172 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



world, and nowhere more beautiful than on the 

 shores of the Kootenay. 



What about the fishing? In view of the dictum 

 recently rendered by certain inordinately good 

 people and recorded in one of our great religious 

 weeklies, that question is clearly out of order. It 

 has been decided by those who have no question as 

 to their infallibility that it is wicked to catch fish. 

 (Poor Peter! How thoroughly ashamed of him- 

 self he would be were he living in this day of 

 ethical enlightenment.) Let it be understood 

 before proceeding further, that our action has 

 historic precedent in the well-known case of the 

 boy and the woodchuck. We had to fish. We 

 were forty miles from the base of supplies. The 

 Doctor and the Junior and the girls and the head 

 of the house and the Chinaman and the Preacher 

 must eat or perish. As each and all manifested a 

 strong prejudice against perishing, some one must 

 fish. The Preacher offers himself as a hesitating 

 violator of that high-toned, transcendental morality 

 which places fishing among the mortal sins, and 

 the Doctor aids and abets him. 



Just here listen to a word of advice : If you will 

 fish, provide yourself with a friend so unselfish that 

 he will joyously perjure himself by declaring that 

 he does not care anything about the sport and pre- 

 fers to row the boat. It is important to have good 

 tackle, carefully selected flies, a rod that will stand 

 strain and a line that runs freely; but the sine 



