Jan. 2, 1904.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
rri3 
"J"st as glad we're on an island." 
"They wouldn't attack you," and. Hector fell asleep 
again. The subject had exhausted all interest for him. 
But I lay awake and heard it several times. There is 
something uncanny and '*s]iivery" about a wolf howl, 
and I mentally included the beast among wild animals 
1 do not want to know. 
Five days we were on Hollow Lake; five daj's that 
stand out in bold relief from the seven thousand odd 
days I have seen come and go; five days to draw a 
ring around upon memory's calendar, and to mark, 
"The five I would rather live over again." 
And this is what we did. 
Long before sunrise Hector would waken. He would 
begin the day by stretching his arms and remarking, 
"Humph!" in a tone of voice loud enough to rouse 
me. Then Hector would open the slit in the tent, put 
his head out, pull it in again, lay back in his blanket 
and say "Humph!" again. Then I would put my head 
outside and hastily draw it back again, for everything 
looked gray, and damp, and raw, and miserable. The 
mist would be rising from the lake, and the grass 
around would glisten with dew. But with the first 
faint ray of sun Hector and I threw aside the warm 
blankets and crawled out into the chilly air of the new 
morning. For there are but twenty-four hours in a day 
and a night, and we had a great many things to do. 
Everything was still and calm at that time in the 
morning, and the smoke from our fire curled lazily 
high_ in the air. And while we ate our breakfast of 
porridge, pork and beans, and hard tack, the silence 
would be broken by a splash. "There's a salmon," 
Hector would observe, and after we had washed up 
we would put the canoe in the water and paddle gently 
past the high rocks, where the deep, cold water was, 
our trawling spoon spinning invitingly looft. astern. 
Presently we would feel a jar and the canoe stop for 
a second, and then the man who held the line would 
grunt and say: "Caught on bottom, I think. Back 
up!" We would paddle slowly back, taking in line 
hand over hand until it went down,' perpendicularly- 
into the water. We would haul up on it — a dull, dead 
mass — until just as we got it to the surface, a great 
gray thing woi'ld leap out, and kick about most vig- 
orously, which is the way of salmon. Quickly he 
would be pulled aboard, resisting always, until after 
repeated blows upon the head with the edge of a 
paddJe, his spirit was broken, and he lay quiet upon 
the bottom, except for an occasional convulsive shake. 
We would take him ashore, and while I mixed some 
lemonade_ as refreshment, Hector would clean him in 
some quaint Indian way he had read about in a book — 
splitting him up the back and removing the backbone 
intact — after which we concealed him under water until 
supper time. 
Then the evening meal having been provided and 
all care upon that score removed, we paddled around 
the lake, exploring bays and inlets, and testing the 
echoes. Sometimes we landed, and did a little bush 
ranging or inspected one or other of the deserted lum- 
ber camps. Once we climbed to the summit of a high, 
rocky island and beheld the lake, as a little pond, 
away beneath us. We rolled a rock over the edge 
and heard it tearing and crashing down the side, and 
at last fall into the lake with a mighty splash. 
I remarked to Hector what a fortunate thing it was 
Deserted Lumber Camp— Hollow Lake. 
that his head had not been in the way of that rock, 
and he replied pleasantly that it was rather unfortunate 
than otherwise, that mine had not. 
But about noon the strong west wind, which has 
been getting ready all morning, would burst forth, and 
as it swept down the lake, the calm, lily-pond appear- 
ance would speedily be replaced by that of a very angry 
httle ocean, which is a noted characteristic of Hollow 
Lake. Then it was that we paddled for the shelter of 
our island, and very wet indeed we were before reach- 
ing it, for no canoe could struggle again those seas 
without taking some of them in over the gunwale. 
It was time for lucch then, and we would get out the 
hard tack, cheese and chocolate and make some more 
lemonade— good, strong stuff; two lemons to the pint, 
and two pints each! 
All afternoon the storms kept up, making paddling 
for pleasure an impossibility, bo, always after lunch, 
we selected a grassy spot in the shade, and carried the 
bags and blankets there, and lay upon them and talked 
about things. We looked over the lake and spoke of 
the great amount of good the fresh air was doing us 
and of how much the other fellows, with their ledgers 
and high collars, and civilized ways of eating, were to 
be pitied. 
And then we talked of all the books we had read 
pd all the songs we had hesr4 aiid aU the "shows": 
CHART OF COURSE TAKEN BY C. S". HOWARD CANOE CRUISE "HECTOR AND ME." 
we had seen, and all the fellows we knew. Then we 
talked French for a while, until we had talked all we 
knew, which didn't take very long. Hector asked me 
if it was that I had "seen the infants of the butcher 
in the carriage of our brother's three rosy daughters, 
monsieur?" to which I replied, "No monsieur, but 
when I was in London I talked often with monsieur, 
your father's friend, and his charming red dog. I al- 
ways enjoyed the French immensely. . Hector said 
that a little knowledge of the language would hurt 
no one, and certainly ours has never injured lisl 
Often, when we grew tired of conversation, we shot 
with a catapult. It is impossible to hit anything with 
a catapult. I kn ow that it is impossible, because I 
tried and couldn't do it. Once, after repeated unsuc- 
cessful attempts to hit something. Hector drew the 
elastic to his head and sunk a heavy buck shot deeply 
into the frame of the door, and then drew a small circle 
around it, and around the small circle, larger ones. 
Hector said he did not so much mind being a bad 
shot, but he had a deeply rooted objection to other 
people's finding it out. 
All this seems very ridiculous and silly, no doubt, 
but as I say to such of my friends who take it upon 
themselves to tell me of it, after all it was our canoe 
trip and our holidays, and we acted according to our 
ideas. Our ideas are not necessarily inferior to theirs 
(or to yours), because of any difference that may ex- 
ist. I don't suppose there ever was another trip like 
this one. 
About four o'clock the wind would have ceased and 
the lake gone down, so we would take our milk pail 
and a canvas bag and go up the lake to where Mrs. 
Hank lived in her one-roomed log shanty, with her 
little boy. Her husband lived there, too, but he was a 
rather less important pfirt of the establishment than 
the cow, which dwelt in a lean-to hard by. Mrs. Hank 
was the management. She used to sell us'- milk and 
eggs, and bread, too, when she had any. Once she 
produced a slab of curious green-tinted flesh and as- 
surea us that it was pork. I looked at Hector, raising 
my eyebrows inquiringly, but he shook his head, so 
•;I said I guessed we had enough to do lis. It re- 
;quired to be cooked in some complicated way, and 
- as we did not understand it, we let it alone, which is 
an excellent rule to follow. 
; The first time we called Mrs. Hank was not ex- 
pecting visitors, and when we stood grinning in the 
doorway, and looking into the room, askea we 
could buy some things, she looked bewildered, as 
though the idea of anyone's requiring food on Hollow 
Lake was an impossible one, and not to be seriously 
considered. - 
An overpowering sense of the amusing side of it 
had swept over the dull intelligence of Hank, in his 
chair at the opposite side of the room, and manifested 
Itself in an ear-to-ear grin. But Mrs. Hank speedily 
recOTered^^and her natural hospitality asserted itself. 
" Hank!" she said, and accompanied it with a frown 
and a wink. 
Hank saw what the matter was instantly. (So did 
we. Mrs. Hank had but two chairs.) 
He jumped to his feet at his wife's command, as a 
man and a husband ought. 
"A fella' gets tired o' sittin' all day," he observed. 
Then Mrs. Hank gave her chair to Hector and 
Hanks to me, and whenever we came for supplies 
afterward the chairs were ready waiting for us. There 
we would sit while Mrs. Hank got the things together 
- and talk to the little boy— a bullet-headed "youth who, 
seated upon the floor thumb in mouth, used to gaze 
at us with a fixedness of stare that was highly flatter- 
ing. 
I^How^old are you?" demanded Hector once. 
"Five." responded the youth. 
"No. you aren't. You're only four." 
"I betcha!" 
"I betchai" 
"No, I aint; I'm five." 
"Humph!" Hector reflected. (He was shaken but 
not yet convinced.) "You used to be only four," he 
argued. 
The boy was beaten. Hector was too astute for 
him. 
"How did you know?" he asked. 
Hector, shook his he^d att^ snijled knowingly, 
. Oh, I knew," . F.: 
"Sornebody musta told you," persisted the child. He 
felt injured. Hector had inside information and it 
wasn't fair. . 
Mrs. Hank was a very nice person, but in common 
with every other mother that I ever knew, could not 
refrain from boasting about her child. • 
"Maybe you'll be tellin' a story," she used to say, 
"or singin' a song, and he won't go to bed till the 
story's told or the song's sung, and maybe next day 
he'll he tellin' you somethin' about it." 
This indication of dawning genius in her offspring 
was clearly too much for her limited comprehension, 
and she would look at the boy proudly, and then shake 
her head and sigh. 
"Five, he is. Six next birthday, if all's well. I put 
him into pants to-day," she announced. "Stand up 
and show the gentlemen your pants, Dave." And 
Dave, -shy at this allusion to the but recent acquire- 
ment of his garments, slowly rose to his feet, revolved 
before us several times, drew attention to the pockets 
and then resumed his place upon the floor, thumb in 
mouth as Lefore. 
"'Sugar,' ses you!" Mrs. Hank continued in mock 
disgust. "Did ever you see such a boy for sugar? 
Here, then! Now don't you let me hear 'sugar' out 
of you for a month or I'll sugar you!" And Dave 
The Picturesque Person. 
took his thumb from his mouth and replaced it with 
the sugar. 
The child's accorriplishments were so many, that 
Mrs. Hank's recital of them took some time, and it 
was generally after six when we began our four-mile 
paddle to camp. 
W*e cooked our supper as soon as we reached the 
island. Hector used always to attend to the fish him- 
self. (He used to say that he wouldn't trust his twin 
brother with it.) It was a most interesting spectacle 
to see him prepare it. He would build one of his little 
Indian fires between two stones, and would place the 
plate upon it. with some bacon fat, and when the latter 
had dissolved, would lay the fish in it with some oat 
meal. Then he would kneel close to the fire, gazing 
earnestly at the fish as it lay fri^^ziing, from time to 
time prodding it with a stick and occasionally bldwins: 
the fire furiously. 
"How is she?" I would ask. 
Hector would place his nose close to the plate and 
inhale vigorously. 
"Oh, she's coming along all right." 
In a few moments he would pull the il»te from the 
fipe with: his felt hat. 
"I guess she'll do now. Pass up the plates." 
- 8? CONCXUBSpt] " .J 
