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Updated: May 4, 2025
Why, look, that great space that seems to open out in the half-dark of the falling evening, why, surely yes, Lake Ossawippi, the big lake, as they used to call it, from which the river runs down to the smaller lake, Lake Wissanotti, where the town of Mariposa has lain waiting for you there for thirty years. This is Lake Ossawippi surely enough.
But most of them wouldn't listen to reason at all. I think, perhaps, that some of them were frightened. You see the last time but one that the steamer had sunk, there had been a man drowned and it made them nervous. What? Hadn't I explained about the depth of Lake Wissanotti?
THREE. The Marine Excursions of the Knights of Pythias Half-past six on a July morning! The Mariposa Belle is at the wharf, decked in flags, with steam up ready to start. Excursion day! Half past six on a July morning, and Lake Wissanotti lying in the sun as calm as glass. The opal colours of the morning light are shot from the surface of the water.
After all, the bravery of the lifeboat man is the true bravery, expended to save life, not to destroy it. Certainly they told for months after of how the rescue boat came out to the Mariposa Belle. I suppose that when they put her in the water the lifeboat touched it for the first time since the old Macdonald Government placed her on Lake Wissanotti. Anyway, the water poured in at every seam.
So the news went all round the boat and everywhere the people gathered in groups and talked about it in the angry and excited way that people have when a steamer is sinking on one of the lakes like Lake Wissanotti. Dean Drone, of course, and some others were quieter about it, and said that one must make allowances and that naturally there were two sides to everything.
And it was arranged that there would be a big lunch every day, to be held in Smith's caff, round the corner of Smith's Northern Health Resort and Home of the Wissanotti Angler, you know the place. The lunch was divided up into tables, with a captain for each table to see about things to drink, and of course all the tables were in competition with one another.
Had the fire gained but a hundred feet, or less, it could have reached from the driving shed behind the church to the backs of the wooden shops of the Main Street, and once there not all the waters of Lake Wissanotti could stay the course of its destruction. It was for that hundred feet that they fought, the men of Mariposa, from the midnight call of the bell till the slow coming of the day.
Safe yourself, if you like; as for me, let me once get back into Mariposa again, under the night shadow of the maple trees, and this shall be the last, last time I'll go on Lake Wissanotti. Safe! Oh yes! Isn't it strange how safe other people's adventures seem after they happen?
It stood so high that from the open steeple of it, where the bells were, you could see all the town lying at its feet, and the farmsteads to the south of it, and the railway like a double pencil line, and Lake Wissanotti spread out like a map.
In point of geography the lake is called Lake Wissanotti and the river running out of it the Ossawippi, just as the main street of Mariposa is called Missinaba Street and the county Missinaba County. But these names do not really matter. Nobody uses them.
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