30 RECREATION 
only a couple o’ quarts o’ water leaked in, 
and never letting up an instant, and when I 
finally pulled in at the home-stretch things 
were hot, things were hot, I can tell ye! It 
took three of us to put the fire out on the 
canoe and then we sat down and were 
quietly eating my trout when the three 
champeen oarsmen came puffin’ past the 
stake.” 
I did not hear Grant tell this tale and 
simply relate it as it was told to me, but I'd 
be willing to wager that for all-around high- 
class imagination he is hard to beat. It 
must have been a relative of Grant’s that 
told me a fish story one day while we sat 
listening for an answer to a moose-call. He 
waxed enthusiastic as he told me in a whis- 
per, for we were keeping very still, that a 
trout had actually flopped into his canoe one 
day as he sat fishing. When he went to 
clean his catch this particular one danced 
and jumped around so that he let it alone, 
and for gratitude it actually came with him 
back to his tent. Next morning it was still 
alive and followed him as he went about his 
chores. For several days it was his boon 
companion, until one fatal morning, as he 
was crossing a log bridge, the trout, doing its 
fish two-step after him, unfortunately 
slipped between a crack in the logs and was 
drowned in the water below. Poor trout! 
I have noticed that while it does a guide’s 
heart good to have an attentive listener to 
his tales, he is equally enthusiastic when 
stories are told or read to him. Last fall I 
took a few light novels into Canada with me 
and when we happened to get back to our 
main camp (a lumberman’s log hut) for the 
night, I had to read until my eyes were tired 
to an enthusiastic woodsman and a jolly old 
cook. Often did I envy them their appre- 
ciation of what seems trivial to a great many 
of us. One night I particularly recall we 
were sitting at a table and I read by the light 
of a little oil lamp. The two men sat oppo- 
site me and could I sense the wide-eyed 
expression on their faces as I came to an 
exciting part of my story. They were so 
worked up that the guide, when the climax 
in the tale was reached, clapped his hand 
so hard on the table that the lamp fell over, 
and, fortunately, went right out; a lot of 
cooking utensils toppled to the ground and 
rattled like a young earthquake, while the 
cook, who was equally worked up, gave a 
yell as he fell from the bench to the floor. 
Order restored, the lamp relit, I had to go 
on with my reading. It was this same guide, 
Jim Manderville, who with a bad attack of 
rheumatism, superinduced by the rainy 
weather we had on the trip, tramped the 
woods with me for two long weeks on a 
moose hunt, saying, when I sometimes sug- 
gested that we were working too hard, that 
he’d drop in his tracks before he’d let me go 
back without getting a crack at a bull 
moose. ‘‘Ye’ve treated me white, Jim,” he 
said to me, “and I’ll find ye a moose.” And 
he did. 
If there was one game that Manderville 
doted on it was ‘‘ pedro.” I had brought a 
pack of playing-cards with me, and many a 
bitter struggle did we have when four of us 
got together (which didn’t happen often) 
around the lunch hour. Puffing away at 
our pipes we would play for a couple of 
hours, and looking back on it now I think 
the guides were oftener winners than losers. 
How they used to chuckle over their victo- 
ries and how keenly they felt their defeats. 
Other tales could I tell, other anecdotes 
narrate of guides with whom I have per- 
sonally come in contact, but I have told 
enough for myself. I shall quote a few 
incidents, however, gathered from outside 
sources, from older and more experienced 
men than I. 
Dr. Wm. E. Hughes, whose tales, told 
me a few years ago, gave me the thirst and 
longing for woodland life that I have since 
been able to gratify, has had many an ex- 
perience with guides, and his views agree 
with mine that too little credit is given the 
guide for his services with a sportsman. 
The Doctor has told me of Jocko Tecon- 
nais, Walter Ferris and Louis Souci, who 
hail from the Temagami district in Ontario. 
For out and out woodcraft these three guides 
are doubtless without peers. One evening 
the patty was seated around the fire chatting 
when Jocko quietly got up and walked a 
few paces into the woods and stood silent 
and serious. Walter got up soon after and 
joined him, while Hughes and the others sat 
and watched the two guides standing still 
and pensive underneath the trees in the 
light of a golden moon. ‘‘He’s off now,” 
said Jocko at last. “Yes,” answered 
