870 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
[May 9, 1896'. 
ZEKIEL'S REMEDY. 
Did you ever feel onsatisfied? A kind o' lurkin' fear 
Like nothtn' 1 wa'n't a-goin' right upon this mundane sphere? 
When everybody's craps and things seemed better than your owd, 
And every breath of air that blew seemed laden with a groan; 
When your wife looked kinder humbly, and the children Beemed to be 
The ornierest set of young uns that ever you did see? 
Then it's time to go a flshin'; get out your rod and reel, 
And rough it in the woods awhile, and then see how you'll feel. 
You'll find that nothin' else will blow the cobwebs from your brain 
Like kinder restin' up a spell, f ergettin' loss and gain. 
Or maybe you like huntin'; then gather up your gun, 
Throw all thoughts of care away, and jest go out fer fun; 
Fill up yure shells with No. 7, and don't furgit yure pipe; 
Kiss the young uns all good-by, and make a sneak fur snipe. 
It may be luck's ag'in' you, and you won't git nary one; 
But blue devils won't pursue a man who has his rod and gun. 
You'll see the trees a-wavin', and see the waters glint, 
You'll tramp upon the daisies, and smell the peppermint. 
And when the day is over, and you come to camp at night, 
You'll wonder how you ever got such amazin' appetite. 
The next day is the same again. You fish in lake or stream ; 
You hear the ducks a-quackin', or you hear the eagle scream, 
You hear the squirrel barkin', as he jumps from tree to tree, 
And you try to sneak up on him in a hunter's ecstasy. 
Way over in another field you hear the cry "Bob White!" 
The world seems full of glory; the sun shines out so bright 
That you wonder why you had the blues, and what a fool you've been. 
This change is wrought by inhalin' of nature's medicine. 
And when you git back to your home your wife looks mighty fine, 
You think, "I never seed any children that seems to ekel mine." 
The craps has been a-growin', will turn out well, you guess, 
And your soul goes out in gratitude and quiet thankfulness. 
Cincinnati, O., April 18.— Editor Forest and Stream: You ask for 
the address of the author of ''Zekiel's Remedy." If it is a crime, let 
me off as lightly as possible, on the plea that I am not an old offender. 
I had just returned from a hunting trip in the wilds of North Caro- 
lina, and when I got home everything looked so attractive that I was 
disposed to contrast my lot with those less fortunate than myself, 
rather than with the many who have so much more. In a moment of 
weakness, like Silas Wegg, I "dropped into poetry." Now, however 
faulty the rhyme or the meter, I claim the sentiment is all right. 
There is no medicine like the woods for mind or body. I am a busy 
man, but always contrive for a week or two each year for fishing or 
hunting, and never fail to come home refreshed in health and spirits. 
Next to actual experience comes the reading in Forest and Stream 
what others have done or are doing. Th°re is no other publication so 
welcome to my home. As long as I can spare the subscription price, 
keep sending it to my address. Chahl.es R. Hubbard. 
UP THE ST. MAURICE RIVER TO 
WAYAGAMACK LAKE. 
Sitting in the library of a house in Montreal (the house 
occupied by the late Jefferson Davis during his residence 
in Canada) smoking an after-dinner cigar, my host asked 
me how large I had known the common brook trout to 
grow. The dinner had been good, the cigars were good, 
the surroundings were most charming and soothing, and 
I was prepared to hear of a big trout when I had told my 
story and my host came to having his say, for his manner 
indicated that he was loaded, and I did not much care 
how big it was, I was prepared to accept it. I said that 
the largest brook trout, Salvelinus fontinalis, of which I 
had knowledge was a fish of 121bs. which was netted in 
Maine by the Fish Commission men when netting blue- 
back trout at the junction of Rangeley and Kenebago 
streams. I saw a look of relief in my friend's face as I 
named the weight, and I thought to paralyze him by add- 
ing — but I believe there was a trout of this species caught 
by the Indians in the Nipigon River and certified to by the 
Hudson Bay Co.'s factor as weighing 161bs. and a frac- 
tion. Anyway, this is as I recall what Charles Hallock 
has said of the fish. 
"What would you say to a trout of 201bs.?" 
"I would say it was a good thing; and should be culti- 
vated." 
"But a brook trout of 201bs. weight has been taken." 
"Great Scott! "Where? And where are the documents 
in the case?" 
"It was caught in Wayagamack Lake, and I have the 
documents, as you call them, in my possession." 
"Where is Wayagamack Lake, and how do you get to 
it? Is it public or private water, and do you happen to 
know if there are any of those 20-pounders left to be 
caught by a fisherman of the present day if he is seem- 
ingly willing to risk his eternal salvation by telling of it 
afterward?" 6 
"Do not shoot all the charges in your magazine at one 
time, but take a fresh cigar arid let me talk a few minutes 
and I wi 1 fill you reasonably full of information on the 
subject you ask about. In the first place Lake Wayaga- 
mack is one of the lakes of the St. Maurice Club, of which 
I am the president. To reach it take the Canadian Pacific 
R. R. from Montreal to Three Rivers, change to a branch 
of the same road and go to Grande Piles, and there take 
a steamer and go up the St. Maurice River about seventy 
miles, nearly to La Tuque, and make a portage of eight 
miles to Lake Wayagamack, on which the club house is 
situated. As to the big brook trout it was caught by Mr. 
Colin Campbell, of the New York & New England R. 
R,, now living p. Boston, but formerly living in Quebec. 
Mr. Campbell caught the trout through the ice long before 
the lake and adjoining territory came into the possession 
of the St. Maurice Club. He packed the fish in snow and 
took it to Quebec, where it was exhibited, and afterward 
his brother-in-law, Sir Alfred Jephson, put it in the ice 
box of an Atlantic steamer and took it to England, where 
it was also exhibited." 
' 'But are you sure it was a speckled trout (Salvelinus fon- 
Unalis) and not a lake trout (Namaycush) or togue, as you 
call them up here?" 
"I expected that would be your next question, and here 
is a letter from Mr. Campbell, dated Aug. 5, 1895, in which 
he says there can be no doubt about the specie3, as there 
are nothing but speckled or brook trout in the lake, and 
that he has caught many 10 and 121b. fish of this species 
from the lake. The thing to do, however, is for you to go 
there and see the lake and fish it for your own satisfaction 
and edification, and I will make up a party and we will 
start in two weeks from this time," 
The conversation I have narrated was the incentive f or 
my trip to Lake Wayagamack, in the Province of Quebec, 
Canada. About Sept. 1, or to be precise Aug. 31, Mr. W. 
F, Rathbone, attorney for the D. & H, R. Restarted from 
Albany on the Montreal sleeper, and I joined him at a 
point on the main line of the road, and the next morning 
we were in Montreal. Dr. Wm. H. Drummond, president 
of the St. Maurice Club, had arranged everything for the 
proposed trip, and we really had nothing to do in Mon- 
treal but visit and wait for the next day to come. 
Dr. Drummond, Col. J. B. MacL9an and Mr. F. W. G. 
Johnson composed the Montreal contingent, and on Mon- 
day morning, Sept. 2. we got a good start; but trouble 
began before we had gone fifty miles. I had some money 
in my pocket when I started, but a few miles out I dis- 
covered that I had neither money nor pocketbook when I 
wished to pay for a pool I had bought on the weight of 
the largest trout that would be caught. We had the 
smoking compartment of the parlor car to ourselves and 
I knew the money was in the compartment, and it did not 
much matter where. Dr. Drummond had retained a box 
of cigars out of the stores to smoke en route, and when he 
opened the box it was filled with Montreal newspapers; 
and later the cigars were found stuffed into the pockets of 
my overcoat hanging on a hook. The loss of cigars was a 
serious matter, more so than the loss of money, for money 
would not buy cigars where we were going, and a drum- 
head court martial was ordered at once. It was clearly 
proven that my overcoat belonged to Col. MacLean, that 
the cigars were of poor quality, made from habitan to- 
bacco, and really belonged to Givadam Johnson, and that 
the Doctor had made a bluff with an empty box with an 
importer's stamp on it, and he was fined a bottle of Radnor 
water and recommended to the mercy of the court. Ex- 
cept that Rathbone was a lawyer I think the Doctor might 
have been hung for having had bis cigars stolen. At Three 
RiversweleftthemainlineoftheCanadianPacificR R, for 
a branch road which terminates at Grand Piles on the 
St. Maurice River. On the branch road at Radnor, the 
home of the Radnor Spring water, we were joined by Mr. 
John Drummond, who was to act as chaperon for the 
party until he had turned us loose in the woods. At 
Grand Piles I was chiefly impressed with the fact that 
my rubber overcoat weighed about 2001bs., as the pocket3 
were loaded with coal, the sleeves with kindling wood, 
safely pinned in, and that the body of the coat surrounded 
an infant saw log. At this point I may say, in simple 
justice, that during our outing I never found Col. Mac- 
Lean with a cavil that did not belong to him, and that I 
never found any other member of the party with any- 
thing whatever that did belong to him, except his 
features, until we got back to what is politely termed 
civilization. Upon crossing the river at Grand Piles the 
portage begins which leads to the Laurentian Club. Mr. 
Parker, president of the club, had sent guides and canoes 
to meet us, and they were awaiting our arrival to go up 
river with us. Two young gentlemen, Mr. Boyer, of 
Montreal, and Mr. Charles M. Taintor, Jr., of New York, 
with their guides, had also come over from the Lauren- 
tian Club to go with us to the St. Maurice Club house, to 
start on an exploring trip among the little known lakes 
and rivers of the latter club. 
At Grand Piles we were to commence our journey of 
seventy miles up the St. Maurice River in a new steamer, 
the Voyageur. This steamer was built to take club 
members and their guests and baggage nearly to their 
destination. She was 68ft. long, with steel hull, sheathed 
with rock elm for protection against possible rocks, and 
fitted with state-rooms, cooking galley, etc., so that 
unless one was pressed for time it mattered little whether 
one reached the portage near La Tuque on one day or 
another. Secretly I wondered why the steamer was pro- 
vided with such a powerful engine as I found in her hold, 
but I found out at the first rapids without asking 
any questions. This was to be her first-trip up the 
river, and as we had a new guardian for the club prop- 
erty, a cook and belongings, furnishing for the club, and 
stores to load, it was nearly dark before we started. 
When we did start, however, the boat was arranged like a 
bridegroom for a wedding, and the town turned out to see 
us off. The British flag, the American flag, the French 
flag and the steamer's flag were flying from various parts 
of the boat, and the steam whistle answered salutes from 
the shore until I thought we were wasting precious motive 
power. The machinery being new, it was thought best 
to run slowly and tie up for the night when darkness had 
fallen. Our trip up the river was one continuous ovation 
from the settlers on the banks. When we came in sight 
of the first cabin, perched high up above the river on the 
mountain constituting the bank of the river, and a girl 
rushed madly out of the door with something in her hand 
— which afterward proved to be a French flag—and pulled 
it to the top of an exaggerated barber's pole near by, at 
the same time a man ran from the field at the side of the 
cabin and entered the door only to reappear with a gun, 
with which he fired a salute of welcome, which the steam- 
er's whistle answered as the passengers swung their hats, 
I thought it was something the Doctor had arranged for 
his guests; but every blessed cabin along the river had a 
barber's pole in front of it, and every cabin contained a 
French or British flag, which was run up at our approach 
(the British flag was quite as apt to be upside down as 
right side up, and the French flag was sometimes the flag 
of the Netherlands and sometimes nothing but a flag), 
and a gun or two or three, which were fired again and 
again in welcome. I could not understand why each 
cabin should support a flagstaff, nor why each flagstaff 
should be striped like a barber's pole or "singed, 
streaked and speckled," until I was told that 
some years before, upon the death of a bishop of 
the dominant church on the south side of the St. Law- 
rence River, the people of the diocese were urged to 
show respect for the good man's memory by placing flags 
at half mast. Those who had no flags procured or made 
them, and the forests furnished the masts, and associa- 
tion with the Indians and their totem poles furnished the 
stripes of colors, and thus the idea spread until the habi- 
tans way up the River St. Maurice, north of the St. Law- 
rence, acquired the flag-pole habit, and a very agreeable 
habit it is. Tuesday morning, Sept. 3, the steamer 
started up stream again before the passengers were 
dressed. We had to ascend three rapids— Manigance, 
Cuisse and Croche— and each one had pecularities of its 
own, although they seemed to be unanimous in their de- 
sire to keep the Voyageur from going up stream, and, in 
fact, the first one, Manigance, acted as though if it 
could have its own way it would send the boat to the bot- 
tom rather than permit it to go on its journey up Btream. 
Fifteen miles from Grand Piles the Mekinac River comes 
in on the right (£. e., it is on the left bank); twelve miles 
further and the Mattawin River comes in on our left; twelve 
miles more and we reach Grand-Anse, a little settlement. 
From Grand-Anse to Rat River, on our left, it is twelve 
miles, and from Rat River to La Tuque it is twenty-one 
miles. The Wessonneau River is also on the right bank, 
and the Little Bostonais is on the left, being the outlet of 
Wayagamack Lake. The portage for the club house is 
two miles 'south of La Tuque, but I am getting up the 
river ahead of the steamer. All day Tuesday we charged 
the current and the rapids, when we were not fixing 
the machinery, and when night unrolled and spread itself 
over the Dominion we were still several miles shy of 
where we were to do the heel-and-toe act. No one seemed 
to mind the delay, as the steamer was well provisioned 
the weather was fine, and the river and its banks con- 
stituted one grand panorama of magnificent scenery, 
with sufficient change to keep us wondering what the 
next bend in the stream would unfold. However, I be- 
lieve I promised to say nothing about the scenery, as 
Givadam Johnson and Col. MacLean went up to the falls 
of La Tuque, which I did not, and they have charge of 
the scenery department, and will exhibit it in the culumns 
of this journal after I have done my turn. 
Wednesday forenoon the steamer dropped anchor op- 
posite the mouth of the Little Bostonais River, about two 
miles south of the proper landing, and the guide put the 
canoes in the water to take us up to and around the falls 
on this stream, and then on up stream to the main port- 
age. The falls are well worth seeing, but I advise any 
one who may go to the club to take my word for it and 
get a photograph of them, and disembark at the main 
portage. If one likes to climb up the side of a house 
about 150ft. high with no creepers or life insurance, by all 
means take in the falls, but take along a bag of crude 
oxygen and pump it into your lungs through a cake of 
ice, or your breath will set the forest afire before you get 
to the top. Johnson may not agree with me about this 
when he tackles the scenery, but the difference may be 
accounted for when I say he weighs 1171bs. and is agile 
enough to walk on a ceiling, while I weigh 5j201bs. and 
can' sit in a wagon behind a good strong horse all day 
without getting tired, 
From the St. Maurice^ River to the club house on the 
lake it is seven or eight miles, depending upon who tells 
it and whether or not you have a pack to carry. Four 
miles and a half is by land over a good trail and the bal- 
ance is by water in a canoe. A road has been cut so that 
all heavy luggage and stores are taken in by team, the 
guardian, Joe Mercier, living on the portage, so that he 
responds in person when invited by the steamer's whistle 
to do so. We reached the club house by the middle of 
the afternoon on Wednesday, but our rods and tackle had 
not arrived over the main portage, nor had the provisions. 
Rathbone found a sapling with hook and line belonging 
to the camp keeper, and going down to the landing, he 
pushed out in a canoe into the lake and hooked a trout in 
about four minutes' time. 
The club house is a substantial and comfortable building 
of squared logs standing on a slight elevation overlooking 
Lake Wayagamack. The lake itself is about five miles 
wide and seven miles long, but so irregular in shape that 
it has a shore line of about fifty miles. The territory 
leased by the club contains over 100 lakes. From Little 
Wayagamack Lake, less than three miles from the big 
lake, it is only about ten miles to Lake Edward on the 
Quebec & Lake St. John R. R. The rods and tackle came 
in before dark, and as soon as I could mount one I went 
down to the outlet, where the club has two other build- 
ings, and cast in the stream. The fishing was too good, 
the trout would rise at any fly offered. I do not know how- 
many I did catch, but I killed six, the smallest weighing 
lib., the largest nearly 21bs., that being my quota to supply 
the camp with food that night. The fishing in the quick 
water afforded some sport after the fish were hooked, for 
there were snags and things to be avoided, but eveiy 'cast 
seemed to raise a trout and it was too rich for one accus- 
tomed to work to get a fish to rise. The next day I fished 
in the lake and caught several trout weighing between 2 
and 31bs. each, but had to put most of them back unin- 
jured in the water. It seemed impossible to locate the 
big ones we were after. My guide, Aime Beauheu, had 
fished the lake through the ice in winter and had caught 
brook trout of lOlbs. weight, but he knew nothing of the 
fall fishing. 
In the afternoon there was rather too much wind for a 
canoe in the lake and I went down to the outlet stream, 
as we required fish in camp. Fifteen was my limit and 
they were caught in rough water in almost the same 
number of casts. I did try several different flies, but one 
was as good as another. I saw one big trout in the white 
foam and fished industriously for him. I have a very 
good idea in my own mind how muoh this fellow would 
have weighed had I been able to put him on the scales, 
but I could not tempt him. While fishing for him I 
hooked eighteen trout, which were released as soon as 
netted. The fish that I killed and the fish I returned 
would run from £ to 2^lbs. each, but they were not what 
I especially wanted. The next day was Friday, fish day, 
and Dr. Drummond had given Joe Mercier to me to pad- 
dle the canoe. Joe was an old voyageur of the Hudson 
Bay Company, and had lived most of his life among and 
with the Indians, for his wife was a squaw and 
had enjoyed foreign travel. During the war in 
Egypt the British Government had Bent to Canada 
for 600 voyageurs to operate the boats in pass- 
ing the cataracts of the Nile. Joe went over in 
charge of one of the detachments as captain of a com- 
pany, and his experience was amusing to listen to; but he 
said the birches, a few of which were taken along, were 
of no earthly account except to give the officers in the 
army a ride through the cataracts. We fished around an 
island thought by some one to resemble a steamboat, and 
so called Steamboat Island. There were trout enough to 
be had, but not of the magnitude I was after. One of 
4lbs. was the largest I caught, but my memoranda tells 
me, which is wholly unnecessary, that I hooked eight 
trout and lost them. They would stay on but little longer 
than it required to strike, and why I could not put a hook 
into those fish that would stay put I have not found out 
to this day. I hooked and landed trout that would weigh 
from 2J to 31bs., and then put them back in the water, for 
there was nothing else to do with them after I had killed 
all that could be eaten. Once I hooked a trout of per- 
haps lflbs. in weight, and played him toward the bow of 
