Susanna Moodie,
Roughing it in the Bush — Chapter XVIII: A Trip to Stony Lake
“ The very spirit of peace seemed to brood over the waters, which were broken into a thousand ripples of light by every breeze that stirred the rice blossoms, or whispered through the shivering aspen-trees. The far-off roar of the rapids, softened by distance, and the long, mournful cry of the night-owl, alone broke the silence of the night. Amid these lonely wilds the soul draws nearer to God, and is filled to overflowing by the overwhelming sense of His presence.It was two o'clock in the morning when we fastened the canoe to the landing, and Moodie carried up the children to the house. ”
