12 
FOREST AND STREAM 
January, 1921 
THE GAME RANGES OF NIPIGON 
JUST NORTH OF LAKE SUPERIOR THERE LIES A LAND THAT HOLDS 
GREAT POSSIBILITIES FOR THE SPORTSMEN OF THE MIDDLE WEST 
By W. C. MILLAR 
S TEPPING off at Nipigon on a lovely 
morning in October, 1919, I looked 
around with curiosity at the place I 
had heard so much about, and under 
such strange circumstances. 
I had just been discharged from the 
C. E. F. with which I had served as a 
sniper and scout, and it was while serv- 
ing in France and Flanders that I had 
heard all about Nipigon and its famous 
hunting and fishing grounds In the pa- 
trol I was on were two Indians from the 
Nipigon district — a district which sent 
most of its young Indians to France — , 
and while lying in the dugouts at Ypres 
and Kemmel we were discussing, as usu- 
al, HOME — its pastimes, sports, etc. 
My Indian chums told me of the dif- 
ferent lakes and woods in the vicinity 
of Nipigon, where they used to hunt, fish 
and trap. I remember that just after 
one of them — Joe, by name — enlisted, 
and had finished his shooting course, a 
top scorer, he was on the A. W. O. L. 
roll for three weeks, and then walked 
nonchalantly into camp one morning a 
few days before we were to leave for 
Overseas. When brought up before the 
Colonel next day on a charge of being 
absent without leave and taking Govern- 
ment property with him (he had taken 
his rifle) , and asked what he had to say 
for himself, he calmly told the O. C. that 
he had been home to get the deer 
and moose which he had always been in 
the habit of getting every year for his 
aged father and mother, the former 
being too old to hunt. 
He was given a lecture by our kind- 
hearted Colonel and was let off. Poor 
Joe, he is now with his forefathers in 
the Happy Hunting Grounds, having 
fallen at the battle of Ypres m 1916. 
Nipigon is a little village of a few hun- 
dred souls, seventy miles east of Fort 
William, and is famous for its splendid 
fishing, Nipigon Lake and Nipigon River 
being the greatest haunts of trout in the 
world. 
It is to Nipigon that most of the nota- 
bles who visit Canada are taken for a 
sample of Canadian fishing. On the 
visit of that popular young soldier, H. 
R. H. the Prince of Wales, to Canada, it 
was to Nipigon he came, and enjoyed 
some very successful fishing and duck 
shooting. 
E MERGING from the crowd of plat- 
form idlers I recognized my old 
chum Xavier. Although we had not 
met since 1916, a shake of the hand and 
a “Good Morning” was all that passed 
between us as he led us to the waiting 
wagon, into which we dumped our 
dunnage, and were soon off, striking into 
a well-travelled trail through the woods, 
which led us to a landing stage at the 
side of Lake Superior. 
Here we tumbled out (there were 
eight of us) and Xavier told his young 
brother, who had accompanied us, to 
Deer swimming in lake 
take the wagon and team back to their 
homestead, which was not far off. 
At the landing-stage a 25 foot gaso- 
line launch was tied up, and to this we 
transferred ourselves and dunnage, leav- 
ing very little vacant space. 
With a chug-chug of protest from the 
motor we were off up the lake, keeping 
near the shore for the first few miles. 
The scenery was beautiful. As far as 
the eye could see were miles of trees in 
all their variegated autumn tints. The 
gorgeous colored maple trees, the stately 
silver birch and the towering pines, with 
their dome-shaped top of green needles, 
standing like sentinels over all. We left 
the shore after a while and made for 
Bear Point, where we disembarked and 
made for the cabin where we were to 
put up that week. 
At one time this cabin belonged to one 
of the big lumber companies but as most 
of the timber had been taken out of the 
district, it had been used for the past 
few years by any chance hunting or 
fishing party which might happen along. 
We very soon had a cheery fire roar- 
ing in the box stove which was set up in 
the middle of the big living-room and 
kitchen combined, partitioned off from 
what had at one time been the camp 
storehouse. 
We busied ourselves chopping wood, 
getting in fresh balsam boughs for the 
sleeping bunks and by the time darkness 
set in, everything was ship-shape, and 
a most appetizing supper set upon the 
table. The bracing air of the North had 
taken effect on us, and soon heads began 
to nod and presently we were all in our 
bunks dreaming of the big game which 
we were soon to bring down. 
r HE following morning we were up 
bright and early, and as the open 
season was still two days off, 
Xavier and I went for a trip as far as 
the river. 
I was the only one carrying a shoot- 
ing implement, and, as it was a kodak, 
the game laws would not interfere. 
On our trip back over the lake we 
sighted three objects swimming towards 
us from the north shore. We could 
scarcely believe Xavier, who, owing to 
his keener eyesight, knew at once that 
they were deer. We changed our course 
a little and came right toward them. 
Seeing us, the deer also changed their 
course, making back to where they 
had come from. Putting on more 
power, we gained upon them. Upon 
closer approach we could see that the 
group was composed of an old buck 
with his doe and well-grown son. I 
took two good pictures, one of them 
snapped at a distance of a few feet. 
I was glad we had no rifles in the 
boat, as I am afraid if we had some of 
the boys might have been tempted to 
move the date on the calendar two 
days ahead. 
Personally I was pleased, as I will 
never forget the picture those beautiful 
animals made, gamely trying to outdis- 
tance our powerful motor boat, and, 
even when the bow was within a few 
feet of them, still keeping up the losing 
game without a whimper, although I 
imagined I could see a look of fear in 
the eyes of the doe as she looked side- 
ways at us approaching her family. 
The shooting at that time of any of 
those splendid animals, fighting so 
gamely for life, a mile out on the lake, 
and away from their native element, 
the forest, would have caused me a 
pang of regret for many a day. 
T HE day of the opening of the deer 
season broke clear and bright, 
with a light covering of snow on 
the ground that had fallen during the 
night. We set out in two parties, one 
going up one side of the lake and the 
other taking an old tote-trail through 
the woods. The party I was with went 
up by the lake shore, taking the canoe. 
Coming to a small creek which j 
emptied into the lake we disembarked 
and drew the boat up on the beach. 
Going up the creek we startled some 
game which could be heard crashing 1 
away through the underbrush. Xavier 
told us it was moose. We followed the 
creek until we came out on a flat piece 
cf ground with over a foot of slough 
grass growing on it. At the far end ; 
