56 



THE OOLOGIST 



Around Red Lake In a Launch 



By L. E. Healey 

 Part III 

 Until two o'clok that afternoon our 

 little engine kept up its steady "puck- 

 puck" in the perfectly calm waters of 

 the North shore. The sound became 

 monotonous; the sun shone hot; we 

 grew drowsy in the sunshine and took 

 turns at the rudder while the other 

 slept. This shore was fringed with 

 bull rushes the entire length of thirty 

 miles. The banks were low covered 

 with a heavy growth of mixed timber 

 both deciduous and coniferous. Here 

 and there was an abandoned Indian 

 teepee and camp, used no doubt the 

 fall previous during the deer hunting 

 season; and now and then a winter 

 home built of logs and white-washed. 

 Invariably at these Indian houses was 

 to be seen the flag pole at the shore 

 and the bird house on a pole back 

 near the house. It was the case every 

 where coming up the river or along 

 the lake. Wherever there was a per- 

 manent abode there was the inevitable 

 bird house on a pole. We passed the 

 mouths of seven ditches leading in 

 from the North striking the shore 

 line almost at right angles, one every 

 two miles, part of the great state 

 drainage system for the mammoth 

 swamps north of the lake. These 

 ditches appeared as great water 

 avenues leading out to some promised 

 land, for the water stood in them al- 

 most on a level with the surface of 

 the lake. We could get a glimpse as 

 we passed of the great area beyond 

 We were looking for Anderson post 

 office toward the northeast corner of 

 the lake but we never saw it and we 

 were told afterwards that the store 

 stood out facing the lake where the 

 land was high. The writer was hav- 

 ing his turn at a snooze. He still be- 

 lieves that Bud was sleeping too, and 



that is how we missed Anderson post 

 office. 



I was awakened suddenly by a rush 

 of breakers and a bump on the boat. 

 I jumped up and tried hastily to col- 

 lect my wits for I had been just hav- 

 ing the lovliest time eating ice cream 

 and cake and pie and strawberry 

 shortcake, and to be thus suddenly 

 aroused. I found it hard to adjust 

 myself to the situation. "We're strik- 

 ing bottom." "Yes, so I perceive," 

 was my reply as the stern hit again 

 and a great breaker came in at the 

 rear. "Where are we? What place 

 is that?" "It must be Anderson 

 Post Office." "But there's a river 

 that must be Washkisk." And the 

 force of the wind would indicate 

 that we were now going down the 

 east end of the lake having rounded 

 the curve on the northeast corner. We 

 were now going with the wind which 

 that forenoon we had been battling 

 against. "Let's find the channel of 

 the river and get deeper water." 

 Faster than one can tell it we were 

 going with the wind and the breakers 

 were getting larger and in the trough 

 of each large wave we were striking 

 bottom though we were full three 

 quarters of a mile from the shore. "Oh 

 wow, look out." 



We had hit hard and the breaker 

 came in in buckets full. "Jump, 

 quick." Another followed and this 

 time filled the boat so the fly wheel 

 was giving us a perfect shower bath, 

 and the batteries and coil, too. Then 

 the engine died but we were holding 

 the nose up into the wind in water 

 scarcely knee deep. "Gee, what a 

 picture." I reached for the kodak and 

 backed off but the shutters were full 

 of sand. So the picture of our predica- 

 ment remains only in memory. We 

 headed for the mouth of the river 

 toward the last of a line of piles that 

 had been driven away out into the 



