S64 
it with, a dexterous move of his paddle. We reached 
Bear Island and landed on the dock in front of the 
residence of the Hudson Bay Factor, Mr. Wood, who 
was there to receive us and kindly took us to his home, 
while the guides put our tents in shape. 
There are a number of Indian families living on Bear 
Island, besides the Hndson Bay Company's factor. 
The homes of these families, with the company's two 
store rooms and the buildings tor the use of the fire 
rangers, makes quite a settlement. We had eaten the 
last of our bread for breakfast, and were almost out of 
bacon and butter. Mr. Wood took us to the store 
room, and we bought a can of corn for supper and a 
small piece of bacon. This is another advantage in 
gomg out this way, we could procure fresh supplies 
near the end of the trip when we were short of pro- 
visions. Mr. Wood keeps a register of all visitors to 
the island, and our names vvefe added to the list. This 
book is very interesting, for some of the visitors com- 
ment quite freely on their experiences, and we found 
some names we knew. We bought a pound of butter 
from an Indian woman, and light, well-baked bread 
from another. These houses were neat and clean, and 
the windows were draped with white muslin curtains. 
One of the women had a legister, and we wrote our 
names for her. 
The Ojibway Paradise is an ideal one for Temagami 
Lake, its islands and surroundings are very picturesque. 
From Bear Island you look out over a wide expanse 
of clear, blue water to a broken shore line, miles away. 
The shores and islands are covered with stately pines, 
whose beautiful, dark green foliage is set off by the 
yellow greens and browns of the cedar that fringes the 
islands to the water's edge. Temagami is a large lake 
lying about 1,200 feet above sea leveh and has an out- 
let on the north, south, east and west. To go down 
the south arm and follow the Temagami and Sturgeon 
rivers to Sturgeon Falls, where a train can be taken 
for home, makes quite a cruise, and is not an impracti- 
cal way out. Another way out is through Obabika 
Lake and river, but this route is not practical on ac-^ 
count of low water and driftwood. 
Mr. Wood had a black bear cub about six months 
old. It was a beautiful animal and quite a pet. There 
are a number of cows on the island and two horses. 
They could tie calves and take them in a boat, but I 
did not see how they got horses in there. 
' ,Mr. McLaughlin, the chief fire marshal of this dis- 
trict, invited us over to the rangers' house for the 
evening. The wind was cold, and we were glad to 
gather round the stove in the rangers' kitchen instead 
of round a camp fire. The rain poured down in the 
night, and it blew so hard I thought our tent would 
go, but it had been well put up. It was not raining in 
the morning and the wind had fallen, but the weather 
was not very promising, and we were undecided as to 
what was best to do. We had seen but little of Tema- 
gami and knew the trip up the North Arm to Devil's 
Mountain was well worth taking, but the weather .was 
bad and likely to get worse. We had expected to get 
home on the 15th of September, and to do so, must 
get the Saturday boat on Temiscaming, which we de- 
cided to do. Mr. Wood treated us with the greatest 
consideration, doing everything he could to make our 
stay on the island pleasant. . 
By the time we were ready to start the wind was 
rising, and we found the lake quite rough, in places 
choppy, and where we had. a head wind the work was 
hard and progress slow. We crossed the mouth of 
Ko-ko-ko Bay — an Indian name meaning a kind of 
small owl — and entered the east arm of Temagami 
Lake. A short distance down this Sam said, "That 
looks like two deer swimming accross to the island 
ahead of us; paddle for aU you're worth. Bob, and we'll 
see them." The deer reached the island first and we 
saw them go ashore, then we paddled swiftly around to 
the other side, and there stood the buck ready to swim 
across to the mainland. He stood an instant and 
looked at us, then turned back and plunged into the 
bush. Keeping on around the island, we saw the doe 
looking through the bushes just ready to come down 
to the water. They were beautiful creatures, and we 
were very close to both of them.- When we had gone 
some distance we looked back and saw one of them 
swirnming back to the shore from which they started. 
This arm of Temagami would average a mile or 
raope in width, and from Bear Island to the end of it, is 
a . distance of from seventeen to twenty miles. The 
wind was very high, but we were traveling with it, and 
our canoe rode the big waves with ease. It was a 
splendid ride, full of life' and exhilaration, and be- 
lieving that our guides would not become panic struck 
in case of danger, but would know what to do and do 
it, we enjoyed it to the utmost. A black cloud that 
hung in the west gave us some uneasiness for awhile, 
but it drifted to the north. We pulled round a point, 
on which there was a little bark cabin, into quiet water. 
Here we saw a party of tourists in their canoes, ap- 
parently undecided whether to pull out into Temagami 
or not. We reached the portage and cooked and ate 
our dinner in front of a shelter house on the other end. 
We had made good time. The guides estimated that, 
from the time it took them to paddle the distance in 
calm water, the wind had carried us from five to six 
miles. Crossing two or three short portages and sev- 
eral small lakes, we reached White Bear Lake. All 
through this country the dead pine trees, that have not 
shed their bark, are covered with a long, gray moss 
called caribou nioss, making them look like old, gray- 
whiskered sentinels. It smells not unlike new hay, and 
the moose eat it in the winter. , , , 
From White Bear Lake a cham of lakes can be fol- 
lowed to Friday Lake and the Montreal River, and so 
back to Haileybury. This is quite a pretty trip, and 
there is good bass tishing all the way. We did not have 
time to visit the Indian village, but crossed White Bear 
Lake, made a short portage to a small lake, from 
which we reached Rabbit Lake. This lake is V-shaped, 
and in wiftdy weather there is a head wind on either 
one arm of the lake or the other. We reached the 
lake late in the afternoon, and the wind was falling, but 
the waves were high. We decided to push on as far as 
we could that night, and by the time we reached the 
point the wind had entirely gone, and we pushed on to 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
the end of the lake above Rabbit Chute. Rabbit Rock, 
from which the lake gets its name, is on this point, and 
bears a striking resemblance to a monster rabbit. Be- 
foie we reached the end of the lake . 
"The sun in his robe of glory, 4 
Had glided down the west, 
And, reaching his couch of splendor. 
He silently sank to rest." 
The gorgeous color from the setting sun overspread 
the whole landscape, and we were floating on a lake 
on fire from the setting sun. It was a superb display 
of light and color. 
We reached the end of the lake about dark; found 
a charming camp with table, benches and lots of pine 
for beds, so cooked and ate our supper by moonlight. 
It was a beautiful night, and we lay down on our bed 
of pine boughs and were lulled to sleep by the voices 
of the night that whispered softly to us in the tree 
tops. 
The next morning we started early, for, while we had 
made a long run the day before, the long, hard portages 
were yet to' come. Just below camp we entered the 
Matabitouan River, which is full of boulders, and 
we had to steer very carefully for awhile. Rabbit 
Chute is very wild and rugged, the water rushes through 
a split- in the rock and goes down over a series of 
falls and rapids. This is a long portage, but the guides 
were carrying everything over on one trip. If we had 
started in this way they would have had to make two 
trips over each of" these long portages, thus losing much 
valuable time. There were numerous shallow rapids 
where we walked along the shore, and the guides led 
the canoe down with, its light load. 
On one portage we clung to the side of the hill for 
at least a mile and a quarter. 
Just before we stopped for dinner we passed the 
camp of a party of men from Pittsburg and Allegheny. 
They were breaking camp, intending to take the morn- 
ing boat on Temiscaming. Sam had shot two grouse 
on one of the portages that morning. These he cooked 
with an onion and- served a whole grouse to each of 
us, regardless of our protests. They were fine, and it 
is needless to add we ate them all. 
After giving the canoe a. hot application we con- 
tinued on our journey, and soon landed on the end of 
the Mountain Portage. Here we found trunks, boxes 
of canned goods and boxes of other things, suit cases, 
satchels, tents, a wagon and two horses. Mr. Bonner, 
at the mouth of the Montreal River, was going to haul 
this camp outfit to his place, where the club would take 
the boat in the morning. Mr. Bonner had brought their 
duffle this far up the river, and they had taken it in 
canoes as far up the river as they could and there put 
up their tents. Properly equipped, they could have 
reached Lady Evelyn Lake, by way of Haileybury, with 
less trouble. Here they would have had fine bass fish- 
ing, beautiful surroundings, an opportunity to reach 
many dif?erent lakes by taking one day trips, and could 
have gotten supplies if needed. 
The length of the mountain portage depends on 
which way you are going and the weight of your load. 
If going up stream with a heavy load the carry is 
nearer two miles than one, but if down stream with a 
light load, the carry is "about one mile. We took our 
duffle and started up the mountain. The grade is not 
very steep and the path is good. Near the top of the 
mountain we came out of the bush on a large flat 
rock, and before us lay one of the grandest views we 
ever beheld. On our extreme right towered Bald Rock 
Mountain, bare and alone; then came Temiscaming in 
its calm and sleeping beauty, with a broken line of blue 
hills away beyond; and there lay Bronson's farm, with 
its spacious white frame dwelling, its big white barn 
and well-kept outbuildings, its broad meadows, grain 
fields and pasture lands, with their herds of cattle; then 
another glimpse of Temiscaming away to the north, on 
our extreme left. This farm was not down in a valley 
but lay well up on a plateau, and its fertile fields, with 
every evidence of wealth, stood in marked contrast 
with Old Baldy and its desolate surroundings. 
From this rock the mountain falls away abruptly, and 
there are two portages. One is steep and in wet weather 
dangerous, the other one not so steep but much longer. 
The guides took all our duffle and went down the steep 
path, but we walked over the long one. The water was 
very low, and the canoe had to be led a good part of 
the way, so we reached the end of the portage before 
they did. From this on till we reached the Montreal 
River, we were constantly coming to shallow rapids, 
where we were in danger of scraping the patch off the 
bottom of our canoe. 
The Matabitouan River empties into the Montreal 
a short distance above its mouth, and when we reached 
the Montreal our canoe trip was about over. When 
we came out into Temiscaming the guides pulled 
ashore in front of Bonner's house and unloaded the 
canoe for the last time. We had completed a canoe 
cruise of tvvo hundred and fifty miles, in which eleven 
miles of carrying had been done. On the regular tour- 
ist route there is only about five miles of carrying. 
Mr. Bonner gave us permission to put our tents up 
in his front yard, and that night we slept on a bed of 
dried pea vines. While the guides were putting things 
in shape for the night, we followed a trail that brought 
us to the Devil's Notch, a gorge on the Montreal 
River, from twelve to twenty feet wide with sheer walls 
of rock from forty to a hundred feet high, through 
which the water boils after coming over a long rapid. 
When we got back to Bonner's the club had arrived 
and were packing up their belongings for the night, 
having procured supper, breakfast and lodging at Bon- 
ner's. 
It blew a perfect gale that night, and the ram came 
down in torrents. With every gust of wind I thought 
our tent would go and, from the thundering of the 
waves on the beach, I expected to see them running 
mountains high, with the steamer tied up at Ville 
Marie. But the tent stood, and the steamer came in 
the morning only a half hour late. 
When the steamer came the wind had fallen and the 
rain was only a drizzle. Anchoring out in the lake 
the captain sent the pointer ashore, and trunks, boxes, 
duffle bags, satchels and passengers were taken aboard. 
IMaV 9, tm- 
We had bid farewell to two as painstaking, reliable and 
chivalrous guides as ever pitched a tent. 
The seals in the pointer were so wet that most of 
the passengers preferred the standing room. The 
wind was so cold we were glad to stay in the cabin, 
and, reaching Temiscaming dock about noon, we went 
to the hotel, changed our clothes, got dinner, packed 
our trunk and boarded the south bound train on the 
Temiscaming branch about three o'clock, reaching 
Pittsburg, without further incident, Monday morning, 
Sept. 16. 
"Away from the dwellings of careworn men, 
The waters are sparkling in grove and glen; 
Away from the chambers and sullen hearth, 
The green leaves are dancing in breezy mirth." 
A. W. C. 
"Fine Tfout Fishing— Not." ' 
In last week's number A. W. C. related how she had 
found at McPherson Lake this legend left by some un- 
known party which had preceded her own. Hardly had 
that number of Forest and Stream found its way to the 
news stands^ when Mr. W. M. Fuller, Clerk of the Court 
of Special Sessions, of this city, called to tell us that he 
was the author of the inscription. He was there in July 
of 1902, and with him were H. W. Foote, Assistant Pro- 
fessor of Chemistry in the Sheffield Scientific School of 
Yale, and H. F. Merriam, of Summit, N. J., and also of 
the Sheffield Scientific School; Duncan, the guide, and a 
fox terrier, who did not count. Mr. Fuller is enthusiastic 
over the country as a moose preserve; signs of the game 
were seen in greatest abundance. He expressed the 
warmest admiration, too, for the pluck of our fair cor- 
respondent, whose triumphs over the difficulties of the 
arduous trail, he declared, entitle her to all credit. Of 
these, however, A. W. C. is disposed to make light. "The 
fatigue and hardship I endured," she writes, "were not to 
be compared with those incident to a day's shopping. We 
have engaged our guides for a hunting trip next fall and 
expect to go into the country north of Lake Temiscaming. 
If I do not get a moose I may consider that trip a hard- 
ship." 
The Wake of the Muskrat, 
It is a memory of fifty years ago. The scene is the 
bank of an old canal that after the advent of the Boston 
and Providence Railroad had fallen into a state of neg- 
lected desuetude. It was a glorious October evening; 
not a breath of air stirred the tinted tops of the tall 
maples already coloring from the early frosts. Overhead, 
riding high in the heavens, the full orbed queen of night 
cast its soft radiance over the landscape, save where the 
thick pines that crowded closely the side of the towpath 
threw their dark shadows over it to the water's edge. 
Beneath one of the largest trees that commanded a 
long reach of the canal stood a boy with a gun and a 
black dog with complicated pedigree. All around him 
was the silence of the desert. Rather more than a mile 
away on the banks of the Blackstone lay the quiet little 
village from w^hence he had come, but no sound of industry 
or revelry reached his ears. Half an hour passed. The 
silence oppressed the boy, and he stooped and patted the 
dog by his side, whose only response was a grateful look 
upward and a gentle wag of the tail. A faint sound like 
a footfall reached their ears, and startled by it in this 
lonely spot the boy and dog shrank further back into the 
shadow. Along the towpath came a tall, spare, gray- 
haired man with a long single barrel gun on his shoulder, 
a veritable Natty Bumpo, whom the boy instantly recog- 
nized as old Sol. Rogers, known through all the neighbor- 
ing villages for his success in shooting and trapping 
muskrats. Just below the boy he stooped over the low 
bank and drew to the surface a wire trap about three 
feet square hy one foot in depth, and finding it empty 
carefully replaced it and went on down the path. Rather 
discouraged at the appearance of so formidable a com- 
petitor, the boy stood a few^ moments contemplating a 
quest of other fields, when a short distance above him 
and a few feet from the opposite bank a black spot sud- 
denly emerged from beneath the mirror-like surface of 
the water. So silently had it appeared that not a ripple 
was visible. For a moment it remained perfectly still and 
then began moving slowly across the stream toward 
him, leaving behind a large diverging wake that sparkled 
in the soft moonlight like strings of pearls. The boy's 
heart began to beat furiously; the black dog stood as if 
carved in ebony, and the eyes of both were fixed upon the 
apex of that V-shaped ripple. Many years have passed 
since then, but the exquisitely fascinating suspense, the 
ecstasy of that moment wnll never be forgotten. 
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the little three dollar 
gun that had never before been pointed at any game 
larger than a red squirrel, was brought to the cheek long- 
before the point of that ripple came within its limited 
range. Would he see us? Would he take the alarm? 
dive ? were the agonizing thoughts that coursed their way 
like lightning through the boy's brain, and still the wake 
grew wider and wider as the black point came steadily 
toward him. 
The trigger was pressed and the report, light as it was, 
seemed startlingly loud to the boy in that silent valley. 
The shot had hardly left the barrel when the black dog 
sprang with his full strength from the low bank into 
the water, and a moment later laid at the boy's feet a 
muskrat that measured full two feet from tip to tip. 
Since then the boy has sought and found the elk and 
the grizzly in their strongholds of the Rockies and the 
Sierra Nevadas; the antelope and buffalo, when "in miles 
and in millions" they crowded the plains of Montana and 
Wyoming, often heard the sound of his rifle. And on 
one still moonlight night such as he has attempted to 
describe he wandered alone along the banks of the Gala- 
tin and watched a pair of beavers swimming about in a 
still bend in the river; the black spot was much larger, 
the wake far more imposing, and all the accessories 
seemed much the same ; but it failed utterly to bring back 
the keenly thrilling sensations that filled the boy's breast 
on the banks of that old canal. 
Perhaps it was because the black dog with the com- 
plicated pedigree was absent. Perhaps the change was in 
the boy himself. Who can tell? Forked Deer. 
Caiifornia. 
