As Chicoutimi is gradually neared, the water of Ha-Ha Bay opens up on the south. It received its odd name from the peals of laughter indulged in by the early French explorers who took it for the main channel of the river, and who found their mistake when they reached the end of the cul-de-sac.
In and about Chicoutimi and the neighboring villages are numerous places of great interest; and doubtless many who visit this district will wish to go part or all the way to Lake St. John for the pleasure of returning by canoe, and of enjoying the lively sport of shooting the rapids in care of two skilful Indian guides. At Portage de l’Enfant an Indian child managed to perform a feat that few could be likely to imitate successfully: that of going over the 50-foot fall in a canoe, and escaping uninjured. For lovers of the curious, the church at Chicoutimi contains an ancient bell with an inscription on it that no one has been able to decipher.
If so minded, the traveller who finds himself in this delightful district may go by rail from Chicoutimi to Roberval at the south-western end of Lake St. John. Here, in more open country, another series of excursions may be had, and, not forgetting the pleasure of a stay at Roberval as a centre, those who are fond of steamboat trips, driving, walking, boating and canoeing may go in many directions.
The steamboat trip from Roberval to the Grand Discharge and ‘Thousand Isles of the Saguenay’ is a favorite one. There is nothing similar to it elsewhere. The drives to Ouiatchouan Falls, picturesque and nearly 300 feet high, and the Montagnais village of Pointe Bleue are full of interest and novelty. Many other trips are possible.
Much of the country to the north of the lake is unexplored. The same remark applies to the rivers of the northern district, or rather to their upper waters. Across Lake St. John, therefore, is ground where the experienced huntsman or nature-lover may find ample occupation in new fields.
The happy sojourner in these regions will soon become accustomed to the Indian names, and, if the use of ‘fire-water’ is eschewed, words like Chamouchouan and Ashuapmouchouan will roll trippingly from the tongue.
And now for an Indian legend. Tonadalwa was an Indian maid beautiful to look upon, and desired by every young brave of her tribe. Her eyes were dark and lustrous, her form was lithe, supple and beautifully moulded, words from her lips were sweeter than honey, and her song was like unto that of the bird that soars joyously in the sky at the first flush of the rosy dawn.