July 7, 1892.] 



that his intentions were good, and that from the outset 

 he wanted to do the very best he could for its, and did; 

 but his judgment about the requisites for a good camp- 

 ing place was badJy warped, in the case of this desolate 

 knoll at least. 



Educated Trout. 

 A few rods further on, he led the way down the hill 

 and through a narrow strip of cedars and willows that 

 had escaped the fire, and we were at the fountain head of 

 the trout stream, a mast remarkable spring of exceed- 

 ingly cold water, and so clear that it looked as transpar- 

 ent as a drop of dew. The water seemed to come from 

 some where under the hill, up from under the roots of 

 some cedars at the head of a basin 50 or fiOEt. across, that 

 looked to be 8 or 10ft. deep, but it was no doubt deeper in 

 place?, for the water was so very clear that it was hard to 

 judge the depth. There were few j)laces in it clear of 

 fallen trees and old logs, some of which looked to have 

 lain there a hundred years. Their roots bad lost tbeir 

 grip in the loose swampy soil bordering the basin, and 

 they had fallen across it from nearly every point of the 

 compass, filling the jiool with a ma/.e of tree trunks large 

 and small— a wilderness of spikes and leafless limbs that 

 looked almost too intricate for a trout to make bis way 

 through. 



But there were trout there as we saw; but they were so 

 wary and shy that the slightest move of a bush, or the 

 least quiver of a half submerged tree trunk caused them 

 to dare into biding among tbe spikes and limbs. Their 

 shyness was in a measure accounted for. however, by the 

 dozen or more old and freshly cut fish poles lying around, 

 which had been used by Tom, Dick and Harry when 

 they "went a troutin' to the big spring," which Aleck 

 said was almost a daily occurrence, so that hardly a day 

 in the week did the pool get a full rest. 



Jim and Aleck selected a pole each from the assort- 

 ment, and my pocket "calamity box" completed the out- 

 fit. Then from the bait box strapped around my waist 

 the "inducements" were produced, and we went carefully 

 to tbe work of furnishing the boys a trout supper. Jim 

 and Aleck worked around to the further side, while I 

 mounted the fallen tiunk of a good sized hemlock, reach- 

 ing nearly across the pool, and stepped gingerly and 

 cautiously out on it a few feet, where I could reach and 

 drop the baited hook alongside the nearly submerged 

 trunk, where there was a space of a yard or two clear of 

 limbs. 



Instantly three good sized trout flashed out from uuder 

 the body of the tree and out of sight in the tangls over in 

 the direction of Jim and Aleck. A minute or two after 

 Aleck from his log yanked out an 8in, trout, may be one 

 of the three I had scared over to him : and before Jim or 

 I got a nibble — albeit we were expecting one every quar- 

 ter of a second — he hoisted out another, a little larger 

 than the first, this time undoubtedly one of my two. 



In the next ten minutes he didn't get another, neither 

 did Jim or I, which was a trifle discouraging to us. I 

 moved down to another log, and after a few minutes 

 quiet fishing flipped out a fingerling, which was tossed 

 back in the water, to be yanked out next day, it might 

 be, and "counted" by some hoodlum who had no respect 

 for the trout law nor peradventure any other. The little 

 fellow was under the limit of 6in., which I could tell to 

 a nicety by the width of my hand, including the extended 

 thumb. 



Just as Aleck missed another one, the third probably of 

 my trio, Jim lifted one out from among the limbs and ex- 

 ulted, for it was a little bigger than Aleck's best one, 

 Not to be left, I got a nibble and missed, but at the next 

 cast I swung one out over the edge of the bank, where he 

 dropped ofl^ the hook, and with two flops was back in his 

 native element and out of sight under a sunken log, 

 wondering no doubt what had hit him. This one was 

 even smaller than my first, at which I rejoiced and 

 changed logs for one further down toward the outlet. 



Meeting with no success on this log, I went on down 

 near to the outlet, a matter of five or six rods from where 

 I first made a cast, or rather drop, and finding just as good 

 fishing there as at the last log, I concluded to fish along 

 down the stream to the boat, leaving Jim and Aleck to 

 follow at their will. 



After leaving the basin of the spring the stream had a 

 width of 8 or 10ft. for most of its length, with water 

 enough flowing in it to run an average country sawmill. 



This was the "beautiful spring and trout stream near 

 by," and in truth it was a most wonderful spring, but to 

 see it was hardlv worth the trouble of getting to it, at 

 least not more than once. 



A hundred yards or more down the stream I came to a 

 place where it spread out to a width of about 10yds, for 

 30yds, or more, and here I caught one trout of 9in., and 

 lost another of about the same size by getting foul in some 

 roots. 



Soon after Jim and Aleck came meandering down on 

 the other side, and stopping near the head of the widen- 

 ing took out three or four good trout in a few minutes: 

 and it occurred to me, after a thoughtful survey of the 

 surroundings, that I was on the wrong side of the stream 

 — ^the "left" side, as it were, 



I moved down to where the stream narrowed again, 

 falling over a couple of logs on the way, on account of a 

 hitch in the working gear of my starboard knee joint, and 

 caught a small trout that I figured out was astonished 

 twice. First, at the uncermonious manner in which he 

 was persuaded to leave the water, and second, that he 

 escaped with his life, by being thrown back in the stream. 



I went on down, over logs and through the tangle, 

 fishing a little here and there — which resulted in one more 

 trout that crowded the limit, but I kept him — till at last 

 I came out on the beach at the mouth of the stream , 

 tired, hot and chock full of a feeling of "general cussed- 

 ness" and disappointment. It wasn't a good day for trout; 

 I made up my mind to that, or I had lost my canning, 

 which amounted to the same thing as far as my catch 

 was concerned, 



I went back over the ground in my mind. I had seen 

 a dozen or more trout on the way down from the widen- 

 ing, but they were wilder than bucks and stood not on 

 the impulse of going, but got. I had caught five measly 

 trout, two only of which were above the lawful length 

 of Gin. — which law is a farce and dead letter, because 

 eight in ten pay not the slightest regard to it. I had 

 barked both shins and carried away on my clothes a 

 goodly portion of the black off numerous charred tree 

 trunks and logs that infested the way, I had scattered 

 along the route a good many new cuss words, some plain 



and some with "scroll work on 'em," that were wasted 

 on the desert air. I had fished in the "beautiful spring 

 and stream" and 1 struck a balance and called it square. 

 I had enough. 



Cedar Root Meditations, 



1 sat down on a cedar root near the boat and cogitated 

 on the day's experiences in general and on the "onsar- 

 tinty o" trout fishin' as a satisfyin' pastime," and waited 

 for Jim and Aleck to come. I was hungry and got out 

 the lunch (for one), and dividing it in three equal por- 

 tions ate my shai'e and felt in a better frame of mind ; 

 in fact, I felt so much better that I involuntarily whis- 

 tled the first eight measures of "Gtittin' out o' the Wilder- 

 ness" with such moving effect on the audienop — a de- 

 jected looking kingfisher perched on a dead limb a few 

 rods up shore and a couple of little teeter snipe bobbing 

 and bowing along the beach and dodging the incoming 

 rollers— that I felt called on to repeat it, with the chorus 

 hitched on. Then 1 wished Barney had put up a heap 

 bigger lunch, and waited some more for Jim and Aleck. 



If any brother reading tlus has at some time sat wait- 

 ing on a root or log, wondering what in the name of "old 

 scratch" was keeping a comrade loitering and fooling 

 away time along a stream that he had just fished over 

 himself with poor results, he will understand the situa- 

 tion and maybe not blame me too much for the few re- 

 marks I made, some of them bordering oh the profane. 



After waiting two solid hoiu-s— it seemed so long, at 

 least — the bushes parted near the boat and the two lag- 

 gards stepped out on the beach with fourteen good-sized 

 trout strung on a forked twig: and tlien it was yjlainer 

 than ever that I had been fishing the wrong side of the 

 spring and stream, a lame excuse, doubtless, but it was 

 the beat I could think of at the time, 



They finished the remainder of the lunch in short order; 

 and we got ready to launch the ironclad and try our 

 luck again with the bass. This was not quite as easy 

 as "fallin' off a log," for the wind was stronger and the 

 lake even rougher than when we landed; but we placed 

 the minnow bucket, trout and rods in the boat, and pick- 

 ing it up by the gunwales shoved it into the surf bows 

 on, where I held it steady, keeping the sternpost from 

 pounding on the beach till Jim and Aleck got in and 

 shipped both pair of oars; and then as they let fall I 

 rolled into the stern somehow with wet feet, and we 

 were afloat again without a mishap. When four or five 

 rods out we turned up shore and followed it around with 

 the wind first abeam, but as we held a course correspond- 

 ing to the curve of the shore line at the lower end of the 

 lake we were soon pulling straight in the wind's eye. We 

 found this to be the boat's woi'st point, but it was so buoy- 

 ant that only once in a while would a bigger wave than 

 usual dash a pint or so of water and spray in over the 

 low bow, which was readily "sopped up" with a big 

 sponge and squeezad out over the side. 



Had the lake been much rougher we doubtless would 

 have swamped and had to swim for it, but the little can- 

 vas shell climbed the waves like a water snake, without 

 the least roll, and we felt as easy in her as though seated 

 in the Traverse City boat with her high sides and o4:tn. 

 beam. I was much pleased with the performance and 

 seagoing qualities of the ironclad, and would not have 

 swapped her for the best corner lot in Interlochen; how- 

 ever, even with Jim and Aleck each pulling a pair of 

 oars we made little headway against the wind and sea, 

 but we were in no hurry, for we were "goin' slow fur a 

 bass." 



I had hooked on a good lively shiner soon after leav- 

 ing the mouth of the trout stream, and as I have found 

 that the bass of these northern lakes usually bite better 

 when the wind is blowing hard and the water is rough 

 than when there is no wind and a smooth sea, I was look- 

 ing every moment to feel the spool of the reel make a few 

 rapid turns under my thumb from the "strike'* of some 

 bronzed warrior of the tribe; but as we had worked over 

 a mile or more of fairly good water without a note from 

 the click, it began to look as if all the signs were turned 

 upside down, and the bass of Green Lake were not to be 

 fooled by white caps, wind, or anything else as far as 

 we were concerned, 



We began to feel a trifle discouraged, but kept on up 

 along the shore to the point, where Aleck felt tolerably 

 certain we would get a bite or two, as that point was, he 

 said, the best bass grounds in the lake. The water here 

 was not nearly so rough as below, as the shore, looking 

 toward Interlochen, a fl'orded a partial shelter from the 

 wind, and we fished quietly and carefully around the 

 point and back, and then off it for SOyds. , and right at the 

 point for nearly an hour altogether, but not a click of the 

 reel greeted our expectant ears from strike of bass, 

 pickerel or other fish. 



Green Lake Voted a Fraud. 



It was a backset of large proportions, and Aleck was 

 busy most of the time inventing reasons and excuses for 

 the poor fishing, or rather the lack of fishing around the 

 best point in the lake for bass. At last even he gave it 

 up as a waste of time and we pulled around the point and 

 up to the rush-grown bar where the boys had done their 

 first fishing the day before. We found most excellent 

 looking bass Water all around it. but with the most care- 

 ful and painstaking work we were not rewarded with 

 even the sign of the existence of bass, pickerel, or 

 "muskylong," and as the sun was getting weU down 

 below the treetops, we struck across to camp, about as 

 completely disgruntled over the day's experience as it 

 was possible to be, and I was ready to wager the old rod 

 against a dead minnow that there were not bass enough 

 in the whole lake to make a good smell in a fryin' pan. 



The boys had rowed for me carefully and patiently over 

 not less than eight miles of water; I had fished with dili- 

 gence and understanding, knowing in a general way by 

 the "signs in the water" where would likely be the feed- 

 ing and loafing places of the bass and pickerel, but the 

 experience of years had availed not; all the signs meant 

 nothing. I had started out in the morning gay as a, 

 meadow lark and filled with hope of a day of good sport, 

 and I was returning in the evening without strike from 

 fish of any kind (leaving out the five measly trout), wilted 

 and humbled and bowed down with disappointment and 

 a sense of utter " wuthlessness." Green Lake was a bar- 

 ren fraud, to the best of my knowledge and belief. 



We climbed the bank up to the camp wearily and with 

 drooping chins— hke olp Sam's the evening before— with 

 our tails between our legs (which may be taken as a 

 "figger o' speech"), tired from sitting go long cramped up 

 in the boat and hungry as pickerel (no reference being 

 intended to the pickerel of Green Lake.) 



While Barney dressed the trout and got sxipper under 

 way, we talked the situation over and swapped lies about 

 the happenings of the day with the other boys, who had 

 pulled in an hour or two ahead of us. When we saw 

 them in the forenoon they had been down to the foot of 

 the lake looking for the mouth of the trout stream, but 

 not finding it they had fished back, and finished up the 

 day round the upper end nearer camp, where the wind 

 was not so bad nor the water as rough as below. 



Their experience had been the same as ours with the 

 bass and pickerel ; not a bite or an indication of one the 

 whole day, but they had brought in another lot of blue- 

 gills and goggle-eyes, as Sam said, "to pervide agin an- 

 other contingency, fur I don't believe there's a hass or 

 snake in the whole confounded no 'count pond." 



Old Sam was depressed in spirit, and sore over nearly 

 two days of fruitless fishing; and the rest of us were much 

 in the same frame of mind ; but Barney put us in better 

 humor by serving up an excellent supper, of which the 

 sixteen trout formed a toothsome part; and it may be 

 noted that the bones left from the entire lot would " not 

 have filled a pocket match-box. 



We built a big camp-fire near the edge of the bank; 

 and sat around it till a late hour, smoking and consoling: 

 ourselves with tales of old camps — always a fruitful mine 

 of reminiscences and fish lore — and discussing the advis- 

 ability of moving to some other lake where better fishing, 

 certainly no worse, could be found. It was agreed that 

 should no bass be taken next day we would break camp 

 and go to some other locality, but it was not to be decided 

 where till the next c imp-fire conference the following 



night. KiNGFISHEE. 



THE CAMP KEEPER. Adirondacks. 



Drawn by J. B. Burnham. 



