The hush of evening quieted the restless waters of Pelican lake. The sweetly melancholy song of the Hermit Thrush far away in the deep green of pine and balsam, drifted faintly across the rice covered bay announcing the angelus hour of the forest. I ceased my paddling and sat in silent reverence gazing on the flaming crimson of the western sky which silhouetted the slender cathedral spires of the spruces. Suddenly a loud halloo disturbed my reverie and turning quickly I saw a grizzled man of enormous stature standing on the rocky shore.