374 Trout-Fishing in the Rangeley Lakes. 



Stream. The "Spirit of Mooselucmaguntic" (an effigy which the 

 ingenuity of some of the campers had constructed from the gnarled 

 roots which the waves had cast up on the beach and worn into 

 incredibly fantastic shapes) looked upon the scene with a grin which 

 foreboded some dire disaster. My guide, in despair at the determi- 

 nation which persisted in casting a fly in such a gale, was fishing 

 from the bow of the boat with a drop line. A sudden exclamation 

 from him, a start and a sharp twitch, indicated that he had hooked a 

 large fish. I turned to see him pull a beautiful three-pounder over 

 the thwart, which he had depressed to the level of the water to save 

 the trouble of using the landing-net. But our triumph was of short 

 duration. No sooner had the victim been deposited in the boat than 

 we both, in an instant, found ourselves pitched out of it and strug- 

 gling in the water of the lake. Unnoticed by either of us in the 

 excitement of the moment, our boat had swung around into the 

 trough of the sea, and a huge wave had dashed in, completely filling 

 it, and tipping it so nearly over that as the water came in we went 

 out. Confident in my own swimming powers, I called to my guide, 

 as soon as I came to the surface and grasped hold of the boat, that 

 I could take care of myself, and not to be alarmed on my account. 

 But a desperate series of flounderings on his part indicated to me 

 what I had never before suspected, that, notwithstanding the fact 

 that he had been a guide upon these waters for thirty years, he 

 could not swim a stroke. His frantic efforts to insure his own safety 

 quickly tipped the boat bottom-side up, and again sent us both 

 under. When I came to the surface, he was seated astride of the 

 bow in comparative safety, while the second submersion had so 

 water-logged my heavy winter clothing that I found it impossible to 

 do more than hang on to whatever part of the slippery bottom of 

 the boat I could best clutch. Then it began to look as if our 

 strait was desperate. The anchor-rope held our boat with the same 

 firmness upon which we had before congratulated ourselves, and I 

 fear that it would never have occurred to either of us to cut it and 

 let the boat drift ashore. Fortunately, however, another boat hap- 

 pened just at this crisis to be starting out upon the lake. By his 

 vigorous yells, my guide attracted the attention of those in the other 

 boat, and in a few moments it was alongside. My guide easily 

 stepped from his place of refuge into the rescuing boat, nearly upset- 



