Montreal, a city rich in historic interest, was a place of great
fascination for the Comrades and their chums. It was Pod's first visit
to a city of any size, and his curious stares and delighted exclamations
were both pleasing and amusing to the other boys.
"If I didn't know better," Pod remarked, as they started up town, having
left their canoes in charge of a boat captain on the river front, "I'd
say Montreal was bigger than New York."
"Montreal has 350,000 people," said Chot; "at least, that's what my
guide-book says."
They were walking along one of the principal business thoroughfares,
when Tom collided with a young fellow who was hurrying in an opposite
direction. Each begged the other's pardon, then Tom uttered an
exclamation of delight.
"Well, look who's here!" he cried.
"Eh?" said the other. "Well, if it isn't Tom Pratt."
"What are you doing in Montreal, Sam Green?"
"I might ask the same of you," returned Sam, for it was indeed the
Bayville boy whom they had met during their summer in camp, and later in
New York, where Sam was a cub reporter on the _Leader_, his Uncle Jim,
who was one of the editors, having secured him the place. "And here's
Chot Duncan, and Fleet Kenby, and who's this? Pod Meelick, as I live!
Well, youngster, I am certainly surprised to see you up here."
"And this is our friend, Bert Creighton," said Chot, as the boys were
shaking hands all around.
"I am glad to know you, Mr. Green," said Bert.
"Same here," was the reply, "only make it plain Sam. Mr. Green doesn't
sound natural."
"All right, Sam," said Bert.
"But you haven't told us what you're doing in Montreal, Sam," said Tom.
"No; and you fellows haven't told me what you're doing here. Turn about
is fair play."
"We're on a canoe trip," Tom explained. "We started at Winton Hall on
the Hudson, came up through the lakes and the Richelieu River into the
St. Lawrence, thence to Montreal."
"What! are you fellows at Winton now?"
"Yes; we've just finished our first year."
"I heard that Truem Wright was there," said Sam.
"Yes, and he seems disposed to be good now, so we have taken him into
the fold. But come, Sam, what are you doing in Canada?"
"I'm on a two weeks' vacation."
"Are you still on the _Leader_?"
"Surely; I'm the police reporter now. I expect to land the city desk one
of these fine days."
"The city desk?" queried Pod, a blank look on his face.
"He means that he hopes someday to be city editor," said Chot, who was
familiar with newspaper terms. "And are you going to be a newspaperman
all your life, Sam?"
"Looks that way. Had a hard time at first. You remember when you fellows
were in New York? I was pretty green then, but I'm getting over that.
Being a reporter has lost its glamour now, and I've settled down to
business. They tell me I write some pretty good stories, and Uncle Jim
says he'll make me city editor just as soon as I've had a little more
experience."
"I'll bet it's a fine life," said Pod, to whom anything connected with a
city appealed.
"It is if you like it," said Sam. "Pay isn't great, but there's a chance
to make a pretty decent living."
Sam had turned now and was walking up the street with the boys. He was
thoroughly familiar with Montreal, and learning that his friends wanted
to see some of the interesting points in the city, agreed to pilot them
around.
They visited, in turn, the great Church of Notre Dame; the old
French-Canadian market place, with its French signs and throngs of
French-Canadians, who still adhere to the tongue and customs of France;
the Chateau de Ramezay, once the residence of the French governors,
where the treaty was negotiated that lost an empire to France; the
ancient Seminary of St. Sulpice, and many other spots, including a tour
along the river front, where craft of all shapes and sizes, from
ocean-going vessels to the smallest of fishing smacks, were to be
observed.
"And you say you are bound for the Thousand Islands?" queried Sam, as
the boys finally entered one of the city's pretty parks and seated
themselves on a bench for a chat.
"Yes; we expect to leave in the morning," Chot replied.
"In your canoes?"
"Surely."
"Of course, you know that you can't canoe very far up the St. Lawrence?"
"We can't? How is that, Sam?"
"The rapids, my boy. Fiercest things you ever saw. Reminds me of Niagara
above the falls. I shot the Lachine Rapids, just above Montreal, in a
steamer the other day, and I want to tell you there was some excitement
on board."
"And canoes cannot go through the rapids?"
"Well, I should say not--that is, going up stream, and I shouldn't
advise anyone to try and shoot the rapids coming down. It's bad enough
when you're on a steamer."
"But I understood that you could paddle all the way to the Thousand
Islands from Montreal," said Chot, a disappointed note in his voice.
"And so you can, but you'll have to use the canals."
"The canals?"
"Yes; didn't you know of them?"
The boys were forced to confess their ignorance.
"The Canadian government," continued Sam, "has constructed canals around
all the rapids, and there are plenty of them between here and Lake
Ontario, I assure you. Otherwise the steamers could not get back up the
river. But you can use the river part of the way, all right. For
instance, you first pass through the Lachine Canal. Then you cross the
mouth of the Ottawa River, and enter the Soulanges Canal, which enters
the St. Lawrence again near Coteau Landing. Then you can use the river
to Cornwall where you enter the Cornwall Canal. This takes you around
the Long Sault Rapids. You go from this into the Rapids du Plat Canal,
which takes you around Rapids du Plat. Then the Galops Canal takes you
around the Galops Rapids. That lands you in Prescott. From there on to
the Thousand Islands is smooth sailing, except that you'll have to
paddle against a pretty strong current."
The boys found a map in one of the railway offices, and Sam pointed out
the canals which were plainly marked.
"I'll just take one of these maps to refer to," said Chot. "Funny I had
never noticed those canals."
The boys invited Sam to go to the Thousand Islands with them, as Fleet's
canoe would hold two persons, but he said his vacation was nearly over,
and that he would be due in New York by the time the Comrades reached
their destination.
"I expect to see you all in New York again one of these days, and I hope
to be able to show you a good time," he said.
"Well, we certainly had an abundance of excitement on our last visit,"
said Tom. "What, with the burning hotel, and the chase of the smugglers,
and various and sundry smaller happenings, we were kept pretty much on
the move."
"Well, I'll try and see that you don't burn out next time, anyway,"
smiled Sam.
"Why, that fire was the means of winning for Fleet undying renown," said
Chot.
"Oh, pshaw! it did nothing of the kind," protested the fleshy lad.
"Well, you rescued Mr. Shelton's little child from the building, and we
got an invitation to visit his ranch in New Mexico."
"Did you go?" asked Sam.
"Did we go?" repeated Tom, laying great emphasis on the words. "Catch us
refusing an invitation like that."
"To refuse invitations of any nature that demand traveling is not in
line with the policy of the Experience Club," said Chot. "We spent quite
a bit of time in the west before returning to find that our parents had
decided to send us to Winton Hall."
The boys bade Sam good-bye with feelings of regret, for, while their
acquaintance with him had not been of an intimate nature, they had
always liked him and were glad of his company at any time.
Upon leaving Sam the boys went down to the river front where they had
left their canoes.
"We had better get out of the city before dark," said Chot, "and find a
good camping place, if possible."
"Yes; for if we spent the night in the city we would have to leave our
canoes with a stranger, and I'm not in favor of that," said Bert.
They found their canoes in the same condition as when they left them,
floating alongside the fishing sloop. The captain of the sloop, a
French-Canadian, sat on the deck nearby, smoking a short-stemmed pipe.
When the boys appeared he arose with a grunt and helped them from the
wharf on to the deck.
"You lak de ceetey--eh?" he inquired, leering at them through beady
black eyes.
"Yes; it's a fine town," said Chot. "We like it very much."
"Oh, Montreal, she pretty good place," said the captain. "I leeve here
all my life. I lak it, too."
The boys asked the captain to direct them to the Lachine Canal, which he
did. Then they paid him for keeping the canoes while they were up town.
He pocketed the change with an indifferent gesture, as much as to say
that money did not represent a great deal to him. Then the boys paddled
off up the river, past steamers and other crafts, large and small.
Entering the canal, which runs right through the heart of the city of
Montreal, to enter the river again at Lachine, on the southern shore of
the island, the boys paddled rapidly along.
There was a difference in the atmosphere, now; the humidity in evidence
during certain portions of the day in the early stages of their trip,
was now absent, the air was cool and invigorating, and while the sun was
rather warm at times, it was not that suffocating heat that made them
stop all labor until the air grew cooler.
Soon they arrived at the Lachine end of the Canal, and as they paddled
out into the open water again, and headed for Isle Perrot, which could
be seen in the distance, they could see the dangerous Lachine Rapids off
to their left, churning the river into foam, and roaring like a
miniature Niagara.
"No wonder they had to build a canal," said Fleet.
"It's a wonder to me that those rapids are passable from any direction,"
said Bert.
"But they are. See that steamer! She's just getting into them."
Following the direction of Chot's extended hand, they saw one of the
river boats which ply between Toronto, Thousand Islands, Montreal and
Quebec, just as she was entering the rapids. Swaying from side to side,
turning first this way, then that, as a skilful pilot guided her through
the safer spots, she raced ahead at a rapid pace, with all steam shut
off.
"Say, I'd like to be on her," said Pod.
"Maybe you wouldn't after you got in the rapids," said Fleet.
"I think it would be a fine trip."
"I agree with you," said Chot. "A little excitement is healthy."
Tom and Bert nodded their heads to signify their approval of this
remark.
"But we can't go everywhere or do everything during one vacation," said
Chot, "so let's be satisfied with our trip as originally planned. By the
time we've had enough of the Thousand Islands we'll have to make a
bee-line for Mortonville if we expect to spend any time with our folks
before the fall term opens."
"And I must go to Bayville. Mr. Hounson would never forgive me if I
passed him by," said Pod.
"Naturally not," said Chot. "He's your benefactor. You owe him
everything."
"I know I do," said the little fellow earnestly. "If it hadn't been for
him I never would have been able to enter Winton."
"I wonder how our telephone is getting along?" ventured Fleet.
"Very well, no doubt," said Chot. "Our folks have been making good use
of it. There was nothing to do but have the batteries restored
occasionally."
"And we'll use it again, won't we?" cried Fleet, delighted at the
thought.
"Surely," said Tom. "I feel that we had a hard enough time getting it
up, with Chot shirking his duty to talk to Lucy Pendleton, that we ought
to get all the good we can out of it."
It was fast growing dark, but the boys saw a number of lights on Isle
Perrot, and headed toward one of these with the intention of seeking out
a camping place.