Now and then, a roaring veering cloud of pigeons passed in the upper air.

The breath of the river was sweet with the fragrance of pine and balsam.
We were going around a bend when we heard the voice of Bill shouting just above us.

He had run the bow of his canoe on a gravel beach just below a little waterfall and a great trout was flopping and tumbling about in the grass beside him.
"Yip!" he shouted as he held up the radiant, struggling fish that reached from his chin to his belt.

"I tell ye boys they're goin' to be sassy as the devil.

Jump out an' go to work here." With what emotions I leaped out upon the gravel and watched the fishing! A new expression came into the faces of the men.