4 
Afltiipjif any fel'llfi^. This country stretcH^^ ^fottl hef^ i6 
tHfe Niobrara Rtver, and after we tross tlife Dismal River 
we -will follow the Middle Loup right through these Sand - 
hills to the other side, v/here We tvill- come out at the, 
Pine llidge countrjf, and that is the last outlying spur of 
the Black Hills, where they peter out and come down to 
the level of the grass comitry. From there the hills 
get higher and higher, until you get up near Deadwood, 
then they begin to slope the other way again. You will 
see all these things as you go along." 
"Ain't they any water 'n these sand-hills, only where 
the rivers cut through?" 
"Yes, they are full of little lakes of the finest kind of 
water, and in season they are alive with ducks and geese. 
It's a great game country all through — plenty of deer 
and antelope and a good many elk in parts yet. It used 
to be a great buffalo country, too, hut they are all gone 
further west or northwest now, and what few are left 
are pretty wild. It's a Sioux country, too, so we may 
have a chance to see what a war party looks like before 
we get back." 
"Well, I dunno 's I'm lookin' fer any Injuns to speak 
of, 'n' I didn't come out here to do any scrimmagin' 
'round 'mongst 'm, but I reckon we kin show 'em some 
fun if they come 'round lookin' fer a fuss." 
There was a jolly smile on the boy's face while he 
spoke, but there was a glitter in his eye and a flush of 
color on his cheek too, and I knew how well he could 
shoot, so I concluded it would be pretty unhealthy for a 
small war party of Indians if they met those repeaters of 
ours in a fair open fight — ^the boy would be apt to think he 
had struck a diversion and shoot and laugh at the same 
time — ^he was built that way, and was a Western boy, 
who naturally figured on a good Indian being a dead 
one. 
However, no one got our scalps and no war bonnets 
came within our range of vision on the trip, and the boy 
found plenty of new and wonderful things to keep him 
busy asking questions, and me equally busy explaining. 
It would take too much space to tell you how he thought 
a soap root was a kind of„a palm tree, "er palm bush, 
4ike," as he expressed it, and how a mirage fooled him 
into looking for a lake one afternoon, how he wondered 
what horned toads lived on and was puzzled about what 
kind of a bird a young curlew was — ^lie "reckoned it 
might be some kind o' a ostridge cr somp'n o' that 
breed, on'y they wasn't no ostridges in th' United States, 
t' he ever heard of 'ceptin' them 't was brought here fr'm 
Africky." 
He even went out and climbed among the sand dunes 
the first night we camped on the edge of the sand-hill 
country, just to satisfy himself what kind of sand they 
were made of. He was an inquisitive, wide-awake, grow- 
ing boy, with a thirst for travel and the knowledge it 
brings with it in those days, and gave no promise of de- 
\reloping into the staid, steady man of to-day, who talks 
good English, albeit there may be a good Western word 
crop out now and then w-heri he gets into a thoughtful 
mood and talks of the days that are gone, when we have 
watched the golden sun sinlc into the purple west and 
leave tiie sky a burning wilderness of color against which 
our white-tilted wagon stood in bold relief and our camp 
smoke twisted a thin blue spiral. El Comancho. 
In Canadian Woods, 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I have not had a word to say to you or your readers 
for a long time. My all-summer, every-day experiences 
in canoeing, camping, fishing, etc., seemed not worth re- 
porting, however interesting to the participants. We had 
a very pleasant and busy summer, hut nothing at all oiit 
of the ordinary until in September I made a trip to some 
waters little or not at all known to me up to that time. 
The story of this even will, I fear, be commonplace and 
uninteresting to outsiders, but you shall have it. 
The passengers were my young friend Merrill and my- 
self. The crew consisted of Pierre Kiolet, guide and sail- 
ing master; Hippolyte (Poleet for short), now ten years 
in my employ, and Eugene, a new hand. The start was 
the usual one, across Lake Clair, down the 250ft. clifT to 
Lake Long, where the two canvas canoes were in readi- 
ness, up that lake, up its inlet to Lake Montauban, up an- 
other shallow and crooked stream to and then across Lake 
Nicholas, three and a half hours' steady paddling at the 
best. We had expected to meet another man at a certain 
point, but he was not there. Dinner and waiting for him 
used up two hours. I knew he must have had good 
reason for disappointing us, and this we afterward found 
to be the case. He might have served as guide or canoe- 
man, but for heavy portaging, which was what we wanted 
of him, he was entirely incapacitated. A few years ago I 
would have backed him against any man I ever knew for 
that work, but those days are past. 
So we went on without him. 
One thing surprised me. Pierre, with a stroke that 
seemed to cause him no exertion, and that he could keep 
up for hours at a stretch, got his canoe along as fast as 
the two others, who were no more heavilj^ loaded than he. 
His two passengers were useless. The young man, im- 
used to such labor, would have been completely^ ex- 
hausted in ten minutes, and the old one had been positive- 
ly forbidden by the power behind the throne either to 
paddle or carry. Poleet was strictly charged to see 
that this order was obeyed, which he did. Now either 
Poleet or Eugene weighed 15 or 2olbs. more than Pierre, 
and Poleet we know is good for a lift of 400 or soolbs. 
any time. He reminds me sometimes of Porphos in 
■'Vingt ans Apres," where he raises a stone that seven 
men could not stir. When we are handling hea^^ tim- 
bers and two or three men are fooling around and not 
half trying to lift, he pushes them away, saying, "Laches, 
taissps venir le h'onhonime ," or, as we might say, "Get 
out of the way. Let your uncle take hold," and up comes 
the stick. But, except for an occasional spurt, the two 
Gould not get ahead. Of course, this is the result of life- 
long habit and experience. Pierre is a lialf-brced, and 
inherits the good instead of the bad qualities^ of both 
faces. Once, before I knew him much, T asked if he was 
a good canoeman. The reply was. "Sacre, U elait elcvc 
ta de dans (Sacre. he was brought up in one.) When 
I tried him, his handling of a canoe was almost a revela- 
tion to me. 
AHoihei' thing i k&l rioted k th> ^firitfifitf f?f ^b^f^^ 
and energy ih'at ont visitors ptit iijto an oat at a paddle 
Ivhen they lake one, as compared with the regdlarly em- 
ployed men. The regulars expect to work all day and 
not be too tired to dance or frolic half the night while 
the transients work to get the job done. It happens that 
many of my visitors are professional nieri, who perhaps 
were college athletes in their day, though How long out of 
training. When they put a paddle into the water the 
canoe jumps. Once in a while we get hold of a younger 
man, who is still more or less in athletic form. Poleet 
knows what to do with those. He gives them the bow of 
the canoe and lets them work, while he sits in the 
stern, making believe to paddle, but doing nothing except 
steer. 
But where was I? 
At the far side of Lake Nicholas we "took to the 
woods." With our loads we had to make two trips on 
each portage, of which there were three before reaching 
Lac a la Truite, one up hill and long, the other two 
.shorter, but through swamps, with mud to our knees. 
We took the precaution to get a canoe and fishing tackle 
over first, so that Merrill and I might get some trout for 
supper, which we did, enough far the party. Nothing 
extraordinary, an average of about -J^lb. By the time 
we had done thjs the men had got the baggage over and 
the tents set up, and in the beastliest kind of a place. No 
getting in or out without climbing over a stump, but it 
was too late to change. 
It was just then and there that Jupiter Pluvius took 
charge of the weather department and administered it 
without the slightest regard to our wishes or to any of 
our remarks. We worried him a little by turning a 
canoe up side down, supporting it on some forked sticks 
and hanging some of our clothing under it. As for the 
rest of our clothes — well, they were wet anyway. 
Next morning early we started Pierre o£i to a. settle- 
ment six or seven miles away for another man, the rest 
following later. We reached our agreed meeting place 
on the River a Pierre about noon, and a couple of hours 
later Pierre came with his man, who proved a very good 
one. Rain? Why, yes. of course' it rained, but it didn't 
quite exactly pour until about the time Pierre arrived. 
As one of our old camping grounds was near by and all 
ready for use, we decided not to try to go further that 
day. The tents were pitched in a regular downpour, 
which never let up till toward evening. A jolly big 
fire dried us out in part during the night, and the next 
morning was fair. 
We started a little late, going down the Pierre and mak- 
ing three portages,. not very long nor very bad, though 
requiring two trips each. Instead of following the Pierre 
to its moiith as I have done before, we went across coun- 
try, reaching the Batiscan River a couple of miles or so 
further up. This was a good two hours' very hard walk- 
ing, but we cached a part of our provisions and made only 
one trip. 
But here Ave met our mishap. Arrivuig at the bank of 
the Batiscan, my young friend came limping up from the 
rear and reported that he had just stumbled and fallen 
into a hole 'and strained a ligament, already once in- 
jured in a football game. This was a serious matter, and 
how serious he knew far better than I. The poor fel- 
low said but little, but he knew that the trip that he had 
anticipated with so much pleasure for the last two weeks 
was ended, and that recovery even with the best care 
would be an affair of weeks and possibly of months. And 
here he was in the wilderness with no knowledge of how 
he could get out short of being carried back bodily over 
the road we had just passed. Knowing less about such 
accidents, I did not at once realize how serious this was, 
and still hoped that a day or two of rest would set him to 
rights. We were two miles or more below our intended 
camping ground, and the river here is almost a cojitinu- 
ous rapid. After a little rest and a light lunch, we got 
the poor chap into a canoe, and Pierre and Poleet paddled 
and poled us up to our destination. It was hard work, and 
all of Pierre's skill and dexterity in liandling a canoe were 
brought into requisition. The other men succeeded at 
length in getting all the baggage up safely, though with a 
great deal of trouble, for the river, although mostly rapid 
as a sluiceway, was in many places very shallow and 
fuh of boulders of all sizes. They grounded often, arid 
finally reached the shore with several inches of water in 
their canoe. Here, at the foot of the Rapid a Thifant, our 
tents were soon set up, and after helping Merrill to band- 
age his knee, Pierre and I pushed out for some trout. I 
had no such luck as I have had there before, one story of 
which I told in Forest and Stream some years ago, 
though I got what trout the party could eat. 
The next day was Sunday and no work was done, ex- 
cept to make a pair of crutches for Merrill and a couple 
of men went in the afternoon and brought up the provi^ 
sions we had left behind the day before. 
There was a question whether we should all turn back 
with Merrill or arrange to have him go alone, which was 
quite possible. He decided it. Although he could not 
walk, except a very little on his crutches, he had no pain 
and was quite able to care for himself. We were within 
four or five hours of the lake that was the immediate ob- 
jective point of our expedition, and he would not hear of 
my turning back. He would either stay where he was with 
one of the men while I went to the lake with the others 
and came back, or he would go down the river to the 
nearest railroad station with two of the men, who would 
leave him and come back to me. I could then go on and 
follow the route we had intended to go together. The 
lake was without a name, except the common one of Lac 
a la Truite, or Trout Lake, and we had agreed that when 
we arrived there we would rechristen it with the name of 
a certain young lady. I had for years wanted to visit 
it, and a year and a half before had sent up by the lurnber- 
men's winter roads a canoe and some tinned provisions, 
hoping to go there in the following summer. In winter 
it could be reached with comparative ease, but in summer 
the route we were taking was the most feasible one. I 
had heard extraordinary stories of the trout in that lake 
from two of my intimate friends, who had come on it 
when caribou hunting, and I had once tried it myself in 
winter — under a special authorization from the Govern- 
ment, as regarding fishing laws — with most encouraging 
results. Now I wanted to throw a fly on it, in all prob- 
ability the first man to do so. The only advantage to 
Merrill in our turning back would be that we should bear 
hlhi eompatit for a few houfs* It ^as de'Rided rfi«t 1. 
should go oih 
Monday tttorning we put him nicely into a Catjoe and 
started hirti off. It was six iniles or more down that 
Mecharite Riviere (wicked river), the Batiscan, with 
many small rapids to be run, besides that — ^to me — very 
ugly one, Les Trois Roches. But with Pierre and Hip- 
polyte I had no fear, Pierre having positively promised 
me that he would take no risks, and while Poleet was no 
such a canoeman as Pierre, he was strong and able, and 
I knew that I could rely on his faithfulness. 
The disappointment was hard on poor Merrih, and his 
eyes were not dry when I gave him the parting hand- 
shake. Were mine? I cannot say. They are old and 
weak at the best. 
I reckoned up the time I thought the trip should take 
and began to look for the canoe at ii o'clock. At 12 I 
began to be uneasy. At i I sent a man to the opposite 
shore, from which one could see further down the river. 
Once he came back and reported nothing in sight. I sent 
him again, to a point still further away. It was not un- 
til after 2 that I saw the welcome signal that a canoe 
was coming. 
All had gone well except for some delays on shore. The 
passable rapids had been safely run and the impassable one 
portaged, Poleet carrying Merrill on his back. He was 
left in the care of acquaintances of mine, who would put 
him on the train and see that he wanted for nothing. 
Some ladies to whom he had telegraphed of his return 
met him on the way, and he was under a friendly roof that 
same evening. 
While Pierre and Poleet were taking their dinners the 
rest of us struck camp, putting nearly all the baggae into 
Pierre's canoe, the other we hid in the woods. Pierre 
poled his canoe a mile and a half up the rapids, declining- 
help, while we walked through the woods with only 
trifling loads, arriving at the designated point a few min- 
utes after him. Here the portage promised to be a hard 
one, and there was a dispute about loads, in the midst of 
which Pierre picked up his canoe, axe and rifle and went 
about his business, leaving the others to settle affairs as 
thc}"^ liked.. The discussion was not bitter, being more as 
to how three men could carry five men's loads than how 
any man could avoid taking his full share. I was at 
length obliged to interfere, a thing not often necessary. 
The road proved indeed even harder than we ex- 
pected. It was up hill, of course, and followed a long 
disused lumberman's road, crossing and .recrossing a 
score of times a Laurentian Mountain stream from which 
the bridging had been carried off or had rotted away. 
Many readers of Forest and Stream know what these 
streams are, and have passed through these same ex- 
periences time and time again. Ours were not worse than 
hundreds of others, probably not much worse than the 
average. We endured no serious hardships, nothing 
worse than discomfort and hard work. These any man 
who goes into the woods for pleasure must expect lo 
meet — and enjoy. 
In about half an hour we rejoined Pierre, quietly 
waiting and smoking. Eugene came up last, grumbling 
and swearing at things in general. His load was rather 
lighter than the others, but not being willing to take the 
advice of more experienced men, he could never get it to 
ride well. All the loads were indeed too heavy for such 
rough ground, where a slip or a misstep might mean a 
broken leg or worse. I had from the first advised making 
two trips — never liking to see a free horse driven to 
death — but all the men preferred trying to do it all in one. 
There was as much more of this same kind of ground to 
be got over, and the' afternoon was advanced. A per- 
emptory order was given that all stores beyond a day's 
supply shotfld be left behind. 
With lightened loads we went on cheerily, although 
Eugene continued to grumble and swear until it became 
necessary that he should be "sot on," after which his usual 
good humor returned. By and by Pierre struck off into 
the woods, and we presently came to a more level coun- 
try and more practicable road. It was nearlj' dark be- 
fore we came near enough to the lake to see trout rising in 
the distance, and too dark before Pierre and I could get 
equipped for them to do more than take a few for our 
supper, none very large. We ate them by the light of our 
camp-fire, after which I formally renamed the lake, as 
well as proxy for my unfortunate young friend as for my- 
self. My lent had been set up, but the men slept in an 
old lumber camp, a kind of accommodation that of late 
years, having had experience, I avoid whenever possible. 
For the last two days we had had but little rain, al- 
though getting heavy showers at night, and this night 
was no exception. We had thunder, lightning and rain in 
abundance. In the morning Pierre and I were out early, 
but had no great sport. Later he and I with Simeon went 
to the other end of the lake to look for the canoe and 
provisions I had sent up a year and a half before. The 
lake is a very pretty one, some two miles in length and 
half a mile wide, with pleasant looking shores, and being 
on the top of the dividing ridge between two rivers ; the 
mountains about it are not very high. We found the 
canoe all right, stored as directed, but the tin boxes had 
been opened, and except the hard tack, which was as* good 
as ever, everything was spoiled. Nothing had been 
taken, and we judged the opening had been done in search 
of liquor. My experiment of keeping cooked pork in 
hermetically sealed boxes failed on this account. I had 
:iot placed too much reliance on its success. 
There is another smaller lake about half a mile away 
according to our maps, where the trout are said to be even 
larger and more plentiful than in this one, and I had 
proposed to go there. But by this time the sun was blaz- 
ing out red hot, and there were heavy white clouds in the 
west. Moreover, I was either lazy or tired, or both, so I 
contented myself, while Pierre was gumming up the old 
canoe a bit, with sending Simeon to investigate the port- 
age: I do not know how far he went, but he returned and 
reported that the lake was a good deal further away than 
we had thought, and that the road was swampy and very 
bad. We returned to camp, where we arrived just in time 
to escape the worst of a heavy shower. Pierre took his 
rifle and went off to try and find a short cut to a point on 
our further journey. He came back late in the afternoon 
unsuccessful, the ground being wet and rough. But he 
reported finding a great lot of very fine timber, which was 
of more importance. We heard several shots, but he 
brought in no partridges, at which he was greatly cha- 
