June, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
327 
rising and in this way contribute to their 
comfort of mind and body. I doubt, how- 
ever, that these yearnings, justified 
though they may be, will have fulfillment, 
for it is truly reprehensible to lie long 
abed in camp.) 
Frank was indulgent — they’re all kind 
at heart— and even scolded me for hot 
getting him up first. Hastily disposing of 
our early lunch we made our way in a 
bleak mist to the creek at bare dawn and 
entering the boat resumed the tactics of 
the evening before in the effort to bring 
the “Big Un” to net. It would be a 
fitting climax to this account of our dry- 
fly drifting, were I able to relate the 
taking of the worthy trout of our per- 
sistent quest. Candor, however, compels 
the acknowledgment of failure to obtain 
further evidence of his existence than 
that affored by the circumstance of the 
preceding twilight. Smaller fry came to 
the lure whether cast wet or dry but the 
king of them all remained in the seclu- 
sion of his lair. 
O UR fishing was at an end. We re- 
paired to camp and cooked a sub- 
stantial breakfast as an addition 
to the earlier makeshift. Then we broke 
camp a#d packed the outfit preparatory 
to leaving. 
“I’ll bet you’ve got places in mind for 
drifting another time,” said Frank. 
“Lots of ’em but one in particular that 
was made for the work,” I replied. And 
I depictured this scene from the not so 
distant past: 
A mad river in northern wilds with a 
canoe coursing down the turbulent miles 
of watery hill, paddles at times plying 
vigorously in guidance of the craft and 
setting pole ever at hand on the thwarts 
for instant use. 
The foot of the rapids is reached and 
the canoe plunges between boulders amid 
spray and spume safely into the eddying 
head of a deadwater. Without arrest of 
headway in rythmic unison the paddles 
urge the canoe down the winding lane of 
curbed river, with bordering conifer 
cedar and hardwood casting shadows on 
the deep, dark water. Mile after mile, 
never pausing, the course winds around 
the bends, by jutting shingle and past the 
backwater below. The slack current is 
such as the dry-fly angler would like to 
see it always. 
In a shaded bend where a spring brook 
enters the black waters a huge shape 
lazily rolls up to a dropping insect; a sec- 
ond form disturbs the surface, and a 
third; for the trout are ascending the 
stream en route for the summer spring 
holes whence the canoe departed at break 
of day, and to the number of fish there 
is no limit, nor to their size. Mighty 
trout are harbored in these sombre bends 
and but the floating of a fly is needed to 
bring joy to the anglers’ heart. Still the 
canoe hurries on its way. 
The last of the four miles of tortuous, 
entering deadwater has about been 
passed with aid of sweeping paddles and 
the roar of rapids is heard beyond when 
off the entrance of a small icy inlet the 
bowman cries aloud, “It’s a crime, that’s 
what it is, a crime!” and the grizzled 
guide in the stern feelingly replies, “Gor- 
ry! it’s hard, damned hard.” For time 
When Money Can’t Buy It 
Meal time out in the open places means one thing — 
hot food and plenty of it. There may not be a farm 
or village store within gunshot, but you can have 
in your knapsack a compact supply of rich, creamy 
Condensed Milk, unsweetened Evaporated Milk and 
Borden’s Coffee. 
^3c?xlz4t4 Coffee 
Blended coffee, milk and sugar — all in one 
convenient can. Ready for any meal. You 
simply add boiling hot water and serve. 
EAGLE BRAND 
Three generations of campers vouch 
for it. It meets any milk and sugar 
requirement. Steaming hot coffee 
with Eagle Brand to flavor makes 
a meal complete. 
73crtlwiA 
Evaporated Milk 
Pure, rich milk — unsweetened and ster- 
ilized, always ready for cooking use. 
Use undiluted in coffee. It’s a handy 
can in a pack where space is needed. 
Camp Cooking — a cook book prepared especially for campers, by a camper 
will be sent free. Write for it. 
THE BORDEN COMPANY 
MILK PRODUCTS 
