Rod and gun . , on the property ofThomas Irvine. A few miles further on,at the bead of Lake Massanoga, we cameto the summer residence of Mr. Leavens,the genial post master of Belleville. is an enthusiastic hunter, and inthe deer hunting season may always befound with a few of his friends in hiscosy retreat, which is certainly a pictur-esque spot. Lake Massanoga is a lovelysheet of water, some miles in length, notwide but immensely deep in places, withfor the most part, densely wooded road runs parallel with the lake, andas 3ou travel along you are charmed bythe view of th
Rod and gun . , on the property ofThomas Irvine. A few miles further on,at the bead of Lake Massanoga, we cameto the summer residence of Mr. Leavens,the genial post master of Belleville. is an enthusiastic hunter, and inthe deer hunting season may always befound with a few of his friends in hiscosy retreat, which is certainly a pictur-esque spot. Lake Massanoga is a lovelysheet of water, some miles in length, notwide but immensely deep in places, withfor the most part, densely wooded road runs parallel with the lake, andas 3ou travel along you are charmed bythe view of the calm water, and on theopposite side with what is designated asThe Gibralter of Canada. This greatstone mountain, nearly a mile in length,hundreds of feet high, rising perpendicu-larly out of the waters of the lake, is in amanner awe inspiring, but withal im-pressively beautiful. In its shadowsnestles what is called Bon Echo Inn, saidto be a popular summer hotel, thoughknown to comparatively few. If easier of. J. W. Morden and His 200 Pound Buck. access and more in touch with civiliza-tion, it should be a charming resort forthose who wish to get near to Nature. Arriving at Cloyne in the evening, wedrove into a barn belonging to the stagedriver, where our game and dogs remain-ed for the night. Cloyne is as far northas the stage ventures on that road. Earlynext morning after transferring our bag-gage to the stage, and saying good-bye toMr. James Irvine, who had kindly driv-en me out that far, I headed for the sta-tion, a distance of sixteen miles. Whilemail was being changed at a post officecalled Northbrooke, I was approached bya stately elderly gentleman, with rifle inhand, who after scanning the game in thewagon turned his eagle eye on me. An-swering satisfactorily some interroga-tions on his part, he vouchsafed the infor-mation that he was a game warden. Be-ing found not guilty I was allowed toproceed, and about the noon hour sightedKaladar Station. After feeding andchecking
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectf, booksubjecthunting
