Six Mo’s,* #52, TUreo Mo’s, NEWYORK, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 18,1879. 
Volume 13—No, 30. 
No. 111 Fulton Street, New Yorlc 
itytigoit J ?iver and J fyke. 
NU1IBER U, 
I T is always difficult to reach the Nepigon Eiver, The 
steamers advertising to land at Bed Eock seldom 
reach it. The place is difficult of access, for frequent 
fogs and the intricate channels leading into Nepigon Bay 
defeat even the best laid plans. One cannot be certain 
of reaching the river at any given time. So, last sum¬ 
mer, we were hardly disappointed when we were told to 
go ashore at Prince Arthur’s Landing, and were com¬ 
pelled, in company with another party, to charter a tug 
to carry us ninety-five miles to the river. 
It was too dark to go further when the skipper anchored 
on the bar at the mouth of the Nepigon, We had passed 
through the bay in the fading twilight, and had seen the 
islands so like the forms of sleeping lions, back against 
the purple hues of the distant mountains. When the 
anchor dropped, sending over the smooth water the ex¬ 
panding ripples towards the shore, we caught sight of 
the solitary light of an Indian camp-fire in the distance, 
and saw on either side the dim outlines of high cliffs 
which we were to see more plainly on the morrow. 
We slept on the floor of the little cabin. We were 
roused in the early morning by the rattling of the anchor 
chains and the hoarse whistle of the tug and its echoes 
from the mountainous shores. Getting on deck before 
the boat was well underway, we observed, as we passed 
along, the changing scene gradually lighting up as the 
sun rose among the hills, Now and then, through the 
light mist which hung close to the surface of the water, 
we could catch sight of a canoe with its owners going to 
visit their nets : and, as the mist rose, the reflection in 
the smooth river of the great piles of green crowned rock 
seemed to add to their height and gave new beauty and 
grandeur to the scene. Steaming slowly up the current, 
we had leisure to appreciate the glorious views of river, 
cliff, and mountain on every side, and as we look back 
upon it now, and search in our memories for scenery 
more impressive, we find few places, indeed, which will 
compare with the entrance to Nepigon Eiver, 
We were not long on the way up the river, before we 
came in sight of the white buildings of the Hudson’s Bay 
Company's post, at Bed Eock. It was about 5 o’clock 
when the tug tied up to the dock and the first glimp se of 
the lowest rapids could be seen. The agent of the company 
came down to meet the boat, and a few Indians who had 
heard the whistle were waiting our arrival. Swarms of 
black-flies welcomed ns, also, and, until we had a smudge, 
made things quite lively. Mr. McLaren, the company's 
officer at that post, treated 11 s very kindly, and gave us 
every assistance in his power consistently with his duty. 
It was not long before the Indians gathered in from far 
and near. They were in better condition than those I 
had met in some places further down the coast, and 
soemed contented—particularly so when they could take 
a meal with our Sault Ste Marie voyagers. ' We had to 
get canoes and Indians, and we were not sorry to see 
them come in, willing, as most of them were, to be em¬ 
ployed where pay was sure and food plenty. But haste 
in selection is had policy; so we took it leisurely, and 
first divided our stores so as to leave enough at Bed Book 
to carry us through, in coasting from there to Sault, in 
the Mackinac boat we had bought for that purpose. We 
kept the market open for good opportunities, however. 
Canoes and men were offered and rejected. Our party, 
B. F. and myself, needed two canoes, and two Indians in 
addition to Louis and Antoine, the Sault voyagers, as we 
had a long trip in prospect and carried considerable 
weight of stores. It was early in the afternoon that we 
engaged Wabagabo (White Staff, or, literally, Standing- 
up White,) and his canoe—a good, staunch craft, rather 
too flat looking and warty to be handsome—and lie and 
his mother-in-law, a not extremely well-favored squaw, 
set about pitching it. This took till evening, and was 
well done ; for Louis, our chief guide, went over it care¬ 
fully, applying his lips to all doubtful places to be sure no 
B-had known Wasa-Kesich (Light Sky) for several 
years, and after the latter’s arrival on the scene, we were 
not long in secmiug his services. “Wassy,” aswe called 
him,. “ for short," was a prize. He was honest (as they 
all. or nearly all, are), faithful, industrious, untiring, and 
cheerful, albeit a genuine heathen. In the weeks he served 
us, we saw nothing in whiehhe could have been improved 
by the missionary, excepting, possibly, in persona! clean¬ 
liness, and in that particular, judging from the “con¬ 
verted ” Indians I have met, it is very doubtful whether 
missionaries would have helped him, That approach to 
godliness don’t seem to he much cultivated among the 
“converts.” Now, Wabagabo was an educated Indian, 
could read and write in his native tongue, and English, 
had been baptised as Peter; but, except in honesty, 
rivalled Light Sky in no human virtues that we knew of, 
although he served us fairly; but he required spurring 
rather often for comfort. 
Peter's canoe earned most of the heavy stores, and my¬ 
self—not a very light weight. Wassy’s, four feet shorter, 
and rather cranky, carried some light baggage; and seated 
on the bottom during nearly all the trip, could be seen 
the picturesque if not graceful forms of B. and F. 
We started about 10 o’clock thenext morning—the men 
taking the canoes up the rapid, while we walked the port¬ 
age track to the foot of Lake Ellen, just at the head of the 
rapids. It was a hard tug—the first always is—for the 
men to bring the loaded canoes up into the lake. They 
are not then “in condition,” but a few days of good food 
and constant work hardens them up, and they will do 
an amount of labor which seems amazing to men of sed¬ 
entary life. We stepped carefully aboard the slight 
craft, waved farewell to young Mr. McLaren who had 
come up to see us off, and cut loose from all civilized en¬ 
tanglements for several weeks. 
Some three miles up the lake we entered the narrow 
channel of the river. It flowed smooth as, oil, but with, 
great volume and power. Shortly after dinner one of the 
brigade canoes with five or six Indian paddlers, and with 
Mr. McLaren in charge, dashed up by us to bring down a 
large boat then at camp Alexander. They made good 
time and when we arrived at that point, they were about 
starting back down the river. There was formerly good 
fishing at this camp, and some fine trout are taken there 
yearly, hut we took the portage, at once and camped a 
half mile further on, on the hack of a warm creek, at the 
end of a water way which is the foot of the heavy por¬ 
tage. These two portages are called Long Portage, being 
some two miles in length, the short canoeing making a 
grateful rest for the wearied men. We could have made 
the whole portage that night, but as we had planned to 
fish Cameron’s Pool we stopped at the place I have men¬ 
tioned. 
Cameron’s Pool is one of the finest on the river. It is 
the hardest to reach, and therefore the least visited of 
the famous ones. Leaving three men at camp the next 
morning to take over the heavier stores and traps to the 
head of the portage, Louis took us in the small canoe 
down the creek and across the rapids, and landed us on 
the bank where the trail to the pool commenced. Secur¬ 
ing the canoe on the bank, he led the way at a rapid 
pace, which told heavily on ns, unused as we were to such 
rough traveling, and in a few moments we were in the 
brush and rocks with no sign of a trail to be found. The 
general direction was plain, however, and we struggled 
on over rocks and fallen timber, and through moss and 
brush and flies. The day was hot, and jjhe breeze blowing 
down the river could not reach ns in the dense thicket. 
A half mile of this and we struck open country, and 
skirting a swamp, we soon found ourselves on the brink 
of the pool, hot and weary. Throwing our tired bodies 
down in the grateful shade of the rocks we abandoned 
ourselves to the enjoyment of the magnificent scenery, 
and the refreshment of the cool breeze. In front of us 
was a fall of over fifty feet and below us the great river 
swept, before taking the next steep and white rapids 
down the valley, round and round in an imm ense eddy 
into whose clear depths we could sec trout uncountable. 
F. was the first to cast his fly, and it had hardly dropped 
upon the water when the crash of his second joint showed 
lie had struck a big fish too strongly, and he retired for 
repairs. The extra joint was quickly rigged, and we 
were soon all so engaged in such glorious sport that we 
forgot the fatigues of the tramp and had a realization of 
the pleasures of Nepigon fishing about which we have 
dreamed so often, An hour so spent brought aches in 
new places, and we stopped for awhile to prepare dinner. 
Louis had in the mean time built a low wall across a 
tongue of water between some rocks, and when we 
gathered around it to look at our captives we had the 
first full consciousness of what we had achieved. More 
than twenty huge fellows lay there, sparkling in their 
beauty and making rushes, not always vain as we soon 
found, for liberty. Two or three that had been killed in 
the fight were cooked, and with the provisions we had 
brought with ns, we made an excellent meal. Abouttwo 
o'clockVe resumed fishing, taking as many as we felt j usti- 
fied in killing, but no more. There were seven mouths 
to supply, controlled by appetites of no ordi n ary capacity. 
When we started hack there were in the sack on Louis’ 
shoulders twenty-two trout, weighing between seventy 
and seventy-five pounds. Besides these, a few small ones 
had escaped through the wall, and some of the larger 
ones had leaped over it. The largest was taken by E., 
four pounds, It was a rare day’s sport, and the memory 
of it will remain with us fresh and sparkling for many a 
long year. Louis led the way back with bis load of fish 
onhis shoulders, and camp kettle andaxe in his hand, over 
a route slightly more practicable than the morning path, 
and we at last got safely back to camp and much needed 
rest, 
At seven the next morning we were off. The men took 
packs which it seemed impossible for them to carry. Wo 
started on ahead with our rods and a lew light traps, but 
before we had made a half mile wc were overtaken and 
passed by the loaded men in their swift pace. Wassay, 
with his canoe turned over his head, a few light pack¬ 
ages dangling from either end, went byuB on that dog 
trot peculiar to the canoe Indian, and wo had not long 
to wait and rest at the head of the portage before the 
canoes were loaded and we stepped aboard, 
The wind as well as the current was against us, and the 
work was pretty heavy all that day. The river extends 
into several broad lakes through which we had to pass, 
and we crossed from side to side to take advantage of 
eddies and sheltered places, and to escape from time to 
time the swift current which in any other river, almost, 
would be called rapids. About three o’clock we reached 
Split Bock, 01' Cathedral Bock Canon. Just below this 
cafion the range of mountains forming the Eastern bank 
of the river from where it leaves Lake Nepigon down to 
this point, terminates in a massive wall of rode, and the 
heights on either side, together with the rush of water 
between, form a view which Impresses the observer with 
a sense of awe and wonder. At Cedar Portage a huge 
rock raises its head a hundred feet or more right in the 
middle of the fierce rapid, and on the east the mountain 
rises almost perpendicularly from the water’s edge over 
thirteen hundred feet, relieved only by straggling clumps 
of stunted bushes which hare sprung up from the debris 
at the foot or the precipice ; while on the west the lower 
heights are clad in the verdure of the cedar and balsanj, 
and of the few deciduous trees which find life there. 
Cedar Portage is short and rough. It detained U3 only 
a brief time, and a half horns’ hard paddling between 
these great and somet imes overhanging rocks brought ns 
to the foot of Island Portage—a short and easy one, hut 
upon the main hind. There is a dangerous ouo over the 
island in the fall, but it is not often used. While the 
men were making this portage we cast a few times below 
the fall, but without substantial success — at least as 
Nepigon fishing goes. 
A mile above is the foot of Pine Portage, which we 
soon reached. This portage is about one and three 
quarters miles long, and is a fair one. We took our rods, 
flies and landing nets, and without waiting for tho men 
started off for Hamilton's' Pool. A fter a mile and a 
quarter of trail, we came to a path leading off to the 
right, within hearing of the roar of the falls, and we 
plunged down the steep hill and in a few moments found 
ourselves on the brink of the beautiful pool. It was near- 
seven o’clock. The western sky was overcast, the 
muttering of distant thunder could occasionally be heard, 
and the deep valley was beginning to grow gray as in the 
dusk of evening. We were to camp on the little grassy 
plot where we stood, and if we were to have fish for the 
morrow we must take them that Saturday night. So 
little time was lost in rigging our tackle, and putting on 
some light flies we started out, as much for “meat” as 
sport. It was past seven o’clock when our flies first 
touched the water, and the trout seemed as anxious to 
catch the flies as we were to capture them. In an hour 
we gathered together at the camp, with an aggregate of 
thirty fish, the largest three and three quarter lbs., and 
averaging over two and a half lbs. The average weight 
was not large, as will be seen, for we had brought in 
every trout captured, fearing \ve should be short in the 
supplies the next day. It was, however, lively work, for 
each had to use his own landing net—no easy task in 
the swift water. 
We were too busy and it was too late that night to 
note the beauty of our surroundings. The darkness 
came on rapidly", and the threatening storm so shortened 
the twilight that we hurried into camp with the spoils 
with scarcely a moment for enjoyment of the scenery. 
So the next morning brought to us .almost anew reve¬ 
lation. The roar of the falls had been music in our ears 
all the night. The glorious view was a_ delight to our 
eyes in the morning. The fall, something over fifteen 
feet in height, was broken into three distinct ones by 
some rocky islands on the brink, and as the water rose in 
great swells below, it sparkled like a huge gulf of cham¬ 
pagne. It was a constant wonder to us all that day. 
The river seemed to move in frequent but irregular 
pulsations, and the charms of our camp and itssurroimd- 
ings were ever new and freshening. 1 1 rained at intervals 
through the day, and we sat in our tent watching tho 
great stream ebb and flow, and bubble and scuttle 
as it rushed on unendingly. With every rising wave 
from the depths below the fall, schools of minnows were 
thrown to the surface, and were followed by hungry 
trout in hurried chase. In a space thirty by forty feet 
out in the middle of the pool, I counted forty-four trout 
clear of tho water, in ten minutes, two frequently hold 
of the same unfortunate minnow; and it was no rare 
occurrence to see twenty or more in the air at the same 
moment in different parts of the pool. Among them all 
we saw none less than, two pounds in weight, and many- 
we judged to be upwards of four pounds. 
Although we had intended breaking camp on Monday 
morning, the loveliness of the place and the certainty cif 
