March 9, 1895. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
183 
about ten feet wide and about one foot deep, increasing 
in depth and width, as it runs along, for this stream is fed 
from its source to its mouth with colds prings, so it never 
freezes, rarely gets above sixty-two degrees temperature, 
is never affected by rains, for the rise and fall does not 
vary four inches, and no matter how hard it may pour 
for days the water is never discolored as the soil is all that 
white sand of unknown depth, so well known in the pine 
beginning to jump, first the little fellows on the shoals, 
then where the pool is deeper the big fellows make a 
splurge. In an instant I forget my fatigue, and putting 
on a winged May fly. make a cast where a large ripple de- 
notes a big fish. Great Heavens! What a strike. In- 
stantly there is music. This pool is the largest on the 
brook, is six or eight feet deep for a space in its center, 
probably twenty feet square, and as the pool is nearly a 
THE IUNNE NEAR THE GLORY HOLE. 
barrens of Northern Michigan. Not far from Spring Lake 
is Mill Lake, about half a mile in diameter, well stocked 
with muskalonge and black bass. We follow the stream 
through its inany twists and curves that an angler loves 
so well, running between high banks, cold and swift, un- 
til you come to where it pitches under the road above the 
Austin House. Here it widens, for, in olden days, a dam 
was built bplow to run a primitive saw-mill. This dam 
has been washed away partially, but it still makes quite . 
a pond, and is litpraily alive with trout, some of them 
big ones, too. Just at the dam stands our hatchery that 
we built in 1893, taking the first year ninety-two thou- 
sand eggs and hatching eighty-five per cent, of them. 
These were planted not only in our own streams, but in 
other streams tributary to the Pere Marquette. This year 
we have taken over two hundred thousand eggs that are 
hatching nicely at the time this is being written. We 
received from the State over three hundred thousand fry 
last year that we distributed in the lakes and streams in 
Lake County; but let's follow the stream and see what 
Ave can see. 
Below the rush of the water through the Austin dam is 
a grand hole where always lurks the big fellows, and from 
1 here to the railroad, careful and cautious fishing always 
produces a well-filled creel. 
Under the high bank carrying the railroad , the stream 
discharges through two large iron culvert pipes. It is 
always a question debated around the fire, whether or not 
the trout run up or down through these dark pipes. It 
does not seem to make much differences whether they do 
or do not; there are lots of fish both sides of the track. 
The photograph taken just below the railroad track 
gives you an idea of the stream, which here widens to 
about twenty feet, running from shallows to deep pools. 
The underbrush has been taken out; the Cedar swamps 
are now drier, and no bait fishing is allowed, and unless 
one is skillful witlTthe fly, you will catch no fish in 
Kinne. 
Sweeping around many bends, the next picture is taken 
just above Glory Hole. This is a beautiful spot. A big 
spring rushes in from under the bank, and in its eddy 
the big trout congregate. Cautiously peering over, one 
can always count from a dozen to five times that number 
of trout anywhere from ten feet long, well to say some of 
them two feet long. The water, may be, magnifies them, 
but just how large they are no one will ever know as 
they never take the fly, and no matter how carefully you 
approach the spot or how seductive the bait, nary a one 
will you land, for these fellows of the Glory Hole are edu- 
cated. Here is where we usually meet for luncheon. We 
have erected a little shelter for rain or sunshine; Bates 
brings the luncheon here at noon, and here is where we 
meet, compare catches, and tell yarns about the. big one 
that we have lost. 
What a beautiful stream it is! Was there ever a prettier 
one? The moss-covered logs and patches of moss that 
collect here and there are literally alive with shrimp. The 
abundance of food in the stream accounts for its great 
fertility. Without further artificial stocking, I think it 
could never be fished out, and I do not believe there is a 
stream in the world of its size that produces trout of as 
large an average. Our limit is eight oz.: anything be- 
low that must be returned, and a basket of fifteen pounds 
is all any of us are expected to catch, according to club 
rules, in a single day. Several dams have been con- 
structed to widen and deepen the water here and there, 
and to make rushing pools below. 
How well I remember one June evening standing at the 
foot of the old Cartier dam after an unsuccessful after- 
noon's angling. Suddenly the vast pool seemed to be alive 
with spreading rings. A cloud of insects, May flies, are 
hovering over the water. It is dusk, and the trout are 
hundred feet long and probably forty feet wide, it pro- 
vides ample sea-room to play large fish, and large fish 
there were there that night. I had no landing-net, and 
played my fish as hard as I could. Several I lost, one 
with broken tackle, and, for about half an hour I never 
had better sport. My large creel was filled, so that the 
lid bulged. After dressing them I had thirteen and one- 
half pounds and just seventeen fish. 
Of course, I lost the largest one, which I know was 
over three pounds, but one that I weighed after getting 
to the club house that night pulled down the scales at a 
good, strong two and one-half pounds. 
I have had good fishing there since, late at evening, but 
never has this basketful been equaled. 
Below the Cartier dam the character of the stream 
changes somewhat. There is very little moss or gravel, 
but instead that loose, sandy bottom so well known in all 
whom are residents of Saginaw, and the Saginaw crowd 
is well represented in this membership. 
Over across the hill is the nursery, a little stream about 
a mile long, originating in a spring and dying out m the 
sand, running nowhere. Here it is we deposit our fry 
for the first year. They do not have to be fed artificially 
and thrive wonderfully. 
The record kept of fish the last three seasons shovs s that 
we have taken about eleven thousand trout. We have a 
third lake on the property, not connected at all with the 
stream, and in this we have put some brown trout. 
With our hatchery, as it is arranged, and our means of 
taking cai - e of the breeding trout and fry, think we will 
have annually from three hundred to five hundred thou- 
sand fry from this on. 
A jolly party last fall went up to see the operation of 
stripping the fish. It was a cold day, and the ladies 
rigged up in all the old coats they could find in the club 
room. The picture herewith shows they were not a seri- 
ous crowd. In the stream below Spring Lake we have 
partitioned a part for the breeding trout, some ten or 
twelve hundred, and many of them big fellows. The 
netting is to keep out the kingfishers and heron. First 
we had this netting down close to the water, and we 
found many of the trout killed themselves by jumping 
against it. Now, with it raised up, we rarely lose a fish. 
A great future is in store for us. Every year we ex- 
pect great dividends from the Pere Marquette Club in the 
shape of fish, outings and fresh air. It is a rest from 
business that we all need and can get near home, for we 
take the afternoon train at four o'clock and are at the 
club grounds that evening for a late supper, and back to 
business after a day's fishing; so we feel we have lost no 
time. 
Several of the club members have erected summer cot- 
tages around Mill Lake, which is, indeed, a picturesque 
and pleasant spot. 
After all Northern Michigan is not waste land. Is not 
the present product ofWingleton of as much and more 
lasting value to mankind than in the days of the saw- 
mill? _ W. B. Mershon. 
Saginaw, Mich. 
DO-KA-BATL THE CHANGER. 
Now while the long evenings are here and the " 
"fraternity" have a little time to spare, I'll tell them 
whom to thank for the privilege of living in a country 
that has game to shoot at and fish to toss a fly to. I know 
this must be the right story of how these things came 
about, for Iwana John, who is very, very old, told me 
all about it this summer, while we sat by the remnants 
of the singgamble fire on the Skokomish river, which is 
born near the Thunderbird's nest away back in the 
Olympic mountains. At least John says it is born 
there, and I guess he knows. 
After I saw the singgamble I got the old man to talk- 
ing, and this is what he said : 
" A-a-h snugwillimie, has de-la-a-a-te ahncutty " 
Oh, yes ; I forgot ; you don't understand Chinook, so I'll 
translate it. A long, long time ago," said he "many 
snows before I was a little boy, a great man whom the 
Siawash call Do-ka-batl, the Changer, came riding oat 
of the sea on a big cloud and came here by this river. 
You know the Siawash then did not know how to 
catch salmon with the willow trap, and Do-ka-batl soon 
showed them, and they catch many salmon that way 
now. Then, for it was very, very long ago, there were 
many bad Indians, so Do-ka-batl changed things this 
way. One bad Indian sat making a stone knife sharp 
and Do-ka-batl knew it was to kill him, so he said : ' Why 
THE KINNE BELOW THE RAILROAD. 
our Michigan grayling streams. The trout, too, instead 
of being dark, hard and metallic looking fellows, are 
lighter, and seem softer when you run a knife through 
them to clean them. Still, we find large ones here, and 
many of them, but the choicest bit of fishing, and that 
for which we all strive is from Glory Hole to the Cartier 
dam. 
Our club consists of twenty members, about half of 
do you sharpen the knife?' The man did not answer, so 
Do-ka-batl said : ' Give me that knife ; you want to kill 
me!' The Indian was much afraid and started to run, but 
left his knife, which Do-ka-batl picked up and threw into 
the man's heel, making him jump much ; and then he 
changed him into a deer, and he jumps much yet. 
That is why a deer has two toes, and the little toes that 
stick out behind the foot are all that is left of the knife. 
