Just two or three hours north from the heavily-populated parts of southern Ontario, as the wild geese fly, stretches a profusion of wilderness lakes, rivers and streams. Interconnected by overland portages, the pineclad lakeshores become a natural highway to the deeper, more secret, fastnesses of the forest lands when travelled by canoe. Every summer, as the days lengthen and the high-riding sun pours its life-giving energy upon the tall canopy of trees below, groups of canoeists paddle their way from lake to lake, spending days and weeks exploring the varied moods of nature. Always there is another rocky headland or point to pass, always another vista of blue sky, wind-ruffled bay, mirror-smooth lily pond, or stand of tall timber. On the portages canoes are hoisted high, packsacks strapped on shoulders and another link traversed along the terrain to unfettered freedom amidst the solitude of nature. By the new lakeshore, camp is made again and as the fire flickers in the evening shadows the wild, ever-lonely-sounding call of the loon echoes back from the rock escarpments, audibly painting a compelling picture of the surrounding darkened scene. With time to spare, the race of modern life suspended and guided only by the geographical pattern of the watershed, the canoeist becomes a part of his unspoilt environment, concerned primarily only with the basic elements once more. His passing leaves little mark upon the land. The waters, untainted by the stroke of wooden paddles, close immediately behind his gentle craft, his softclad footfalls upon the spongy moss soon disappear and even the small holes scooped in sandy stream beds during an amateur search for gold are soon filled in by the lapping, running waters. Next year, when canoeists come that way again, the Canadian wilderness of lake and forest will be as always - a place of boundless beauty for man's serious enjoyment.