GLIMPSES OF CANADA, ETC. 235 



My angling friends in the club at Toronto could lay 

 before me a bewildering choice of places where I should 

 have a fair chance of that one 'lunge and one bass with 

 which I professed I would be content. But to do 

 them justice it would require a week of time, and much 

 travel by night and day. After contriving and schem- 

 ing I discovered that three days would be the utmost 

 I could spare for fishing, and on the advice of friends, 

 Lake Scugog, at Port Perry, was decided upon as a 

 tolerable ground, not more than forty miles from the 

 city. We were set down on the permanent way of the 

 Grand Trunk line about nine o'clock, and were met by 

 a couple of local gentlemen, anglers good and true, 

 who had been advised of our approach, who had kindly 

 come down to guide our footsteps aright, and who wel- 

 comed us in the true spirit of sportsmen. First came 

 breakfast in the hotel opposite, or to be exact, first 

 came inquiries of the boatman and all and sundry as to 

 possibilities of sport. The lake was most fair to look 

 upon from the veranda, the water curled by a nice 

 breeze, the sun shining over it, and the abundant woods 

 of an island about two miles from our landing-place. 



But the fish had not been biting well for a week. It 

 was incomprehensible, but true, that the boats had 

 never returned so empty of fish as latterly. One 

 shrewd boatman, who fell to our lot for the day, said 

 that the Indians, of whom the small remnant of a 

 tame tribe lived as agriculturists on the island, had a 

 tradition that in August and part of September the 

 'lunge shed their teeth, and that during this period 

 they never take the bait, or feed in any shape or form. 

 What fish did Scugog contain ? Well, there were 



shiners, suckers, eels Oh ! sporting fish ! Ah, 



well, there were no trout, but there were 'lunge, perch, 

 and any number of green, or large-mouthed, bass. This 



