24 



THE OOLOGIST 



up the merry whorl of the dance until 

 we would turn off the switch, cut 

 loose the weeds and begin anew. This 

 was always disastrous to actual time 

 spent on the journey up stream, for 

 there is a current in the main channel 

 which would at such times take us 

 back several rods. The bottom of the 

 main channel is firm and sandy. As 

 we neared the lake the channel be- 

 came more narrow, the reed banks 

 more defined and the water more 

 swift. We were finally so hemmed 

 in by the tall reeds that we could not 

 see "over the top" even by standing 

 up on the deck of our boat. Of a sud- 

 den we rounded one of the many sharp 

 bends and came into full view of the 

 magnificent sheet of water stretching 

 as far as the eye could reach to meet 

 the sky. To one who has never be- 

 held a sheet of water that he can 

 not see across the earth's curvature 

 is very marked and the water seems 

 to rise in a hill before his gaze. The 

 view to us was very inspiring. We 

 ran our boat out into the lake at six 

 thirty p. m., Monday evening, having 

 left Thief River Falls the Saturday 

 before at six p. m. We had traveled 

 an approximate distance of one hun- 

 dred miles in twenty continuous hours 

 of travel, our rate up stream averag- 

 ing five miles per hour. 



Immediately in front of the outlet 

 and out in the lake about three or 

 four hundred yards rest two steamers, 

 grounded end to end, beat upon by 

 the waves, scarred and bruised by the 

 spring ice jambs, weather wrecked, 

 memorials of bygone days, days when 

 frontiersmen depended upon the rivers 

 and- lakes as highways of trade before 

 the advent of railroads to transport 

 the necessary freight. These two 

 boats used to ply between Thief River 

 Falls and various lake points, Wash- 

 kish, Shotly, Ponema, Redby, and Red 



Lake better known as the Agency. 

 They were built for passenger as well 

 as freight traffic. The larger of the 

 two, the McMehan, was a side wheeler 

 and in a fair state of repairs. The 

 engines were still good, the windows 

 most all whole and the cabin still con- 

 tained the springs of the beds. The 

 main deck was just out of reach of 

 the waves. It might be interesting to 

 state here that Red Lake is a very 

 shallow lake for its size, the deepest 

 place known not being over thirty 

 feet deep. The South Lake is deeper 

 than the North Lake. The shores of 

 both run out into the water very grad- 

 ually so that a half mile and in some 

 instances a mile out we could take 

 our boat pole and touch bottom. For 

 that reason a wind will soon kick up 

 the waters and the waves run high. 

 We had been warned to keep well to 

 the shore line and not attempt to cross 

 the lake. We found fishing off the 

 McMahon good so we put up for the 

 night and partook of the hospitality 

 of the bed springs in the pilots cabin 

 on the upper deck. During the night 

 the wind arose coming across the 

 lake and although we tied our boat 

 securely the wind had broken the 

 moorings. It was one of those cases 

 when one suddenly becomes aware 

 that something is wrong, a premonition 

 that he must awake. I found myself 

 suddenly standing in the middle of 

 the cabin floor, the wind howling 

 through the broken window pane. I 

 hurried without knowing why down- 

 stairs bare-footed, my night-gown 

 switched about my chilled limbs, back 

 to the stern of the boat where our 

 little craft was all but hanging to its 

 last rope, its side worn nearly through 

 from chaffing the boat to the rear. I 

 called lustily to Bud and a half hours 

 work put our boat in the lea of the 

 balance of the night. We were lucky 

 to have a boat at all. Had she broken 



