June 29, igoi.] 
'FOREST 'AND « STREAM* 
BOS 
the bridge. I tried again and got a fine lo inch trout. 
At tlie lower end of the bridge. I lost a better one. My 
line fouled on some brush. But I cast again and got 
one of 9 inches, and found more deligbt iu these three 
than in the dozens of smaller ones. The well browned 
Hakes of these trout was a pretty fair recompense for 
the torment of the sand flies — at least we thus squared 
accounts, as we enjoyed them at the hotel for dinner. 
After dinner we drove to North Bay, up an old water- 
course, that at no distant period was a waterway that 
had connected Lake Nippissing and Trout Lake. We 
"You come to-morrow, I go along; I know place not 
far away, plenty good trout." We agreed to meet him 
at 6 o'clock at the pier and found him there with a mon- 
ster birch bark canoe, and two large pails, in which to 
gather berries. We landed at the mouth ot Du Chasney 
Creek (pronounced as a Dutchman would a Jew, Die 
Shecnie), and it is a beautiful stream, very similar to our 
mountain streams of Pennsylvania. We followed Joe 
over a faint trail around the hill, and heard his assur- 
ance — "Plenty trout, big, too. nice pool, not many go in," 
And in an hour'and a cpiarter we came to the pool which 
PLENTY TROUT, NICE POOL. 
had supper at the Queen's Hotel, North Bay, and had 
the good fortune to meet Edwin C. Shepherd, the hotel 
proprietor's son, and one of the keenest sportsmen in 
Canada. He advised us to try trolling from a very long 
pier down on the lake front. We joined the crowd and 
were soon walking up and down the pier fishing with a 
small copper spoon bait. There were with us two gentle- 
men from Cincinnati, who had just returned from the 
south and had been fishing for tarpon, and were using 
tarpon tackle, and it looked strong enough to reel in a 
calf. 
The fishing was at first sk>Vf, bjlt finally they bit 
furiously. Many of the men and boys of North Bay 
were on the pier fishing, and when they got to biting 
there were fish jumping around on the pier everywhere. 
Two boys, who were baiting with a large-winged 
grasshopper, were catching plenty of fine bass. They 
E. C. Sliepherd. who was my companion, photographed 
wliilc I was crawling out on some driftwood. . 
The Algonquin's Secret. 
We cast across the pool into a whirling eddy by the 
roots of some birches, and as ray bait beat up and down — • 
for I am not a fly-fisherman— I hooked a half-pounder of 
great beauty and soon had three others a trifle smaller. 
Below the rapids I had caught a dozen or more fine trout 
when Lidian Joe caine back with a pail of delicious red 
raspberries he had gathered beyond a marsh. He seemed 
a trifle disappointed that we had not done better; but I 
was delighted. He fried us some fish and boiled our 
tea, while we caught more trout. After dinner we worked 
our way to the upper De Chasney Falls, where we found 
still better trout than the best we had found here. We 
worked our way home and arrived at the mouth of the 
UPPER DE CHASNEY FALLS. 
each had a string of a half dozen that would go 3 pounds 
apiece. The Cincinnati man, who had been fishing for 
tarpon earlier and had his tackle in use here, found it 
answered well on muscallunge. I found splendid bass, 
pike and pickerel fishing without having to go further . 
than the Government wharf, at the lower end of town. 
This was the day on which the Government agent 
was in North Bay to pay the Indians a pension of $7 per 
year, and the town was full of Chippewa Indians from 
the Bocage Reservation, a . few miles west of North 
Bay. Among the lot was an Algonquin named Joe 
T<eenie, from whom I learned that the same jealousies 
and envies annoy the Indians that prevail ahiong the 
palefaces. Because he was not a Chippewa Indian the 
Chippewa chief at Bocage had -protested ]oe.'s claim as 
well as that of his mother and brothers; hehce the usual 
$35 was not forthcoming to Joe and„ his ^-(arnily. ; Ed 
Shepherd and I sympathized with lum and-'Jii' became . 
communicative when told we.^BrQP!^'4^' 'Xtfl^ hdHC' frtwt-on • 
the morrow. "• ■ ■ ■ " , - 
De Chasney in time to photograph the ambitious 
structure Joe had hewn from pine logs, and a trough 
roof, as seen in the picture. There was no floor. A lad- 
der led up to the loft, where some deer skins and a bear's 
hide await the fur trader. Old Mrs. Reenie, Joe's mother, 
who stands in the doorway, is reputed to be about 90 
years old, but still does her own gardening and tends 
to her cow and pigs. While Shepherd arranged the 
camera I reached in through a broken pane and lifted 
Joe's gun out and posed in the picture as a brave man 
with a gun. 
On Thursday morning, at 5. A. M., we started on a 
jonrney of twenty miles northwest, along the Govern- 
ment road, to i\nderson Lake. The various hangers on 
about the Queen's Hotel assured us this lake was the 
only place in Canada to go for trout, where you would 
always be sure of enjoying the real thing. We had a 
good' horse and made good time, albeit the road was 
rough. The town soon faded from view as we reached 
the "timber countr>\ We held our course direct north- 
west past the city water tanks, and about 10 o'clock we 
unhitched the horse at the end of the road. Here we 
had to pack our stuff a mile and a half over an abomina- 
tion of rough country, to the lake. Several fallen trees 
caused us annoyance. 
On a nice dry knoll above the lake we cut some poles, 
leaned them on a large rock, and made ourselves a rude 
hut by covering with a good, thick coat of pine branches, 
making it as thick as possible to afford us some little 
protection against the mosquitoes. We made our bed 
by gathering pine branches. When our camp was well 
under way we had dinner. I have always found it the 
most prudent to get ready for sleeping before any fishing 
is done. Nothing is more unwise than to leave off until 
darkness the pitching the tent and providmg a bed. 
After dinner we hunted up a boat that was hidden in a 
bay lieai; camp. We rowed northeast along the shore 
to the mouth of Little Jocko Creek, the lake being 
formed by Little Jocko and Jocko, and is drained by 
Antoine Creek into Lake Nippissing. We tried at the 
mouth of Little Jocko. The soprt surpassed anything 
previous that I had experienced in the way of fishing. 
Shepherd caught three trout that would average 2 
pounds apiece, and I caught numerous trout that would 
rate as record breakers in Pennsylvania. We could care 
for only a few, so we threw all others back into the water, 
that those who come after may enjoy just as good sport 
as did we. In this North Bay region there are many 
places where trout may be taken, and I visited many of 
these points, including streams on the north shore of 
Trout Lake, Four Mile Creek, De Chasney and other 
places, *and there was nothing that compared with An- 
derson Lake. At sunset we came home and had supper 
and made some further preparation around the camp — 
reinforced the pine branches on the roof and sides of 
our brush tent, for angry clouds to the southwest fore- 
told a rain that came about 10 o'clock. Shepherd pro- 
nounced it a fearful storm, and awful thunder and light- 
ning, but compared with what I have seen in the_ 
mountains of Pennsylvania, where about thirty miles of 
the heavens seem to crack open with an appalling crash 
that would surely end all things human, this seemed tame. 
The rain fell steadily for hours and added to our comfort 
by keeping the mosquitoes away, although this house 
of leaves was too damp for pure delight. 
The next morning the sun rose back of the big pines 
and his golden light filtered through, prophetic of a 
grand day to come. All morning we tried for trout, and 
though the fishing was not so good as the day before, 
nevertheless I did not complain. To single out any one 
battle with a big trout is difficult when so many expe- 
riences crowd in'upon my mind, and I will not attempt it. 
At 2 -o'clock we harnessed the roan, worked our way 
back to the road, and started on our long journey to 
North Bay thus ending an experience so full of delight 
that I shair dream of it by day and by night continually 
until I fold mv rod and wrap up my reel to cross the 
dark river on whose banks so many of us tremble when 
we think there may be no mountain streams, no purling 
brooks, nor leaping trout on the other shores; still they 
would never call it "That better land" if it hadn't. 
James M. Norrts. 
.^LLKOHENY, Pa., May 22. 
Poke-o-Moonshine. 
Boston June 22. — Editor Forest and Stream: I am 
indebted to Mr. Raymond S. Spears for his friendly and 
interesting response to my query about the meaning of 
the name Poke-o-Moonshine, as applied to some Adiron- 
dack and Maine mountains and brooks. The difficulty as 
to his suggestion that it is of Spanish origin is to knovv 
why the name should travel so far into the northeast of 
nur country, and why it sholud attach itself to features 
of the landscape. I think the derivation from the word 
"pokerish" and with the idea of some one poking about m 
a difficult country in faint moonshine has a little more 
verisimilitude. . 
I like Mt. Spears' suggestion of a dictionary of wood 
terms. Many a term entirely familiar and well known in 
one locality is utterlv unknown in another, as. for ex- 
ample, the' word "logan." familiar to any person who 
knows the Maine woods, but, as Mr. Spears says, utterly 
unknown to him. Letme sav for his benefit that so far 
from having anv reference to a logging rock, or rocking 
stone it refers to water, and particularly to a little bay 
or "dead water," such as. is frequently found leading off 
from some sluggish stream in the Maine woods, and often 
necessitating a wide detour on the part of one who is 
following the bank of the .stream on foot._ in which case 
the person is said to have "got loganned." 
I am thankful to Mr. Spears for his attempt to help me 
out with Poke-o-Moonshine. and hope that some one else 
will come to the front with the unmistakable meaning. 
Let me add to this note that W. Wade, whose note on 
breeding the wild pigeon appears in the same number of 
your paper, seems to have very carelessly read both my 
own communication on this subject and the letter of 
Prof. C. O. Whitman which accompanied it. 
Mr. Wade suggests that Prof, Whitman's poor suc- 
cess in breeding wild pigeons is due to the fact that his 
breeding stock is infertile from too intense inbreeding, 
and he advises Prof. Whitman to procure a cock pigeon 
from some other source than the one his stock came 
from. , 
Now Prof. Whitman's letter specifically states : 'i have 
tried in many ways to obtain one or more new birds, so as 
to strengthen the reproductive power which seems to 
weaken as the result of long inbreeding. I am afraid it 
is almost hopeless, for only a few scattered pairs seem to 
be left in the country, and no one is likely to succeed in 
capturing a bird alive." 
Again he says: "If I could get one new bird I should 
soon have a flock of fifty," and this last remark I re- 
peated in ray letter. C. H. Ames. 
The Final Argument. — "\^es. he's a fine dog, Uncle 
'Rastus, and I'd like to own hiin, but your price is a little 
too high." "Bettah git 'im while yo' kin. Cunnel Hawkins. 
Mistah Peahpont Mawgan might Want to buy him some o' 
dese days, an' den whah'd you bet"' — Chicago Tribune. 
