Nova Scotia Trout-Fishing 



As Walter never travelled without his fishing tackle, 

 all he had to do was pack his bag and go. I was ready 

 enough to go, but had no tackle. I was contemplating 

 borrowing some, when Walter told me to come into his 

 room and look over his. Perhaps he would have enough 

 for two. Upon an examination of his outfit I judged 

 he had enough for four. At any rate he had two 7i- 

 foot 3i-ounce rods, two 9-foot 5-ounce rods; two or three 

 kinds of folding combination dip-nets; two or three 

 boxes full of reels, leaders, lines, spoon-hooks, spinners, 

 bait-hooks, etc., and two books of flies, either of which 

 was as large as a family Bible. This matter settled, we 

 entrained the next day for Caledonia. 



Here we met Old Joe, the guide, who had already sent 

 his boat and gear in a truck-wagon out to Lowe's Land- 

 ing; this was twelve miles from Caledonia, and was to be 

 the point of embarkation. Next morning we drove to 

 the lake behind a fine spanking pair of bay mares owned 

 by the hotel proprietor. It was a beautiful day, warm 

 and calm, but snappy enough after a night's frost to be 

 exhilarating. 



We inspected the commissary department, and agreed 

 with Joe that we had supplies sufficient for a week. 

 Joe's " wangun," or grub-box, was as large as a carpenter's 

 old-fashioned tool-chest, and it was filled to the brim 

 with home-made bread, bacon, canned beans, tongue, 

 beef, milk, fruit, etc. Besides these, he had a peck of 

 fine Gravenstein apples and a peck of potatoes. He 

 evidently was fathering the wish that we would change 

 our plans and stay three weeks instead of one. 



Joe's boat was a sixteen-foot lapstreak row-boat with 

 plenty of beam and lots of sheer, and could carry its 

 load of three men and supplies quite safely. After 

 slipping the craft into the water, Walter hinted that he 

 was hungry, so Joe bustled around and built a fire, and, 



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