Aug. is, 1903.] 
FOREST AND STREAM 
128 
he foot an' yanked him back on the raft. The pike 
uk advantage o' the muss, an' went off wi' the gear; 
look, line an' sinker, an' that settled the fishin', as 
hey hadn't no more line. I've off'n thought as haow 
:'d like tu go an' try that place myself, some day." 
Vnd he again deluged the poor bug that was still 
eebly kicking, and rubbed his mouth with a sigh. 
"Come with me," said the Scribe, "and we will get 
.nother good man or two, and go -next week?" 
"Consarn the luck I can't du it! 'F there's any- 
hin' in the world I du lufter du, its t' go fishin', but I 
an't spare the time jest naow. I've ben a-workin' 
ike tew men all the week so's t' get off next Sadady 
ur a day's fun, an' that's all I can spare before my 
nowin' begins." 
"Come, come, boys! Don't stan' thar a-sucklin' yer 
loes tew long!" he called to his boys, who, with hands 
rossed upon the ends of their hoe handles and breasts 
eaning thereon, were eagerly lending their ears to the 
onversation. With boyish snickers they resumed their 
/ork, and the farmer continued. 
"No, I can't noways see time to go naoAv, but 'f 
ew cud wait till 'long in September I'd go 'f it bust 
ay galluses. I allers did want tu go thar, an' 'f yew'll 
i^ait I'll go with yew, sure, atter I get my wheat an' 
lats harvested. Besides, that'll be the best time t' go, 
s the dummed flies an' skeeters'll be all gone." 
The latter sentence was uttered in such an insinuat- 
igly persuasive way that it showed him to be earnestly 
esirous of partaking in the trip, and hopeful that it 
light be postponed till such time as he could get away. 
Fortunately it mattered not to Scribe when he went, 
s he was making a holiday of that summer, anyway, 
reparatory to his permanent removal to California, 
ind as he had taken a liking to the open face and 
earty manner of his new acquaintance, they entered 
ito the details of the September trip, and with words 
f mutual liking, parted, with the avowal that nothing 
;ss than sickness or other equally urgent cause would 
e allowed to interfere with their plans. 
Summer sped away, and the middle of September was 
pproaching. Scribe, mindful of his promise, dropped 
line to F., his farmer acquaintance, and received an 
nthusiastic reply, in which was offered conveyance 
3r the trip in the shape of a pair of horses and a new 
ouble-seated "thoroughbrace" that he had recently 
urchased. He also recommended as members of the 
arty, a brother-in-law of his named T., and a man 
'ho lived near Red Mountain, known as Black Rory, 
f the clan Of McDonald, 'fra the hielans o' Scotlaii', 
^ho was clearing a new farm for himself and his 
imily out of the forest in that locality. He said that 
Lory was a good woodsman, and was better acquainted 
'ith that part of the country than any one else he 
new of. This proved true in the end, and Rory was 
ound invaluable to the party all through the trip. 
Scribe hastened to the nearest railway town, and 
ired a conveyance to carry him to the farmers' home, 
ogether with the provisions for the trip, which he 
laimed the privilege of providing. He was met with 
learty words of welcome, and was soon seated at the 
upper table discussing fried chicken, hot biscuit and 
he whitest of wild honey, with fresh butter and milk 
hat would almost bring the dead to life. 
The next morning, after a breakfast by candle light, 
he three men started, leaving F.'s two strapping boys 
Doking after them with longing eyes. 
"Naow boys," said their father, as he took up the 
eins for a start, "don't envy me my holiday. Yeu've 
ad several on 'em this summer, an' I've had but one 
ay, so 'f the '1 man is goin' to have a week ont this 
Ime, jest be good-natered an' du yer work like men, 
,n' it will be yeur turn next." 
"All right, dad,' they said cheerfully, "we're glad 
ou are going, but it makes us itch to go along with 
ou and help pull out those big fish. We will keep 
hings running all right while you are gone, and you 
leed not hurry back. Good-by!" 
"Good-by, boys! Glad to hear yeu talk up manly like 
hat," and with another wave of his hand to his good 
/ife, who stood in the kitchen door waving her hand, 
he reins were tightened, and they were off. 
"Teu good boys, them be, if I du say it, an' chips oft" 
he ol' block, teu. Like tu go fishin' jes' 's well 's I 
u, an'U work like tarnation all week so 's t' have 
iadaday aternoon tu go," he confidentially remarked 
s they drove off. 
The weather had been very hot and dry for some 
ime; the roads were dusty; the fields were parched; 
•nd the streams had dwindled far below their usual 
ummer level. It was not a promising time for fishing, 
•Ut it was now or never, and it "went as it lay." 
The farm of Black Rory was reached that evening, 
nd he was found expectant and ready, having been 
lotified in time, and his strapping sonsy wife had a 
;ood, substantial meal on the table in short order, 
"he night was spent in the hay of Rory's new barn, and 
11 hands were early astir in the morning and on 
heir way, as soon as a kettle of oatmeal porridge and 
nilk was disposed of. 
Rory's home had been carved out of the virgin wil- 
lerness, and was an outpost of civilization. To the 
lorthwest rose the dark fir-covered slopes of Re4 
fountain. To the east lay a great swamp, traversed 
rom north to south by a winding boggy stream. Be- 
ond this swamp, somewhere in the great untracked 
orest that then lay in unbroken miles to the east, lay 
he little lake that the party sought. 
Some two years previously a lumber company, whose 
cene of operations lay many miles to the no.rth, had 
hrown a dam across the boggy stream some six miles 
lorth of Rory's, which had backed the water all over 
he great swamp, and had already killed nearly all the 
t timber which had covered it. In the spring the 
oodgates would be opened at a time when the rush 
►f the imprisoned waters would carry the saw logs 
.way to the distant mills. 
The stream was now at its natural level, so Rory 
eported, and upon it, about a mile away, was a boat 
wned by the lumbermen,- that had been brought up 
rom the dam and left in his care. This boat he had the 
privilege of using, and they would take it and start out 
on a voyage of discovery. 
Packing the duffle upon their shoulders, the four men 
started off, and soon plunged into the domain 'of the 
forest. Rory led the way, with Scribe at his heels, and 
the others following in Indian file. Scribe carried the 
only weapon of the party, a fine old Joe Manton 
double-barreled shotgun. The" close season on grouse 
was not off yet, but the law of the forest grants the 
right to kill for immediate needs, and when a flock 
of those birds flew into the surrounding trees, soon 
after the party entered the woods, four of them were 
shot to provide a supper, in case the lake was not 
reached that night. These birds Scribe added to his 
burden, and before the boat was reached he was sorry 
that he had ever seen them. Rory said it was a mile 
from his place to where the boat lay, but on further 
questioning it proved that he meant that it was a mile 
from the boundaries of his land, which meant nearly 
two miles of forest travel^ the last mile of which was 
through a tangled swamp of dead trees. The major- 
ity of Forest and Stream readers will understand what 
this meant to four heavily laden men on a hot morn- 
ing, with no foliage to screen them from the sun's rays, 
and not a breath of air stirring, in the portion of the 
journey through the swamp. Faces and bodies were 
bathed in perspiration; all exposed portions were cov- 
ered with cuts and scratches; each and every one had 
been into the boggy ooze over his boottops, and every 
one had sat down several times and cooled off the 
broadest portion of his anatomy in the slimiest mud 
to be found. 
Of such mishaps and experiences is made up the lot 
of the fisherman! 
The boat, when found, was a heavy old tub, and was 
high and dry on the top of an old log; the only dry spot 
in the swamp. One might as well have gone to sea in 
a willow_ basket, so open were the seams. This necessi- 
tated a joui-ney back to higher ground for spruce gum 
to fill the cracks. Three of the party did this, while the 
third pounded some dry cedar bark into fine fibres, and 
with this, by aid of a wedge of wood and a club, filled 
the worst of the cracks. When the gum arrived it 
was melted in an old oyster can which was in the 
boat, and after a couple of hours' labor the craft was 
ready to launch. 
The job was pronounced good, as all hands could 
embark, and keep afloat, with only one man bailing at 
a time. 
The stream which the party was now traversing was 
not a large one, but on account of the level surface of 
the swamp through which it flowed, was winding and 
devious. Here and there it widened into pools and 
good-sized ponds, and anon narrowed down to a few 
feet in width. Everywhere along its shores grew im- 
mense beds of pond lilies and other aquatic plants, and 
lurking in these at every turn and angle, lay what ap- 
peared to be small pickerel. Almost every stroke of the 
oars disturbed one or more of these fish, which would 
reveal his or their late presence by a swirl of water 
among the weeds. None of them appeared to be more 
than fourteen or fifteen inches in length, and Rory was 
applied to for information as to what they were, and 
as to whether there were any larger ones in the stream. 
"I think that they hef not the time to crow pig," 
said he, "for it iss only since the tam wass puilt that 
they hef peen here, whatefer." 
AVhich was probably the fact, as previous to the build- 
ing of the dam, the stream was full of trout, and noth- 
ing else. Subsequent observation showed that the 
erection of that structure had backed the water clear 
up to the lake the party was searching for, and the 
pilce (not pickerel) had escaped and bred freely in the 
stream; hence the numbers of small fish. 
The boat proceeded up the stream for an hour or 
more, each inmate scanning the east bank closely for 
any appearance of a stream entering from that direction. 
Then false clues began to appear, and another hour was 
spent in investigation of them. Finally, after another 
hour of vain search, a spot was reached where clear 
water was certainly coming in under a bunch of dead 
willows. This was followed up, and found to be a 
small flowing stream, which Rory said must be the one 
they were in search of, and as he was the only one 
with any knowledge of the country, what he said had to 
go. 
It looked like a hard proposition to tackle. The 
stream was small, being barely wide enough for the 
passage of the boat, and was crossed and recrossed with 
aged and sodden logs, and otherwise obstructed with 
a tangle of fallen treetops. Each bank was a puzzle 
of dead willows and firs, killed by the overflow, with 
the dead stiff branches reaching everywhere to clutch 
and tear the intruder in their domain. 
The boat was entered upon this forbidding path, and 
pushed up to the first obstructing log. Here the party 
landed, and a plan of campaign was mapped out. Scribe 
was sent ahead with the camp kettle, the grouse, a few 
potatoes, onions, pork and seasoning, wherewith to 
make a stew on arriving at the lake, and have it ready 
for the tired and hungry beings that would follow 
later. 
T. was to go ahead on the stream with the ax and 
clear away all the brush and trees possible, while F. and 
Rory undertook the task of getting the boat over the 
obstructing logs. To do this they had to unload and 
reload the boat many times, and were almost continual- 
ly in the water and ooze of the swamp up to their 
waists, and often deeper. 
As the burdened Scribe made his slow way through 
the heartbreaking tangle, he could hear his companions, 
for many minutes, splashing, grunting and "heave-ho- 
ing!" with an occasional forcible expletive interlarding 
the proceedings, by which he judged that they were 
having troubles of their own. 
After an hour's hard travel the ground began to 
grow firmer, and deciduous trees to come in, with 
easier walking. Presently a break in the forest ap- 
peared, and in a few moments more Scribe emerged 
upon the bank of a beautiful little gem of the woods, 
which was winking back at the ardent glances of the 
sun and laughing a soft and rippling laugh from it§ 
pebbly beach. The lake was pear-shaped; about two- 
thirds of a mile long and half as wide. It was an in- 
significant looking bit of water, to come so far in 
search of, with the expectation of catching large fish 
in its waters. As Scribe stood admiring the quiet beauty 
of the scene, his eye caught a movement on a little 
meadow at the extreme head of the lake, and there 
stood two large bucks at gaze, with antlers thrown back 
and muzzles advanced. They had evidently become 
aware that some stranger had invaded their domain 
and were ti-ying to make out what manner of creature 
the intruder might be. 
How beautiful and peaceful was the scene! No trace 
of man was anywhere to be discerned. No ugly stumps 
or fallen timber marked the steps of either camper or 
lumberman. All was as it came from the hand of 
nature. Scribe took it in with long soul-satisfying 
looks, and for a time forgot his toiling tired com- 
panions. Suddenly he came back to a realization of 
the needs of the hour and moved forward, and at once, 
like the shadow of a passing bird, the deer melted into 
the leafy shades and were gone. 
Scribe moved up the north beach, looking for a good 
camping ground, and presently came upon an ideal 
spot, and within twenty paces of it he found a bubbling 
spring, that sent a tiny stream down to the lake. This 
was luck, and two crotched sticks were soon cut and 
driven in the ground, a cross stick laid upon them, on 
this was hung a hooked stick with a notch cut for the 
kettle bail. In this, with the bottom about eight inches 
from the ground, was hung the kettle, half full of 
sweet spring water. A comfortable fire of dry sticks 
was soon going, and the ingredients of the stew pre- 
pared. When all was going merrily, and the pot began 
to give forth a grateful smell, the rest of the party 
came in sight, and marked their advent with a lusty 
cry, "is dinner ready?" 
They were a tired band, and were covered with the 
black mud of the swamp from feet to head. After a 
good wash and the removal of their outer garments, 
the stew was ready, and it was pronounced to be "the 
very best meal that ever was eaten," by all hands. 
A satisfying meal, served just at the time that hungry 
men are ready for it, always calls for commendation 
of the food and the cook, and is gratifying all around. 
After the dishes were washed (this was a clean party^ 
and work was not neglected) all hands lay down for a 
good smoke and a well-earned rest, while their soaked 
nether garments were hung in the sun to dry. 
The day was a hot one. as before mentioned, and after 
the hard work and the hearty meal, slumber soon stole 
upon the men, and the whole camp was asleep. Just 
about ten minutes after Scribe had closed his eyes, as 
it seemed to him, he was aroused by the voice of F. 
shouting, "Good nation, boys, wake up, wake up! 
Come, this will never do! We must git to work. It's 
near sundaown, an' camps to make yit!" 
And surely enough, the day was waning fast, and 
the trees overhead were casting shadows upon the sur- 
face of the lake, as the balance of the group scrambled 
to their feet, and looked out with sleepy eyes over its 
face. 
All was bustle for an hour, while boughs were cut 
and made into springy beds in the lee of an immense 
boulder, which some ancient glacier had borne and 
dropped here, miles away from its parent bed. A 
large piece of cotton sheeting, well soaked in strong 
alum water, had been provided for a tent, and this 
was stretched over the beds like a shanty tent, to pro- 
tect against dew and rain. Abundance of dry wood 
was provided by Rory for cooking and campfires, 
while F. built a stone fire-place for cooking. 
While the sun was yet a half hour high, F. ordered 
T. and Scribe to go out and make a try for some fish 
for supper; for by this time every one was hungry 
again, such is the tonic of forest air and exercise. 
Scribe, nothing loath, jointed a stout ash trolling 
rod of his own make, attached thereto a heavy single- 
action reel, carrying some seventy yards of stout sea- 
grass line, and to the end of this a gaudy spoon and 
feather lure. 
T. took the oars and off they started with high hopes. 
One hundred yards, 200 yards, 300 yards, and noth- 
ing doing! Then as they left the north shore and began 
to curve around the head of the lake, there was a fierce 
strike, and a fight was on. 
But this was no pike that came tearing out of the 
water, shaking his head like a bulldog and turning 
summersaults in the air! This fellow's bronze sides 
gleamed in the rays of the setting sun like dull gold, 
and the silhouette of his great armed dorsal fin cut 
across the shining water as clearly as the horns of a 
new moon cuts the western sky. 
Here was a "pike" with a vengeance. A sharp fight 
of fully fifteen minutes' duration ensued, with the ang- 
ler as the victor, and a magnificent seven-pound bass 
lay captive in the boat. 
Here was sport indeed! The spoon was again cast 
out, and within twenty feet of the boat was again 
seized, and after a similar fight, but with many more 
leaps into the air, a mate of the first fish lay alongside 
of him. 
The spoon was again cast out for another bite, but 
it was some time in coming, and the boat was headed 
for camp. The hooks caught on a snag and T. was 
told to "back up." The order was obeyed, but the line 
kept slowly running off the reel. An idea occurred to 
Scribe, and he struck, and struck hard. Then there was 
"something doing" again, but it was all done under 
water, and by hard, sullen fighting. There was none 
of the picturesque leaps and rushes of the light-armored 
cruiser, but the slow, irresistible pull of the great bat- 
tleship. As darkness settled down the fight ended by 
the capitulation of the fish, and a great pike weighing 
eighteen pounds was brought to gaff. Then went up 
to the skies some wild ululations, which brought F. 
and Rory to the water's edge to see the cause. 
Surely three nobler fish were never captured in less 
time, and here was success, beyond the most vivid 
imagination in the party, and full justification for the 
uncertainties and fatigue of the trip. Arefar 
[to be concluded.] 
