On the lake I slugged cheap B.C. wine from the bottle, Henrik pounded the Bud and Kent did his best to empty a bottle of Southern Comfort. After a while we argued about who was going to drive. Luckily, it was not my turn to lose the argument. It was a big bottle of wine.
As we took turns catching fish bald eagles, ospreys and herons flew. An eagle and an osprey fought over control of a favoured tree top. The osprey did not keep up the squabble for long.
In the water two beavers patrolled above the rainbow and brook trout we were after.
At the side of the lake, perhaps fifty feet from our boat, a black bear cub crashed from the thick brush into the shallows. His big mother followed behind him but stayed in the brush eating the abundant ripe purple Saskatoons. We had eaten some of the juicy berries not long before when pulled off the lake to water our bursting horses.
Kent pointed and said, "I bet Mama Bear would like to get to the top of that tall bush to get all those berries." The bush was heavy with berries as Christmas trees often are with ornaments. Five seconds after Kent commented the biggest of the two bears climbed the tall Saskatoon, bending it over like a hungry Silverback gorilla.
We watched in awe as the bear fattened herself for winter.
Canada is not a bad place to get drunk in.