The post-road, as the new St. John's road is also called, begins twenty
miles from Quebec at Stoneham, the farthest settlement. Five miles into
the forest upon the new road is the hamlet of La Chance, the last house
till you reach the lake, one hundred and twenty miles distant. Our
destination the first night was La Chance's; this would enable us to
reach the Jacques Cartier River, forty miles farther, where we proposed
to encamp, in the afternoon of the next day.

We were now fairly among the mountains, and the sun was well down
behind the trees when we entered upon the post-road. It proved to be a
wide, well-built highway, grass-grown, but in good condition. After an
hour's travel we began to see signs of a clearing, and about six
o'clock drew up in front of the long, low, log habitation of La Chance.
Their hearthstone was outdoor at this season, and its smoke rose
through the still atmosphere in a frail column toward the sky. The
family was gathered here and welcomed us cordially as we drew up, the
master shaking us by the hand as if we were old friends. His English
was very poor, and our French was poorer, but, with Joe as a bridge
between us, communication on a pinch was kept up. His wife could speak
no English; but her true French politeness and graciousness was a
language we could readily understand. Our supper was got ready from our
own supplies, while we sat or stood in the open air about the fire. The
clearing comprised fifty or sixty acres of rough land in the bottom of
a narrow valley, and bore indifferent crops of oats, barley, potatoes,
and timothy grass. The latter was just in bloom, being a month or more
later than with us. The primitive woods, mostly of birch with a
sprinkling of spruce, put a high cavernous wall about the scene. How
sweetly the birds sang, their notes seeming to have unusual strength
and volume in this forest-bound opening! The principal singer was the