THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 177 
WONDERFUL LAKES OF BAKER COUN TY 
By J. K. FISHER, Haines, Oregon 
HAVE thought that, perhaps, those who read my former article on 
I stocking Van Patten Lake might be interested in knowing the 
outcome of that somewhat arduous undertaking, and this article 
will give some details as to the success of the undertaking, which at 
the time was looked upon as a disastrous experiment. 
I repeatedly visited the lake, year after year, to learn from per- 
sonal observation what progress was being made and adding each visit 
some additional fish. Until the third year but little was observed that 
could promise a foundation for any great amount of hope; but there- 
after, at spawning time, we could see that tbe experiment was a 
greater success than at first anticipated and the fish were increasing 
in numbers and in size. They had progressed by this time to the point 
where it was deemed advisable to try our luck, as some that were seen 
in the water were fully two feet in length. 
In view of the efforts put forth to stock the lake, and the further 
fact that but one other than myself knew of the stocking of the lake 
and the success of the undertaking, it was necessary that care should 
be exercised in selecting a traveling companion to fish the lake, and 
my choice fell upon an erudite Pundit, who at that time was principal 
of the High school at Baker, both by reason of the fact that he 
was a good sportsman and not overly well versed in woodcraft, which 
promised that he would be satisfied with reasonable fishing and would 
not be able to return to indulge his taste in the future without con- 
sulting me. 
The ’phone being called into requisition, the professor expressed 
pleasure at the invitation and promised to enjoy the sport and forget 
the location. The next day I met him at the station at Haines, and 
the drive to my home, some five miles distant, was pleasant by reason 
of the cheery and interesting conversation of my companion. Early 
next morning, having saddled our horses and gotten the pack animal 
loaded with camping outfit, we struck out. the professor following the 
pack horse and feeling ‘‘fit as a fiddle.’’ For the first four miles 
the going was good, until we arrived at Dutch Flat Creek, filled with 
boulders and just enough water for a ‘‘chaser’’ to a thirsty man, 
when the professor got his first glimpse of what was coming. He 
made the crossing of the ereek in safety, and then came the ascent 
of the Devil’s Backbone, named by a boy who had heard the parson 
give some personal and close-range observations of the physical make- 
up of Auld Clutie, and the description was so vivid that the boy 
thought this was certainly his lordship’s vertebral column; then on 
through the Devil’s Lane onward. I just mention these things to 
indicate that the professor was not now riding so easily and that the 
road was not the road to hell, but simply a hell of a road. 
We soon left the lake trail and struck out for Van Patten, and 
the trail at this time was thickly strewn with logs and covered with 
'. brush, and its length of four miles seemed trebled, at the verv least: 
it was such a journey as would test the spirit of the true fisherman, 
and the professor stood the rigid test with eredit and a big reserve 
to draw upon, 
_ We arrived at the lake and camped close to a fine meadow with 
an abundant crop of rich grass for the horses, who viewed the prospect 
with delight. The professor got off his horse, and as it had been 
his first experience on horseback for five years, and as he had just 
