confluence of the Matapedia and Restigouche Rivers, known as ‘the
meeting of the waters.’ A railroad runs from here along the south shore
of the Gaspé Peninsula. The surrounding country is magnificent, and a
wealth of beauty is found in the river scenery and fine walks of the
neighborhood. It is one of the choice spots of Canada, and numerous
sites for cottage retreats and river bungalows will be found along the
valley of the Matapedia River, above and below the village.
The canoeing waters of this lovely district are exceedingly choice.
Very nearly all of the country traversed hitherto has been rich in
rivers and streams. In addition to the great inland sea of the St.
Lawrence, and all the numerous rivers previously named, the district
bordered by the Matapedia River has excellent water privileges that
cover a wide area. That fine river, the Rimouski, and the charming
little Neigette are within easy reach of the Métis River, indeed the
smaller river runs into the Métis; and the Métis itself is almost
touched by the Patapedia which runs on and connects with the Restigouche
and Matapedia Rivers.
Rich as Quebec is in watercourses, the province of New Brunswick, into
which we are about to pass, is endowed to even a more extraordinary
extent with those supreme additions to the beauty of a landscape; and
which provide, when communicating, such pleasant and convenient means
for going from one part of the country to the other.
[Illustration: Matapedia, Looking over the Restigouche River]
The system of nearly-connecting rivers just traced extends through New
Brunswick in a wonderful manner; for over the Upsalquitch, Nepisiguit,
Miramichi and other rivers, and by means of the Madawaska and Tobique,
and over the widely ramifying waters of the noble St. John, a grand
highway of water travel is provided. In addition, there is an almost
countless number of tributary streams that intersect the country in
every direction, and which serve to bring remote inner districts into
communication with the seaboard. As has been seen, some of the rivers
are very rapid—dashing headlong through rocky gorges and over stony
beds. Others are wide and tranquil, and some ripple a quiet way over
sandy beds.
Nor must the myriad streams of smaller proportions be forgotten—the
cascade, the brook, the clear and sparkling waters where fish abound.
Surely the whole of this beautiful country is that of which the poet of
olden days wrote:
[Illustration: MATAPEDIA VALLEY]
1. Meeting of the Waters, Causapscal
2. Tunnel near Matapedia
3. Meeting of the Waters, Matapedia
“The lofty woods, the forests wide and long,
Adorned with leaves and branches fresh and greene
In whose cool hours the birds with chaunting song
Do welcome with their Quire the Summer’s Queene;
The meadows faire, where Flora’s gifts among
Are intermixt the verdant grass between,
The silver skaled fish that softly swimme
Within the brookes and cristal wat’ry brimme.”
The Matapedia, or ‘Musical,’ River received its name from the sound made
by the wind in the branches of the trees as it courses over and through
the numerous ravines. The river rises in Lake Matapedia, and is over
sixty miles long. Its principal tributaries are the Causapscal and the
Kassimiguagan. It runs a rapid course between two extensive mountain
ranges, and terminates in the Restigouche at a point some twenty miles
south-west of Matapedia village.
Along the Tobique River are mountains and mountain ranges of great
beauty. Bald Head, on the Riley Brook, near the Northern Forks, is
nearly 2,300 feet above sea-level. The Blue Mountains of the Tobique
Valley are very picturesque—some rise as high as 1,200 feet above the
river level. The loftiest heights are attained on the south branch of
the Nepisiguit, between Nictor and Nepisiguit Lakes and the eastern
branch of the Tobique. Here a height is attained of 2,600 feet above the
sea-level. There are several odd-looking mountains on the portage from
Nepisiguit River to Upsalquitch Lake, and a good view of the surrounding
country is obtained by climbing one of these heights.
The Tobique is considered by many to be the most picturesque stream in
all New Brunswick. The fishing is fine and the scenery beautiful. Nictor
Lake is well worth the journey necessary to reach it, and the whole trip
up and down the river is a unique woodland and water experience. Near
the high land separating the Tobique waters from those of the Miramichi
and Nepisiguit, the highest lakes of New Brunswick are found, many of
them being over 1,200 feet above the level of the sea. The whole
province abounds in lakes. Those off the regular travel routes are
seldom visited, although they are quite attractive.
The Restigouche has been called the ‘noblest salmon river of the world.’
It is navigable for 130 miles or more above Campbellton. It has bold and
rugged shores as well as scenes of softer beauty. The country on both
sides of the river is exceedingly grand and impressive. There are huge
lofty mountains, often of irregular shape, covered with tall pines and
rich hardwood. Its chief tributaries are the Matapedia, the Upsalquitch,
the Patapedia, and the Quatawamkedgewick, or ‘Tom Kedgewick.’ The head
waiters are within fifteen miles of the St. John, and that river may be
reached by canoe with a portage of only three miles along the Grand
River connection.
[Illustration: The Meeting of the Waters]
The length of the Restigouche is over 200 miles. It flows generally over
a north-east course, and broadens gradually as it nears its mouth at the
Bay of Chaleur. It is the first large river to be met that is entirely
free of rapid and fall not practicable for a canoe. It is full of
windings and abrupt turns which add to the beauty of its scenery, and
where pools are so often found in which fish like to lie. There are
places where the flow of the water is so tranquil that it can hardly be
noticed. Others there are where gay and frothy little rapids bubble and
dance as they toss their white crests in the air, but here a canoe may
be poled through with ease. Even in those places where swirling eddies
and foaming waters are found, little difficulty is experienced in making
a way through to the quiet water above. In the quiet and still parts of
the river the fish are to be seen swimming about many feet below the
surface, and this is true, also, of the Green River, which connects with
the upper forks of the Restigouche.
[Illustration]
The Upsalquitch is a stream of many tributaries and sparkling branches.
It abounds in salmon and trout. It is related that on one journey over
this river the fish were so plentiful that considerable effort was
necessary to force a way through with the canoe. On another trip down to
the Restigouche a pool was passed through where not less than two
hundred salmon jumped and darted in every direction when they were thus
disturbed. These fish would only average about twenty pounds each; but
others weighing over forty pounds are frequently caught.
From Campbellton over the line of the International Railway to St.
Leonard’s, many districts of the Upsalquitch, Kedgewick, Restigouche,
Tobique and St. John Rivers may be reached.
The Nepisiguit, or ‘River of Foaming Waters,’ is a fine fishing stream.
But great as this attraction is, it has even a greater, for its scenery
is rugged, romantic and exquisitely varied. The picturesque Pabineau
Fall is a lovely sight, and the Grand Falls of the Nepisiguit, about
twenty miles from Bathurst, should be seen by every one. Connection is
made by a short railroad with the line of the Intercolonial Railway at
Nepisiguit Junction, near Bathurst. The Grand Falls tumble precipitately
in four descents through a huge rocky gorge. The roar of the water, the
foaming curtain of the descending torrent and the spray that floats some
distance down—all combine to make a striking scene; while the sight of
the river rolling away in the shuddering depths below has a strong
fascination for all. Above the Grand Falls there are picturesque rapids
where by walking over the great rocks—and over giant tree trunks that
have lodged in immovable positions in their descent of the river from
the lumbering region higher up—a good view of river and hilly banks may
be obtained. By going down the railroad for about one quarter of a mile,
and climbing up on to a bluff, a full view of the gorge, the fall and
the foaming depths far below may be had.
Pabineau Fall takes its name indirectly from the small stream Pabineau
that falls into the Nepisiguit a short distance below the Fall. It was
once called Pabina, and had the English name of Cranberry Falls as well.
Although the word is of Indian origin, its present form is believed to
be Acadian French, meaning the Highbush Cranberry. The Indians used to
spear a canoe-load of salmon at a time by the Pabineau Fall in the days
before fishery wardens were appointed to patrol the river.
[Illustration]
There are splendid trout lakes on the upper waters of the Nepisiguit,
and the whole region is one of the choicest for sportsmen, lovers of
nature, and those who do not mind being away from the towns. To see the
river at its best, it is necessary to camp out with guides accustomed to
the management of canoes, and who are also skilled in woodcraft. There
are many such guides living all along the lower part of the river. There
are some excellent private fishing-club houses, as well as a few where
guests are received.
Theodore Roosevelt, who, in addition to his other qualifications, is a
genuine nature-lover, scout, woodsman and Nimrod, is always at home in
the upper waters of the Nepisiguit. Of this country he wrote: “Goodbye,
lovely Nepisiguit, stream of the beautiful pools, the fisherman’s
elysium; farewell to thy merry, noisy current, thy long quiet stretches,
thy high bluffs, thy wooded and thy rocky shores. Long may thy music
lull the innocent angler into day-dreams of happiness. Long may thy
romantic scenery charm the eye and gladden the heart of the artist, and
welcome the angler to a happy sylvan home.”
The country just described is perhaps the best in all North America for
hunting and fishing. Some details and incidents relating to this region
will therefore be of interest.
The hibernating or marvellous winter sleep of bears is doubtless well
known to all. A large bear crawled out one April from under a bridge of
logs in the Upsalquitch district over which timber had been hauled
noisily all winter without arousing him from his long, deep sleep.
Bruin plays queer antics. A bear broke into a lumber camp, turned the
tap of the molasses barrel, rolled over and over in the sticky syrup,
broke open a flour barrel with one stroke of the paw and then rolled
about in the flour until he looked like a polar bear.
[Illustration]
An Indian without a gun was once chased by an infuriated she-bear, whose
cub he had stolen. His only refuge was a hollow tree, down which he
lowered himself with the cub. The old bear descended bear fashion, tail
first. The Indian seized her by the stumpy tail, whereupon he was drawn
to the top, and giving the bear a thrust off on top of the stump, master
of the situation.
A bear caught in a trap on the Patapedia by an Indian was met by the
hunter, marching around with the trap on one foot and shouldering the
pole to which it was attached, biting savagely at the knots and boughs
of trees he passed and inflicting terrible wounds on the defenceless
wood. Knowing there was a bounty of three dollars a bear on the New
Brunswick side of the boundary, the Indian succeeded in driving him
across the dividing brook. This done, he shot him and got his bounty.
Another wily Indian cut off the snouts of two large Newfoundland dogs,
and producing them to the magistrate demanded the bounty money. Being
asked for the customary oath, he said, ‘Swear me in Indian, me no
understand English well.’ ‘All right,’ said the unsuspecting justice.
The guileless Indian then swore in the Indian tongue that he had killed
two large black dogs—and pocketed the six dollars.
A story showing the humor of a Maliceet Indian, who was a great
snuff-taker, is the following: “One time I go huntem moose, night come
dark, rain and snow come fast; no axe for makum wig-wam; gun wet, no get
um fire; me bery tired, me crawl into large hollow tree; I find plenty
room, almost begin sleep. By-and-by me feelum hot wind blow on my face,
me know hot bear’s breath. He crawl into log too; I takeum gun, she no
go; I think me all same gone, all eat up. Then me thinkum my old
snuff-box. I take some snuff and throw ’em in bear’s face, and he run
out, not very much likeum. I guess me lay still all night, he no come
again, little while, bear he go O-me sneezum, over and over, great
times. Morning come, me fixeum gun and shoot ’em dead; he no more
sneezum, no more this time.”
When an Indian catches a bear in a trap, he apologizes to the animal,
and asks that vengeance shall not be taken for his death. He promises to
respect his bones, and this promise he keeps; for Indians burn bears’
bones instead of giving them, like other bones, to the dogs.
Bruin is often very wily. A bear once dropped to the fire of a hunter’s
rifle. Carefully reloading, the hunter advanced and poked the animal to
make sure it was not shamming. The bear was motionless. The gun was laid
down and a sheath knife drawn to prepare Mr. Bruin for the camp bearers.
Just as the hunter grasped the forepaw the bear raised up, and a
terrible struggle ensued. A son of the hunter was commanded by the
father to shoot, but the boy was too nervous to risk a shot. Finally the
hunter was worsted and succumbed to his injuries just as the son gained
command of himself and lodged a bullet in Bruin’s head. A singular part
of the story is the positive statement that only one bullet was found in
the bear’s body—and that was the son’s bullet that killed the animal at
the last.
Another story of a bear shamming has a happier ending, for in this case
the hunter reloaded and approached by stealth after seeing Bruin drop
like a stone to his rifle shot. This time the bear ‘came to life’ too
soon. He was found standing, and ready to give battle, until a second
shot really hit him and ended all shamming.
Fish stories are always in order in a fishing country; and when that
country is the best the world has to offer, the stories may properly be
of fair proportions.
[Illustration]
On the Nepisiguit River a 45-pound salmon has been known to leap from
the water into a canoe. This reverses the usual practice of suicides;
and perhaps it will be well to explain that as a fish has to jump out of
water to commit felo-de-se, the salmon in question took the easiest
course.
Squirrels in swimming across a river are sometimes swallowed by trout.
As trout have often been caught weighing six pounds, this story seems
quite credible:
On a trouting excursion in this region so many fish were caught that the
fishermen became completely exhausted through the incessant labor of
hauling in the fish. On the homeward journey they reached a place where
large trout poked their heads out of the water, but the fishermen had
not enough energy left to throw a line.
[Illustration: In Camp]
In good fishing waters, strange as it may seem, two trout have been
caught on the same hook with one cast of the line.
It may be well to remark that in Quebec and New Brunswick the system of
private leases of fishing privileges prevails. That is to say, the
fishing rights on a stream are either owned by those who have bought
land with river frontages, or they are leased outright by the Government
to fishing clubs of wealthy sportsmen who can afford to have the river
patrolled by fishery guards. A privilege may include the right to cast a
line in one pool, in a stretch of water a mile or two in length, or over
the course of the river for a distance of fifty or even a hundred miles.
Club-houses are built at the principal spots where the best fishing may
be had, and there wealthy fishermen make their stay in comfortable
quarters during the salmon season. At Matapedia, Campbellton, etc., may
be seen whole truck loads of large boxes some four feet long, each box
having one or more fine salmon packed in snow for transportation to
friends of the anglers at New York and other distant points.
The expense of maintaining the club-house, buying fishing rights,
employing fish guardians, etc., is borne by the members of the club; and
all things considered the sport of salmon-fishing is a royal amusement
costing a considerable amount of money.
The best rights are all bought up; but there are still some places, as
on the Upsalquitch River, where fair salmon-fishing may be had at ten
dollars a day and the cost of the fishing permit added. In some streams,
where fish do not abound, the cost is much less. Sportsmen should bear
these facts in mind before planning a fishing trip. If really good sport
with fine fish is desired, the best plan is to communicate with the I.
C. R. Agent at the nearest point to the centre selected, and he will
procure all the information required. If planning a trip in June and
July, do not wait until the fishing-rights are let out and all the
guides and boats are engaged—write in good time, not later than the
month of April or May, and have definite arrangements made well in
advance, including the important detail of where to stay. Some of the
best places for fish have neither cabin nor camp anywhere near. In
selecting a spot like this, arrangements for tents and supplies, teams
and guides, etc., should be made at least some months ahead.
[Illustration: Bungalow at Charlo, Bay of Chaleur]
_The Bay of Chaleur_
[Illustration]
Jacques Cartier entered and named La Baie des Chaleurs in the year 1535,
but before that time the unnamed waters had been frequented by European
fishermen, drawn there by the splendid fishing for which this bay has
long been known. The name ‘Bay of Heats’ was probably given to mark the
genial temperature of these waters as compared with that of the more
frigid waters of the Newfoundland shore. In very early maps it is termed
La Baie des Espagnols, or ‘Spanish Bay’, from the fact that many of the
early fishers were from Spain. The Indian name, Ecketuam Nemaache, the
English of which is ‘Sea of Fish,’ is quite appropriate, too; but the
use of the name Bay of Chaleur is now universal.
The Bay is more than ninety miles long, and receives the waters of fully
sixty rivers and streams. Sea and brook trout are found in nearly all of
these tributaries, and in many of them the finest salmon are caught. It
is rarely stormy, on account of the protection afforded by the
projecting peninsulas, and the outlying islands, Shippegan and Miscou.
The air is clear and pleasant, and fog is comparatively unknown. The
tides, also, are quite moderate.
American fishing fleets visit these waters every year. They may be seen
in the spacious harbor of Miscou Island when they come there from the
outer waters for shelter in stormy weather. The Bay of Chaleur has
always been a favorite fishing-ground for New Englanders; for it was a
Yankee captain of whom Whittier wrote in his “Skipper Ireson’s Ride,”
describing the punishment meted out to that hard-hearted man for his
cruelty in abandoning to its fate a sinking craft manned by his
fellow-townsmen.
“Small pity for him!—He sailed away
From a leaking ship, in Chaleur Bay,—
Sailed away from a sinking wreck,
With his own town’s people on her deck!
‘Lay by! lay by!’ they called to him.
Back he answered, ‘Sink or swim!
Brag of your catch of fish again!’
And off he sailed through the fog and rain!
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead!”
The land on the north side of the bay is very bold, and considerably
varied. The Shickshock Mountains, running through the centre of the
peninsula, attain a height of nearly 4,000 feet. The southern shore is
much lower, with occasional elevations. The outlying parts of Chaleur
Bay and much of the coast may be seen to advantage by taking a steamer
from Montreal or Quebec down the St. Lawrence and into the bay. The
boats of the Gaspé Steamship Co. run from Montreal to Gaspé and Port
Daniel, calling at Matane and many other parts of the south shore of
Gaspé Peninsula. The boats of the Quebec Steamship Co. also run from
Montreal to Gaspé and other parts of the Maritime Provinces.
A very good plan is to go from Campbellton to Gaspé by the _Canada_ of
the Campbellton and Gaspé Steamship Co. The boat puts in at many of the
places along the north shore of Chaleur Bay, and affords an excellent
opportunity for viewing the coast scenery. If preferred, the return
journey may be made over the line of the Quebec Oriental Railway from
Gaspé, its present terminus, calling at Douglastown, Barachois and Cape
Cove, etc.; or it may be varied by taking the steamship from Gaspé to
Grand River, to see the eastern Gaspesian coast by daylight, and making
the remainder of the western journey by train from Grand River. The
railway touches the towns and villages along the coast, connects with a
ferry for Campbellton, and terminates at Matapedia. On the return trip a
stop-off may be made at the principal places along the line. This trip
may be reversed and changed as may be found most convenient.
Presuming it has been decided to go all the way to Gaspé by steamship,
and to return by way of Grand River and the railway to Campbellton, a
description of the country traversed now follows:
Leaving Campbellton at about 11 a.m. and putting in at Dalhousie on the
south shore, the steamship calls at Carleton, New Richmond, Bonaventure,
New Carlisle, Port Daniel, Grand River, and Percé, etc., arriving at
Gaspé the next morning at 9 o’clock.
[Illustration]
The Bay of Gaspé is both long and wide, being about twenty miles in
length, with a width of five miles or more in its widest part. Rather
more than half-way in a small peninsula makes out from the sandy beach
to the south, and another from the northern shore. These afford
admirable protection for the upper water or harbor, where there is room
for a great fleet to ride at anchor. The view from the water approach to
the town is delightful.
“The mountains of Gaspé are fair to behold,
With their fleckings of shadow and gleamings of gold.”
Several rivers empty into the bay and harbor, there are noble hills
around, and behind the town the high mountains rise. A goodly fleet of
whalers and fishing schooners leaves from this port, and the smaller
craft with the numerous boats, etc., add greatly to the pleasant view
that meets the eye on entering the port. No better spot could be
selected for enjoying yachting, boating and fishing; while the cool air
and splendid scenery leave nothing lacking for the enjoyment of those
who come here. There are many visitors in the summer, and the life is a
pleasant and social one.
It was at Gaspé that Jacques Cartier landed, took possession of the
country in the name of his king, and erected a cross thirty feet high
adorned with the fleur-de-lis of France. Here, also, a great naval
engagement took place between the French and English, and here, too, in
later years a great English fleet arrived and captured the village. The
Gaspé Peninsula was formerly a province, with its seat of government in
this very town of Gaspé. It is now part of the Province of Quebec. In
this part also there survives a distinct tradition of the Norse
discovery of America.
The early Indians of this region are said to have been the most
intelligent of all the North American tribes or peoples. They were far
advanced in civilization, and had a fair knowledge of geography and
astronomy. In connection with the visits of the Spaniards Velasquez and
Gomez, and their meetings with the Gaspesian Indians, a fanciful
tradition survives in relation to the origin of the word ‘Canada.’
[Illustration]