INLAND TROUT FISHING. 659 



After a rather fatiguing walk of two hours, much of it uphill work, we 

 arrived at Rich's Camp, alias "The Angler's Retreat," quite in time 

 for the afternoon's fishing. 



The Camp consists of two primitive-looking, squatty log-cabins, one of 

 which is used as a culinary department, the other, somewhat larger, is 

 divided off into four sleeping-rooms and a salle d, manger, or general 

 reception-room or hall. In one corner of this apartment there are three 

 dirty, gloomy, badly-ventilated bunks, intended for the accommodation of 

 the guests or the guides, as the case might be. There is another cabin in 

 course of construction, immediately contiguous to the larger one, which is 

 a little more pretentious than those already erected, and will afford much 

 additional room next season, and at the same time insure some little privacy 

 and comfort to the visitors. 



The grounds around the camp are rough and unsightly, and rendered 

 positively filthy by the accumulated droppings of the cow, the numerous 

 slaughtered sheep, and the mass of fish garbage which is continuously 

 thrown from the kitchen by the dirtiest and worst-mannered galley scul- 

 lion whom one may ever wish to encounter. 



Rich's Camp or " The Angler's Retreat" is situated at Middle Dam, 

 or rather on a slight elevation of ground at the foot of Lake Mollychunke- 

 munk. At this point the lake empties itself through a narrow gut or channel 

 into Rapid River. This channel is not over fifty feet wide and a couple 

 of hundred feet long — the current is swift and strong. This is the spot 

 par excellence to kill the gamy Trout. 



The view across and up the Lake from the Retreat, which is built on a 

 clearing at the very edge of the forest, is very attractive. When the wea- 

 ther is favorable, the tourist as well as the sportsman could no doubt derive 

 much enjoyment from boating and sailing on the Lake. 



Soon after our arrival we were informed that the Camp was poorly sup- 

 plied with food — nothing to be had in the way of edibles save slices of 

 strong-tasted fat pork fried, with tough bread. I must confess that I 

 was quite startled at this announcement, in consideration of the beautiful 

 visions of wild-game, corn-cakes, hot buckwheats, ham and eggs, and other 

 like delicacies which Mr. Rich's flaming circular had conjured up in my 

 mind's eye. 



Not wishing to go to bed supperless, to say nothing of the natural 

 impulse, we soon put our rods together, and sallied down to the Narrows, 

 the favored haunt of the speckled beauties. The afternoon was cool and a 

 little humid, but the air felt fresh and bracing as it swept gently over the 



