Sept. 8, 1893.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



207 



OUANANICHE AT CINQUIEME CHUTE. 



I DO NOT write of "once upon a time, a long time ago." 

 I have nothing to tell of an outing taken ten years ago; it 

 is of the present, the summer of '93. 



At Lake St, John a generous and beneficent spirit has 

 : ted a hostelry, whither tlie footsteps of all anglers 

 lid trend, and whence they may depart in quest of 

 I luintessence of angling. Truly may Hotel Roberval 

 {(led the G-oIden Gate, opening upon regions that are 

 ; .irently inexhaustible, and where disappointment 

 Jijj ks not as the final end of fond anticipation. 



Situated in the heart of the Lauren tian ranges, Lac St. 

 T':; II ii fed by rivers, the outlet of inland seas and great 

 . s, whose rusliing torrents are increased by melting 

 vs, bubbling springs and vernal floods; rushing 

 ^svd from the lake, these waters pour through the 

 lid D^charge, down the far-famed Saguenay, through 

 I ir 8fc. Lawrence, into the sea. 



I roin thpse riA-ers and the lakes, into which they broaden, 

 legends have drifted down (magnified by the favored 

 few who have sought him in his lair) tales of the ouan- 

 1^ he— of his superb courage, gamy ferocity and inde- 

 i .able agility. Romance and fable have not tint or 

 : [or enough to satisfy the imagination, to embellish the 

 t'llhs told by the guides, half-breeds and Indians around 

 Fuiiit Bleu and Chicoutimi, or while loitfring on the 

 . piav;za at Hotel Koberval, "O'esi taTilf,'' says GuUlaume 

 I Tremblay, "how he leaps from the water when he is 

 stabbed by the book; c'est iveroyahle, how the line runs 

 and runs; imbean cavof to go after him; an yros poiiison, 

 '■\m beau oucman'iche''—aTid language fails, as Guillaume 

 marks his length on the floor — on the paddle — or stretches 

 •Ma arms in the air. Calm and impassive Josef Simeon, 

 half-breed— is really all Indian, ancient Montagnais all 

 through, uatil he talks of ouananiche— Z?e«?< scmmon— 

 then his face is wreathed with smiles, his eyes brighten, 

 and the rigid, stern cast of countenance disappears. Con- 

 tempt and disdain for the ouananiche of the Grand Be- 

 charge are there expressed moat forcibly, but lead them 

 In t.iik of Cinqui'^me Chute de Mistassini or Lac Tshota- 

 la de Grande Peribonka, and what a panorama is de- 

 ; t d upon their stern and rugged countenance, Th is 

 ti ll the joy of battle with a worthy foe, that is all. You 

 would not then bear the ladies on tho piazza of Roberval 

 say, -'Do not trust him, I am afraid." 



Who is it who hath listened and has not had pulse and 

 heart quickened with intense desire to determine for 

 liiny-eit the grain of truth in these boastful tales. 



Who. being a lover of the Sabno aalar and having 

 aEecrt'd without fear of contradition, "I would rather 



JVUSTASSIJNI E.IVEK. 



kill a salmon than shoot a caribou," would tamely listen 

 to the declaration that a worthy rival of the Salmo solar 

 existed without a feeling of supreme, aye superb, con- 

 tempt that this boastful braggart could never have 

 stabbed and then played and killed the salmon! "If such 

 there be. go mark him well," thinks the patrician — this 

 post graduate in the quintessence of angler lore, "for the 

 conceit hath made him mad." 



Yet I think my salmon fishing incomplete, my sole 

 ideal pleasure unfinished, like soup without a dash of 

 cayenne, if I ended my summer outing without a cast 

 for this not unworthy and undegenerated scion of the 

 royal stock of Salmo solar, if such the learned have 

 declared him to be. Let those who may establish his 

 lineage as a worthy toss of his ashes, post cineres gloria 

 vemf. Lst those who will dispute bis right to the title ' 

 of salmon, for if salmon be derived from salire, to leap, 

 hail then the ouananiche — le petit saumon — the endear- 

 ing term of the Montagnais — for surely does his mad ; 

 rage in air and water bear testimony to his title to be 

 deemed saumon and nothing but saumon. 



This is no denizen of still and stagnant water, no pol- 

 troon of running waters, nursing his strength, in cow- | 

 ardly ambush, lying in wait beneath lily pads, or lurking \ 

 in weeds, for the victim to pass upon which he will ruth- 

 lessly prey; no savage monster patterned after crocodile, 

 with cruel fangs filling a gavial muzzle to devour his 

 victim who. once impaled upon bait or spoon, cowardly 

 comes to strand or canoe like some great bully called to 

 stand by pure jjluck and not physique. No, the ouan- 

 aniche fights as if he would pluck forth the weapon that 

 stabbed him and with it turn and attack his assailant. 

 LTp in the air six or seven times, shaking his head to expel 

 the hook, high and low, with wit and cunning, tugging at 

 the line deep under water until you fairly feel the barb 

 tear the flesh at the end, rising to the surface and thrash- 

 ing the water until the line is one inextricable tangle — 

 so goes the battle on. Let no one relax his vigilance or 

 abate one jot of efi:ort until the ouananiche be suspended 

 on the balance, or else a deep-drawn breath and — a great 

 struggle with yourself attest the ignominious end. 



This foe lives in the rushing floods, under falls where 

 the rainbow forever gleams in the sun, amid eddies cir- 

 cling down the foaming tide — where in the whirl of 

 tumultuovis waters current neutralizes current, and there 

 encircled by a ring of tui-bulent waves the pool forms; 

 there with muscles always in motion turning into pliant 

 steel and keenly, nay at all times, vigilant and alert, 



never at rest, does the ouananiche get form, color, 

 strength and courage. Flashing through the foam, 

 through the seething waters as they tumultuously pour 

 down rocky gorge and pass, over precipitous falls — leap- 

 ing high up the fall and ascending against its mighty 

 power — there the "Survival of the Fittest" working to 

 perfect end (in Natm-al Selection), the ouananiche gets 

 his superb development of form and muscle, with the 

 gift of indomitable courage. 



As the salmon fisherman kills the salmon weighing 

 from sixteen to fifteen pounds with a 2G-ounce rod and 



OW THE MISTASSiNI. 



dainty flies, so I make war on le petit saumon weigh- 

 ing from three to eight pounds, with rods weighing from 

 four and one-half to seven ounces, and use the same 

 dainty flies, only smaller — Jock-Scott, silver-doctor, Dur- 

 ham-ranger, cock-robin, etc. Yet do they again and 

 again fail to tempt his capricious appetite, for his fancy 

 is fickle and vacUlating, worn to satiety like some old 

 gourmet. 



Uown the west coast of Newfoundland— all the way 

 from Labrador— intent only on reaching the Cinquieme 

 Chute of the Mistassini, I spf d to get my ouananiche 

 fishing. Reaching the Hotel Roberval at five o'clock, I 

 learned from that friend of all fishermen, that superb 

 host, T. Kenna, Esq., that my telegram had been obeyed 

 —guides secured and provisions packed ready for me to 

 go that night, if nece-sary. 



It was on this journey that, in conversation, a well- 

 known salmon fisherman remarked to me: "After one has 

 killed salmon, the only othpr pleasure that remains is to 

 collect his literature, the "Bibliophile Salmonis." 



It was better to dine, and "sleep, perchance to dream," 

 and start at daybreak for a long and arduous day's work 

 and get the fishing surely the following day. 



Up the Mistassini to the Cinquieme Chute, which I 

 reached with a knot in my throat as I found myself the 

 only fisherman there. I camped in the same old place, 

 on the island, upon either side of which the great river 

 rushes down in falls of magnificent grandeur, covered 

 with trees, giving protecting shelter from storm , and cre- 

 ating cool and pleasant shadows in the day, where the 

 roar of the falls is never hushed, as the river, falling full 

 thirty feet over the precipitous chutes, flows on to the 

 sea. Here the song of the bird, undisturbed by the sound 

 of the gun, comes vibrating through the hoarse roar of 

 ths falls like the soaring cadenza of the prima donna 

 over the sonorous sweep of the orchestra. Upon a bed of 

 dried balsam, the accumulation of unnumbered years, 

 with a layer of fresh plumes, soothed by the music of the 

 sough of the wind through the trees, one sleeps on down 

 that makes mockery of feather or fur. 



At the Cinquieme Chute I have seen the ouananiche, 

 on his way up to Lac a Jim, leap full ten feet against the 

 face of the falls, and with scarce a perceptible pause 

 again leap as high, reaching the top of the chute and 

 falling into the mirrory slide of the water be swept over 

 the falls before he could get his head up stream and his 

 mig>ity tail going like the screw of an ocean liner. 



"C'est ferH6'." says Guillaume, Mordant la chute en 

 route a Lom d Jim,'' and, I hunger to have the jumper on 



f 



% i. ■ 



LAC TSHOTAGAMA, 



the end of my line on the little 4-ioz. "Wood'" (lance wood) 

 rod, which again and again I loaned the Lady Cecilia 

 Rose to land 4- pound ouananiche at the Fifth Falls. 



Fly after fly cast upon the waters, dark and sober-hued 

 in sunshine, fascinating and bright in clouded skies, flit- 

 ting on the foam, swimming through the flood, leaping 

 over the ripples, from sunrise to sunset, proved "that all 

 is vanity," until twilight found me weary a^nd disgusted, 

 only then to learn the woi'th of the white beauty of the 

 Parmachenerbelle aa she whirled out of the whiter foam 



into the darker, troubled water of the eddies. Then only 

 for one brief instant I saw the fly, for out f f the eddy a 

 dark form arose, and amid a scream of the reel the fly 

 disappeared and the frail silken line ran into the wildest 

 foam of the rushing waters. 



I have seen the leader come back with the flies, ex- 

 pressly tied for this fishing, torn from the snells. I have 

 taken the best 9-foot salmon leader and looped a small 

 salmon fly on each end (a whitewing-admiral and Par- 

 machene-belle), and tying the leader so that the stretcher 

 would have a flow of about 3ft. , work the rod as if fish- 

 ing for salmon, seen the ouananiche as if shot from a 

 catapult, flash inthe air fuU 7ft. high, as the dip of the 

 rod stabbed the fish, and then disappear in the foam; and 

 then seen on this same cast of flies, the rushing of the 

 line arrested and neutralized as the stretcher fly was 

 taken, a,nd two fish simultaneously rise in the air and the 

 line come back to me, leader and flies gone. 



Again and again I gave Guillaume the 6oz. "Wells" 

 (split bamboo) rod, bent like a coach whip cruelly wind- 

 , ing its lash under the maddened horse, while I tried upon 

 i my camera to get the frantic leap of the impaled fish: but 

 ' never could I get a snap shot in the few instances when 

 the dual leap of the two fish snapped the salmon leader 

 like a thread. 



Standing on a rock around which the foam seethed and 

 whirled, admid a rain of mist (and to reach which I had 

 to clamber like a goat), I stabbed ouananiche after ouan- 

 aniche only to lose fly after fly, and in one day lost three 

 salmon leader's and eighteen flies. 



Say, how worthy must these foemen of 31bs. be who 

 can thus break salmon leaders? Ask Tom Conroy who 

 smiles blandly, but as urbanely denies that the leader had 

 any possible defect! Guillaume's exclamation is better— 

 "C'est ineroyable." 



Amid many exclarr>ations, '^Cest ime belle ouananiche! " 

 ''Cest un beau saumon!''' I had been returning the fish 

 which I thought would survive the battle to the river, 

 and on the evening of the third day I saw the guides en- 

 gaged in earnest consultation around the camp-fire. It 

 was evidently something serious which was being dis- 

 cussed with great gravity, but the hot water to remove 

 the pennyroyal and tar from face and hands was getting 

 cold, and so washing myself, I ^ave up my curiosity and 

 dropping the mosquito canopy, turned in. 



I know not when the camp-fires were carefully ex- 

 tinguished and thfi bowl of lime water was placed in the 

 tent, but at 5 o'clock the nf^xt morning, "Fechani, 

 M'sieur," and Guillaume's voice awoke me from my 

 slumber. ^^Oui, Gh.dUaume, eanotpas—d la gros roehe." 



DINNER ON THE aRAND PERIBONKA. 



' -Bien, Msieur" — and we went to try the sport before the 

 sun got too high. 



It was a 4Ib3. ouananiche that gave Guillaume his op- 

 portunity. He held the fish upon the balance for me to 

 take the weight, and as the index marked the familiar 

 ru'es, I pointed to the water, to put the fish back. 

 "H'sieiir," began Guillaume, in deep and earnest tones, 

 Guillaume, chief among voyageurs, tireless in the canoe 

 and on portage; always happy, aye, and able to net or gaff 

 the salmon — no soul-exasperating slip of steel or net, no 

 error of judgment when to strike — most willing and 

 never lingering over meals when M'sieur" war ted to go 

 fishing — Guillaume's tones gravely went on: "Uoits ^tes 

 un beau pecheiir. Voire plaisir d prendre V ouananiche. 

 jSous avons le gro.^ poisson assez pour le camp et pour 

 manger. Don'rez vous les j)oissons pour notres families." 

 As he paused I said, "Tr^s bien, ils ont d voire disposi- 

 tion." There were no thanks uttered; it was the one 

 bend of the head with wild grace that showed apprecia- 

 tion, and never had I the slightest cause for complaints. 



I cannot tell how many ouananiche I stabbed, played and 

 lost. In nine days I landed 145 fish weighing from 3 to 

 4llbs. Numberless instances did I time myself, the in- 

 terval between stabbing and landing the fish, and it was 

 never less than 15 minutes, and often 45 minutes before 

 the gamy antagonist was conquered. 



It was a great trip, a fine camp, splendid provisions, 

 superb sport, faultless guides, grand weather. It makes 

 the heart too full for utterance to recall such an ideal 

 trip. 



If any reader of this should be one of the great party 

 upon the piazza of Hotel Roberval when I returned with 

 24 ouananiche weighing from 3 to 4^1bs. caught the day 

 before, and 47 ouananiche of like weight salted in a birch 

 bark box, and heard Mr. Beemer ask, "What luck — show 

 up!" he will bear witness to the admiration excited by the 

 spectacle of the salmon stretched upon the piazza before 

 admiring, nay covetous eyes. With difficulty I got away 

 to get a tub and supper, and it was midnight when, with 

 voice so hoarse I could scarce whisper, that I got to bed, 

 so many had questions to propound as to the whereabouts 

 of the Eden wherein I had revelled — the flies, etc. 



Guillaume Tremblay, Josef Simeon and Josef Robinson, 

 I dofl: my hat to "les gros guides" and revel in the thought 

 that I have engaged you for 1893 and, Deovolenite, we will 

 have a great time. Rowdy Rod. 



[The illustrations are from amateur photographs by 

 the author,] 



I 



