Nepigon River Fishing 



bowlders, whirling the canoe smoothly a 

 mile or more on level keel. 



The note of the Nepigon is speed and 

 might and brightness. It is the young St. 

 Lawrence rehearsing its majestic flow, and 

 supreme Niagara. Here "Arethusa arose 

 from her couch of snows," preparing to 

 meet, hundreds of leagues away, as she 

 nears the sea, dark "Alpheus bold, from 

 his glacier cold," rushing to her embrace 

 through the chasm of grim Saguenay. 



To these tempting waters, anglers of 

 every grade and from all regions throng. 

 At the Mission, nestled in a nook of green, 

 carved out among the rocks on the lower 

 edge of Lake Helen, parties of Indians, 

 catching a wind right aft, pile squaws, 

 pappooses, and numberless dogs into rick- 

 ety birches, to skim along under a dirty 

 blanket sail, pursuing for food the snaky 

 pickerel and coarse Mackinaw trout of the 

 lake. The young novice, too eager to de- 

 lay, drops his first fly and lifts his first two- 

 pound fish even under the shadow of the 

 railway bridge. The expert, trained for 

 many years in many waters, and epicure 

 of the best, his canoe trimly packed with 

 a month's supplies in rubber bags and light 

 boxes, manned by a steersman and a sturdy 

 oarsman, presses steadily on his three days' 

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