June 27, 1896,] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
817 
glad enough to get out of there alive. If one should get 
through the crust of the bog no soul on earth would ever 
see him again, and only speculation could exist as to 
where he went beneath the bog. It is bottomless so far 
as I know. Now come on in and let me show you about 
how much chance you will have to get out of here if any- 
thing should happen to our boat." 
A Black and Deadly Water. 
Accordingly we began to row slowly about the edge of 
the pool, searching for some spot where solid ground 
could be reached by swimming, wading or crawling. We 
were forced to believe that not the most desperate man. 
no matter what his straights or what his skill in the travel 
of the marsh, could ever make his way within 40yds. of 
the shore. All around the pool was a rim of high lily pads 
and dock leaves which stood dank and coarse to a height 
of 2 or 3ft. above the water. Their roots ran down a 
dozen or perhaps 20ft. into soft mud, intertwined with all 
sorts of rank water plants. These pads and spatterdocks 
stood on the edge of a sharp bar, which encircled the lake 
completely, and from which the water dropped abruptly 
down, 20 to 30ft. in depth at once. It was as black and 
cold and deadly looking a water as I ever saw and touched, 
and gave one a feeling of dread to look at. 
Outside of the rim of lilypads the water plants grew 
in water a trifle more shoal as the edge of the bog was 
approached, though at no place attainable by the boat 
was the water less than 5ft. deep. Beyond that came 
the rushes and the flags and the green floating turf and 
the soft bog in order, and then the hard and high shore 
which surrounded it all. Upon this shore, under a 
clump of trees, our other companions were waiting for 
us. It had been thought that there was a second boat 
somewhere upon this pool, which we were to take out 
for the others. But we found no boat, and it would have 
made no difference if we had, for we could not have got- 
ten the lightest canoe across that treacherous bog to 
them. We got no closer than about 80yds. of them, al- 
though we wanted to get in to take one or two of them 
aboard our boat, and at length we had to give it up and 
lemain a hopelessly divided party, the intervening waters 
bridged only by the thoughts that come from each to 
the other, and by our shouted words of regret and expla- 
nation. 
Thus it* may be seen what it means to actually attain 
the head of the Calumet. There are not very many who 
can say that in any recent time they have attained it. 
No human being can reach it except by boat, and the 
boat must come up the slow and sluggish creek. If all 
knew what was at the head of the creek they might seek 
the harder to get through the water weeds, but a half 
mile or so of dragging is more than most men care to do, 
unless for a definite purpose, such as that which actuated 
my friend and myself. But thanks to his knowledge of 
the country and to perseverance with the push paddles, 
we reached our objective point, and now I think I can 
truthfully and accurately say that the head of the Calu- 
met has been found! This fact will be noted with inter- 
est by the members of the Calumet Heights Club, to 
whom the question seems long to have remained one of 
interesting but unsettled speculation. 
A Place of Spirits. 
We did not remain a great while on this water. "I never 
feel comfortable in here," said Dr. Hollenbeck, "and 
though I know it is as good a bass hole as any in the coun- 
try, I never like to come here. A fellow goes fishing for 
sport, for fun; but I declare that he can't have any fun in 
this hole here. It's too dismal, and it keeps one uneasy 
and uncomfortable all the time, so that he doesn't enjoy 
himself. One thing sure, if anything happens to his boat 
he'd just as well say his prayers, for no one ever comes up 
near here, and he could never get out without his boat. 
If it sprung a leak he couldn't go ashore, and if he upset 
anywhere near these accursed lily Btems he could never 
swim nor wade nor wallow either to the boat or to the 
shore. But it isn't the sense of fear, of course. We aren't 
cowards, and we know we can take care of ourselves in 
the boat all right, and of course we've both been in far 
more dangerous places and didn't mind it at all. That isn't 
it. There's something uncanny, something repellant 
about this hole. It's a good place to catch bass, but it's no 
kind of a place to go fishing. Here it is, a warm summer 
day, but I give you my word I can feel my back crawling 
this minute I If this place isn't haunted there never was 
one on earth I" 
"Let's go home," said I: for the longer I stayed there the 
unhappier I got. I don't want to fish in a place where a 
fellow has cold chills along his back in the middle of a 
hot afternoon, and I vow that that is just what I was ex- 
periencing, the same as my friend. So we pulled our boat 
for the dim mouth of the little outlet, and at last got back 
to the mill and took passage thence for home. 
I am not sure but that some day Dr. Hollenbeck and I 
will go up into that haunted pool with a bag full of frogs 
and kill a few big bass, but this we shall do merely from 
a sense of duty, and not because we believe it will be any 
pleasure at all. When we go fishing for fun, we want to 
have a warmer spine than is possible on the head pool of 
the Calumet, that dank, dark, uncommunicative river 
whose source is hid within and withunder the bottomless 
bogs under the foot of the dead glacier of the North. On 
the bottomless pit it may perhaps take hold, for we sought 
not to sound it beyond a tew score feet, and then down 
under the shaking bog that protects it there may be under- 
water people who resent intrusion, and so put cold hands 
along one's spine. These people, I do not doubt, used 
once to live on the edge of the great glacier as it came 
down from the North, and so have lived here ever since, 
this being as far as they ever traveled from their home in 
the North. It is no wonder that their hands are cold and 
their speech somewhat frigid and repellant, 
The Texas Situation. 
Mr. R. H. Foat, of Wetherford, Tex,, was in Chicago 
this week on his way to Lake Vieux Desert for a muscal- 
longe trip. Mr. Foat says that the tarpon season this 
spring at Aransas Pass has not been so very good. Only 
five tarpon had been taken at the time of his late visit 
there, two by a Mr. Sutherland, of Chicago, and three by 
a gentleman from Michigan who was fishing with the 
same party. 
Mr. Foat Bays that in another year or so the Northern 
shooters will not have the opportunity to come into Texas 
and carry on a wholesale destruction of game. There is 
very intense feeling in parts of the State over the doings 
of last season. The intention is to frame a law stopping 
market-shooting and limiting non-resident shooting. He 
says that one market-hunter at Rockport, Tex., claims 
that he made $1,200 on ducks last winter. Mr. Foat 
thinks that the supply of wildfowl will not long stand 
the combined inroads recently made upon them. 
Not Much Fishing 1 . 
The weather here has remained so cold and uninviting 
that not so much fishing as usual has been going on. I 
have not heard of any large muscallonge having been 
taken this season, though it is not time yet to get in re- 
Eorts' from the muscallonge waters. Messrs. Mussey, 
ticks and the others of the party who went up to Big 
Sand Lake are maintaining a silence which I hope means 
intent enjoyment. At last the members of the Wishi- 
ninne Club were on their way up the river to Manitowish. 
Trolling in the river on the way up to the dam, Mr. 
Dennis took a lOlbs. muscallonge and Mr. Clark one 
weighing 13ilbs. This would augur well for their Buccess 
when on their intended fishing ground. 
Arkansas Bass. 
Mr. Joseph Irwin, of Little Rock, Ark., states that fine 
catches of bass have been made at Clear Lake, twenty 
miles south of Little Rock. Five bass weighing over 
5£lbs. each were taken by one party of which two were 
over 6lbs. each. The son of Mr. William Turrel took 
several heavy bass in his mill pond, one weighing 71bs. 
A negro fisherman took in the same pond a bass weighing 
over 81bs., which is thought to be the heaviest taken in 
that section for some time. 
Mr. Irwin says that the turkey shooting was very fine 
on the St. Francis River this spring, and that he shared 
the sport with great pleasure. E. Hough. 
1206 Boyok Boildinq, Chicago. 
FLY-FISHING 
On the North Shore of Lake Superior. 
[Continued from page U97.\ 
We arose in the morning with dismay pictured on 
every countenance, for a heavy fog was streaming in 
from the lake like a drizzling rain. The trees were dark 
and dripping, the bushes and grasses bending to the earth 
with heavy moisture, and the leaves, lately so gay of tint, 
fell in dead heaps or drifted mournfully on the sweeping 
wings of an easterly wind. Everything was in melan- 
choly somberness, and the sky was completely shut out 
by the great vapors that rolled o'er the shadowless waters 
and into the green woods and around the mountain peaks 
and pinnacled cliffs. Ned was out of humor, the half- 
breeds in the same condition and I was fast going in the 
same direction. 
"It may clear up," says Ned, grasping at a rap of hope, 
"Well, we'll have breakfast first and then we see," says 
philosophic Kenosh. 
When that was partaken of Ned and I strolled along a 
sandy beach that had formed here and scanned that fog 
with the eye of an astronomer whose sole ambition is to 
discover an unknown planet. Our planet that we so longed 
for was the blue sky above, but we saw it not, nothing 
rewarding our penetrating gaze but the rolling and fall- 
ing mist, There was just air enough to crisp the sea and 
send ripples o'er the sandy beach in the sweetest of fal- 
setto notes. 
Wearied of tramping on the hard sand, we took a seat 
on a fallen tree whose branches were in the water, and 
which rose and fell a'.cording to the strength of the in- 
coming wave. Tiring of viewing the fog banks, which 
offered no solution of the weather, we returned to camp 
and found our "boys" packing up for a departure. 
"Going Dff in the fog?" says Ned, when we had joined 
them. 
"That's it. We make the island anyhow," says Kenosh. 
"Yes, if you don't get lost in the fog, as you did the - 
other day in the Bay." 
"You give me course then." 
"All right, I will pilot you, and it will be by compass 
too." 
This part of the embarkation being satisfactorily settled, 
the boys resumed their work, and in a brief time every- 
thing was aboard. Just as we were about to Bhove off 
along comes the generalissimo with his little band, who 
were somewhat surprised at our going off so suddenly in 
the fog. 
"Say, where are you going?" hastily questioned the 
ruling chief. 
"Aguawa Harbor," replied Ned, 
"You will get lost in the fog." 
"Not so bad as you in the cracker box," quickly spoke 
up Kenosh. 
"What about the cracker box, Kenosh?" 
"The little devils eat heap, 4 or 6 lbs." 
"Say," says Ned, turning indignantly to the boys, 
"didn't you feed our crackers to the dogs?" 
"Yes, but they were awful hungry too," he boldly 
replied, and then the boys all smiled. 
"Why, we hired you to keep the dogs away." 
' We didn't let 'em in the tent, we fed 'em on the out- 
side. They were awful hungry, I tell you." 
The little plunderers were so tickled over their leader's 
unblushing acknowledgment that they were ready to 
turn somersaults in very excess of joy. 
"Why, you are as bad as pirates." 
"I teil you we were awful hungry, dogs too, and didn't 
I offer to pay you for all we took," came back the retort. 
Ned was angry, but this last response nevertheless made 
him smile, and when Kenosh assured him that we had 
an abundance of crackers left he turned to the boys as 
the boat was disappearing in the fog and good-naturedly 
said, "Boys, we'll have a word with you when we return." 
"All right. Say, old man, hold 'er nor'nor'west and 
you will come out all right." 
"The little devil right," says Kenosh, and so we headed 
"nor'nor'west" and soon were lost to sight of land, with all 
the poetry of the skies and the earth hidden by the misty 
vapors. 
"I now understand," says Ned when we were plunging 
along, "why that little imp wanted to reimburse us for the 
abstracted crackers. It was simply the subterfuge of a 
wily diplomat, for he knew full well that we would not 
accept his coin, and he also knew that he had pilfered 
more crackers than he ought. Think of our paying him 
to keep away the hungry dogs and then of his calling 
them up and cramming them with our choice soda 
crackers. What a grand feast it must have been for 
those immense canines who are continually in a famished 
condition. We, however, involuntarily did a good action, 
although it was accomplished by stealth." 
"They smart half-breeds," says Kenosh. 
"Yes, if looting is considered smart, they are, I re- 
plied. 
"What looting?" 
"Stealing." 
"Oh, oh, I see. I know now. Looting be steal. I use 
him when back home." And then the half-breed seemed 
pleased with himself that he had obtained complete knowl- 
edge of the word. 
For about three-quarters of an hour we held the boat 
on her course, and just as we reached Maimaise Point the 
fog, which had been growing lighter and lighter, lifted 
sufficiently to show the land. We found we were right, 
but just here we had to change to almost due north, and it 
was indeed fortunate for us that the fog lifted or else we 
would have been very materially off our course. Here 
the wind dropped and we were compelled to take oars for 
our motive powers. On reaching Point au Pins a south 
wind sprang up and once more the sails were hoisted and 
away we sped o'er a sea that was dancing in merry rip- 
ples. Soon the sun beamed down upon us, with not a 
vestige of the fog left. It had disappeared to regions be- 
yond, much to our immediate relief. Flecks of crimson, 
like floating rose leaves, drifted in the sky above the 
mountain tops, and below these delicate flushes radiated 
and penetrated the moistened forest. Here the towering 
elevations are seamed with many a rift and gorge, the 
secret birthplace and nursery of the glittering brooks 
that come sparkling into life and go dancing down the 
mountain side to contribute their cool and purling waters 
to the great reservoir. 
Along this range the Montreal has its headwaters, as 
also the Aguawa and other lesser streams. The gleaming 
trout formerly roved along this picturesque shore in 
countless numbers, but now, alasl they have almost en- 
tirely disappeared, and into the rapacious hands of the 
market purveyor. 
Arriving at a small rocky islet that was then gleaming 
in rich colors, Kenosh informed us that a few years ago a 
party of anglers en route home from the 'North Shore 
stopped at this place to camp for the night despite the 
remonstrance of their tawny boatmen. They tried hard 
to convince the fishermen of danger if caught there in a 
storm, but they laughed at the half-breeds' timidity and 
emphatically ordered the tents to be pitched on the mis- 
shapen and barren island. Up went the fluttering can- 
vas as per order, but about midnight when they were all 
sound asleep a sudden storm arose and came down upon 
them with sweeping violence. When the gale first struck 
the island away went their tents and away went consider- 
able of their outfit. It was then neck or nothing with 
them and was really a miracle that they got safely ashore. 
After that the boatmen's edict was duly honored. 
As we sailed o'er the lucent waves the fiery gold radi- 
ance of the sun spread itself out in wilder glory and the 
great massive rocks of incongruous shapes, which lined 
the shore and had the writing of ages upon their hoary 
faces, were in steely shimmer, while the forests adjacent 
were full of glowing colors. We are now abreast of Mon- 
treal River, with its two towering hills that guard its 
spreading mouth, and with a few miles more advance the 
waters of the Aguawa will wash our boat. Here we saw 
on the beach the tents of a party of anglers from Grand 
Rapids. They had left the "Soo" a week in advance of 
us and proposed to pass six weeks at this place, long 
enough we thought to deplete the racing river of its finny 
population. The party consisted of Henry Post and wife, 
Dr. Kirkland and wife, Charles Withey, James Campbell 
and. B. C. Robinson, and in addition three dogs. They 
were a lively party and had an avalanche of fun and 
caught trout galore. I really pitied the ladies when- I 
came to consider what a terrible place the Aguawa was 
for the buzzing and biting insects. Dr. Robinson, how- 
ever, assured me that the ladies had pants, and I learned 
after their trip that they had proved just the thing to 
ward off the attacks of the tiny horde, the pest of all 
anglers on this shore. Stick a pin here, ladies, when you 
take the North Shore trip. 
About 2 o'clock we reached Aguawa harbor, about 
three miles from the river; of that name, and camped on 
one of the small islands so numerous here, and really the 
only camping place at this harbor, and one of the best on 
the North Shore. Here we found that a party of anglers, 
who had left the "Soo" at the same time the Grand 
Rapids party did, had preceded us at this place, and as 
we thought depleted the waters of the spangled beauties 
that rove along these grand and picturesque shores. We 
learned afterward that they remained only one day and 
caught no trout whatever. Such bad luck drove them 
back to their former camping place, Jackson's Cove, 
where they stated they caught 150 fine brook trout during 
their ten days' stay. The party embraced Herschel V. 
Whittaker, Horace W. Davis, F. B. Dickinson, Wm. E. 
Robinson, Hon. John W. Preston, F. E. Brooke and Har- 
vey Marks, all of Detroit except Davis and Marks. The 
first three mentioned are the fish commissioners of Mich- 
igan, while the last is the assistant superintendent of the 
State Fish Hatchery at the "Soo." We found them all 
high-toned gentlemen, as well as genuine gilt-edged 
anglers. Mr. Whittaker is said to be an expert piscator 
and drops his flies with not only the lightness of a falling 
snowflake, but where he wills them. He might not cast 
a lure in the space a nickel fills, but he can do it nine 
times out of ten within the circumscribed limits of a sil- 
ver dollar. Thaf s a feat in fly-casting a notch above my 
piscatorial accomplishment, for I would require a good- 
sized hat to bound my limits in casting at a mark. Ned 
can speak for himself, but I think he is in my class. 
After we had the camp in fine trim and partaken of a 
good square meal, we started with the boat to ascertain if 
the departed anglers had left a trout that we could entice. 
The harbor is a noted place, and that afternoon, with the 
bright sun glowing on its battered walls that rose up in 
an almost perpendicular line from the water, was doubly 
impressive. This part of the lake is not only picturesque, 
but extremely idyllic in its poetic beauty, and a region 
where Oreads might have sported while Diana pursued 
the fleeting game that has for ages made these mountain 
fastnesses its favorite haunts, for 
"Here where her orchards, walled in every side, 
To lawless sylvans all access denied." 
We first skirted along the north side, which was ex- 
ceedingly generous in ledges and crevices, and just the 
