paddling, Nimrod got out his sketch 

 book to perpetuate for future refer- 

 ence, a gorgeous yellow mushroom, 

 probably poisonous, and I employed 

 the time with a fishing-rod securing 

 four wall-eyed pike for the camp 

 table. One of them was spawned 

 and grew and grew to a goodly three 

 pounds to become part of history, 

 for it furnished a note in Nimrod's 

 journal that it weighed three pounds 

 and its ''stomach was full of craw- 

 fish." 



The following lake was rather rough 

 under a rising wind. We paddled 

 fast across it, too fast for fishing. It 

 was evident that Clifford was anxious 

 to reach Loon Lake when the wind 

 increased. But we had not half 

 crossed the long portage when dark 

 clouds began to gather, the day 

 had grown rough and masculine, full 

 of energy and menace and when we 

 came finally to Loon Lake the waves, 

 gathering force from a three-mile 

 sweep of open water, were rolling in- 

 shore, vigorously. We had difficulty in 

 getting launched, a fierce gust of 

 wind threw us back on shore, and 

 Clifford had to spring into the shallow 



