IN THE NORTH WOODS 61 



had been " blazed," then to another in the distance. 

 He was not guessing or travelling by compass, but 

 following a " blazed trail." 



The first sight of the stream was disappointing 

 not to say disheartening. Here was no dashing 

 brook dancing its way along, but seemingly dead 

 water in a great stretch of marsh land. The guide 

 called it a " beaver-meadow," although we saw no 

 signs of the animal or of its architectural activities. 

 But there were trout, as we soon proved. Pushing 

 along through the marsh grass, frequent catches of 

 good-sized fish were made, until at last the 

 Preacher had a notable experience, not only for 

 that day, but for any he ever spent in fishing. The 

 Doctor was fishing ahead, and as he vacated a dry 

 hummock, having taken two trout from that point 

 of vantage, his friend stepped into the same spot. 

 The first cast brought a trout, as did the second and 

 the third and so on until he had taken sixty fine fish 

 without stirring from his tracks. And they all came 

 from the same point in the stream. The lure fell 

 in vain three feet away from this particular spot. 

 They were not fingerlings, but ten-inch and twelve- 

 inch fellows. The Preacher's creel and his pockets 

 were full when the guide and the Doctor, returning 

 along the creek, came upon him. The guide's ex- 

 planation was that the fortunate Preacher hap- 

 pened in his first cast to strike a " pot-hole," a de- 

 pression in the bed of the creek, where the water 

 was cool and in which the trout gathered in great 



