134 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aug. 17, 1895. 



M Mportetiimi §ottmi 



TO LAKE TEMAGAMINGUE. 



The near approach of my next outing brings remin- 

 iscences of my last and reminders of my debt to Forest 

 and Stream and its readers. 



If you will turn back a year and a half, you will find in 

 the canoe columns of the Forest and Stream a very 

 interesting article by "The Chief," entitled "Away up 

 North." It proved to me particularly interesting: and led 

 to a lengthy and kindly correspondence with "The Chief" 

 (Mr. H. K. Wicksteed), and later with Mr. C. Rankin, 

 chief factor of the Hudson's Bay Co. at Mattawa, and with 

 Mr. Wragge of the Grand Trunk Railway at Toronto, all 

 with a view to planning a trip to the region lying north 

 of Lake Nippissing and the Canadian Pacific Railway. 



Everything being arranged, my wife, who is known to 

 readers of a former article of mine, in your paper, under 

 the pseudonym of "Jim;" our black cocker "Jerry," who 

 also had a conspicuous part in that article, and the writer, 

 left New York one evening by the New York Central for 

 Niagara Falls and thence proceeded to Toronto. 



Mr. Wragge was exceedingly kind, as were all officials 

 of the Grand Trunk Railway. Mr. Francis of the engineers' 

 department kindly corrected our map of the region to be 

 visited, to agree with their latest survey. 



That evening found us in a sleeper en route for North 

 Bay, where we made connection the next morning with 

 the westward bound Canadian Pacific train. The same 

 train taking us to Sturgeon Falls had brought our two 

 guides, canoes, outfit and provisions from Mattawa, and 

 the hour's run to Sturgeon Falls was pleasantly spent in 

 making acquaintance with the guides and outlining the 

 trip. We stopped at the McGrath House, whose proprie- 

 tor facilitated matters a great deal, and a busy three hours 

 spent in unpacking and repacking made us ready, and 

 with our canoes and goods in a wagon we started for the 

 Sturgeon River, a short mile away, and left civilization 

 behind us. 



We were met at Sturgeon Falls by a third guide, who 

 had been telegraphed for as an afterthought; so we 

 eventually started as a party of five, and the dog. Going 

 about two miles up the river we camped for the night, 

 spending the remainder of the afternoon in sorting and 

 rearranging the luggage. The next morning our real start 

 was made. 



The Sturgeon River for the first nine milles, up to 

 Sandy Falls, is a broad, deep, sluggish stream of brownish- 

 colored water and uninteresting scenery. Above the falls, 

 and for five miles further to Smoky Falls, the river is 

 more rapid and quick water was struck several times, 

 sometimes requiring short portages. 



We met several large flat-bottomed boats, loaded with 

 hay and grain, with crews of lumbermen on their way to 

 camps in the interior, and were much interested in their 

 methods of hauling the big boats up the rapids. 



We camped at the head of Smoky Falls. During the 

 evening four Indians with a canoe came over the carry 

 and continued their journey to the village. They had 

 come since morning from the H. B. C. post on Lake Te- 

 magamingue, a distance of sixty miles. 



An early start in the morning and four miles brought 

 us to the mouth of the Tomiko River. Here, over a carry, 

 we had our first shooting, getting, with Jerry's help, four 

 partridges, three of them falling by Jim's skill, and soon 

 after a couple of ducks were shot. 



Never shall I forget the Tomiko. From Sturgeon River 

 to Tomiko Lake (nine miles) it was fairly good going and 

 rather interesting; above that point and as far as Tilden 

 Lake it was hard work and monotonous. It is a narrow 

 stream of black, still, mist-covered water with low alder- 

 fringed banks back of which could be seen a low marshy 

 country. It is broken by ledges of rocks which crop out 

 j]u8t sufficiently to render portages frequent. Not a fish 

 jumped, nor was there other sign of life except great 

 hornets' nests hanging from the alders on either side of 

 the river, and frequently large owls sitting on dead trees 

 that would allow us to approach within a short distance 

 and then with heavy flight betake themselves further up 

 the stream. The weather was damp and warm, and the 

 atmosphere and surroundings recalled descriptions of 

 African and South American rivers, and one would not 

 have been surprised to have seen great snakes hanging 

 from the trees, and crocodiles and hippopotami floating 

 about in the water. Three days were consumed in going 

 the twenty-seven miles of the Tomiko, including its 

 twenty-seven portages, and it was Saturday afternoon 

 when we came out on beautiful Tilden Lake, where we 

 spent Sunday. 



Monday morning found us again en route, and from 

 this point on our journey was not hard. Our days were 

 spent about as follows: breakfast was over and camp 

 struck usually about seven o'clock, and we would work 

 along making what progress we could, here and there 

 picking up a partridge or duck; dinner wherever twelve 

 o'clock found us, and continuing along we would make 

 camp about five o'clock. Except on the Tomiko we 

 camped on the shores of a lake every night. By seven 

 o'clock it was dark, but all work would be done and we 

 would sit about the fire, listening to hunting, logging and 

 voyaging stories by McGregor in Scotch- American or by 

 Pillon in his more musical and interesting French-Cana- 

 dian; or, with our reflector, hunting and camping lantern 

 lighted (an exceedingly good and powerful lantern made 

 by the R. E. Dietz Co. of New York), we would read the 

 few books we had brought, and half-past eight or nine 

 o'clock would find us ready for our tent and the rubber 

 air bed, which we found very convenient where camp 

 was broken so often, and which assured us always a 

 sound night's rest. 



Thus we journeyed through a succession of beautiful 

 lakes— Tilden, Pine, Poplar, Marten, Wicksteed, Boyce, 

 Redwater, Rabbit, White Bear and Temagamingue— nearly 

 all connected by fairly navigable streams. 



The exceeding low water doubled the number of por- 

 tages, which, however, were always short, and some- 

 times made hard bits of travel, especially during the first 

 half of our journey, where there were no trails or only 

 those cut last year by the survey [party, and which had 

 become overgrown. This often necessitated our taking 

 the bed of the stream, either over rocks and boulders or 

 across marshy, grassy stretches barely covered with water 

 and mud feet deep. 



The region traversed between the mouth of the Tomiko 

 and Rabbit Lake has never been lumbered, and except as 

 mentioned along the Tomiko the forest is primeval, the 

 shores of the lakes and streams being well wooded. 



It is a country not visited except in winter by Indian 

 hunters from the H. B. C. posts, and we did not meet a 

 soul till Lake Temagamingue was reached. The country 

 looked full of game, and although we saw but one deer, 

 tracks of moose and deer were very frequent along the 

 shores. Partridges and ducks were very plentiful, and 

 our larder was nearly always stocked. 



We caught black bass in every lake visited— they were 

 abundant, took any bait and in most of the lakes were 

 gamy and would run evenly from 2| to 31bs. Pickerel 

 and wall-eyed pike (dore) were often caught weighing 4 

 to 5lbs., and Jim landed one most beautiful golden wall- 

 eyed pike weighing nearly 71bs. He is still in Boyce 

 Lake, for having plenty of fish on hand we let him go after 

 admiring him to our hearts' content. 



Saturday night caught us at the head of the northeast 

 arm of Lake Temagamingue, and we camped over Sun- 

 day on a beautiful point from which the view was en- 

 chanting-^islands of all sizes on every side and stretching 

 down the lake until they limited the view at perhaps a 

 distance of two miles. This lake has been well described 

 by "The Chief," and I will simply indorse him and add 

 that the bass are exceedingly gamy owing no doubt to 

 the water being so clear and cold. 



Monday afternoon we made the H. B. C. post on Bear 

 Island, and passed a few hours very agreeably with the 

 factor, Mr. Turner, and his interesting family, afterwards 

 going into camp on an island just below the post. 



The next morning we started on our return journey 

 and by easy stages through Cross and Red Cedar lakes, 

 down the Temagami and Sturgeon rivers, reached Stur- 

 geon Falls— the only incident worth recording being an 

 exciting run down six miles of rapids and quick water. 



Thus was our journey completed and a summing up 

 showed we had visited fifteen lakes, ten rivers, made 

 sixty-seven portages and covered a distance of 197 miles in 

 fourteen days. 



With one or two exceptions the lakes and rivers were 

 very enjoyable, some of the lakes being as beautiful as any 

 I have ever seen, notably Boyce, Tilden, Rabbit and 

 Temagamingue. 



The rivers are narrow and winding with closely wooded 

 banks, and the falls and rapids which necessitated por- 

 tages are picturesque and serve to vary the monotony of 

 the voyage. 



While portages were numerous they were all short, only 

 one of two miles and the larger number perhaps 100yds. 

 each. 



The country is undulating and covered with forests. 



We saw no large game, but there is every evidence that 

 it exists there and could be obtained by more erergatic 

 and persistent hunters than our party consisted of. 



Partridges and ducks were plentiful, and black bass, 

 pickerel and dore could be had at any time in any quantity 

 and were very gamy. 



It is a country but little known to sportsmen as yet, 

 but cannot remain so much longer and is well worth a 

 trip. 



The Hudson's Bay Company at Mattawa will furnish 

 everything needful for any length of time, charging a 

 moderate rental for canoes and camping outfit, and but 

 little, if any, advance on New York prices for provisions. 

 It has more or less control of a number of woodsmen and 

 hunters, and the selection of guides can be very safely left 

 to the chief factor, Mr. Rankin. 



Of our guides, one, Gus Pillon, an Indian, has been de 

 scribed by "The Chief." We cannot agree with him fully 

 in his estimation of Pillon's character, as he showed to 

 us nothing but good temper, courtesy and a desire to 

 please. 



We can also speak very highly of John McGregor, a 

 Scotchman. Both of these men were recommended by 

 "The Chief" and Mr. Rankin. 



The third man, David St. Eloi, who claimed to be pure 

 French, but looked like a half-breed, I cannot recommend 

 at all. He was disobliging, discourteous, had a bad influ- 

 ence on the other men, and was altogether a most unde- 

 sirable man. 



I shall be very glad to give what information I can to 

 any one proposing to visit that region. F. W. G. 



New York. 



ON THE UPPER MOLALLA, 



When Ira Moody died, several years ago, I felt that 

 nobody else could ever take his place in the Molalla 

 country. He was so thoroughly familiar with that country 

 and its sporting resources, so compankraaoie, so whole- 

 souled and generous-hearted that I had come to regard 

 Moody and the Molalla as inseparable if not quite synony- 

 mous. But the spirit of my old friend went away to that 

 unknown and silent shore from whence no traveler re- 

 turns, while the old Molalla goes right on night and day 

 just as of yore, fretting and murmuring, only that now 

 it seems to whisper: "Men may come and men may go, 

 but I go on forever" — a sort of lullaby to the ashes of dear 

 old Ira, mingling in the dark union of insensate dust in 

 that country he loved so well. Peace to those ashes! 



But Fay is a big boy now, and I am glad to say that he 

 is proving himself a worthy son of a worthy sire. He is 

 a great big chip off the old block. He is over 6ft. tall, 

 well proportioned, with eyes and hair that would make a 

 Sioux brave turn green with envy; brave, prudent and 

 honest. Fay is all right, and then, too, he is full of the 

 fire and ambition of youth. You know that age knocks 

 a good deal of that out of a fellow. By the way, I wonder 

 if sportsmen grow old like other people. Expect they do, 

 although possibly not quite so fast. I find myself inter- 

 rogating myself about that matter considerably here of 

 late, particularly since our return from the Upper Molalla 

 country. 



Can it be that I am getting old? I feel stiff and sore, 

 and my bones rasp and grind in their sockets as if they 

 needed new packing and a fresh supply of oil. But then 

 it was a long, hard trip over rough mountains and stony 

 trails. There was a time when no four days' trip, no 

 matter how rough, could break me up- in any such way. 

 Mead says it all comes from getting fat .and lazy. But I 

 am neither to any great extent; and besides, a fejlow that 



is nothing but skin and bones has no right to sit in judg- 

 ment on fat people. Probably the fact of the matter" is 

 that I have arrived at that stage of my existence when I 

 can endure more rest than I could twenty years ago. I 

 know that the trails seem more rugged and the mountains 

 look more formidable than then, and I find less malicious 

 envy in my heart when some other fellow, like Mead for 

 instance, succeeds better than I with the rod or gun , as 

 was the case on this trip to the upper waters of the 

 Molalla. 



A letter just at hand from my good friend "O. O. S." puts 

 it plainer than I can. I know the other boys will pardon 

 me, and I hope he will excuse the liberty I take in quot- 

 ing from that letter, for he describes some symptoms with 

 which many of us are getting quite too familiar. He 

 says: "I find this summer that I am less able by far to 

 endure fatigue than ever before. Whether it is owing 

 to some temporary indisposition or weakness, or whether 

 it is something come to stay, I know not. That will ap- 

 pear later; I opine that it is the latter, however, and that 

 the ability to endure which has always been mine in a 

 remarkable degree is gone forever. It don't hurt, though, 

 as I once should have supposed it would. Age dulls the 

 sensibilities, which is a kind provision of an all-wise 

 providence. I begin to think latterly what a happy ex- 

 perience it would be if I could be set down by the side of 

 some fine trout stream, with adjacent lakes handy for bass 

 or other fish, where I could pitch my tent and without 

 great exertion enjoy timely sport like the old fellows have 

 done (and do) whom I have looked upon with feelings of 

 amusement and with perhaps a tinge of pity, that they 

 could not, with us young and brawnier sportsmen, climb 

 and row and tramp and rejoice in the bounding enjoy- 

 ment of undiminished manhood. I begin to appreciate 

 their position now, and am content with less and less; if 

 not content, the edge of disappointment and unsatisfied 

 ambition is not so keen. Have you begun to feel any such 

 symptoms?" 



I guess I have, Brother Smith; but I'm not going to 

 plead guilty. The boys will have to prove it on me. 

 Here's an alibi right here in this trip to the Upper Mo- 

 lalla, and I'm going to tell you all about it. 



You see, Fay had written that if we (that meant me and 

 my running mate, Mr. J. Roberts Mead) would come out, 

 he would take us to a part of the Molalla country that his 

 father had never shown me and perhaps, never knew 

 much about himself. Youthful vigor had made a point 



