A FISHERMAN'S PARADISE 19 



These upper lakes all drain into Sans Bout, long, 

 irregular and full of big fish, from which a river of 

 the same name, a great and glorious stream carries 

 the combined waters to Sorcier, the biggest of our 

 lakes, whose outlet flows over the Chamberlain falls, 

 a cataract impassable for any fish. When the club was 

 first formed, some thirty years ago, it is said that none 

 of the lakes or streams above this fall contained trout, 

 and that their present profuse population is entirely 

 descended from some put in at that time. These 

 have increased, spread and assorted themselves ac- 

 cording to size, until they now throng the waters 

 with as great a multitude as they can support, on 

 which such fishing as is now done, almost always 

 sportsman-like and reasonable, can make no impres- 

 sion. The desire to make a record catch in number, 

 the willingness to kill what cannot be used, seem 

 to have about disappeared, and most or all of the club 

 fish humanely and moderately, put back unhurt what 

 they cannot use, and make a moderate and reasonable 

 catch on their last day to take out and distribute to 

 their friends; all of which is just as it should be. 



It is half past four of a day in June, the sky full 

 of big white and gray clouds, with patches of blue 

 here and there, and a gentle breeze out of the north- 

 west ripples the surface of Lake Vialon, which is 

 broken here and there by the rings of rising fish. One 

 has had a good cigar and a little nap, after his excel- 

 lent luncheon, while the bright hours passed, and 

 now it is time to try the rod again. A hail from the 



