Nova Scotia Trout-Fishing 



us down to the Hopper, some five or six miles from the 

 Screecher. The Hopper is in reality the mouth of the 

 Third Lake on Lake Rossignol proper. As its name 

 implies, the outlet is shaped like a long narrow hopper 

 or funnel, through which all the waters of the great 

 Mersey watershed have to pour on their way to the sea. 

 A tiny island divides the Hopper, making two swift 

 streams, where we found excellent fishing. We camped 

 upon the southern side, our tent being pitched within 

 fifteen feet of the water. 



The first morning after our arrival at this picturesque 

 spot Walter told us a story about a famous fisherman 

 playing and landing an expert swimmer with his trout 

 rod. I laughed at the idea. Walter challenged me to 

 take the part of the fish while he plied the rod. The 

 water was quite warm and beautifully clear, so I stripped 

 off. Tying a handkerchief around my neck, I was ready. 

 Walter selected a heavy fly, reel, and line I had not 

 before noticed, and one of his nine-foot tournament rods. 

 The fly was hooked in the handkerchief around my neck. 

 I agreed not to touch the line with my hands. When all 

 was ready, much to Joe's amusement, I waded out to the 

 edge of the Hopper pond in still water, and then leisurely 

 swam straight out until the line broke. Walter wasn't 

 satisfied, so I tried it again with the same result. 



" If I had my salmon gear here you couldn't do that," 

 quoth Walter. Nor could L 



It took the rest of the trip for Walter to explain why 

 he couldn't put strain enough on his line to tire me 

 before I reached the end and broke it. 



The second night at the Hopper an old Micmac Indian 

 paddled up in a bark canoe. He and Old Joe were 

 friends, so he accepted our hospitality. This Indian 

 told us wonderful stories of his ability in moose-hunting, 

 fishing, and guiding. The next morning after he left 



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