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Leaving a long wake in the glassy water, as startled by some object he swims swiftly towards the islands amongst the reeds of which he finds a sure harbour. Not unfrequently I have seen a deer stretching across the head of the lake leaving behind him a wake like a steamboat. Nothing is more exciting than a chase in a canoe after a strong buck. On such a morning as this I would turn out an hour before daybreak & rousing Dash from his deerskin, would sally down to the wharf where I kept my skiff, stowing away a ration and a small bottle of brandy word in the locker and perhaps a lump of ice, gun, shot belts powder & game bag almost filling the little craft. I would stretch across to some of the islands which lie in the Detroit River (some 11 miles wide by the way) choosing a sheltered port in which to run the boat I would commence