388 Sporting Sketches 



weak spot in the ice. One such experience will illus- 

 trate the possibilities. Half a dozen of us formed a 

 fishing party and skated down the Thames River to 

 Lake St. Clair, intent upon trying the tip-ups. 



It was a long skate, but a stiff breeze was at our 

 backs and we spun along famously. In due time we 

 reached the lake and found that a floe of shore-ice 

 extended outward for perhaps something over a mile. 

 Beyond its further limit gleamed an expanse of 

 heaving, ice-cold billows. In brief time we had 

 knocked the snow off a goodly supply of driftwood 

 and built a roaring bonfire. Then we skated some 

 distance out upon the ice over a well-known shallow 

 and rigged the tip-ups. Fish were not in good biting 

 humor, and victims were caught but slowly. After 

 an hour or so of rather tame sport we got careless 

 and skated hither and thither, frequently visiting the 

 fire and occasionally dashing for the tip-ups at rac- 

 ing speed when a strike was indicated. It was fun 

 of its kind, and we fooled away time, hoping the 

 wind, which was against our homeward trip, would 

 either moderate or change. At last, for some un- 

 known reason, one of the crowd skated far out 

 toward open water, and after yelling in vain for him 

 to return, we all straggled along after him, letting 

 the wind blow us as it pleased. 



We had got within about fifty yards of him, when 

 he suddenly swerved in his course and faced about, 

 made a few hasty strokes, and halted. We guessed 

 that he had reached dangerous ice ; so we scattered 

 to spread our weight over a broader surface and 

 leisurely slowed up. 



Suddenly he pointed for the shore, and with a 



