42 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aim. 8. 1889. 



lit ^fiorknjm %onrint 



CAMPS OF THE KINGFISHERS.-IV. 



ECHO LAKE, OOTaRIO, CANADA. 



OLD SAM and I went on our way down the shore, so 

 intent in admiring the bold rocky hills on the fur- 

 ther side, whose scarred and ragged fronts rose skyward 

 to a height of 200 and 300ft. above the lake, that I doubt 

 if anything less than a 401b. inaskinonje would have 

 awakened us to a realizing sense of our whereabouts or 

 our mission, which was to hunt up the fishy- looking 

 places and get some fish for the camp. 



The shore along which we were now pulling was 

 fronted by a wall of rough, very black rock that rose 

 straight out of the water to a height of ten or twelve feet 

 and extended back to the foot of the sloping hill twenty 

 or thirty rods away, the intervening spaces covered with 

 a growth of small trees and bushes witn here and there a 

 cluster of luscious red raspberries peeping and laughing 

 at us from the top of the bank, because, we had a notion, 

 we could not climb the rocky Avail to get at them. A few 

 rods further along, the wall terminated in a bold point 

 of black, bare rock, from whence the shore swept in a 

 deep curve around to the left to the very foot of the 

 wooded hill, forming a quiet little bay backed by a cedar 

 swamp and lined in front with a heavy fringe of dark 

 green bulrushes that followed the shore line as far as we 

 could see down the lake. 



A pickerel fisher would have followed the rushes 

 around the bay, tolerably sure of picking up a few long- 

 snouts, but we were after better game, and kept straight 

 on down the lake to a small island, a quarter of a mile 

 below, that reared its rocky front lakeward fifteen or 

 twenty feet above the water. Landing at the upper end 

 we wedged the boat in a fissure of the rock which was 

 here nearly on a level with the waterline, and got out to 

 stretch our cramped legs and have a look at this little 

 beauty spot, the only island in Echo Lake. The side facing 

 the mainland on the southerly side was low and flat,two or 

 three feet above the water tor half the length of the island, 

 and except at the upper end and the high bare rock look- 

 ing out on the lake, covered with a thin soil that sup- 

 ported a growth of good-sized bushes, a few young 

 birches, patches- of soft gray moss and a few scattering, 

 stunted huckleberry bushes from which we picked just 

 enough berries to whet our appetites for more. Two or 

 three fair-sized pines standing guard at the extreme lower 

 end, one dead and grim, their roots laced and inter- 

 twined in the crevices of the rock in curious shapes and 

 contortions, completed the pleasant picture, and the half 

 hour or more we spent in poking around the little rocky 

 islet, picking huckleberries, peering into cracks and cran- 

 nies and writing our names with a chip of sharp stone in 

 half a score of places on the smooth, weather-worn rock 

 — as any other pair of schoolboys might have done — was 

 du'y chronicled in old Sam's mental note-book as "one 

 o' the pleasant episodes o' the trip." A few yards from 

 the boat we found '"sign" that a camper had been there 

 at some time; it was a well-flattened bed of old hay shel- 

 tered from the sun and night dews by an overhanging 

 clump of bushes, a mildewed, dilapidated old shoe, a 

 fragment of a decayed old sock — "evidently a one-legged 

 man," old Sam said, "or he would have left the other 

 shoe and sock" — a few strips of birch bark, curled and 

 crinkled and warped by the hot sun, and the remains of 

 what had been a very small fife. We looked in vain for 

 an old tin can lying around, and Sam figured it out that 

 the camper "must hev been a one-legged Injun. " 



At last we climbed, with some "slip backs," up the side 

 of the rock to the top, where, looking out on the lake we 

 got a glorious view from near the camp clear around 

 down to the Euttle farm and back up the other shore, 

 less than an eighth of a mile away, to the rocky point 

 above, and a good view at a glance of the whole island. 

 It was not more than 50 or 60yds. long by nearly half as 

 wide, irregular in shape and almost a solid rock, seem- 

 ingly upheaved by some convulsion of nature from the 

 depths below. Beneath us a rough rocky bottom sloped 

 away a few yards and was lost in the blackness that 

 denoted deep water; how deep we could only conjecture, 

 as we were too lazy to fasten a stone to one of our fish 

 lines and sound for bottom. 



All around the lower end and along the side next the 

 shore was a belt of grass and rushes; and we got back in 

 the boat to try for a bass or two; but after fishing care- 

 fully around it twice without a nibble we agreed that it 

 was wrongly named, Euttle having told us it was called 

 Fish Island on account of the great fishing to be had 

 around it at certain times in the season. As this did not 

 seem to be one of the "certain times," and it was too late 

 in the day to go on down to the foot of the lake, we pulled 

 across to a low rocky point less than a mile away, from 

 which the low densely wooded land stretched a half mile 

 or so to the foot of the high hills. 



The shore front along here was almost solid rock, in 

 places rising straight up from the water, but for the 

 greater part sloping abruptly down from heights of 3 to 

 10 and 15ft. In many places we noticed little sharp 

 wavy ridges Jin. to lin. high and Sin. to 6in. apart, run- 

 ning laterally with the shore, that looked like a black 

 corrugated roof put on the wrong way, but old Sam ex- 

 pressed it more clearly, perhaps, when he said "it looked 

 like some feller had been pourin' hot pitch on the slopin' 

 rock an' the little waves had cooled before they reached 

 the water." Our education bearing on geologial forma- 

 tions in general having been somewhat neglected in our 

 youth, "Snakeroot's"' way of settling the origin of the 

 little sharp ridges was "good enough for the Joneses," 

 and we kept on our way around the shore into a wide 

 bay. reaching deep into the woods on the left, which we 

 found to be comparatively shallow, 8 to 20ft. deep, and 

 well grown up with "mus'rat" grass, bulrushes and 

 patches of great "bush weeds," so familiar to us in some 

 of the lakes of northern Michigan. As we passed one of 

 these 50 or 60ft. in shore Sam stood up and cast his frog 

 within a yard of it, and had hardly resumed his seat, 

 when he was up again with "got another bite at last, 

 b'scosb!" and by the time the skipper had reeled up and 

 taken the oars in hand again he struck the fish: and after 

 a fierce surge that sorely tried the temper of his rod, a 

 handsome specimen of the tribe of Esox shot fully six 

 feet in the air and fell back with a loud spla9h that made 

 our hearts stand still till the line tightened again. "An- 

 other confounded pickerel," said Sam, as he swung his 

 rod around to the left with a hard pull to keep his lord- 



ship away from the bush weeds, for once he should get a 

 turn around one of these angler's abominations it would 

 be certainly good-bye to Sam, with a part of his line 

 besides. 



"Maskinonje, Sammy, as sure as you're a sinner," said 

 the skipper, "didn't you not^ the markings on his side 

 while he was in the air." 



"Pickerel all the same," insisted Sam, and the fight 

 went on. The fish started toward the boat, but two or 

 three quick strokes on the oars shot us up lake into a 

 trifle deeper water, clear of rushes, the line slipping out 

 from under Sam's thumb with sufficient pressure on to 

 keep a taut line. 



Suddenly the fish took a wide sheer to starboard, and 

 before Sam could "pull himself together" was stuck fast 

 in a patch of grass near the bottom, but we could tell he 

 was still on by the twitching of the rod tip. "Well, if 

 that aitrt the beatinest fish ever I hung; wants to dig a 

 hole in the bottom of the lake with his snoot, I reckon," 

 said Sam, as he held his rod well up with one hand and 

 scooped the sweat from his forehead with the other, the 

 skipper meanwhile holding t he boat steady in place and 

 waiting for the fish to "saw loose" or break hook or line 

 and go his ways. But it was a trusty little thread of 

 braided silk, and after a minute or two of intense wait- 

 ing, long, narrow blades of grass, cut by the line, began 

 to come to the surface till the water was covered with it 

 for a yard or more. 



All at once the line slackened, the rod flew up; and 

 Sam came near losing his "equibilerum" and going over- 

 board. "Great Scott! he's gone and done it," from Sam, 

 in a tone that moved the skipper to tears— of hilarity, 

 and in the same breath, "Hooray! there he goes again," 

 as the line tightened and the rod bent to its work once 

 more. Ten minutes more of hard , stubborn fight iu open 

 water, where "the odds were even," and Esox came to 

 the top of the water with dorsal out in token of surren- 

 der, and was led alongside, as Sam said, "pullin' side- 

 ways like a hog goin' to war," where the skipper jerked 

 the gaff in him just "abaft his fo'castle" ana lifted him 

 iu the boat. "A sure enough maskalonge after all," said 

 Sam, as he kneeled and pushed a stringer needle through 

 the lower jaw and knotted the other end of the cord 

 firmly to make sure of his captive, and then he was 

 hooked on the pocket scale and held up with another 

 "hooray!" when he registered just 7£lbs. "A mighty 

 small fish to cut sich a big swath in tall grass,'" remarked 

 Old Kentuck, swinging his prize over the side of the boat 

 and tying him securely to the seat rail. 



The taking of this youngster was highly gratifying, for 

 it was a sign that more of his tribe might be found lurk- 

 ing in the rushes and bush weeds around the lake; may- 

 hap his ancesters were yet living, hale and hearty pio- 

 neers, who could claim the waters by preemption. 



During the excitement of the past few minutes the 

 skipper's frog had been allowed to hang unheeded in the 

 water, and now, aided by the sinker and the easy work- 

 ing of the reel, was quietly reposing on the bottom a dozen 

 yards away, stiff and dead from over-exertion in trying 

 to get to the surface for a breath of fresh air. On reeling 

 up to make a cast, and when the frog was just at the top 

 of the water, a fish that looked as long as Sam's maski- 

 nonje came with a rush from the depths below, seized it 

 with wide open jaws, and with a flirt of his tail that made 

 the water fly, turned and went out of sight in the direc- 

 tion of the rushes, leaving us so astonished at his open- 

 faced impudence that 20 or eiOf t. of line had run slowly 

 off the reel before we realized that the skipper had at l&bt 

 got a run ; the first of the day and the season. 



With a trifle of nervousness, being somewhat out of 

 practice, the fish was struck, and the old rod that had 

 done yeoman service in many similar encounters showed 

 up its good qualities in a way that made old Sam's eyes 

 snap, coupled with a few mild suggestions from him as to 

 how a "beginner" shotddhold his rod, handle his fish, keep 

 his head "flat" and cool (with the blazing sun slanting in 

 his face with a fervency that made his mustache curl), etc. : 

 all of which was lost on the skipper, who was "busy as a 

 dog in a yaller jacket's ne^t," trying with might and main 

 and rod to keep the fish away from a small forest of great 

 bush weeds rearing their tops near the surface off to the 

 right, which had escaped our notice. 



The fight was short and desperate, and in four or five 

 minutes the fish was pulled alongside within reach of the 

 gaff; but as Sam raised it to give him a paraly zer the fish 

 went under the boat with a dash which sent a shower of 

 water in his face. We had been'Uooking for a move of 

 this kind, and when he went under fche boat the rod was 

 whipped around the bow, the tip a couple of feet under 

 water to clear the line, the fish going at a pace that soon 

 had the old rod on its good behavior again. 



After a stubborn rush of 20 or 25yds., the rod prevailed 

 on him to stop and take a rest and he was coaxed back 

 to within a few feet of the boat, when old Sam with a 

 grunt of satisfaction dealt him a whack just back of the 

 eyes with the gaff handle that set his fins to quivering; 

 and reversing it, lifted him in the boat with, " There ! 

 consarn yer ugly picter, I guess ye won't throw water in 

 my face agin, ye sneakin' varmint." 



He was a "sure enough pickerel" and weighed lessthan 

 61bs. by the mental process, as we did not think him of 

 enough account to hang on the scale. We took four 

 more of these Canada pike in a quarter of a mile of fish- 

 ing along up the shore of the bay, and then, as the sun 

 had dropped out of sight behind the mountain, it was 

 time to start for camp if we were to make it before dark. 



We had hoped to get another maskinonje or a few 

 bass, but it was not to be; and we reeled up and laid the 

 rods in the boat, content with our measure of success, 

 but trusting to find them iu better biting mood another 

 day. 



A mile further up we got out on a great fiat, partly sub- 

 merged stone, lying in the water some few feet from the 

 rocky shore, to get the "hump" out of our backs and 

 straighten with sundry jerks and kicks our cramped and 

 stiffened legs. Before us, the base a few rods from the 

 water, rose a cliff of bare, ragged rock 300ft. above the 

 lake, the sloping space between covered loose broken 

 rocks, from the tdze of a cobble stone up to great masses 

 weighing hundreds of ton*, that had been loosened by 

 time and the elements from the giant wall frowning in 

 grim, silent grandeur above us, the rock on which we 

 stood having evidently once been a part of the cliff that 

 had fallen from above and rolled down the slope to find 

 ! a resting place at last in the waters of the lake. After 

 resting a while and puzzling our brains over this weather 

 stained, inscrutable page of the Great Author's manu- 



script spread before us, we turned to have a look at the 

 water round about, and the prospect looked so inviting 

 for sport that old Sam was moved to hook on a frog and 

 feel of the water for a bass. 



The rocky bottom, free of rush or grass as far as we 

 could see, looked as though it might be the abiding place 

 of some of the early settlers of the Mieropterus family, 

 but a half dozen casts by old Sam in as many different 

 directions failing to get a response, we got back in the 

 boat and took our way along shore up lake to camp. 



Another mile, as we guessed it, took us around a rocky 

 wooded point and in sight of the little warehouse a mat- 

 ter of a half mile away, but it looked so unlike the usual 

 camp of the Kingfishers that Sam "reckoned we urn t be 

 lost, strayed or on the wrong trail." But there was the 

 "old flag," the ever glorious Stars and Stripes 30ft. above 

 the outer end of the little dock, flapping lazily in the 

 light breeze that was too feeble to blow it clear of the 

 staff, and with a cheer that was directly answerid by 

 four yells, pitched in as many different keys, we — that is 

 to say,, the skipper — bent to the oars and in afew minutes 

 the boat was alongside the deck and the boys iag<iiy 

 looking over our catch, for on this in some measure de- 

 pended the prospects for fu.ure sport. 



"One maskalonge, one bass, six snakes, and thirty or 

 forty bass and five or six maskalonge that got away; 

 fair day's sport," said the Jedge, as the fish were parsed 

 out and laid on the dock. 



"I'll take my oath," said old Knots with his usual per- 

 versity, "if I couldn't catch a bigger maskalonge th n 

 th t I'd stay in camp and fish off the dock for biuegills." 



"Bet old Sam chased him on shore and killed him with 

 the gaff, see where he hit him?" chipped in Charley, 

 pointing to the gaff wound, at the same time dodging be- 

 hind old Knots that he might be out of reach in case 

 Sam's good nature lost its balance. 



"Bigger maskinonje in lake than him," said Louis, who 

 had been quietly looking on, "see um so long," holding 

 h s hand above his head to indicate he had seen them as 

 long as from his hand to the dock on which he stood.) 

 (Mem. — I may note that Louis and Tom, one of the I n- 

 dians that took us to the lake, are the only persons whom 

 I have ever heard call this fish a maskinonje, nor can I 

 give on paper the peculiar sound of the four syllables as 

 pronounced by them.) 



We were however, too tired and hungry to heed the 

 fishy jokes of the boys, and in a very short time the bass 

 and one of the pickerel were cleaned, cut up and sizzling 

 in the frying pans, and as the last shadows climbed the 

 highest point of Knots' landscape across the lake we sat 

 around the table to our first fi-h in camp. 



Jest, and joke, and laugh mingled with the noisy bum 

 of the multitudinous mosquito, old Knots worked off on 

 us his annual and ancient story of "the old darky and 

 his shrunken catfish," a yarn that we had come to look 

 forward to as one of the inflictions of the yearly c imp. 

 but at which we were bound to laugh from a sense of 

 courtesy and force of habit. We would have been as 

 happy as a colony of beavers with a new dam had it not 

 been for the blackfly, that terror of the north woods 

 when the season "hits." The Jedge said "they had been 

 coming the most of the afternoon in delegations from 

 every province and back county in Canada to pay their 

 respects to us in honor of our first visit to the Queen's 

 dominions, and were only waiting the coming in of old 

 "Snake root and James Mackerel" to begin the festivities 

 of the evening." In the midst of a di-cussion as to the 

 merits of the Canada pike and the dogfish as a food fish, 

 the last delegation from the upper Nepigon put in an ap- 

 pearance, accompanied by a small army of "no see timr, 1 ' 

 and then the fun began in earnest. 



The fishy discussion was suddenly dropped and is not 

 settled yet, and one at a time, but with a surprising 

 unanimity of purpose, we left the table and sought the 

 bushes a few yards away for a "bresh" with which to 

 beat off the invaders. By a masterly flank movement 

 old Knots succeeded in reaching the warehouse and a 

 box of "Jumboline" that he had brought along in his 

 •'pie- box" (his name for his trunk) with which he 

 smeared his hands, face and neck, and with this tempo- 

 rary protection we finished supper in comparative peace. 

 While down at the farm next morning I told Mother 

 Buttle about our experience with the pestiferous insects, 

 and she at once set about preparing a simple mixture 

 that she said was the only thing they had found that was 

 a sure defense against the attacks of the blackfly. An 

 old empty tin can was nearly half filled with grease 

 from the grease pot in the cupboard, an equal cmantity 

 of tar from the tar bucket back of the house was auded , 

 and the can placed on the stove, where the contents were 

 heated and stirred until thoroughly mixed. That was 

 all, but back at the camp a half-ounce of oil of penny- 

 royal was added, and the whole brought to a simmer, 

 well stirred and allowed to cool, making a mixture about 

 the consistency of flipjack batter — this for lack of a bet- 

 ter comparison. We found this to be a sure protection 

 against the blackfly, the moscmito and the punkie (Dick 

 Alacauley's "croppie"), and although not quite as cleanly 

 as some of the much advertised and worthless "insect 

 repellants," it is better to bear the small discomfort of 

 its use than be "eat up blood raw by the bloodthirsty 

 varmints." When well smeared with it we might have 

 been easily mistaken for full-blooded Chippewa Indians, 

 but an application of soap and warm water before going 

 to bed restored our natural color, and h new coat was 

 only put on when needed; we did not allow it to form 

 the famous "Nessmuk glaze." 



For the benefit of the brethren going to this region or 

 northern Michigan during "fly time," which lasts some 

 seasons as late as the middle of August, I beg to give the 

 formula, which I trust will do away with the necessity 

 for "a heap o' plain and ornamental cussin'." Take of 

 tar — just the plain, old-fashioned tar of our fathers — half 

 a pint; lard — vaseline is better— half apint; oil of penny- 

 royal, half an ounce; creosote three drops; mix with heat, 

 and can or bottle for future use. Leave your other 

 smears at home, for they afford only temporary relief at 

 best, and old Sam solemnly avers that "a black fly will 

 laugh his wings loose at all such flimsy shams jest as 

 soon as he reads on the bottle or box that it's a sure 

 enough fly-killer." 



With darkne-s the blackfiies and punkies took their 

 departure, leaving us only our old friends the mosquitoes, 

 for whose better entertainment we buflt a big camp-fire, 

 around which we gathered to smoke, "swap reminders," 

 and relate the experience of the day. 

 1 While Sam and I were out on the lake the others had 



