26 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 14, 1894. 
of days, enjoying ourselves and seeing the geysers. We 
were at this point forty miles from the Mammoth Hot 
Springs, and we felt as if that were nothing, and as if 
the trip could not fail of being a success in its main pur- 
poses. Barring Holte, whose eyes were paining him in- 
tensely and who seemed to have gone a little stale, we 
were all in perfect health, with vitality keyed up to a 
pitch which made the mere breathing of the air of heaven 
a keen and subtle pleasure. Let those who will, loiter 
languidly through the Park in summer and comment on 
its beauty from a carriage seat. That is better than 
nothing, but the best is the trip on skis, if one really 
wants to see what wonderful things the Wonderland can 
do for one in winter. Certainly, it has spells, magic, 
charms for rest, for healing, for delight. E. Hough. 
909 Security Building, Chicago. 
CAMP LIFE AT CLEAR LAKE. 
Quebec, Canada. — We do not go to Clear Lake to get a 
lot of fish in a short time, we go for our health — or some- 
thing. Anyway, we go and we keep on going. I go 
because — well, let us say because I have to go, which I do 
not. But that would be an awfully good reason for going, 
and I am inclined to adopt it. The Professor goes because 
it is good for him, and he likes it. Other people go 
because they are invited, and then are invited some more, 
and continue to be invited. 
When that camp was built, iron door fastenings were 
rejected and a wooden latch put on, the string of which 
hangs outside the door from May 1 to Oct. 1. 
So the Professor and his friends leave home at 8 P. M., 
and at 4 P. M. the next day are at the cabin. When it is 
known tbat some one is coming there are usually a few 
trout in the ice house: and by the time the guests have 
changed their clothes and got into knickerbockers if they 
are men, or into camping petticoats if they are women, 
and have speered about a little and the newcomers have 
been shown over the premises and the old ones have noted 
the changes made since last year, a blast on a tin horn 
tells that some of the trout have been cooked and supper 
is ready. All hands are hungry, for most of them pre- 
ferred walking the four miles through the woods to rid- 
ing. The walk was very lovely, but did not appease 
appetites in the least. 
Our trout are nevpr very big. We reckon on just one 
apiece and some extra ones for a meal for an average 
party. There are always baked beans on tap besides to 
meet emergencies. 
After supper nobody cares to do much. The Professor 
looks over his fishing tackle and finds two or three 
broken tips and a reel out of order, that the other Pro- 
fessor must repair, for the other Professor is an expert in 
whatever requires delicate handling of tools or nicety in 
manipulation. So they two get out a great lot of things 
and pile them up on the table along with books, clothes, 
pipes, tobacco, photographic and astronomical instru- 
ments, and what not, where they will have a heap of 
trouble in finding them again. Having got so far along 
they leave them and go out of doors to see what is going 
on, for by this time Hypolite and Cyprien have decided 
that it is time to light up their welcoming bonfires, and 
most of the guests are sitting under the pavilion looking 
at them. When the fires are burned down it is bedtime. 
The gentlemen hang their clothes on the floor or wherever 
the Professors have left room for them, and turn in. 
At 4 A. M. my Professor is out to try to get some trout 
for breakfast. There is always an extra rod on the pegs 
ready for him, for his own are almost certain to require 
some tinkering. 
About 5 he comes back, declaring that the trout don't 
rise worth a cent, but always bringing some. The rest 
of us may just as well get up when he comes in. We 
have had" all the sleep we are likely to get. The ladies 
will not appear before six, so we have ample time to take 
baths and get hungry before the horn sounds for break- 
fast. A cup of ready prepared coffee helps us to wait. 
After that comes the question, 'What are we going to 
do to-day?" It does not much matter whether the ques- 
tion is answered or not, for we may be sure that nothing 
that may be suggested for this first day will be done. 
Almost the only thing that will be done is the one that is 
not suggested, and that is — loaf. No one wants to go 
anywhere. To sit round and enjoy the air and scenery is 
about all the work anybody cares to do to-day — except 
eat. If we were astonished at the appetites last night we 
shall be equally so to-day, although nothing would seem 
to have been done to provoke them. Nobody appears to 
be altogether idle, but not much will be accomplished. 
The Professors will be busy whittling, making napkin 
rings, salad spoons, boxes and the like, anything that can 
be wrought out with jack-knives and sand paper and the 
help of the little kit of tools that the other Professor 
always carries with him. They will keep Cyprien busy 
rough-dressing the wood that they propose to work up. 
Possibly they may photograph a little, but as they have 
already taken all the possible subjects, they will now 
attempt the impossible. They will pass a delightful day 
together, and perhaps not have much to show for it at the 
end. But that is no matter. We shall have our supper a 
little early and then sort ourselves out into the various 
boats and canoes and go cruising and fishing. There will 
be several things proposed to be done when we get back, 
but before we realize it we shall find that about the only 
thing people want to do is to go to bed. 
It will never answer to while away camping days in 
such a manner as that. Those in authority say that to- 
day we must "go down the Discharge!" We tell Hypolite 
we shall be back late to dinner and row or paddle across 
the lake. We cannot go anywhere without first crossing 
the lake, for the very simple reason that our camp is on 
the other side of it. 
Once across we stroll along a footpath or over rocks at 
the side of a rough and picturesque outlet of the lake. It 
must needs be rough, for it has over 400ft. to fall and is 
less than half a mile long. Twice it gets down 100ft. at 
a jump. It is very interesting, but those of us who have 
seen it fifty times before shirk a part of the walk, build a 
fire, light our pipes, and wonder why the others are gone 
so long. There is no fishing of consequence unless we go 
a long way — and this is not our fishing day. 
When we get back and have had our dinner it is voted 
to be too late to go anywhere else. The ladies say they 
have seen enough for one day. They want some excur- 
sions kept in reserve. The proposition not to go to Lake 
a Louise till to-morrow meets immediate favor. In fact, 
anything that is notto be done to-day is heartily approved. 
So nothing more is done, except that after supper again 
we go out on to the lake, see other views, wake other 
echoes and catch other trout, coming back only in time 
for a few songs and then go to sleep again. For although 
we seem to get up at almost disreputably early hours we 
get in an abundance of sound and refreshing sleep. 
When the ladies come from their room it is not necessary 
to ask them how they have slept. Their appearance 
speaks for them. 
Now we only go to Lake a Louise for fishing, although 
the walk to it is charming. But it is only a short distance 
and we don't want to go till afternoon, so we do this 
morning very much what we did yesterday afternoon, 
that is, pretty much nothing at all. Nobody finds it in the 
least tiresome. We have with us, however, some vigor- 
ous young fellows whose muscles demand constant exer • 
cise. These we inveigle to go over to Lake a Chaltre and 
get us some larger trout than we have been having. 
Hypolite puts them up some lunch and we start them off, 
feeling that they are safely disposed of for the day. For 
Lake a Chaltre is a good three-quarters of an hour's walk 
— from the other side of our lake, of course — and there 
are two high hills to go both up and down, whether going 
or coming. People cannot expect to go far among the 
Laurentides without finding some hills to climb. When 
the boys reach the lake they will find only some rafts, 
which will doubtless require repairs before they can be 
used, so we feel quite sure they have their day's work 
laid out. But they will bring home about a dozen trout 
weighing over a pound each, and all hands will be satisfied. 
In the afternoon the rest of us go to Lake a Louise. It 
is well understood that nobody need go except to fish, 
but somehow or other everybody goes. There are only 
one canoe and a raft over vhere, and we take turns in 
using them. The canoe gets over the water fifty times 
as fast, but I believe the rafters get the most fish. They 
do not seem to be frightened by it. 
Those not fishing build a fire and sit on the shore and 
watch, applauding vigorously when the young lady who 
never handled a fly-rod before in her life hooks the larg- 
est fish of the day, and under the Professor's direction 
secures him handsomely. 
The next day it is ordaiaed that we must go down the 
Noire and have a picnic, just as if every day was not a 
picnic. Across the lake first of course. There is no 
going anywhere without that. Then down a steep and 
high cliff. It used to be a tough job to go down or up, 
but a surprisingly few days' work have made it almost a 
comfortable stairway. Ladies no longer abuse us when 
we propose to go down the Dalles. 
At the foot is the river. Half a mile down is a dam, 
near to which we go in canoes. A few minutes' walk 
through the bushes and we reach the top of the falls. 
From here for a mile and a half is a succession of falls, 
rapids and pools. Trout all the way along. 
This is a fishing day as well as a picnic. The water is 
not very high, and we can walk along the rocks easily; 
but those restless young athletes are not content with 
that, but cross and recross the river and scramble into 
places that we older chaps are quite willing they should 
monopolize. They fall into the water occasionally, which 
does not seem to trouble them in the slightest degree. A 
good many trout are taken, but we can well afford to 
spare the little ones, and they are put gently back into the 
water. 
And so it goes on. Luncheon, lounging, fishing, more 
luncheon and then home again. It has been a delightful 
day. To-morrow it is going to rain. I believe those Pro- 
fessors will be secretly glad of it, for there will be nothing 
to divert them from their beloved carpentering, unless it 
be the numerous photographic plates that they have to 
develop. The ladies will take more tucks in their skirts 
and then lie in the hammock and read novels. The boys 
— it is rather difficult to say what they will do. If it rains 
very hard it is likely they will lounge about and read 
novels also. 
After the rain my Professor and I want to go up to 
Camp Nicolas. We don't want to take the ladies. At 
least, we say we don't. We tell them we have talked the 
matter over, and, on the whole, they had better not go. It 
is far and the accommodations are rough. There is only 
one room, where all must eat and sleep. For Camp Nicolas 
was built mainly for winter use, to be nearer the haunts 
of the caribou. 
The ladies are not disturbed at all. They make light 
altogether of my discouraging remarks. They say to me, 
"Now, Mr. de Montauban, please not try to humbug us. 
You know that if it wasn't all right you wouldn't have 
thought of taking us at all, and if it is all right we all 
want to go." 
"But it will be a two or three days' trip." 
"Won't that be jolly!" 
"And we think of taking the tents and camping on the 
Pi-Oui." 
"Oh my! what a lark!" 
What can men do under such circumstances? Nothing 
but submit to fate, preparing for it as best they can. 
That is what we do. 
When the time comes we cross over and go down the 
"Dalles" again. There, in its usual place, is one big canoe, 
which this party has not yet used. It would carry us all, 
but having regard for the muscular activity of those boys 
(and our private plans as well), we put them into a 
smaller canoe by themselves, where they can expend 
their superabundant strength on the paddles to their 
hearts' content. 
For a wonder the wind is fair to go up stream, so we set 
our sail and glide along swiftly and noiseless, for we are 
loaded just right, and there is only a bit of a ripple at the 
bow and a trifling wake at the stern. For an hour we run 
along under a cliff that rises 200 or 300ft. above our heads. 
Sometimes we might touch it with a paddle and again we 
are far from it. Then we pass out into the open lake, and 
by and by stop at the Isle a Laurent, where we stuff our- 
selves with blueberries. An Indian and his daughter 
lived here for many years, giving the island his name. In 
her youth the girl was timid and graceful as a fawn. She 
ma.rried and became a shapeless hag, like most women of 
her race. The man was found dead by a roadside. 
Embarking again, we put two reliable paddlers at the 
bow, for in half an hour or so we shall run into a narrow 
and crooked channel where we must keep a sharp look. 
out for snags. We pass it safely, holding the sheet in our 
hand and trimming the sail constantly. We come suddenly 
out into the glorious expanse of another lake, keeping our 
passengers' attention attracted to something on our left 
until we make a quick turn to the right, and the whole 
bursts upon them at once. Then we have an air line 
course almost to our destination. 
Camp Nicolas is all right. It is large enough, but 
there is not much furniture in it. We must sit on boxes 
and sleep on boughs. 
How is it possible for people to get so hungry? Of 
bread and pork, the two necessities of camping, I always 
take about twice as much as folks think we shall need 
and rarely have a surplus. Fortunately we had sense 
enough to send out two men yesterday to catch some 
fish for us. They are those great, fork-tailed trout 
(namaycush), weighing from 2 to 201bs., very good eating, 
but requiring a lot of labor and patience to catch, for the 
brutes will touch nothing but live minnows and give no 
sport. The immediate neighborhood of Camp Nicolas is 
not to be relied on for fontinalis. 
We set up one tent for the workmen and cook and eat 
out of doors. The ladies enjoy it. It takes a lot of 
branches to make beds for so many people, but we get 
enough at last, and when the fires are burned out and 
the stories told all hands are impatient to try them. 
The beds are on the floor, the women in one row and the 
men in another. The old campers go to sleep promptly, 
but the young ones find the Bcene too novel and much 
chaff and banter is exchanged. 
Next day we cruise about the lakes and explore strange 
waters, finding tracks of bear and caribou and strange 
birds. The Professors take no end of photographs. Ap- 
petites are as good and sleep as sound as ever, and when 
another morning comes we pack up and start for the Pi- 
Oui. Down the lake a couple of miles and off at one side 
we find the mouth of a river, which we go up as far as 
we can. Then we come to a fall, round which we portage 
the small canoe and baggage, and soon come to one of our 
old camping grounds, where we set up the tents, a short 
job, for we find our old tent poles and pickets just where 
we left them. Folks are hungry again by that time. 
After dinner we leave the ladies to rest while we old 
men go up the river in the canoe to the first rapid — -and 
fish in the pool at the bottom, letting the boys go up 
through the woods and climb to the inaccessible r©cks, 
and drop flies into holes that we do not hanker after. 
Our age and infirmities move us to stick to the canoe and 
quieter waters. 
But we have found the river scenery so lovely that we 
send the boat back to bring the ladies up. When they 
reach us they are so delighted that they want to go fur- 
ther, so another portage is made and another stretch of 
river visited, and then another and another, for the car- 
ries are neither long nor hard, and we know that a little 
further up are some more rapids, so that all who are dis- 
posed can have the pleasure of "running" one or more on 
the way back. We go far enough to give each of the 
ladies a chance, which not one fails to accept. The rest 
walk along by turns and soon get back to camp, for we 
have dawdled so long that we have not gone up much 
more than a couple of miles all told. 
The boys bring in a few trout, and after supper there are 
camp-fires, round which the ladies dilate on their after- 
noon s experiences, and are loth to go to bed. For from 
the men's camp they hear every now and again some of 
those charming Canadian songs and the delicious refrain, 
"Le beau jour de I'amour s'en va," 
sounds unusually triste this evening. 
To-morrow morning we must get back to our cabin, and 
some of our guests will leave us. Others will come, and 
we shall make other excursions, for our list is not nearly 
exhausted yet. And when our friends get together after- 
ward they will talk them over and perhaps lay plans 
for future visits to forests and streams. 
G-. de Montauban. 
OUANANICHE NOTES. 
Ouananiche ? Well, now! Didn't I? They are every- 
where. They are in the Grande Decharge, they are in 
the lake, they are in the big tributaries of the lake, and 
some of them are in me. It has been my first experience 
with them. On the first day 1 tried to decide what their 
favorite flies were, and had an ouananiche of one size or 
another on my line all day long no matter what flies were 
on the leader. Under such circumstances it was hard to 
make a decision. 
After I had enjoyed the change from the monotony of 
casting to the monotony of tiring out the fish, and vice 
versa, I stopped at noon and walked off on a rocky 
point to fish for dore for a rest. I took off the stretcher 
fly and put on a hook baited with an eye. Then a sinker 
and float were adjusted a la school boy and the bait 
dropped to the bottom in a quiet eddy. The first thing 
that took the bait was a big ouananiche. He was properly 
landed, and the hook was again sent "a seeking." The 
next that took hold was another ouananiche, and he took, 
not the bait, mind you, but the silver-doctor fly that I had 
been too lazy to remove, and that was absolutely still in 
the water midway between the float on one side and the 
hook and sinker on the other. When this fish was landed 
and I was getting actually impatient at not catching dore, 
a big piece of dace was put on the bait hook. As it sank 
toward the bottom it caused the float to slide along the 
surface, which sight made an ouananiche's mouth so 
water that he leaped at the very mirage of a living thing 
and almost cut the float from the line in his savage on- 
slaught. They would have taken the sinker if I had 
waited longer. The ouananiche will strain at a gnat and 
swallow an American flag tied to a pair of ice tongs. 
This idea of tying a fly to simulate the insects that 
ouananiche happen to be feeding upon at a certain time 
is very pretty, and it also works. So also does any other 
fly when the fish are in a biting mood. When they are 
not in a biting mood they will not take gold dollars. At 
this time of the year they are almost always ready to take 
the fly, but in the middle of a bright day they are inclined 
to play with the fly. They play about in the white foam 
and stick their fins through, and as ouananiche are always 
in sight, I could select the largest ones and go for any par- 
ticularly big one that was rolling about and showing him- 
self in the foam. They use the. big foam flecks for cover. 
Frequently, after my making a cast, on beginning to 
retrieve a wake would follow the stretcher fly as though 
a muskrat were swimming along under water, a" 4 when, 
