AT SUGAR LAKE, B. C. 



H. D. H. 



Early last fall a party of us started for 

 Sugar lake to enjoy a week or 2 of fishing 

 and hunting. Starting from Vernon, with 

 pack horses, we went up White valley, 

 through a fertile farming country. At the 

 head of the valley we began our descent to 

 the Shuswap river ; then on to Eight mile 

 creek, where we camped. At daybreak next 

 morning the ponies were brought in and 

 packed. For about a mile we followed the 

 road, then abandoning the highway we 

 passed through a clump of pines and down 

 a steep hill to Cherry creek, an old time 

 placer mining ground. Crossing that we 

 clambered up the bank and after a short 

 search found the old Sugar lake trail, a 

 route seldom traveled nowadays. Then for 

 12 miles we pushed on slowly, occasionally 

 stopping to remove fallen trees from the 

 road so our ponies could pass. About 4 p.m. 

 we reached the head of the lake and camped, 

 picketing the ponies on the shore among 

 some exceedingly coarse beaver grass. 

 Next morning we discovered an old hermit 

 who for years has lived alone in these moun- 

 tains. From him we hired a dugout, and 

 rigging up our trolling line went fishing. 

 We were not successful until, paddling 

 along the shore we came to the mouth 

 of a stream, called by the hermit Sitcum 

 creek. There I got my first bite, and after 

 an exciting 10 minutes' fight landed a 4 

 pound trout. For an hour and a half I en- 

 joyed as good sport as man could wish for. 

 Then with 4 fish in the canoe we went on 

 to the beach where we left G. to choose a site 

 for camp, and cut tent pegs. J. and H. re- 

 turned to our previous night's camp for our 

 things, getting back in time to pitch tent 

 and have supper before dark. The follow- 

 ing morning we were awakened by the 

 crack of G.'s rifle, and saw him standing at 

 the tent door, gun in hand, while about 100 

 yards away a dark object was struggling on 

 the ground. It was a large gray timber wolf, 

 and from tracks and signs we later discov- 

 ered that a pack of them made Sugar lake 

 and vicinity their stamping ground. We 

 killed a goose that day, so had a chance 

 to vary our meals. We spent the day ex- 

 ploring the rocky banks of the lake. In our 



ramble we met the old hermit again, and 

 he told us that on top of the mountain, on 

 the East side of the lake, was a level range 

 10 miles long and 1 to 2 miles wide, on which 

 were innumerable deer and goats, while in 

 the timber back of it caribou were plentiful. 



Next day we started for the range, reach- 

 ing the top about 2 p.m. and camping at the 

 nearest water, 3 miles from the summit. 

 While the others prepared camp I went out 

 with my favorite double Syracuse gun to 

 see what I could find. In half an hour I 

 got 6 fat blue grouse and could have killed 

 4 times as many. Rabbits were continually 

 popping from one patch of brush to another 

 all round me. I saw many porcupines, and 

 signs of bear, deer, and goats were every- 

 where. 



Around the camp fire that night we con- 

 gratulated one another on the grand pros- 

 pect for sport. About midnight K. awak- 

 ened us and in an alarmed whisper said, 

 " Boys, grab your guns; there's something 

 in the tent! When you are ready I'll strike 

 a light." 



We seized our guns and gave the word. 

 By the dim light of the match we saw some- 

 thing at the door of the tent. 



Bang! bang! 



" Strike another light, quick! " we yelled. 



" Don't get excited," answered ]., an old 

 hand in this part of the country; " what do 

 you fellows think it is? 



" A half grown bear," said one. 



" A wolf," said another. 



" Bet you it's a porcupine," said J. And 

 so it proved. 



In the morning our breakfast was eaten 

 long before light, and with the first streak of 

 dawn we separated to hunt goats and deer. 

 They were plentiful; none of us went more 

 than a mile from camp before making a kill. 

 I shot a fat 5-prong buck which I jumped 

 a quarter of a mile from camp. H. got an 

 old he goat on the wall rock that forms 

 the Northern boundary of the range, and J. 

 killed a young buck. After dressing our 

 game we returned to the lake, reaching 

 camp by 5 that evening. The following day 

 was the last of our vacation in the Sugar 

 lake country. 



" How are you getting on with your 

 rifle practice, Judd? " 



" Well, I have no fear of ever developing 

 into a game hog." 



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