Chapter 29

DONALD IN THE WOODS OF MEGANTIC.

This romantic region has been proudly termed the Switzerland of Canada. Its majestic hills--so grandly rugged--its placid lakes, and its dense and undulating forests lend an indescribable enchantment to the companion and lover of nature, who for the first time beholds their supreme beauty. The tree-topped hills in their altitude are at times lost in the clouds. The lumberman has not yet ventured to their summits. He contents himself with a house in a more convenient and safer spot. The monotony of the prevailing quietness around these spots is only broken by the tiny little stream as it meanders on its course to the bottom, where it refreshes the weary traveller who may perchance pass that way. Tableland there is none except little patches of less than an acre. The environments of this region are peculiarly suited to the nature and tastes of the settlers, who will tell you that they would not change them for all the gold you could offer. The means of access to the villages, away from the railway, are extremely poor. The roads--if they can be so called--offer little inducement to the tourist. The woods adapt themselves to the security of the fugitive at all times and during all seasons. In summer the verdant branches darken the surroundings, while in the winter months the drooping boughs, appealing in their solitude to nature, are sufficient in their loneliness to convince one that to penetrate into their midst is by no means a safe venture.

Yet it was here that Donald spent his days and nights at this period. Did Donald hesitate whether his bed was to be on feathers or branches? No. His friends were always his first consideration, and did he for a moment think that by spending a night at a friend's cabin he would endanger their hospitality, he would quietly retire to the woods. His bed consisted of a few balsam branches spread rudely on the ground, with the overhanging boughs pulled down and by some means or other transformed into a bower. This as a means of protection. When the snow covered the ground to the depth of several feet, Donald did not change his couch, but he made the addition of a blanket, which, next to his firearms, he considered his greatest necessity. He slept well, excepting when he was awakened by the roar of a bear or some other wild animal. Then he simply mounted a tree, and with revolver cocked, awaited his would-be intruder. His life in the woods--so full of exciting events--was pleasant and safe. He never for a moment believed that he could be caught were he to remain hidden among the towering pines. Often--strong man as he was--would he allow his feelings to overcome him when thinking of the possibilities which he believed life might have had in store for him. The constant mental strain under which he found himself seemed to affect but lightly his keen sense of vivacity. Wearily did he pass some of his time amidst the verdancy of the woods. The sun often rose and set