the beautiful stars,
and we could not but think of our distant homes, and of the ties which
bound us to the absent and loved. One moment more, and we heard a loud
hallo, which came from the lungs of our Canadian friend, who informed us
that supper was ready, whereupon we descended to the cabin at a pace
bordering upon a run.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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