noon
Except for a single canoe , laden with furs , and propelled by Indian paddlers , bound for Quebec and a market , we encountered no travelers . These swept past us swiftly in grip of the current , gesticulating , and exchanging salutations , and were soon out of sight . Our own boats scattered , as no danger held us together , and there were hours when we failed to have even a glimpse of their presence . At noon we landed in a sheltered cove , brilliant with wild flowers , and partook of food , the rearward canoes joining us , but De Artigny was still ahead , perhaps under orders to keep away . To escape Cassion , I clambered up the front of the cliff , and had view from the summit , marking the sweep of the river for many a league , a scene of wild beauty never to be forgotten . I lingered there at the edge until the voice of the Commissaire recalled me to my place in the canoe . It is of no consequence now what we conversed about during that long afternoon , as we pushed steadily on against the current .