234 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Oct. 3, 1903. 
®f? Mv^^^^W^ Satirist 
Musings at Sand Lake. 
II, — A Unique Angling Region of Southern Michigan. 
Mention has recently been made in these columns of 
the excellent fishing at Devil's Lake, in Lenawee county, 
Michigan. As the angler there "runs" his trolling line 
along the winding edge of the deep water, and is round- 
ing "Darlington's Point," rowing southwest, he sees, to 
the northeast, a range of hills that are veiy high for that 
region. Until a few years ago the highest hill, Pros- 
pect Range, was surmounted by the Government Survey 
tower, from which a view could be had of about thirty 
miles in all directions. That hill, with one exception, is 
the highest in the county, and in the Southern Peninsula 
of Michigan; and the view from it is the loveliest in the 
State. 
It is a heavily wooded country^ but is also patched to 
the horizon with lush fields of clover and of grain — oats, 
buckwheat, corn, wheat, and barley. On a clear day 
thirty-three inland lakes can be seen from that summit, 
like a string of pearls circling- its foot. Far to the south- 
Avest, Round and Devil's lakes lie in their emerald set- 
tings. Sweeping northward and then to the east and 
south, this huge circle of water-gems sparkles back in 
answer to sun and stars, spring-fed lakes full of perch, 
bass, sunfish, bullheads, bluegills or pickerel. What an 
aggregation of bewildering opportunities for the fisher- 
man! Evans, Wampler, Vineyard, Stony, Wolf, Allen, 
Clear, Dewey, Goose, Grass, Long, Deep, Phelps, Willow, 
Tamarack, Gull, and Meadow lakes are the largest, the 
thirty-lhree varying in size from less than four acres of 
area to lakes three miles long and nearly two miles wide. 
I first saw the panorama from that crest in i860, forty- 
three years ago. I was homeward bound after a timor- 
ous fishing trip in Iron Creek, the outlet of Wampler's 
Lake, while a lot of Lenawee count}' farmers were hold- 
nig a patriotic meeting at Walker's Hotel, four miles 
north of Prospect Hill. That old hostelry was built by 
Sylvester Walker in 1839, and was kept for many years 
by an eccentric bachelor — Lyman Nearing. It was 
at the junction of the locally famous Monroe and Chicago 
turnpike, tremendously popular; and it furnished ac- 
commodations for thousands of "settlers," the pioneers 
of Southern Michigan. For twelve years there was a 
double daily line of stages running each way on that 
turnpike, and filled with passengers. 
Nine miles northeast of the pinnacle of Prospect lies 
Sand Lake. I fished there in 1862. It was a surprisingly 
fine lake for black bass angling, and often is yet. 
We drove to Evans Lake, one mile east of Sand Lake, 
and secured supper and lodging at a hotel then kept by 
John Davenport. He and his wife and their daughter 
Ella have been dead many years. Old residents there will 
remember the hotel and its "celebration" and anvil-firings, 
the dances and the fireworks on the "glorious Fourth" of 
1862. 
Evans Lake was then a great resort for anglers from 
Adrian and Tecumseh. It is about a mile across, 
with two islands, each of about three acres, and is nearly 
round, with verj^ fine wooded banks. Sand Lake was 
then not available for fishing, as only three boats were 
there, and their owners had formed a trust to keep fisher- 
men from using them. 
The next morning Mrs. Davenport and daughter and 
the writer's mother and sister drove over to Sand Lake, 
where a canoe from Davenport's had been launched for 
Ihem the night before. The}'- stopped at the little house 
Then owned by Agnes Campbell, Avho lived alone on the 
east shore. She had another little boat, one of the three 
m the trust ; and the four ladies, unused to any boating, 
much less the work in the canoes, ventured out on what 
was to them a great lake, and to me, disconsolate yet 
spell-bound as I watched them from the T-hore, truly an 
ocean! How blue and fear-some it was, and how anxious 
I became as I saw the canoes careen, and heard the loud 
admonitions , to "sit straight" that were interchanged 
from the boats ! 
Those woman anglers used rough tamarack poles, coarse 
lines and heavy sinkers — tackle of the most primitive 
kind. They rowed out forty rods to the edge of the deep 
water, and anchored. Two of the party had a black bass 
hooked laefore the lines could sink. The small boy on 
shore was quite as delighted and full of excitement as 
the occupants of the boats. In half an hour one boat held 
eleven black bass of from one to five pounds in weight 
each; and the two fisherwomen in the other boat had 
five. Then the wind rose and one of the boats returned to 
the Campbell cottage. Not another bite was had there by 
the two ladies who ventured to remain on the lake. The 
waves grew so high that they rowed nearly two miles to 
the stiller water sheltered by the banks of what is now 
called Monigan's Cove. There they pulled in more bass 
until the minnows used for bait were gone. Then 
they used white grubs and pulled in great bluegills — a 
bushel of fish before dinner! 
Two of the ladies are yet alive, one ninety-two, and the 
other, her daughter, sixty-five years old ; and dozens of 
times through all the following years they have told 
about, and lived over again, that wonderful day with the 
fish on Sand Lake. 1 (|uote from their letter: 
"We remember the lovely mashed potatoes, broiled 
steak from the hotel at the other lake, and the fried fish, 
flaky cream biscuits, and strawberries and honey that we 
devoured in the charming, quaint cabin of Mrs. Campbell 
under the oak trees of the east bank. The experiences of 
that day remain vivid and precious to us after forty years. 
Oh, the prized, dissolving views of this queer life." 
And yet some people think that it is all of fishing to 
fish, and that women have no business to indulge in that 
kind of sport anyhow ! 
The next week a Mr, Rowley, from Tecumseh, came to 
the Evans Lake hotel with his wife and daughter. A lady 
boarder there took them to Sand Lake, and the prior fish- 
ing experience was repeated, with even better results. All 
four fished from one boat, with the rude poles, lines, 
sinkers and "bobbers." There was "no end" to the bites 
laodings of the bass while the minnows lasted; and 
then came the bluegills — steel-blue sunfish weighing a 
pound each, and very good fighters. At 4 P. M. Mr. 
Rowley wound his big line around his tamarack pole and 
said: "I am satisfied for once in my life." There were 
a bushel and a half of fish measured at the hotel that 
evening, and a fish feast was enjoyed by all the guests 
for two days. 
It will be understood by readers of Forest and Stream 
what a vivid, lasting "impression" was made on the boy 
by watching that angling from the shore, and seeing and 
helping to eat the fish. It was natural that during all 
the following j^ears he should occasionally cast minnows 
and frogs for bass on Sand Lake, and always with satis- 
factory results. He remembers a four-pound bass taken 
there with a ten-ounce rod in 1879, and a six-pound 
pickerel landed with such a small hook that the capture 
Vv'as owing solely to good luck. Again, in 1884, a large- 
mouth bass was taken after it had rushed under the 
boat and broken the tip of the rod — the finish of a fight 
ihat had continued ten minutes that seemed an hour. It 
NORTH SHORE, LOOKING SOUTHWEST, SAND LAKE. 
was the only large-mouth bass of hundreds taken that 
seemed to be as game as the small-mouthed bass. That 
was on another Fourth of July. 
The excellent angling and the great beauty at this 
lake soon caused many other boats to be placed there. 
Several cottages were built, and fishermen from Adrian, 
Toledo and Tecumseh spent much of the summers there 
with their families and the fish. The lake is one mile 
wide and about two miles long. The Lake Shore Railroad 
station of Pentecost, an hour's ride by rail from Toledo, 
is two miles away. The cottages are grouped in 
"colonies." William Todd and Thomas Bennett, of Chi- 
cago, are neighbors of Judge Howell, of Detroit, and 
John McKenzie, of Cleveland. The Dewey family and 
Ira Mason, of Toledo, live there through all the summer 
months. Adrian people are represented bv Robert More- 
land, E. L. Baker, C. S. Whitney, J. H. "Reynolds, Mrs. 
J. G. Mason, A, F. Wood, and H. V. C. Hart Walter 
Doan and W Hutton, from Richmond, Ind., are also 
prominent cottagers. 
And the astonishing feature of the fishing is that every 
angler, even one with crude tackle, no skill, and with 
WEST SIDE OF monigan's COVE, SAND LAKE. 
only earth-worms for bait, is sure of a good catch of rock 
bass, sunfish, bluegills and perch. And there is always 
the chance that a large black bass will add special excite- 
ment (and probable disappointment as he escapes) to the 
fisherman's daj'. This is remarkable, when it is remem- 
bered that the lake now has nearly a hundred boats 
around its shores, and that a dozen boats are fished from 
daily all summer. The black bass fishing is far less good 
than in those early years, although more of those fish can 
be taken there even yet than in any one of the other 
thirty lakes of the Prospect Region. One reason for this 
is that the State Fish Commission keeps that special lake 
exceptionally well stocked with fry. Yet the fisherman 
will have to be satisfied on many days with the pan fish, the 
rare beauty, and the exquisite sense of being with the best 
of earth — air, sky, and water, foliage, birds, wild-flowers, 
and water-lilies. For the black bass is skittish, shy, and 
uncertain, a queer, burly water-pirate who will swim 
about your boat and let you see him just to tantalize you 
into casting your hook over him. Then he will open that 
ample mouth and laugh at you, and go oflr for a swim, 
leaving you heart-sick and disconsolate. But on other 
days or hours he will rush to his doom at almost any lure. 
I have seen a pair of spectacles that, according to proof 
that amounts to a demonstration, were once swallowed by 
a black bass. For a short time the fisherman may 
have the best of sport, and presto ! a change of wind, j 
a clearing of cloudy sky, or for some cause not seen or 
known, the biting stops as suddenly as the end of a line. ^ 
And that very uncertainty is a large contributor to the 
delight of angling for this fish; you always are expecting 
a strike from a monster. \ 
My own "luck" there has often been such that I hesi- 
tate to give its details here, and so I seek refuge in the 
following facts as furnished to me by "Gil." Kennedy, \ 
of the North Shore Hotel at the lake. The fish v.'ere ' 
taken during the last summer : 
James P. Lock, of Toledo, captured nine small-mouth 
black bass in one hour, casting a phantom minnow with 
a five-foot steel rod. Gaston Mitchell of Toledo, landed 
fourteen bass weighing from one and one-half to three '* 
and three-quarter pounds each. He used frogs for bait, 
casting into the bulrushes and lily-pads at the edge of 
deep water. Walter Doan, of Richmond, took many bass, - 
his best luck being a fish of four and a quarter pounds. 
He used large frogs for bait, with sixty feet of line, and 
let the boat drift in the wind over deep water. Miss 
Annie McKenzie, of Cleveland, took five bass in thirty 
minutes, trolling with a small spinning hook. The fish 
are there ! 
The surface of Sand Lake is 370 feet above the mean 
v/ater level of Lake Erie at Toledo. This unusual eleva- 
tion for Southern Michigan, and the steady southwest 
wind over and through the hills and valleys, make camp- 
ing and angling on those wooded bluffs free from heat in 
midsummer. The shores must be seen to be appreciated. 
Dense forest, pretty coves, the exceptional clearness and 
coldness of the water (making it good for drinking pur- 
poses the year around), the gravelly bottoms and the fine 
fishing, surely that is a list of attractions ! 
And one is sure to meet exceptionally hospitable and ' 
friendly campers and brother anglers. No cottage but ' 
will welcome a sportsman to a chair on the little porch ; 
no camper but will invite him to take a stool beside or in 
the tent, and drink the lemonade or smoke the com- 
panionable cigar. And one may go there empty-handed 
and still the old landing-keeper, Silas Herbert, will sup- , 
ply him with a good boat, fishing tackle and bait, at prices ; 
that, to Eastern anglers, will seem ridiculously cheap. 
The lake has no visible outlet; but there is a general be- 
lief that it has an underground outlet into Evans Lake. 
The heavy timber is on the north and south bluffs. The 
cottages are all shaded by oak trees. And how pretty the 
lights from them look at night ! A row there in moon- 
light, with mandolin and guitar music coming from 
several other boats while the steady southwest wind 
crinkles the water's surface in unison with the sough and 
rustle from the tops of the huge oaks, is quite as fascinat- 
ing as the joys of a night on a remote Newfoundland 
stream, or a tenting experience or canoe-run on some 
angling water of a Maine wilderness. 
Sand Lake is accessible, and is in touch with the mails, 
telephones, and the wires of the telegraph companies. 
The man who takes a canoe there and wishes to sleep 
under it, can have his meals served or his own rude 
cooking outfit supplied with the best of meats and 
vegetables right at hand. 
Some effort has been made to secure authentic facts 
about the later Indian history of that region. It is sur- 
Ijrising how little is known or published, or even exists in 
manuscript form, in regard to even the latest Indian life 
there. The professors of history in several Michigan col- 
leges, including the University of Michigan, have been ' 
asked for this information in vain. It does not really ' 
exist; and while they can tell of Csesar and Pompey, of 
Lycurgus and Antipater, and swamp you with dull facts 
about the Norman Invasion, or the Merovingian Kings, 
t\nd put you to sleep with tales of wars and lives back to 
thousands of years before the Christian era, they plead 
ignorance as to the history of the Indians who lived not 
a hundred years ago right where those colleges dispense 1 
learning. A few apocryphal "legends" and absurd "tradi- 
tions" float about, and get into the summer books of some 
of the raih'oads, or are exploited in the picnic speeches of 
the region ; but real facts are wanting. There are vir- ■ 
tually no books on that subject, and the Indian history . 
of Sf)uthern Michigan will never be known. But when 
Mr. Charles F. Dewey, who yet lives in Cambridge, a few 
miles north of Sand Lake, settled there in 1828, there was 
a large Indian camp at Wolf Lake, a mile and a half to . 
the east. Mr. Dewey knew Baw Beese, the chief after 
whom Baw Beese Lake, near Hillsdale, was named; and 
Siam, that lazy old dignitary who knew how to look dig- 
nified even in his dirty dress and surprising decorations 
of feathers. Detailed mention of the dwellers in that In- 
dian village, and of their religion, dress, burial-places, 
corn-fields, weapons, tepees, trails, and methods of fishing 
and hunting, and of their marriage and death rites, is re- 
served for mention in a future issue of Forest and 
Stream. 
Numerous arrow heads, stone fish-hooks, battle axes i 
and spears, and even mortars and pestles and drills of the 
earlier people that preceded the Indians, have been found 
in the hills around Sand Lake. One, a genuine Stone Age ■ 
tool that was called an arrow head, but was really an 
ancient knife, I saw in the small collection of Dr. Joe 
Welch, of Hudson, twenty years ago. It was exquisitely 
fashioned, full of amber and gold tints when held to the 
light to see the moss agate formations running through 
it. And in the same collection were two of the "hammer- 
stones" with which those prehistoric people fashioned 
their tools from rock. The "pits" could be seen plainly, 
worn deep where the stones had been grasped by long 
vanished thumbs and fore-fingers. 
Other stone weapons and utensils show from their 1 
special formation that they were fashioned by the Indians 
themselves, hundreds of years later. But the subject is, 
so obscure, and such faint gleams of light come to the ' 
student, that only general mention of the subject is made 
here. The lack of interest in the matter, the apathy not 
only of the resident population, but of the county and 
State officers, is surprising. For example, the writer spent 
the first twenty years of his life in a house located seven 
miles north of Hudson, in the Devil's Lake and Prospect' 
Hill region. At the "four corners" formed by two busy 
country highways, and not twenty rods from that house, , 
stood the horny, Darkless shell of a black walnut stump — 
lT,uge, obscure, unnoticed — its location in a fence-cortier i 
