our sacrifice some hours later by having delicious brook 

 trout for breakfast, the first we had ever seen, let alone 

 taste, and surely no epicure could ask for a more tempt- 

 ing morsel. 



But if we failed in our ambition to lure the gamy 

 little trout to our lines, we were recompensed on the 

 whole by taking part in repeated trips after the big 

 ones, crappies, pike and the other finny beauties in 

 which the lakes abound. One Sunday in particular 

 comes to mind. We had dinner at Douglas Lodge, and 

 devoted the remainder of the afternoon to strolling 

 about, kodaking, and admiring the many beautiful 

 views as seen from rustic bridge and deep, cool glen. 

 Here, perhaps above all other points in the park, one 

 is most deeply impressed with the magnificent speci- 

 mens of virgin white and Norway pine. 



Time stole a march on us and the shadows had be- 

 gun to lengthen when our launch made the home port. 

 The ever-absorbing question, "What shall we eat?" 

 conjured a vision of golden-brown fried crappies, and 

 we were soon putting "fishermen's luck" to the test. 

 Apparently it was against us in the first try-out, for a 

 few desultory nibbles were the net result. Finally one 

 of our crew of six were inspired to think of the raft 

 about a quarter of a mile from shore, which was used 

 by the forest school students as a vantage point from 

 which to display diving prowess. Then our luck cer- 

 tainly did take a turn for the better. In fact, the fish 

 seemed to be just waiting eagerly for a chance to snap 

 at the hook as it was lowered in the cool shade of the 

 logs. In the exhilaration of the moment I even sur- 

 mised that, in their impatience to be pulled in, they 



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