FOREST AND STREAM 
437 
Down the Crow to Lake Lavieille 
Fishing Trip By Canoe in Algonquin Park, Canada 
D OWN Crow River to Lake Lavieille is a de¬ 
lightful paddling trip with comparatively 
little portaging. It is through a wild and 
interesting river and lake country, and we did not 
meet a person during the week we passed in that 
region. 
With everything packed the night before, we 
got an early start, leaving the comfortable rang¬ 
ers’ cabin, “Sunnyside,” on the Great Opeongo 
Lake as the sun was rising. Our course was 
through the north arm of Opeongo Lake, two 
“lift-overs” to beaver ponds and a good portage 
to Proulx Lake. Then we had a nice long paddle 
down the winding Crow River to Little Crow 
Lake, a pretty body of water that looked good 
for fish. A narrow opening brought us to Crow 
Lake, a beauty, which we reached at i o’clock. 
Catching two nice salmon trout we went ashore 
for dinner and rest at an old logging camp where 
raspberries were plentiful. Setting up the fold¬ 
ing baker we made a raspberry shortcake, which 
with a lot of fried fish well browned in corn meal, 
By T. M. Tobin. 
Photographs by the Author 
back. It was a long portage on high ground to 
a log shack that we reached at 6 o'clock, tired 
and pretty wet going through the bush. It was 
a roomy place, half roofed over with a dirt floor. 
We built a big fire in the open end and made 
bough beds under the covered section. A splen¬ 
did spring nearby furnished water. After a good 
feed we got thoroughly dried out before turning 
in, and by stacking a lot of big wood on the fire 
it burned all night. 
It was a splendid morning as we swung out 
into the stream and an hour later we were in 
Lake Lavieille. This is a broad lake thirteen 
miles long, very deep, and thirty-pound salmon 
trout have been taken from its waters. The map 
indicated a shelter hut on the opposite shore, so 
we headed east, meanwhile dropping our deep 
trolls. We landed three good ones quickly and 
had high hopes of getting hold of some of the 
big fellows when the wind, which had been 
freshening from the start, was blowing so hard 
we had to put up our fishing outfits and make 
lake than the map indicated and we had some 
difficulty in finding it on account of its being 
pretty well back from the shore. At every likely 
looking landing one of the party would take a 
run inland. After several prospecting trips the 
place was located just as the sun was beginning to 
drop back of the hills, and we came upon an 
abandoned log cabin in the center of an extensive 
clearing now grown up to small white birches, 
seedling pines and a tangle of raspberry bushes 
heavy with ripening fruit that flavored the air 
with a peculiarly appetizing smell. 
The building was different and altogether bet¬ 
ter than anything we had ever seen in the woods. 
Its massive pine timbers were beautifully axed 
to a flat surface and the interlocking corners 
dove-tailed like cabinet work by some master 
hand. It had three sizable windows with glass 
intact. The roof was tight, but the big wooden 
ch.mney, laid up cob-house fashion, had nearly 
fallen away through decay.. The door swung 
readily to our touch, creaking on woden hinges, 
They Had Experienced a Strenuous Day. The Comfortable Rangers’ Cabin. 
made us feel pretty good. Four hours later we 
were well down the Crow River making camp at 
an old dam. The water in this stream is clear, 
remarkably cold, and it was a delight to follow 
its windings. We saw many deer, and once, in 
quietly rounding a sharp bend, came upon a 
young fawn among the rushes, but a camera shot 
at close range failed to secure a picture on ac¬ 
count of the protective coloring of the animal 
in a setting of that kind. 
We made good progress the next forenoon, 
though we covered four portages. Partridge 
were numerous and we started them up at every 
turn. At noon rain drove us to the shelter of 
an old shack at the beginning of a long drop in 
the river full of boulders. It was late in the 
afternoon before the rain let up, and then there 
was considerable delay in locating the trail. By 
following down the river banks Don and Corn- 
stock picked up the lower end and then worked 
for the shore. By running under the lee of an 
island we managed to make the mainland and 
mighty glad to get out of the whi'tecaps without 
bothering to find the shelter hut. The wind in¬ 
creased in fury and we camped for the night 
where we landed. 
The lake was fine next day and we paddled 
leisurely for Lake Clear, fishing occasionally and 
making some good catches of salmon trout. Much 
to our surprise we caught a fine red speckled 
trout, deep trolling. Lake Lavieille narrows up 
with many deep bays and puzzling crooks and 
turns before the short portage to Lake Clear is 
reached. This is a beautiful little lake, well 
named, as the water is very clear. The shores 
are bold, well wooded and there are several pic¬ 
turesque islands. It was late afternoon when we 
made the short portage and paddled along the 
right shore in search of a shelter hut as shown 
on the map. It proved to be farther down the 
and we found ourselves in a big room occupying 
the whole of the cabin and we looked about with 
interest. The walls were even better axed than 
the outside walls, some of the clear pine timbers 
facing thirty-three inches. In one corner were 
some built-in bunks and there was a cupboard, 
a few shelves and two long, low benches for 
seats. A pile of chains and old axes littered one 
corner and an iron kettle was near the fire¬ 
place. That was a dream of its kind, that fire¬ 
place. though considerably dilapidated. The old- 
fashioned early-day kind you read about in story 
books, big enough to hold a stack of wood with 
an ample opening overhead to take care of the 
smoke. Through this opening the fading after¬ 
noon light found its way. The spacious hearth 
was of big flat stones. We stood in wonder tak¬ 
ing in the peculiarities of that homey old cabin 
among the raspberry bushes. Undisturbed for 
years, dust was everywhere. Lengthening shadows 
