DOWN THE TA-QUA-MA-NON 
A Deer Hunt That Froze Up 
BY C. J. MIZER 
month of November, 
and our party of three 
was arrived at the flag 
station of Sage, on the 
upper peninsula of 
Michigan. At this 
point the r ra ilroad 
crosses the Sage River, 
down which we pro- 
posed to cruise to the 
Ta-qua-ma-non and 
the deer country. Hav- 
ing shipped our camp equipage several 
days previous to our departure from 

T WAS the beautiful 
built launch, with a 14-horse-power engine, 
and when at last it arrived we launched 
our boat on the Sage, loaded our dunnage 
and started. Seven miles of pleasant 
down-stream cruising brought us to the 
Ta-qua-ma-non River; a beautiful stream, 
averaging about twelve rods in width, and 
in some instances very deep, yet having a 
very sluggish current. For the most part it 
has beautiful, wooded shores, and it is said 
to be navigable for about seventy-five 
miles. Two miles down-stream from the 
mouth of the Sage, we came to a small 
stream called the Gimlet; about a mile 
below this stream we came to a small 

Se 
THE FALLS OF THE TA-QUA-MA-NON 
The hunters’ camp, which was within hearing of these falls, was forty miles, by land, from the nearest railroad station, and, 
due to the river freezing, the tenderfoot of the party had to “hike” out through the wilderness alone. 
Walloon Lake, we expected to find every- 
thing awaiting us, but we were compelled to 
remain at Sage—can we ever forget the 
place ?—five days, waiting the arrival of 
our dunnage. 
Our outfit included an 18-foot clinker- 
deserted shanty on the river bank, and as 
darkness was overtaking us, we decided to 
put up there for the night. 
Sunday morning, the day following, we 
decided to take a part of our dunnage and 
start out on an exploring expedition. Two 
