"I shouldn't feel at home in camp unless I could sit in the door of the tent and look out across flowing water."All these conditions are met in our favourite camping place below the first fall in the Grande Decharge. A rocky point juts out into the rivet and makes a fine landing for the canoes. There is a dismantled fishing-cabin a few rods back in the woods, from which we can borrow boards for a table and chairs. A group of cedars on the lower edge of the point opens just wide enough to receive and shelter our tent. At a good distance beyond ours, the guides' tent is pitched; and the big camp-fire burns between the two dwellings.
A pair of white-birches lift their leafy crowns far above us, and after them we name the place Le Camp aux Bouleaux.
