220 FOREST LIFE IN ACADIE. 



5 „„1J.„ 1 r,n 



soon comes on a sparkling forest brook overhung by 



waving fern fronds, and little pools with a bottom of 



golden gravel. The trout is sure to be here, and on 



I your approach darts under the shelter of the projecting 



I roots of the mossy bank. A litth^ further, and a winding 



; lane of still water skirted by graceful maples and birches, 



> leads to the open expanses of the lake, where the gloom 



'. of the heavy woods is exchanged for the clear daylight. 



' This is the "run in," in local phraseology, and here the 



lake trout resort as a favourite station at all times of the 



year. A basket of two or three dozen of these speckled 



beauties is your re\vcird for having found your way to 



these wild but enchanting spots. 



Though, as has been observed, the trout of America is 

 more a lake than a river fish, yet the gently running water 

 at the foot of a lake just before the toss and tumble of a 

 rapid is reached is a favourite station for trout. Such 

 spots are excellent for fly-fishing ; I have frequently taken 

 five dozen fine fish in an hour, in the Liverpool, Tangier, 

 and other noble rivers in Nova Scotia, from rapid water, 

 weighing from one to three pounds. 



Towards midsummer the fish begin to refuse fly or 



bait, retiring to deep pools under the shade of high rocks, 



sickened apparently by the warmth of the lake water. 



. . As, however, the woods, especially in the neighbourhood 



''-*'; of water, are at this season infested with mosquitoes 



and black flies, a day's " outing " by the lake or river 



side becomes anything but recreative, if not unbearable. 



The twinge of the almost invisible sand-fly adds, too, 



to our torments. In Nova Scotia the savage black- 



Sh^^ fly (Simulium molcstum) disappears at the end of June, 



though in New Brunswick the piscator will find these 





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