’ 
SPORT IN QUEBEC 
We had just landed on a picturesque little island 
in Lake Edward for lunch, and the guide had lit 
the fire and put on the frying pan. I was sitting 
on a log near by trying to remember what the 
French for frying pan was, as I wanted to ask 
him what he was going to put into it. I had toiled 
all morning trying to catch one of the beautiful 
char for which this lake is justly famous, but with- 
out success. Every sort of fly and lure at my com- 
mand had been used, but there had been neither 
rise nor nibble. Of course I knew that at this 
season—J une—they would not rise, but are gener- 
ally taken with the troll. Their food being sup- 
plied by springs at the bottom, they are only at- 
tracted by a well sunk lure, but as we had trolled 
for miles and miles without result, I thought I 
would try the fly for an hour before lunch. Find- 
ing my knowledge of French unsuitable for pres- 
ent wants, I watched the man. He took from his 
pocket a piece of stick and from this he unwound 
some line, at the end of which was a coarse hook. 
On this he put a piece of bacon, and fastening his 
line to a willow, he cast. Instantly he hooked a 
trout, nearly a pound in weight, which was trans- 
ferred to the pan after being suitably prepared. 
My guide was a morose and uncivil man. I had 
19 
