68 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
fJTULY 25, 1903. 
time the Rangeleys and many of the old-time resorts were 
on the wane. This helped recruit the ranks of the elect 
and deplete the lower river. This led many adventurous 
anglers to desert the old places, and seek happier regions 
above. Anglers from far and near now began to invade 
this fly-fishers' paradise. They fell upon the choicest 
places, between Lake Hejen and the landing, and 
lo! they were not. The river above Alexandria Bay still 
continued to honor the drafts made upon it, while the 
rapids far below chanted the sad refrain of departed 
glory. The resources of the noble river were soon to be 
severely taxed, like a siiiuous serpent; the railroad en- 
tered this Eden of trout, bringing an overwhelming army 
of anglers in its train. All that saved it now from iitler 
annihilation was its two mighty feeders, Lakes Nepigon 
and Superior. The merciless flogging the river now re- 
ceived from the forest of rods that were turned loose 
upon it soon began to have effect. The larger trout grad- 
ually became suspicious of the clever imitations of insect 
life that drifted about on the surface. The fly-fishing 
was now at its best, from an expert's point of view. The 
smaller fish of two pounds or better could still be taken 
in reasonable numbers, but to deceive one of these giants 
of the flood with the mocking imitation of a dying in- 
sect was a feat that any angler could refer to with honor- 
able pride. Comparatively few can do the trick at this 
late day. These cold northern waters are apt to warm up 
a trifle under the ardent gaze of that fiery luminary, who 
reigns triumphant during the brief Canadian surnmer, 
scorching sportsmen and vegetation alike. Occasional 
showers offset his fervid rays and cool the waters to a de- 
lightful temperature, presenting the watchful angler with 
golden opportunities to score the last half of June, and 
from August 10 to September 15 represent the pick of the 
season. The sportsman who comes here in July must 
chance it on passing showers for fish to fill up his creel. 
It is an off month everywhere for trout. 
Many anglers came utterly unprepared to cope with 
the changed conditions that confront them, often equipped 
with tackle that is pie to these monsters of the deep pools 
and rapids, particularly fly-rods that their owners lack 
the ingenuity lo convert to bait purposes. Tt is useless 
to apply to the Indian guides, as most of them know little 
or nothing about the ways of the scientific angler, and 
care less. He is the only man that has a lighting chance 
to conquer these finny giants, not the native fisher, with 
his primitive methods that worked well enough in the 
past, when half the catch could be lost, yet enough saved 
for present needs. There is no such comfortable mai'gin 
of luck now on the river. Off days occur quite ftequent- 
ly, when for some unknown reason the trout refuse the 
most tempting offers. Therefore it behooves the expert 
angler to be ever on the watch and play the game for all 
it is worth, otherwise he is likely to retire to camp, ac- 
companied by the proverbial fishei'man's luck. Scientific 
angling is the best and only way to success with large 
trout, so here goes to enlighten the tyro, who is willing 
to adopt the up-to-date methods that prevail on the Nepi- 
gon and other places resorted to by knowing ones. 
Tackle that is good enough for the Adirondacks and 
the greater portion of the Maine woods will not answer 
here. Split bamboo is elegant material for a rod, but is too 
costly and frail for the tyro's use, lancewood, Bethabara 
and greenheart will stand far more rough treatment than 
split bamboo. I have had considerable experience with 
Bethabara and strongly recommend it. A fly-rod of this 
material, weighing from 8 to o ounces and about loy^ feet 
in length, is the thing for the Nepigon, or wherever the 
trout run large. It should have a spare tip 3 or 4 inches 
in length to fit into the upper point; this converts your 
fly-rod into a serviceable bait-rod. You can utilize a 
broken fly-tip for this purpose, by trimming it down and 
replacing the ring tip. If the ring is round, heat it a 
trifle and press it to a pear shape. This will allow the 
hne to shp off instead of catching below the top. A good 
multiplier is not amiss, but the feather light or expert 
reel, with back sliding click, will take up line very fast, 
and can be relied on to meet every emergency. Use fly- 
hooks, not coarse cheap ones. Cheap hooks, flies and 
rods are a snare and a delusion on the Nepigon ; 4-0 
Shaughnessy or 6 Sproat will give you an idea of the 
size. Salmon leaders and flies will give superb service, 
but are A^ery expensive. A six-foot leader, mist-colored, 
adapted for heavy black bass, is strong enough for most 
■situations. Have several sizes of ringed sinkers. The 
•most useful is about the size of a .32 caliber bullet. Split 
shot often come handy. A good way to rig iip is to 
fasten one end of the sinker to the reel line, the other 
ring to a three-foot leader, or you can divide a six-foot 
leader and attach the ends to the ringed sinker ; it's pi-ac- 
tically the same. In either case use swivel sinkers or 
snelled hooks, swivels for trolling are likely to strip, 
avoid them ; the best plan is to use flatted or knobbed 
hooks. Four or five half hitches of gut well soaked in 
warm water, make a fastening that defies removal, and 
is easily renewed when the gut gets worn at the head 
of the hook. Flies tied in the old style are apt to strip, 
particularly if old. When worn by frequent casting the 
gut cannot be replaced. I tie my own flies on flatted 
hooks. It is impossible to strip them; they are tied to 
use with a sliding loop. Worn gut can be cut out and 
loop renewed in one minute, insuring a sound leader. I 
have used this fastening on the Nepigon, in the Big Fish 
Lake region and other parts of eastern and northwest 
Maine. It never fails._ It will send in a full account of it 
if sufficient interest is manifested. A tapered or level 
fly-line rather heavy, of braided silk or linen, at least 
50 yards, better 65 ; and a large ringed landing net, say 
36 inches .deep, with a mesh fine enough to entertain 
minnows. A creel is handy, but not indispensable, as 
your guide will take care of your catch. 
Now for a brief chat about flies, dark ones are of little 
use on account of the depth of water. Large, light-col- 
ored flies are more apt to be seen — variations of yellow, 
green and red, with plenty of white or light yellow in 
the wirigs. Parmachenee-belle, royal-coachman, orange 
and white moths are all good examples. Small flies are 
best for brook fishing. Flies on flatted hooks are not on 
sale, .the next best are flies on needle-eyed hooks. 
The would-be angler is now pretty well equipped with 
everything necessary save experience ; he will get that fast 
enough when he appears on the river, especially the bit- 
tr sweet variety. The reader who desires to know more, 
about this romantic region, its beauty an4 its trout, will 
find much to interest him in a trip I made to the Nepigon 
last season, about the middle of August. 
At the little Nepigon station I met the genia! 
fishery overseer, WiUiam McKirdy. The village 
boasts of two stores, a country hotel and a church, 
McKirdy furnishes complete outfits. I found Joe Salt, the 
head guide, busy packing up, After making a few pur- 
chases, including license, we departed for the landing, fol- 
lowed by the curious gaze of the natives. Here we found 
the canoe in chai'ge of the younger guide. It was getting 
toward sunset when the birch glided out on to Lake 
Helen. The next morning we entered the sluggish cur- 
rent of the river. Clearings show up on both 
banks. At frequent intervals a few half-breed 
families have settled down, striving to wrest a 
rather precarious living by raising hay, potatoes, 
and a few hardy vegetables from the stony soil. We 
passed by a very comfortable cabin deserted by its owner 
cn account of its lonely situation. Frequently t-he troubled 
waters suggested trout, but probably harbored pike and 
tcgue. As we drew near Alexandria Bay, a lovely cascade 
sprang from the dense forest on the left bank, laughing 
in silvery tones as it leaped from rock to rock. The brook 
above contains trout; its source is a pond stocked with 
black bass; it is seldom visited, and no doubt harbors 
some heavy weights. As the sweet voice of this wild 
woods beauty died away in the distance, the white water 
of Long Rapids shot into view, finding a resting place on 
the broad bosom of Alexandria Bay. This beautiful bay 
and rapids are embalmed in the blessed memory that 
hovers about the good old Nepigon days. The swift water 
between Lake Jessie and the bay holds many a three- 
pounder, but the giants that used to disport in Long 
Rapids have vanished forever. The pool at the foot of 
the upper rapids is one of the best stands on the river 
for fly-fishing; it holds many trout of two pounds or 
better. Cameron's Pool, a little further down, is a "has 
been" now, but was once a famous rallying place for the 
old timers. The little rivulet that races across the portage 
road shelters many trout. 
Here the guides deposited the canoe and camp stuff and 
awaited the commg of the team. It wordd be a charming 
place to camp for a few days, and pry into the secrets of 
the brook, late in the season, when insect life is on the 
wane. I shall never forget the old angler that I met by 
the brook side; he used a cane to prop his failing 
strength ; time had withered his countenance but failed to 
touch the boyish heart. He crowed forth a hilarious 
welcome to Pat, the eccentric driver of the carry team, 
as he rushed down the steep incline, surrounded by a 
halo of black flies. This merry disciple of Walton was 
one of a little band of anglers who interested me greatly, 
as, with one exception, they were all graybeards. They 
assured me of a good time ahead, provided I did not en- 
counter a run of hard luck. Black flies swarmed in mul- 
titudinous numbers on the carry; it is a fly purgatory in 
August, and no mistake. Pat must exist in a chronic 
state of martyrdom most of the season. Let us draw a 
veil over the scene. 
Early next morning our canoe glided out on to the 
placid surface of the lake that mirrored only the passing 
clouds and voyageurs. This is one of five sister lakes 
that, like a string of pearls, connect Lake Nepigon with 
Lake Superior. Here the tortured waters of the chute 
gains a brief resi^ite before joining in the wild strife be- 
low. Immense pike lurk in its depths, occasionally leav- 
ing them to foray in the troubled waters where trout 
abound. Comparatively few anglers take advantage of 
■ the good run of smaller sized fish that abound in Long 
Rapids, and the Narrows that connect Lake Jessie with 
Lake Maria. Many knights of the fly rod go further and 
fare worse. This haven of dreamy rest and peace is soon 
exchanged for the turbulent strife Of contending waters. 
At Split Rock the mad flight of the river is checked be- 
tween lofty cliffs of basalt. This portage and island a 
short distance above are trifling, but every carry necessi- 
tates unloading the birch to the ribs. The guides then 
carry it across and bestow it with the greatest care in the 
water. Sometimes evergreen boughs are placed at the 
landing to prevent chafing. Leaks are a constant source 
of trouble, particularly with old canoes. The carries are 
the life of the river ; here people of every grade of society 
are encountered. The blase frequenter of fashionable re- 
sorts joins forces with the bored millionaire in the search 
for a new sensation. Here the young tyro, to whom mere 
existence is a joy, rubs elbows with old veterans wise in 
fish lore, who often condescend to give points to the 
tenderfoot that stand him in good stead when he flashes 
his maiden rod on the pools above. I was fortunate in 
making the acquaintance of an old timer on one of these 
thoroughfares who had camped on the river in the palmy 
days of fly-fishing. He drew a mournful contrast between 
the present and the past, and lamented the decadence of 
fly-fishing at Virgin Falls. The experienced anglers could 
be easily singled out from among the motley crowd who 
jostled one another for precedence on the river, by the 
way they handled their tools; many of them had grown 
gray in the pursuit. The fly-rod often worked wonders 
in such hands, bringing captive to the net many a trout of 
such noble proportions as to be worthy of the attentions 
of the half-breed artists. The knowing ones work the best 
places for all they are worth by using both flies and min- 
nows. Occasionally an inveterate fly crank puts in an ap- 
pearance. These followers of old Izaak (a long way off) 
detest the ways of the bait-fisher, and spurn his advice. 
They are often appropriately rewarded with a light creel 
and a heavy heart. 
A few miles above Island Portage we drew ^ near to 
a famous collection of pools, among which Hamilton's is 
prominent. Avoiding the wild output from Hamilton's 
Pool, we fetched up at the foot of Pine Portage, and 
pitched out tent about midway on the carry, where the 
river broadens out into an immense pool that holds many 
a goodly trout. Here I whiled away many a happy hour 
casting into some whirling eddy, or where, amidst thunder 
and foam, lurked giant trout. Flies that would have 
scored in northeast Maine failed to draw except among 
the smaller sizes. At times I spiced ray life with excite- 
ment and danger by running the wild Robinson Rapids; 
with a good head of water on it roars like some monster, 
threatening to crush the frail birch between its rocky 
Jaws, while great masses of water leap upward from im- 
pact with the rocks and fall with a thunderous slap, like 
the tails of a thousand beavers. The casoe soon feels the 
mighty suction of the torrent and quickens its pace. The 
Indians gaze about with an air of grim confidence, ana 
carefully take their bearings, knowing that sharp rocks 
lie in wait ambushed in foam or masked beneath the 
treacherous surface. A broken paddle staff or a marked ^ 
deviation^ from the slippery route is to court destruction ; 
to the_ birch and its occupants. The canoe hesitates ; 
tremblingly on the verge, then, abandoning itself to the 
irresistible force of the current, like an arrow shot from 
the bow flies down the watery slope, the shouts of the 
guides smothered in the appalling din of clashing forces. 
I often took these risky chances to gain a coveted fly 
pocket between the upper and lower rapids. Here in this 
sheltered spot I cast the gaudy fly, but failed to meet with ' 
any marked success, while scarce a hand's breadth away i 
the lower rapids tossed their white arms aloft, the only ' 
exit to the pool below. Stately forests of pine and hard 
wood encroached on the river, softening the hard con 
tours of rocks, resplendent in the warm glow of the set- 
ting sun. They present a smiling contrast to the grim face 
of the granite cliffs. 
Life at Pine Portage is a merry round of piscatorial 
pleasure, and backwoods comfort. The wrinkled front of 
care relaxes before the boyish pranks and jests that are ^ 
wafted about the camp-fire, often as irresponsible as the ' 
sparks that fly upward. Here all are boys again, though 
many have heads as white as foam. Occasionally a smart 
Alec struts upon the scene, thereby adding to the gaiety 
of the situation.^ He speedily becomes the butt of the 
camp, and a victim to all sorts of practical jokes on land 
and water. He jeers at scientific bait-fishing and gazes 
with contempt on the whippy fly-rod and delicate leader; 
he proposes to use strong tackle and accomplish his pur- 
pose as the Irishman played on the fiddle — by main 
strength. Deaf to well meant advice, but primed with 
brazen assurance, fooled by conceit, he embarks for some 
happy haunt of the anglers, armed with a rod about as 
resilient as a poker, amid the ill-concealed merriment of 
the elect, who see his finish. His braided line is fine and 
strong, the hook about the right size, the rig will pass 
muster in rough water, and would render good service in 
master hands, barring the rod. Presently his guide point:, 
out a likely spot. Ker-slosh ! goes minnow and sinker, 
and quickly disappears beneath the surface. The bait is 
fresh and tempting and soon attracts the attention of a ■ 
magnificent fish. _ There is a slight pull on the tautened' 
line, his strike is quickly responded to by a jerk that-! 
nearly plucks the rod from his grasp and sends the line, 
flying back in his face, minus the business end of thei 
hook. He gazes at the faithless steel with a rueful cast 
of countenance and soon hitches fast another. But 'tis 
not a cheap one. He braces up and makes another bid 
for piscatorial honors and finds an easy mark in a two- 
pounder. This hard-hooked lightweight is quickly dis- 
posed of. A larger one that would have fallen an easy 
victim to the fly-rod, jerked loose. This beggarly show- 
ing caused him no little alarm, as twilight was about due. 
The evening's entertainment was wound up by an encoun- 
ter between this know-it-all and an old hook jaw. The 
minnow in its travels invaded the territory of an old' 
battle-scarred vet, wise in fly lore, but ready to immolat 
himself on a hook deftly concealed in minnow or angle 
worm. After a careful inspection he closed with the 
tempting offer, and promptly put up the fight of his life 
Warned by past failures, the excited fisherman made an 
effort to ease off his furious rushes by surrendering line, 
But playing a monstrous trout is an art in itself that re- 
requires considerable practice and skill. The old fellow ^ 
got any quantity of slack line and dead pull, but it availedJ 
him not._ Jerks and wild plunges that lashed the water into j 
foam failed to free him from his tomientor. He now al-j 
lowed himself to be towed within a few yards of the wait-j 
ing net ; the fisherman smiles in anticipatory triumph, and>j 
grasps his reel firmly, not gingerly like an experienced - 
angler. It looks to be all over, except the shouting. But' 
there's many a slip betwixt the net and the fish. Sud-1 
denly, without an instant's warning, six pounds of fini 
and fury cleaves the air, his mad flight arrested by the 
rigid rod and line, a cruel jerk that rends delicate liga- 
ments, sends the hook flying from his lacerated jaw; he 
strikes the surface and before the horrified gaze of the 
chump disappears with a sound like a rock cast into the* 
water. Darkness precludes any further attempts. Mourn ' 
fully the fisherman returns to camp to receive the moc 
condolences of some, sour looks from others, whose sport- 
he has helped spoil by his crude methods. 
This flight of fancy is founded on fact, as witness the, 
following: One of my Indians fastened to four trout at 
Long Rapids and lost them ail by jerking off, despite the j 
assistance of a steel fly-rod. Instead of giving line hei 
depended on the spring of the rod. They were hooked . 
well and good, and could probably all have been saved if J 
properly played. Occasionally a big one is hooked hard 
on strong tackle, his capture then becomes a certainty un 
less the hook breaks or tears out. But many escape with 
torn and lacerated mouths and bodies to become so suspi- 
cious and cunning as often to balk the best efforts of thq 
most skillful anglers. This cruel and wasteful method oi 
angling should be prohibited, as it often reduces the spor^ 
to a minimum on many of the best pools. The angler thac 
flies to the other extreme and banks on a featherweight 
rod and cobweb leader will have his hopes and tackle de-' 
molished at one fell swoop. 
Crowds of men, women and children, along with guides; 
loaded down with camp paraphernalia, come and go at^ 
Pine Portage, the liveliest place on the river. The amounti 
of baggage and style that some parties unload on the' 
Nepigon is ridiculous. The chill air of exclusiveness that' 
pervades the camp repels comradery. These worthie-^- 
soon discover that the worship of Mammon and that oi; 
woodland beauty are incompatible. Their gold helps 
smooth their path, but fails to gain them access to the 
inner court of nature; eyes they have, and they see not 
ears, and they hear not; the sweet song of the rivulet re 
ceives no encore. Beautiful wild flowers that peep 
shyly out at them from the crevices of the rocks exist 
unnoticed or else are trampled remorselessly beneath their 
feet in their aim.Iess wanderings. They preempt the bes 
pools, and between them and their army of guides ki! 
and mutilate any quantity of trout. They often spo; 
the joy of the true angler without adding to their own 
The novelty of the situation soon evaporates. They linger '! 
for a while in a state of elegant boredom, and then depar; 
to more congenial climes. This class of pleasure seekers 
i 
