TROUTING ON THE THUNDER. 



35 



The floors are carpeted with the hides of 

 deer, elk, bear, caribou and lions. 



We spent a week with him, during which 

 time we had enough experience fishing, 

 hunting deer, grizzlies, and lions to make 

 a book. I often got tired and hungry, only 

 to go home and cat in a manner that sur- 

 prised myself. 



Space forbids my writing of old Jakey's 

 mode of living. The meats at one particu- 

 lar meal consisted of elk steak, deers' rigs 

 boiled and stewed down, deers' brains, 

 rolled in pulverized crackers and fried, and 

 a large platter of mountain trout. These, 

 with Jakey's coffee and biscuits, made, it 



seemed to me, a meal good enough for any 

 one. 



This first visit to Jakey's ranch occurred 

 in 1893, since which time I have made him 

 several visits, spent many days with him on 

 the trail, and many nights with him by the 

 camp fire, of which I may write again. I 

 hope to be in Hoover's park in the near 

 future. If any of your readers wish to make 

 a trip to the mountains, in quest of sport or 

 health, I will gladly write them directions 

 and letters of introduction that they may 

 visit the prince of hunters and see, in the 

 wonderful park, the wondrous beauty I 

 cannot describe. 



TROUTING ON THE THUNDER. 



A. D. CURTIS. 



" De Veney comes with me to go fishing to-morrow. 

 Get bait. Cook." 



Thus read a telegram received one day 

 early in May. The bait was dug, the min- 

 nows caught, the flies carefully looked 

 over. In short every preparation was 

 made for the first trout fishing trip of the 

 season. 



The desire to get into a trout stream, 

 that had been growing stronger every day, 

 finally reached its head. The result was, 6 

 Marinette (Wis.) members of the Wau- 

 che-wense Rod and Gun club, with 2 Chi- 

 cago Calumet club friends, alighted at 

 noon, the 9th, at Ellis Junction. 



There we found 2 rigs backed up to the 

 platform. The skiff, in sections, was stowed 

 in the bottom of the heaviest wagon and a 

 few minutes sufficed to pack everything 

 carefully. The Joker gave the minnows a 

 change of water and a few drops of brandy, 

 which livened them up surprisingly. Then 

 the start was made. 



The highest point in Wisconsin, eleva- 

 tion 4,000 feet above Green bay, distant 23 

 miles, was our destination — known "to the 

 Indians as Wau-che-wense, and to the 

 whites as Thunder mountain. The country 

 had been "logged"; jack pine now being 

 the prevailing timber until within a few 

 miles of our fishing ground; there the vir- 

 gin forest began. 



Camp was reached 2 hours before sunset, 

 and rods were hastily rigged. Some of the 

 party fished the North branch of the Thun- 

 der, flowing merrily past camp. The rest, 

 with the assistance of Wade, our lodge 

 keeper — the greatest talker in the State — 

 carried the sections of the boat up the 

 mountain to the little lake half a mile from 

 camp. Soon the bottoms and ends of the 

 skiff were nailed to the sides, the tar boil- 

 ing and ready to be applied, but no swab 



had been brought. Handkerchiefs were 

 too valuable so far from the source of sup- 

 ply, so 3 of us held Wade down while the 

 Doctor skilfully amputated his trousers 

 half way to the knees. The improvised 

 swab, tied to a stick, did the work satis- 

 factorily. 



It was too late to try for trout, so a bee 

 line was taken through the woods for camp. 

 Supper was awaiting the hungry crowd, 

 and the trout, caught by the other members 

 of the party, fried to a delicious crispness 

 disappeared with astonishing rapidity; 80 

 going down before the 9 appetites were 

 appeased. Cigars and pipes were produced, 

 and, lounging in the balmy evening air, 

 stories were told of former exploits with 

 rod and gun, and plans made for the mor- 

 row. Wade talked and talked; but as he is 

 left alone in the wilds for weeks at a time, 

 some allowance was made. 



It was seemingly but a moment after 

 crawling into our blankets, when his voice 

 was heard again, but not an unwelcome 

 sound; for it was: "Turn out boys; it's 

 5 o'clock; a fine day for fishing and break- 

 fast is most ready." The meal over, 2 of 

 the party were driven 6 miles up stream to 

 fish in the vicinity of an old logging camp; 

 2 others went along to fish down stream; 

 some went East a mile to fish the Handsaw 

 creek; while I fished from the camp down 

 stream. 



These waters have always been celebrated 

 for excellent trout fishing. Both the North 

 branch on which we were, and the South 

 branch, about 5 miles away, are ideal 

 streams. All kinds of fishing grounds can 

 be found. Rapids are frequent, where the 

 gamy trout respond to the cast with a 

 savage rush. The wading is good, though 

 the rocks are slippery and the pressure of 

 water so strong one may be swept into a 



