A canvas tent by a glassy lake
Near the spice of forest pine,
A blanket spread o’er a mossy bed 
Is the home that would be mine.

A cooling dip at the break of day; 
The tang of a cedar fire:
A breakfast dish of a tasty fish,- 
What more could one desire ?

Then off again along the trail
The pastoral scenes among,
In single file with cheery smile 
And spirits ever young.

Day dawned to find the sleepers in the most ludi­crous positions imaginable and everybody complaining about their special bump. But in spite of the lack of sleep we made an early start paddling steadily for 2¾ hours along a stretch of low lying marshy land which was not particularly picturesque but interesting never the less. Jack and Franklin 'chisseled' on us by paddling through a short cut without telling us which made them get ahead of us by about a half a mile. They tied up to a buoy and went in for a dip while waiting for us.

After the long swampy section we were glad to fill up the water cans at the next lock and have a long cooling drink of good spring water. We all drank more water on this trip than we had ever done in our lives.

A boy had been drowned a few hours before we reached the village of Campbellford and as we glided along we saw men work­ing on the lad to try to restore breathing. Life, however, was extinct.

 [The drowned child was Robert James Ralph Emmons. Below is the report from The Ontario Intelligencer on July 29, 1932.]

Newspaper report on the drowning of Ralph Emmons.

 

Photograph of Healey Falls

That evening we camped Just above Healey Falls on a very flat rocky section of land. Several of the boys got some hay from a nearby field for their beds. This hay, by the way, turned out to be wheat. Rustle, rustle, rustle.

"Aw heck, this hay ain’t so hot." grumbles Franklin.

It was very hot that night and the mosquitoes were as bloodthirsty as ever so the second night was not very much better than the first.