LET US GO AFIELD 



of a little creek leading back into some inland lakes. 



We did not learn that the connies ever went into 

 the lakes, but here at the mouth of this little creek 

 they were schooling in thousands, and we were told 

 that this was always held to be a certain fishing 

 place by the natives who travel up and down that 

 river. The scene here was much like that of a sal- 

 mon run in the salt water a day or so before the 

 fish move up into some fresh-water stream. 



Here, however, there was no salt water, neither 

 did the fish jump free into the air; but they kept 

 the surface churned up in hundreds of waves where 

 only their backs and shoulders showed. They were 

 supposed to be feeding on minnows, but we could 

 not see any minnows, though the fish often broke 

 within a few feet of us, apparently feeding. 



When we made our encampment at this spot we 

 were hungry, as everyone in the North is all the 

 time; and when one is short of grub in the North 

 he goes after connies if possible. We had no net 

 with us and no fishing rods nor any bait. Fortu- 

 nately, under some sneaking sort of notion that we 

 might have trolling for lake trout, I had taken 

 along, against all counsel, a few assorted sizes of 

 trolling spoons. These we now put into commis- 

 sion, lacking anything better. 



One of the party tried to use a clumsy willow rod, 

 76 



