\ 
342 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
[April 30, 1898, 
it 
Hark Back/' 
Your well-trained hunter has Carried yon, to your 
entire satisfaction, over a sporting country Avith a fast 
pack of hounds, a good fox in front. Bank and ditch, 
stone wall and brook safely past, there is a "check." 
Your horse is refreshed, yourself not sorry for time 
for reflection. A cast to right and left is made in vain. 
The master of foxhounds gives the command, "Hark 
back!" and soon the eager hounds take up the scent; 
you tighten the girths; your horse settles down to his 
work with renewed vigor; you are once more in the 
"ruck;" you follow on to the death. No such question 
remains in your mind as "Is life worth living?" 
With feelings such as these, as an old sportsman who 
had gone far afield to fish every available salmon river, 
every well-known trout stream, having shot his legal 
number of moose, caribou and red deer, within reach of 
his wigwam in eastern Canada, I succeeded in securing 
a few days for reflection, rest and relaxation amid the 
"toil and moil" of this period of unrest of the nineteenth 
century; I decided to "hark back!" and take a canoe 
voj^age of about 200 miles in a well-known chain of lakes 
in New Brunswick — the Squattick, Toledi, and Temis- 
couata — connected by the Madawaska River. Here 
"At each sweet pause. 
From care and want and toil, • 
When dewy eve her curtain draws 
Over the day's turmoil." 
On the principle of distance lending enchantment to 
the scene, I had previously passed these lakes by on the 
be called. Over hill and dale, and through alder swamp, 
the whole route being through ever-varjdng forest. At 
last, before night set in, the cheering sight of the lake 
caused us to quicken our steps until we reached the spot 
selected for our first camp. 
It is needless to describe the theory and practice (the 
result of experience) of pitching tents (two), collecting 
fir boughs, cuttitig firewood, and settling down for the 
"night. Oh, the delight of the first night in camp. The 
first meal has been a veritable feast. It may consist of 
tlie simplest of camp rations, bttt memories of that meal 
linger long in the heart of man, while the choicest cook- 
ing of New York's palace hotels or its most fashionable 
cltibs is soon forgotten. 
After such a camp repast you lie flat on your back on 
the spruce bough couch; smoke from the fragrant weed 
curls slowly from yoUr mouth; yon build delightful castles 
in the air, ami you are in no hurry to knock them down. 
Here no tumult of sounds, the constant rumble of street 
cars or other motors, the shrieks of peddlers or news- 
boys, or the questionable music of street organ or street 
band, assaults j^our ear. The noiseless moose bird 
perches on the bough above j^our head. Your overtaxed 
brain is relieved from strain; worry lias fled to the winds; 
you are out of reach of telegraph or telephone, news- 
papers, or hourly mail delivery; you are a free man. Oh, 
the delights of freedom in this free country after such 
an evening of repose! Hoav sweet the sleep! How fresh 
the awakening! How fit the physical frame after the 
morning bath and the hearty breakfast. The breaking 
up of camp is not a tedious operation. There is always 
a sigh as you leave behind your picturesque camp; each 
Spot on which you pitch your tent seems niore pictur- 
esque than its predecessor. 
Now we are busy with the welcome paddle in crossing 
this pretty lake, and you wonder why it received so sug- 
this ideal means of transport, a milicete canoe. You 
fish or let it alone at your sweet will. This is the poetry 
of existence. 
Before reaching the lake the stream widens, and is 
less rapid. The waterlily, afliording ample concealment 
for trout, is seen in abundance now in full bloom of 
autumn. Here by long casts from the canoe we picked 
up as many trout— several of them large— aS the nio^t 
ardent admirer of Izaak Walton could desire — and it was 
onl3.' the sun's sinking to rest behind the forest-clad hills 
that reminded us tliat Ave must "fix camp" ere night set 
in. Our camp that night at the head of the lake after a 
day full of enjoyment, ending with a sAvim in the lake, 
was one long to be remembered. 
We Avere desirous of camping next night on the shores 
of Squattick Lake , No, 3, Avithin sight of Sugar Loaf 
Mountain, of Avhich we had heard much regarding its 
beauty, as we had heard much too of the large 
trout in that lake. We therefore broke camp and pushed 
on at an early hoiU* next morning. We had a strong 
head wind, and white men and red plied paddles in vain 
to reach the still AA-aters leading to lake No. 3 before the 
niiddaj^ meal, we were therefore forced to seek shelter 
on the lake shore for that purpose. After the much- 
needed refreshment w.e put on a spurt, and were amply 
rewarded before sun down on suddenly coming in view 
of Sugar Loaf Mountain. Of the many well-known 
European and y\merican bits of mountain scenery none 
have made such a lasting impression on my memory 
as this Sugar Loaf Mountain, Avith the deep forest-clad 
dells and recesses at its base, the most, beautiful of the 
Squattick lakes, studded witn islands beneath and the 
setting sun of early autumn beyond. It required more 
than one call from our guides to detract our atterition 
from the A'iew, and fix it on the fishing grounds we had 
approached. Here we made many casts Avithout success. 
CAMP AT HEAD OF LAKE. 
CAMP AT SUGAR LOAF MOUNTAIN. 
other side without a thought. To these happy fishing 
grounds I bent my steps in September last in search 
of that well-earned rest and relaxation which can best be 
found in forest and stream. 
All sportsmen know b}' heart the preliminary details 
as necessary for the canoe voyage, the autumn moose 
call or the winter still-hunting of caribou or deer; but 
few, however, realize the importance of the proper selec- 
tion of the "companion du voyage" — the comrade in 
tent or wigwam, on barren or in green wood. This has 
been brought prominently forAA^ard in F,orest and 
Stream in the delightful essaj^s on "Men I Have Fished 
With." I can Avith truth say that looking backward 
through a long A'ista of years of the many men I haA'e 
fished with, my "pal," my comrade on this occasion, my 
friend in the hour of need or in the bright sunshine of 
summer day sport was the "survival of the fittest." When 
you combine the qualities of keenest sportsman with the 
rare talents of geologist, entomologist and ornithologist, 
one skilled Avith pen and pencil, ever ready Avith camera 
and kodak, and possessing the never-failing secret of 
"how to keep his temper" under circumstances the most 
trying, you have an ideal man, hard to find, one you are 
loth to part with. Such a man I found, and sad it was 
to say the last farewell, as but recently he sailed with 
his regiment for the West Indies. Let his name here 
be Blank, though it will ever remain fresh in my mem- 
ory. Moreover, we were fortunate in the selection of In- 
dians (two) — Michell and Banard. These we secured at 
the Indian camp near Edmunston. 
We made Edmunston our base of operations. Here 
we secured our supplies; here we obtained the last "tip" 
as to the killing fly for the Squattick lakes; here in the 
"cooperatiA^e store" of the place, where everything from 
s needle to an anchor can be purchased, we learnt of the 
difficulties of the route in prospect. These were paitited 
in the darkest colors, and here one- of our Indians drank 
"success to sport" in the vilest of prohibited liciuors. 
From this point (Edmunston) to Otterburn on Temis- 
couata Railway, thirteen miles, you haA'e your choice 
of means of locomotion, road, river or rail. At Otter- 
burn, howeA^er, you leave all traces of civilization be- 
hind, saA^e the rudely constructed means of transit with 
man and horse, for our two canoes — a sort of bob- sled 
with skis attached, built on the river bank Avhile our 
midday meal Avas being cooked. 
The portage to Mud Lake — prosaic name — is long and 
-tedious, eight miles over tortuous road,, if road it can 
gestive a name as Mud Lake. Soon, too soon, you 
learn how to appreciate the name. The steersman in 
each canoe points to a low mud bank, and again you 
wonder where is the exit. There is an imperceptible pas- 
sage through the bank hidden by interAvoven alders. 
Oh, how interAvoven! Through these in a narroAV stream 
—if stream it can be called — Ave push the canoe, W'e 
push, Ave pull, we drag. Again and again a springy 
alder strikes us on the face or head as it flies back from 
the bow man. My comrade is put to the test, but he 
ncA'er fails to keep his temper. For four Aveary hours 
tills "hide and seek" through alder bushes continues, 
and at last — happily at last — each canoe is carried di- 
rectly westAvard and doAVUAvard by the swift current of a 
clear stream — one with open gravel banks and gently 
rising hills, Llere the graceful elm and the hardy oak 
succeeded the network of alders. We can now breathe 
freely as we glance swiftly down this lovely stream lead- 
ing into Squattick Lake No, 4 to the cheeriest song 
of the now happy canoeist. 
The only thing to be regretted in this part of our 
voyage is that in full cnjoymeirt of rapid transformation 
as compared Avith the sIoav progress of our alder bush 
experience, we passed over Avithout a "try." The gentie 
angler too must be reminded that at this time of year — 
early in September— trout are not "grouped" in pools 
at the mouth of cool springs, as is the case in midsum- 
mer fishing, Avhere large "scores" are made, and where 
the "scales" are often resorted to with the view to the 
record as regards large trotit being broken. No, every 
inch of water, so to speak, had now to be carefully fished 
in order to secure a "bag." We found this the case as 
A\'e pulled up for the midday meal at a lonely spot at a 
bend in the stream — an ideal trout stream. Here we 
fished carefully, but the trout rose short, and it required 
the long cast, and quick striking with frequent change 
of fly to secure enough pan fish (lio large trout) for the 
meal. 
After this delightful brfealc ili the journey (:we--^ere 
loth to leave a spot perfect in picturesqueness and afiford- 
ing fair sport) Ave pushed on in order to reach Squat- 
tick Lake No. 4 before night set in, Hoav wc enjoyed 
this "gently doAvn-stream" experience! No hurry or un- 
due excitement; no train to be caught ;^^no business en- 
gagement to be kept; no ringing up of "Central," to put 
you on the track of some unoffending mortal, Avho, like 
yourself, prefers peace and quiet to the whirligig of busi- 
ness life. No, ,you simply move gently down stream in 
— the fish merely breaking the water to Sport with our 
fl3^ — ^imtil my comrade tried a fly given us by a friend at 
Edmunston, On this he hooked a monster as compared 
with any fish previously taken, I made a similar change 
of fly, Avith similar success, and soon we had fish and 
fishing to our hearts' content. At last we pointed the 
bows of our canoes for the camping grounds, the most 
picturesque beneath the shadoAV of the Sugar Loaf 
Mountain, 
After dreams, in -wliieh otir favorite bits of Swiss 
mountain scenery seemed blended harmoniously with 
angling and anglers of Canada, Ave Avere early astir, to 
return to the sport of the last evening. In our eagerness 
Ave found that wc had long to Avait before the rising 
hour of the slumbering trout. When. lioAvever, that hour 
did arrive wc were anrply rewarded. After a Avell- 
earned breakfast Ave again returned to the favored spot, 
and again "in him" Avas the only audible sound that in- 
terrupted our reverie. A sporting friend with two French 
guides, Avhom we had expected to meet in these parts, 
and Avho had started for this lake from the opposite 
direction, now appeared on the scene, and after friendly 
greetings and comparing of notes wc Avere as a party 
similarly occupied in having excellent sport, Avhen one 
of the guides discoA^ered a splendid specimen of male 
caribou, with wide spread antlers, SAvimming directly 
tOAvard us. The first impulse at such a time is to seize 
one's rifle; the second thought is Avhether it is the close 
season for caribou. Prudent second thoughts preA-ailed 
on this occasion, and we merely admired the scene as 
this denizen of the forest swam proudly across this pic- 
turesque lake, though one canoe pRTty struck ortt, using 
CArery exertion in trying speed Avith the caribou, and 
simultaneously caribou and canoe reached the lake shore, 
AA-hen the proud animal leaped gracefully on the bank 
and was soon lost to sight in the dark forest. 
Fain would we linger long on the shores of this 
lovely lake — I strongly advise the gentle angler not: to 
hurry past such happy fishing grounds. But our limited 
leave of absence necessitated our pushing on; Ave there- 
fore struck camp one bright autumn morning and steered 
our barque for Squattick lakes i and 2, pulling Up to 
fish every likely spot, and we were neither disappointed 
at the sport, nor at the picturesqueness, ever varying, 
of the country through Avhich Ave passed. Our midday 
meal was at the forks, Avhere the Toledi River joins the 
outlet from Squattick lakes. Here we Avere having ex- 
cellent sport with large trout, when a thunderstorm set 
