28 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Jan. 30, 1890. 



ON THE NORTH SHORE,-!. 



A THREE WEEKS' TROTTTING TRIP ON THE NORTH SHORE 



OF LAKE SUPERIOR. 

 "Of recreation there is none 

 So free as fishing is alone; 

 All other pastimes do no less 

 Than mind and body do possess: 



My hand alone my work can do; 



So I can fish and study too." 



THE ardent angler who voyages to the north shore of 

 Lake Superior for sport with the feathery lure will 

 not be disappointed in his pleasurable anticipations. Its 

 800 miles of serrated coast displaying its debris of shat- 

 tered rocks and beetling cliffs, its 20,000 or more islands*, 

 its marvelously deep, clear and cold waters, which flow 

 through Michigan, Huron and Erie, giving birth to 

 Niagara— the wonder of the world— fills the basin of On- 

 tario and rolls a mighty flood down the valley of the 

 St. Lawrence to the Atlantic, evidently tend to make it 

 an attractive haunt for the crimson-stained Salvelinus 

 fontinalis. Its deep and icy waters also harbor the great 

 namaycush or Mackenac salmon, while other fish of 

 grosser stock sport and thrive in the great reservoir. 

 The dotted beauty, however, is the fish de resistance, as 

 it attracts from every quarter anglers of high and low 

 degree, all bent on its capture according to their educa- 

 tion in the gentle art. It may be a fly, or bait, or troll, 

 as to method, but he who would guide this princeling of 

 the lake with other than fly artistic is lost to all the 

 emotional beauties of the delightful recreation and is 

 other than a true disciple of the great Sir Izaak, the king 

 of rod and fly. 



Having had a surfeit years agone of trouting on the 

 famed Nepigon, I was anxious for an outing on the north 

 shore of Lake Superior, and so arranged for the trip last 

 summer. My friend Ned. to use brevity as to name, who 

 was to accompany me, agreed to meet me on July 15 at 

 the "Soo." We were prompt as to time, he arriving in the 

 morning and I in the evening of the appointed day. 



Ned is a trouter par excellence from "way back," and 

 is never so happy as when whipping the water with his 

 favorite rod and fly. When a beardless boy he fished in 

 the "ould country"' along the mossy banks of the beauti- 

 ful Tweed, and adown the rippling waters of the 

 Dee, and though now past three score, still has as 

 much love for the sport as ever. He tells with unctuous 

 humor how his.predilection for poaching when a young- 

 ster resulted in his father paving a fine of £10 for him in 

 consequence of being caught by a watchf ul bailiff taking 

 trout by the tickling trick. Since his advent here he has 

 amassed a fine fortune as a contractor, and made himself 

 a lasting monument in the building of the Sault Ste. 

 Marie Canal, considered the finest piece of work of that 

 character in the country. He refers to it with commend- 

 able pride as his last and best work. As a camp associate 

 his qualities are unquestionably of a gilt-edge character. 

 Among his many accomplishments he rejoices in being 

 one of "Israel's sweet singers," and can charm you with 

 an operatic aria or delight you with a comic ditty, and is 

 "So full of pleasing anecdote. 

 So rich, so gay, so poignant in his wit, 

 That time vanishes before him as he speaks." 



With such an entertaining angler, camp life must neces- 

 sarily be one round of pleasure. 



Three days after our arrival we had everything readv 

 for the trip. Two half-breeds with their Macinac sail 

 boat were engaged and provisions sufficient for a month 

 were secured. Knowing from ample experience that 

 much of the enjoyments of camp life depend on the 

 commissariat, we laid in not only substantials, but many 

 of the delicacies in the canned goods, and were luxurious 

 enough to provide mattresses, pillows, mosquito bars, 

 etc., and in fact all that was necessary in an outing of 

 this character. We gave instructions to our boatmen to 

 be on hand at the head of the "Soo" canal with their 

 boat early on the morning of our departure. Being eager 

 to leave, I arose that morning at early dawn full of pleas- 

 ing anticipations of the trip, but when I looked out of 

 the window as I was making my toilet, my hopes were 

 sadly blighted by noticing a leaden sky and a slight fall 

 of rain, which soon increased before I had finished my 

 matutinal meal. Although disheartened by the damp 

 and gloomy weather, I was not entirely discouraged, and 

 with a grim determination to leave rain or shine, I ordered 

 everything we were to take aboard the boat. Ned was 

 not very anxious to go just then, but hung back a while, 

 but after the rain had ceased he got into the wagon which 

 had our complete outfit and we were driven to the boat. 

 I wondered how we were to get all our supplies and traps 

 into the boat, as it was a small affair, and not at all suit- 

 able for stormy weather, but admirable as a coaster. The 

 half-breeds, who rejoiced in the names of Joseph Peters. 



who was the owner of the boat, and Peter , showed 



admirable skill in getting everything stowed carefully 

 away, though the boat, when the job was completed, was 

 so full that I doubted if when we were in there would be 

 space enough left to squeeze in a canary bird. 



Just before sailing Ned's wife and her handsome daugh- 

 ter were seen waving handkerchiefs at the mouth of the 

 canal. Ned beckoned them over, and after an unpleasant 

 tramp through a rough field of broken stone and huge 

 boulders, they reached us quite out of breath. Says 

 Ned's wife as soon as she recovered her breath, "Your 

 boat is too small, and in a rough sea will prove a wet 

 one." She was prophetic as to the boat being a wet one, 

 for such it proved to be on more than one occasion. I 

 was averse to taking it, but Ned, who had made eeverai 

 trips to the north shore, said it would answer, and so I 

 relied on bis experience as to the sea-going qualities of 

 the craft for the trip, and felt assured it was all O. K. 

 Ned finally kissed his wife and daughter a good-by, and 

 on our stepping aboard we shoved off and were soon 

 abreast the waters, amid the flashes of the silver-winged 

 gulls, with life and its worries behind, and headed for 

 the haunts of the trout radiant. The wind, which was 

 scarcely perceptible, was dead ahead, and the ashen 

 blades the motive power we depended on for progress. 



* Capt. Bayfield in his (unpublished) chart of Lake Huron, is 

 aaid to have laid down 38,000 islands, on 20.000 of which he has 

 landed; the remainder in Lake Superior oannot, I should suppose, 

 fall much short of this.— "Lake Superior: its Phuxical Character, 

 etc.," 1850; Agassiz. 



We had scarcely gone a mile before the sky grew dark, 

 then an ominous growl of thunder, a flash of lightning, 

 and soon a rhythmic beat of rain drops set in, much to our 

 discomfort. Rubber coats were now resorted to, and an 

 umbrella, which I had tied among mv rods, did good 

 service. Our dusky boatmen took the rain with the 

 utmost good humor, and kept up the stroke of oars with 

 clock-hke regularity. This dismal condition did not last 

 long, for soon the sky brightened, the sable clouds dis- 

 played their silver lining, the patter of rain ceased, and 

 the sun began to play hide and seek with the scudding 

 clouds. Neds face wreathed in happy smiles at this de- 

 lightful change, and to add paeans of joy to the occasion, 

 sang with the clearness of a bugle's' ringing note to the 

 tune of "All in the Downs:" 



"All in the fragrant prime of day, 



Ere Phoebus spreads around his beams, 

 The early angler takes his way 



To verdant banks of crystal streams. 

 If health, content and thoughtful musing charm. 

 What sport like angling can our cares disarm." 



At this vocal display the boatmen smiled, and then en- 

 sued a jargon of Indian dialect, doubtless a criticism on 

 the rejoicing singer. Ned kept up his vocalism for some 

 time, varying from the sentimental to the comic, much 

 to the delight of all. A slight breeze had now sprung up 

 and a resort to the sail was made. We had, however, the 

 same dead ahead wind as at first, but even with this dis- 

 advantage, and the exercise of considerable patience, we 

 at last reached Point-aux-Pins. It "is about six miles 

 from the "Soo," and as the wind appeared to be on the 

 increase, we concluded to remain until the next morning. 



The point is a mass of sand and gravel mingled with 

 large stones, while the ground which skirts the river is 

 covered with moss and low bushes. A short distance 

 from the river bank you find the white pine, canoe birch, 

 aspen and maple, but before you strike the wood there is 

 an abundance of strawberries, raspberries and blueberries, 

 which attract, during the season, the Indians and half- 

 breeds from the "Soo" and Ooulais and Bachewananung 

 bays, who make good wages in gathering the luscious 

 fruits. There are splendid camping quarters here, but 

 nothing very picturesque about the place. If you are 

 sentimentally inclined you may find the river with its 

 charm of beauty and magic of song, admire the alternate 

 lines of silver and crimson on the rippling waves, see the 

 kingfisher dart along the shore, watch the gull with his 

 snowy breast as he follows in the wake of a steamer, or 

 view the flocks of pigeons as they dash hither and thither. 



A few signs of civilization are apparent in the three 

 log houses clustered here, a farmer occupying one, the 

 lighthouse keeper another, and a half-breed fisherman 

 the remaining one. A small community truly, hut varied 

 enough to prevent absolute monotony." 



Our boatman soon had our suppUes ashore, the tents 

 pitched, and then began the preparation for the noonday 

 meal, our first in camp. Ned suggested that I go to the 

 farmhouse for some fresh milk, while he would get the 

 table in position on the front gallery of the cabin belong- 

 ing to the fisherman who was absent at the "Soo." It 

 was but a few steps to the farmhouse, and I was soon in 

 communication with the fair maiden that presided over 

 the pails of the lacteal fluid. She gave me a pint for 

 three cents, but when an old crusty curmudgeon emerged 

 from the dwelling and looked into the pitcher, which I 

 had borrowed and which contained the milk, he threw up 

 his hands and said there was nearly a quart, and insisted 

 on an additional penny. Of course I made no objection 

 to the extra penny, but was provoked that he came be- 

 tween me and the pretty milkmaid, whose acquaintance I 

 had been swimmingly cultivating. I strode off half angry 

 at the intrusion, and the old curmudgeon, for such he 

 was, followed in my footsteps. Ned had the table and 

 camp stools all ready, and a cribbage board and a pack of 

 cards at hand, and challenged me to a short rubber. He 

 was a capital player at crib, and as I considered myself 

 no slouch at the game, was confident I could keep him 

 down to my level. I cut and won deal and first game. 

 He scored the second, and the third and concluding- 

 game came to my side of the table. During our play old 

 curmudgeon looked on deeply interested, and once in a 

 while tried to prompt Ned to make a false play through 

 mere ignorance of the subtleties of the game. ' After we 

 had finished, he said he would like to try a game with 

 me. I acquiesced; cut for deal and won, and after the 

 cards had been shuffled and hands dealt, I turned quite 

 innocently to him and said: 



" What shall we make the stakes, one or five dollars?" 



" I am no gambler, sir." 



" Neither am I, only I wanted to make the play inter- 

 esting." 



"You didn't play for money with your partner." 

 "Indeed I did." 



And pulling out a memorandum book showed him a 

 tabular statement of the games I had played, which I 

 stated were for five dollars each, and which account we 

 settled at the termination of the trip. 



" Well, you cant't gamble with me ! " he emphatically 

 exclaimed. 



At this juncture, seeing one of our pitchers in the hands 

 of Joe, who was busy cooking, he insisted on my pouring 

 the milk into that, which I did, and then old curmudgeon 

 took the borrowed vessel and hastily departed, and never 

 again came to our camp, thinking doubtless that we were 

 of that order from which gamblers and bunco men came. 

 Ned told me after he had left that he was a large land 

 owner there, and that he did not belong to the cottage at 

 all where I had procured the milk, and that he was glad 

 I had bluffed Mm so decidedly, as he was not only ava- 

 ricious but very mean. 



The lighthouse keeper, bronzed and weather beaten , now 

 put in an appearance, and after a brief inquisitive conver- 

 sation inquired if we would like to purchase a few quarts 

 of strawberries. Who could resist the luxury of that 

 sweet and succulent berry of which Dr. Boetter said : 

 " Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but 

 doubtless God never did." We secured a few quarts, for 

 which we paid a price far below the market rate at the 

 " Soo." That lighthouse keeper had sized up our epicur- 

 ean appetites accurately and thereby profited. 



Dinner being announced we took position at the table 

 with keen appetites. Our bill of fare was not extensive; 

 but it was all a camper desired. 



" Dire was the clang of plates, of knife and fork, 

 That merciless fell, like tomahawks, to work." 



Everything was nicely cooked, and the tea especially 



delicious. Joe, who was chef de cuisine, evidently un- 

 derstood to a dot how to prepare the savory dishes. He 

 was a bonanza to us and relieved us of all the anxiety on 

 the subject, as we were in doubt when we started rela- 

 tive to his skill as cook. If there is anything in camp 

 that is an absolute misery it is poor cooking, for no mat- 

 ter how carnivorous you are, unless you are a cannibal 

 it will soon nauseate the stomach. 



After dinner Ned, who had filled his pipe and pre- 

 pared for a luxurious smoke, advised me to go down to 

 an old decaying pier at the river bank and ascertain if 

 the trout would entertain any proposition for sport. He 

 stated there were none but small ones there and that it 

 was impossible to get them to rise to a fly. Such, he 

 said, had been his experience on several occasions! I 

 agreed to go, but demurred to his idea of the use of bait. 

 He smiled at my refusal to take a small box of angle 

 worms which he had brought for this especial locality, 

 and was willing to wager a small sum that I couldn't 

 raise a trout with a fly in an hour. Off I eagerly 

 started in hopes of making the feathery lure secure the 

 desired trout, and at the same time teach him a lesson in 

 the gentle art. The pier was a treacherous pile of timber 

 in the last stages of decay, and nothing was left of it' 

 but its trembling frame-work and a few planks plaoed ; - 

 here and there in order to reach its outer edge. I got ? ' 

 position on the narrow timber outside and started 

 flies on a graceful sweep to the surface of the no. 

 stream. It required an effort to keep balanced on tb\ 

 uneven surface, and several times I came near throwing 

 myself into the stream instead of the flies. 



I kept this work up for over an hour, taking in the en- 

 tire length of the pier, and changing my flies every now 

 and then in hopes of securing a victim. I looked back at 

 Ned occasionally, and always saw the picture of dreary 

 indolence in the gentle angler as the clouds of smoke 

 from his pipe wreathed above his silvery locks. He was 

 watching as well as smiling at my efforts, and seemed 

 content with the situation. Being within hearing dis- 

 tance, he frequently interrogated me as to my success, as 

 much to perplex as aught else. He evidently didn!t de- 

 sire his prognostications to fail, and it seemed to me he 

 was perfectly secure in them, as I had about abandoned 

 all hope of getting a rise. My arm was severely taxed 

 from my strenuous efforts in casting, and I concluded to 

 cease from work and muse over the situation. Is it pos- 

 sible, I thought, that I have to lower my pride and resort 

 to the contemptible angleworm? It looked like desecra- 

 tion to toss a hook with a squirming bait into waters so 

 pure and clear, and that flowed so gently o'er sparkling 

 pebbles and golden sands. It was a fit abode for Neptune 

 and Aphrodite, or "the ga3 r creatures of the. elements 

 that in the colors of the rainbow live," and to soil its 

 purity with pot-hunting tactics and bait would mantle 

 with shameful blushes the cheeks of any true disciple of 

 the gentle craft. The tmut were there disporting, as I 

 could plainly see them; but they were determined not to 

 be caught with any kind of bunched feathers, no matter 

 how attractive or deftly thrown. They were everything 

 but foolish trout, if they were young, and seemed to 

 "know a hawk from a hernshaw," though their greedi- 

 ness for a worm brought them much trouble. At last I 

 became a desperate convert to Ned's theory, and as a 

 dernier resort and with head bowed, I went' to the boat 

 and like a thief sneaked out the little box of worms, and 

 then sneaking back, affixed a naked hook to the leader, 

 impaled a worm thereon, tossed it in the current, and in 

 a few minutes there was a vigorous bite and an 8-inch 

 trout landed, his neck broken, and then released from 

 the cruel hook. Ned all this time was watching my 

 movements and enjoying my confusion, and after I had 

 lauded another, he very deliberately put his rod together, 

 placed thereon his reek and, attaching leader and hook, 

 came to the pier, as he said, "to have a little fun with the 

 little trout with a little worm." 



He poked any amount of humor at me about my resort- 

 ing to bait, but, by way of consolation, said it would be 

 the only place we would desire to use it; and so it was, 

 for the fly thereafter was our sole dependence. It goes 

 hard to make a confession of ever using a bait in 

 Lake Superior, but like that immortal little boy with the 

 historic little hatchet I cannot tell a lie. I feel much 

 better alter this confession, and if, dear readers, you 

 have the patience to follow this scribble through you 

 will soon ascertain that we nobly redeemed ourselves 

 by remaining faithful ever after as true members of the 

 guild. 



We caught nine trout here, of which nine 'ran over 

 10in., and then discontinued fishing, satisfied that we 

 had enough for a good mess. While we were at the pier 

 two steam barges put in here to lay by till the wind 

 lulled some, as it was now blowing fiercely with a heavy 

 sea prevailing outside. 



Going back to camp we had another contest at crib, 

 and tiring of that took in the &urrou ridings by a tramp, 

 and then again sought the shady porch and watched the 

 white-plumed gulls as they flew o'er the waters, listened 

 to the tender music of the robins, the solemn note of the 

 white-throated sparrow and drank in the beauties of 

 the bright sunlight playing on rock and tree, waving 

 grass and flowing river. 



After Ave had partaken of supper, beds were carefully 

 prepared on balsam boughs and then the evening hours 

 at the camp-fire were enlivened with cheery songs and 

 entertaining stories of adventures in woods and on 

 waters. We planned to make Gros Gap Island next day, 

 where we expected some good angling. 

 Cincinnati. Alex Starbijck, 



A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed.— Coral ville, 

 Iowa. — I have been so gratified with the results of some 

 information obtained from the Forest and Stream, that, 

 for a long time I have desired to tell your readers about 

 it; but I have not been abie to undertake it, nor can I 

 now, though I hope at some time to do so, more partic- 

 ularly as articles of such merit as the one by which I 

 profited, should not be permitted to go unnoticed. I 

 would like to tell how in my efforts to restore a favorite 

 rod by substituting new ferrules for the old, which had 

 become worn, I utterly failed, after weeks of delay and 

 disappointment, in my frequent attempts to procure 

 ferrules of the proper size; and how, after all, under the 

 directions of your correspondent " Calif omian"— whose 

 article on ferrules in Forest and Stream of August 27, 

 1885, is I think, in many respects the best that I have 

 ever seen— I was enabled to restore the old ferrules to even 

 a better condition than then- original one.— J. G. D. 



