Jm/r 7,1881,] 



FOEEST AND STREAM. 



451 



toad. One of ihem, living about three miles back fiorn the 

 swamps, came paddling over in an old boat from the mum 

 land one clay with a peck of new potatoes, which he wanted 

 to "swop fur a mess 1 fish." He said he would have trrOHght 

 a half-bushel, "only it was so hot, and it was too fur to tote 

 'em." New potatoes were just what we were longing for, 

 and he was made happy with a load of fish much heavier to 

 "tote" than his potatoes. 



A pairof bald eagles, which were bringing up ayouugfamily 

 over in the swamp, would, contrary to our precouccived 

 notions of the high toned independence of the bird, fre- 

 quently swoop down and carry off to the nest a dead 

 "floater" that the wind had blown away from the island; so 

 very few of our fish went to actual waste. And then we ate 

 fish— boiled, broiled, baked, iried and roasted— until we felt 

 scaly ; and toward the last Jim's face not so long We dunned 

 him " Old Pickerel." 



That night it cleared up, and we had fine weather the rest 

 of our stay, with the exception of a foggy morning or two 

 and an occasional puff of wind that made the lake' a little 

 rough for comfortable fishing. 



We had agreed to devote at least one day to a trip to 

 Central Lake, a village at the bea l of Intermediate, distant 

 about seven miles from camp. As the next morning was 

 bright and pleasant, we took the largest boat, a minnow 

 bucket, half a dozen dilferont patterns of spoons and trollers, a 

 single-piece Japanese cane rod each, and started, leaving John- 

 ny to look after camp and add to our stock of frogs and tire- 

 wood. The fishing part of the trip going up was a failure, 

 as we trolled nearly the whole way with two or three spin- 

 nets out without getting a strike ; but the lovely day and the 

 scenery of the upper lake more than compensated for the 

 poor fishing. 



Above Long Point the lake widens out to perhaps a mile 

 and three-fourths to two miles, and the shores present a 

 bolder and more rugged appearance, having a background of 

 quite pretentious and thickly wooded hills. Along the east 

 shore three or four clearings notched into the woods mar the 

 landscape, and on the west a nursery and another clearing 

 break the charm of utter wildness" that would greet the 

 eye of the lover of primitive nature. 



We missed the swamp belt as we proceeded, but the 

 change was a pleasing one, and we neglected our trolling to 

 admire something new and beautiful as each bay and head- 

 land came into view. 



A turn around a point brought us in sight of Central Lake, 

 much to Jim's ]"oy, as it was his turn at the oars. The heat, 

 of the day and the hard work he made for himself al the 

 oars on account of his lack of skill in handling a boat caused 

 sundry rivulets of perspiration to trickle down his beaming 

 countenance ; and when the Scribe proposed that the writer 

 take the oars and that "we go into port with some style about 

 us," the smile that reached clear back to Jim's ears indorsed 

 the proposition plainer than speech. As we changed places 

 he offered to wager that in the last straightaway mile he 

 had rowed over more water than both of us had since leav- 

 ing camp, in order, as he claimed, to give as a near view 

 of both shores of the lake. "A broad view of a short dis- 

 tance," muttered tho Scribe, as we gathered headway. 



Pulling around to the landing, we stepped ashore and 

 were right in the town. The village numbers ten or twelve 

 wooden houses, and is pleasantly located right at the head 

 of Intermediate Lake. It boasts of a general store, at 

 which you may obtain almost anything in the way of dry 

 goods, boots and shoes, groceries, drugs, or a stick of striped 

 candy. You can be supplied with a chunk of salt pork, a 

 can of Boston baked beans, or a troller for bass or niascal- 

 longe ; a yard of calico, a cane fish pole, or a dose of physic. 

 In the store is also the post office. The place flourishes a 

 small hotel, capable of accommodating twelve or fifteen 

 guests, presided over by mine host, W. W. Smith, who 

 sets a fair table at reasonable rates, catches bait for his 

 guests, who may wish to wet a line, keeps a dozen or moie 

 boats for hire to anglers and tourists at prices that will not 

 cause the hair to turn prematurely gray, and knows where 

 and how to fish. 1 1 may be said of him " he is a landlord of 

 many parts " The store is kept by Messrs. Wadsworth and 

 Thu'rs'on. We found Mr. Thurston to be a clever, in- 

 telligent gentleman, well posted in regard to the country and 

 its resources, and keenly alive to eveiy move tending to its 

 development. While resting, we spent a very agreeable 

 hour listening to his description of the upper lakes and 

 streams, which created such a desire on our part to pay them 

 a visit that we have resolved to build our camp fire some- 

 where up there next year. Mr. Wadsworth is an old settler. 

 He has lived there for years ; has surveyed over a large por- 

 tion of that section of country, is said to be authority on dis- 

 tances and localities, and knows every bush and brake and. 

 stream and lake for miles and miles all over that part of 

 Michigan. He has hunted and fished its forests, streams and 

 lakes, and knows them like an open book. He loves his rod 

 and gun, and is, therefore, of course a gentleman. 



Intermediate is connected with Cedar Lake above, by a 

 narrow, shallow little river, quarter of a mile long, overhung 

 with trees and bushes, which in places reach out over the 

 water to the serious inconvenience of the oarsman, who has 

 neglected his early aquatic education. This was the cas<3 

 with our Editor, and it was not wiihout material aid rem 

 dei ed him by us, in the shape of yelling, ' ' Pull on your left ! 

 Pull on your right ! Ha-r-d oa your ri — pull— there he goes 

 into that tree-top," etc , that he was enabled to make head- 

 way against the current and rest on his oars in the quiet 

 water of Cedar Lake at the head of the river, whither we 

 were bound in quest of a bucket of minnows. Smith had 

 preceded us in his boat to show us where to fish and help 

 catch them, kindly furnishing minnow tackle and " wums" — 

 the latter a scarce commodity ia all that north country. 



Cedar Lake is a very small and beautiful little sheet of 

 water, affording, Smith said, fair bass and pickerel fishing, 

 which we did not stop to verify, but turned our attention to 

 the minnows. After fishing nearly an hour in all the good 

 places pointed out by him, we had only secured about two 

 dozen small shiners, the sunfish and barred perch being so 

 numerous andravenous that they "barred" the others out. 



Before starting, Smith said we could "ketch a hundred 

 around the head of the river in no time ;" but after yanking 

 out two or three dozen perch and sunfish, he "guessed the 

 minnies had gone some'ers else," and casting his eyes sky- 

 ward — the sky was cloudless — he added, with a weather- 

 wise shake of the head, "Guess it ain't a good day for min- 

 nies," ' r which the Scribe echoed back, " Good day for 

 minnjes : and we pulled back to the village to wait for din- 



n ' I! 



„ To while away the time Thurston advised a visit to Mound 

 cpring, and pointing across the river, said we would find it 

 ,vf,r (here in tho wnnd» efbout eighty rods, Crossing the 



stout wooden bridge spanning the mouth of the little river 

 near the store door, we took our way up a hot, sandy road 

 in search of the trail leading to it, and on asking at a house 

 by the roadside, a very small midge of a bov volunteered to 

 show us the way. The Scribe gave him a nickel, which the 

 very small M. of a B. immediately shoved far down into a 

 wonderful and apparently fathomless pocket, and started 

 ahead with a broad grin on his freckled, intelligent face that 

 convinced us that the Scribe had made another friend. Go- 

 ing through a small patch of sickly-looking corn and robust 

 thistles before reaching the woods* we frequently lost sight of 

 our i uide behind a com hill or thistle stalk, but by scatter- 

 ing out wc managed to catch a view of him at intervals till 

 he dodged into the "bresh" and disappeared from sight. 

 At tie point at which we lost sight of him we struck into a 

 dim path and were soon at ihe spring. 



We found the spring just where we did not expect lo find 

 it — on high, level ground, right in the thick woods, and per- 

 haps fifty feet or more above the level of the lake. The 

 Mound, from the apex of which the water boils and bubbl a 

 up, is eight or nine feet higher than the surrounding ground, 

 and evidently owes its formation to the action of the water, 

 the earth ami sandy marl thrown out by it settling and build- 

 ing up through countless years into this shape. The whole 

 structure is miry and shaky, but by the aid of a few "chunks" 

 and a strip of board thoughtfully placed by former visitors, 

 we climbed to the top and drank a tin cup of the clear, cold, 

 iron-flavored water bubbling up in the little basin in the 

 centre, and felt, amply paid for our eighty rods' tramp. The 

 water, forming a liny rivulet, flows away through the woods 

 and is lost in the river connecting the two lakes. 



Altogether it is a curious and continuous boil on the face 

 of nature, and is well worth the walk from the village to 

 see. Our little guide had vanished in the bush, but as we 

 p ssed the house' going back, we sa.w his bright face pepring 

 timidly around a corner at us, from under a well frayed straw 

 hat, and no doubt wond» ring how many sunfish hooks he 

 could buy with that nickel. 



Central Lake is a good base to reach out from cither up or 

 down the lakes for good sport. From the outlet of Inter- 

 mediate clear around to the head of St. Clair Lake is called 

 Litermediate Lake on the guide maps of that section, but 

 from the outlet mentioned to the mouth of the little stream 

 flowing into the head of the first small lake of the chain there 

 are eleven distinct lakes all connected by little narrow wind- 

 ing streams of from a few rods in length to four miles. Two 

 of these lakes, St. Clair and Six-Mile, are of goodly size, and 

 all of them will gladden the heart of any brother of the rod 

 who has a weakness for bass and pickerel fishiug. 



The general shape of this waterway from Long Point on 

 Intermediate to Six Mile Lake is that of a fis i hook, suggest- 

 ive at least of sport, the foot of Six-Mile representing the 

 point, and St. Clair Lake the bend of the bowl. 



A very pleasant trip may be made, by a party of two or 

 three by loading a boat on a wagou in the early morning at 

 Central, crossing the country eastwardly by a fair road to 

 Echo Lake, about Six miles, and from there coming back by 

 water through Scott, Six-Mile, St. Clair, Bowers', White's 

 Si-sons, Hanley's and Cedar lakes to Central, over 30 miles, 

 all in a long summer day, provided they do not stop too 

 long on the way to fish. 



From Echo Lake the variety-loving angler may haul 

 his boat across country six miles to Jordan River, one' of the 

 best trout and grayling rivers in the State, from whence he 

 may paddle down into the south arm of Pine Lake, on down 

 to Charlevoix and back up Pine Lake to the mouth of Boyne 

 River, another excellent trout stream. Six miles from the 

 mouth of Boyne, by a good road, is Boyne Falls, on the G. 

 R. and 1. R. R. A dollar pays the fare between these two 

 points in a good stage — no Mancelona hack — that connects 

 with daily steamer for Charlevoix, the South Arm and Jor- 

 dan River. Another pleasant trip for a party of not more 

 than a dozen is to cuarter the little steam yacht Wahwataysee 

 — whatever under the canopy that may mean — owned by 

 Wadsworth and Thurston, leave Central Lake in the morn- 

 ing, steam to the head of Six-Mile, which is as high as the 

 boat can ascend, and back to Central in time for supper. 

 This will be a trip strictly for the scenery, as there will be 

 no time to wet a line. 



Or, go down the lake to the mouth of the little stream 

 opposite Long Point, fish the water along there for half a 

 mile, and go on down into the pocket and around the islands, 

 and you may be sure of good sport among the bass and long- 

 faces. 



From Central you can make the trip in small boats down 

 through Intermediate, Grass, Clam, the lower end of Torch, 

 Round and Elk lakes to Elk Rapids, the outlet of the "Six 

 Lakes" into Great Traverse Bay, fishing where you please 

 and camping where you can, for good camping places are 

 scarce aloDg the shores of these lakes. 



From Central across to Russel's landing on Torch Lake is 

 four miles by a good road, and four miles across the lake is 

 the Lewis House. At either place you can lake a daily 

 st> atner and reach Elk Rapids, going through nearly the 

 whole length of Torch Lake, wtich is a beautiful sheet of 

 water 18 miles long and four miles wide, and clear as crystal. 



Going down, you pa<s the mouth of Clam River to the left, 

 which is the oatflow of Clam, Grass and the lakes above. 



At this point is a fair "hostelrie," kept by Mrs. Lucy. 

 Thayer, where you may also procure boats in which to go a 

 fishin'. 



To the left, after leaving Clam River, you fiass spencer 

 Creek, flowing into Torch Lake from the East, and into 

 Torch River, from the same side comes Rapid River. Both 

 excellent trout streams, the latter, perhaps, the best for large 

 trout in Michigan. 



At Elk Rapids, after a transfer of a few rods, auother 

 steamer takes you to Traverse City, the terminus of the 

 branch road, twenty-six miles from Walton Junction on the 

 G. R. &l. R. R. 



This is a much better route by which to reach Intermediate 

 Lake, via Central, than the one we went in by, and we in- 

 tend going i'i that way next season. By this route there are 

 only four "miles of wagoning, and it saves the laborious and 

 back-breaking trip up Intermediate River and the twelve and 

 a half miles hack-ride (?). not to mention the amount of plain 

 and ornamental " cussin" necessary to reach Lewis' Lland 

 from the head of the rapids. 



Another way to go in is by vay of Torch Lake and the 

 Lewis House, near the head of the lake. 



A steamer takes you from Traverse Cily to Torch Lake, 

 where a narrow strip of land separates the lake fro n the bay, 

 crossing which you run into Frank Lewis and his hou?e — 

 famed as a resort for bay fever victims. Frank, besides 

 knowing how to keep a hotel, ia one of the best " inveigiers 

 ■ ,f rror.i. ond grayling in them parts," and, knowing the 



streams and lakes of that, section like a book, can tell you 

 where to drop your fly and be rtaBonablv certain of a rise. 



From his place, Traverse City, Charlevoix, Petosk-y and 

 the Island of Mackinac may be reached by a daily line of 

 steamer.--. " KtNGFrs.HKR. 



TO J1K CONTINUED 



GRASS RIVER. 



IT was evident that, the trout would no longer bite irv 

 M assawepic, so the Professor had readily agreed to Hank's 

 ptoposal to make a fishing trip to Grass River, and the sun 

 on this August morning caught its first glimpse of them 

 already half way across the lake, rowing toward the outlet. 

 Massawepie outlet is a very narrow, shallow^ sluggish brook 

 which loses itself in an interminable mass of aider bushes. 

 Wren says that sometimes it flows into the lake and some- 

 times out of it. It cannot float an ordinary cedar boat, but 

 it is no ordinary boat which is being pushed along it 

 to-day, and whose history Wren tells as they work their way 

 down. Some time ago there dwelt near the South Woods 

 settlements an old Indian named Leo. Once th^se woods 

 were the home of others of his race, and for years the Ra 

 quette flowed by the wigwams of his fathers. But at last 

 he alone was left to hunt the forests and fish the streams 

 that had been theirs. Every spring, when the snows had 

 melted from the hills and the ice passed from the waters, u 

 canoe came down the river from the .North Woods, running 

 the rapids as the Hurons ran theirs of old, and Leo had a 

 visit from the Indian Capt. Peter. A. few d'iys tho two 

 hunted and fished together, and then Capt. Peter went up 

 the river and back again to guide in the North Woods. Bur, 

 one spring Leo watched for the old guide in vain, for the 

 Huron had run his last rapids and the waters of the Raquette 

 had borne him for the last time. Soon Leo too was gathered 

 to his fathers, and left his bark canoe, named Capt. Peter for 

 his Indian friend, to an old trapper; the old trapper gave it 

 to a guide ; the guide sold it to our Professor ; and it is the 

 very same shapeless, ugly craft that he is pulling along to 

 day through the alders, in constant fear of driving some hid- 

 den snag through its bottom. He bought it without seeing 

 it. It was enough for him that it was a baiK canoe, but 

 when he first viewed his purchase he was overcome. "Oh; 

 shades of the red men .' Can it be that the Huron whom I have 

 oft pictured in my mind, skimming thase wild mountain 

 lakes, ever floated about in such a tub as this?" 



The craft became the laughing'-sto^l.. of the camp, and all 

 agreed that, like its master, it had' much more tar about it 

 than poetry. 



Four miles of alder bushes over, they had reached Grass 

 River. The course lay' up the stream, and it was bard pad- 

 dling. Grass River is here about five feet wide. Innumer- 

 able creeks and inlets, ! .king much more like rivers than 

 the stream itself, constantly led them astray. Two miles 

 up they landed. The Professor cast a fly upon the stream, 

 and in a fewmomenfj had ten trout — enough for dinner. A 

 few rods from th" river bank was one of the inevitable 

 three-cornered bark huts, built by some still hunter, probably 

 Hutehins, W-en said. Here they camped, and by two 

 o'clock were again on the river. 



Never y s brook so alive with fish. They were not large, 

 the best weighing only half a pound. There was not per- 

 haps i hat exhilarating "excitement which the fisherman feels 

 when his light rod doubles in playing a two or three-pounder. 

 Mut if there be any sport in landing the spotted trout as fast 

 as you can throw your fly, that sport was the Professor's on 

 that August afternoon. Only an alder pole and a few flies — 

 a split bamboo would have been useless here among the 

 bushes — but whew ! how they did rise, and take hold too. 

 The Professor cast his fly upon the surface of a dark pool. 

 A flash of golden light from the gloom below, a strike, and 

 a quivering half-pounder lay in the bottom of the canoe. 

 Then he took another from the same spot, then still more, 

 until thirty-eight had been taken from that one spring-hole. 



"Hulloa! what's that?" 



" Hulloa! yerself." 



"A man, Wren ; look at him ; square in the middle of the 

 brook." 



It was a man, sure enough, and he was wading across the 

 stream. The. water was about up to his waist and the tails 

 of a blue swollow-tail coat which he wore were streaming out 

 behind him upon its surface. His br>ard was long and shag- 

 gy, his figure lank and emaciated. Over his shoulder were a 

 gun and fish pole, and from the lat:er hung a string of trout. 



"I say, old feller, what are you going across there for?" 



"To get to the other side, you darned fool, what d'yer 

 s'pose." 



" It's ole Wheeler," said Wren; "he's a crazy hermit* 

 His hut is just across there. We'll visit him some day." 



It was quite dark when our two fishermen reached their 

 camp. They soon bad a blazing fire, and by its light cooked 

 their supper. Never had fish seemed so delicious to the 

 Professor. Often since that night, when he has sat down at 

 a hotel tahle to a dish that the bill of fare called "trout," he 

 has recalled that supper in the backwoods — the bright light 

 of the camp-fire, breaking the gloom of the forest around and 

 flickering upun the faces of the two weary fishermen ; their 

 table, the mossy covering of the ground beneath their feet ; 

 their repast, the fresh, rich trout ; their drink, the water 

 from a clear, cold spring. 



And when through the branches above they could see the 

 stars appearing, one by one, they lay down with their feet to 

 the fire and the rude bark for their covering. Committing 

 themselves to Him whose care is for the least of His children, 

 they were lulled by the moaning of the hemlock to their 

 rest. 



1 ' Wake up, Professor I Wake up I" 



The Professor put forth his head from the blanket, and 

 looked out. Hawk was standing in the rain outside. 



"What's the matter!"' 



"Bear!" 



The Professor made a frantic grab for the rifle. 



" Don't be scared ; he's over Blue Mountain by this time.'' 



He pointed to the ground aa he spoke. The Professor 

 looked, but saw only a small trout lying there. Nothing re- 

 markable that, but just beyond he saw another, then more. 

 Then it flashed across him. He turned to where they had 

 left the pack basket with three hundred trout, all cleaned and 

 salted. 



It was gone. 



" Don't tell me a bear could carry that off. Wren, you've 

 hidden it, or old Wheeler's stolen it." 



■ ■ He's stuck his head in it an' he can't get it out, Profes- 

 sor. He crossed the brook down yonder and the basket 

 dragged in the mud> He's scattered the fish all along. He'll 

 have to travel tniuhty slow, an' p'raps we can loller biro," 



