Sept. 21, 191 2 
FOREST AND STREAM 
371 
less than twenty minutes there were several 
canoes moving back and forth on the lake. The 
fishing was great. One bad feature about going 
such a distance from home to fish is that you 
can’t show them to your neighbors. The lake 
fishermen brought back with them five whoppers 
ranging from four to eight pounds apiece. It 
proved to be just enough for the party. My, 
how those fish tasted. Great big salmon steaks 
coated with a layer of corn meal; it was a feed 
fit for a king. 
Thursday morning saw us up bright and 
early, as plans for breaking camp had been made 
the night before. The sad news that one of 
our number was seriously ill and had to be sent 
back to Joe Lake for medical treatment changed 
our plans. The stay on the island was prolonged. 
Our two huskiest members volunteered to take 
the lake. We arrived in due time at the portage 
where the trail led through a beautiful woods 
quite swampy in some sections and high and 
rocky in others. It was somewhat harder and 
longer than the other portages, but the fellows 
were beginning to harden up and were anxious 
for this portage to test their improved physical 
condition. About an hour later we were ready 
to start our trip over the beautiful little Otter 
Slide Lake. Through Otter Creek we went, then 
past the beautiful beaver dam and into Otter 
Slide Lake. On all sides were enchanting little 
islands which almost tempted us to select a camp 
site on this lake, but our destination was White 
Trout Lake by Saturday. 
At sundown we arrived at the shelter huts 
at the head of- the lake. While the cooking 
crew were preparing supper, some of the fellows 
head the fragments of cloud broke, rejoicing 
into bits and sailed off into the horizon. Flecks 
of living flame rose against stratum after stratum 
of vivid cloud gradually fading in an infinity of 
distance. Overhead every shred of vapor burned 
with intense coloring. Just above the spot where 
the sun disappeared was gold fire only a few 
shades less bright than the sun itself, and it 
lingered after the rest had faded. Then the 
purple cloud banks broke into smouldering shades 
of red and crimson. Suddenly every color faded 
and the purple hills grew darker against a faint, 
nondescript brightness still lingering. Then 
there came into view the clear majestic outlines 
of the great pines and balsam shading into the 
less stalwart birch, hemlock and cedar. Shadows 
grew longer and longer, the voices grew quiet, 
then all was still. Twilight had come and after 
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THE RIGHT WAY. 
THE WRONG WAY. 
the sick man back to a camp on Joe Lake where 
a physician was in attendance. It was the first 
trip back to civilization, and the mail sack was 
part of the luggage. With good-byes and good 
luck the canoe started southward. 
Algonquin National Park is full of numer¬ 
ous species of birds, but of all of them the loons 
were most interesting to us. All of our water 
trips had been paddling trips, but a tantalizing 
breeze tempted two of the men to try sailing. 
They improvised a poncho sail and started south¬ 
ward to meet the ambulance crew. In about half 
an hour all returned to the island, and we heard 
the disappointing news that our sick friend would 
have to stay at the Hotel Algonquin under the 
doctor’s care for a few days. 
Friday morning the weather conditions did 
not permit moving. We had rain and thunder 
and lightning all morning. No difficulty was ex¬ 
perienced, however, in cooking the morning meal 
because our foresighted leader had stored away 
some dry wood the night before. It cleared up 
about noon, and there was great bustle and ex¬ 
citement on the island, for orders had been given 
to break camp and move to the head of the lake 
to the dreaded big portage. At 1 :.to we said 
good-bye to “Camp Feed-’Em-Up’’ and. soon 
were in the middle of the big northern bay of 
erected the tents and prepared balsam beds. For 
some reason 1 had not slept very heavily dur¬ 
ing the night, and about 4 o'clock in the morn¬ 
ing I heard something stirring near the fireplace. 
I crawled carefully to the front of the tent, 
which was about ten feet from the fireplace, and 
there beheld a beautiful buck that had been 
attracted by some salt which had been spilled 
the night before. His instinct soon told him 
that he was being observed. He looked up, his 
gaze met mine, and we stared for a full minute 
at each other, then he bolted into the underbrush. 
That day was an ideal one and soon after 
breakfast we were on our way over the creek. 
Arriving at the second portage we struck over 
a path that led through a beautiful dense woods, 
up hill and down hill, through swampy ground 
and over rocky outcrops, over trees and around 
stumps, a distance of one-half mile. The third 
portage began to have its telling effects. The 
spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. 
Nevertheless we finally entered White Trout 
Lake, none the worse for our strenuous exer¬ 
cise. It had rained during the morning and most 
of the afternoon. At about 6 o’clock a hopeful 
brightening of the gray roof suggested a clear¬ 
ing. About seven a glorious newly created sun¬ 
set streamed out under a straight rift, and over- 
a few minutes around the cpmp-fire we crawled 
into our blankets for the night. Together with 
the cry of the loon, the call of the deer, and 
the howl of the wolf, we fell into that delight¬ 
ful sleep only known to the lover of the wild. 
Next day being Sunday we did nothing but 
eat, rest and read and write letters. During the 
afternoon the cook prepared a treat in the form 
of a batter of candy which "panned” out all 
right. That evening, after I had retired, I was 
awakened by a scraping noise on the beach. A11 
investigation proved that it was one of the fel¬ 
lows taking a midnight paddle. It was an im¬ 
pressive sight, that canoe moving noiselessly 
among the moon’s silvery water and then vanish¬ 
ing in the darkness. The report from a very 
reliable source stated that it was 3 a. m. when 
he took off his shoes and sneaked into his tent, 
a child of habit. Camp awoke earlier than usual 
and breakfast was all over at 6:30. The last 
lap of the trip north was called off on account 
of a lumber jam in the Pitewawa River. It 
was just as well, for most of the fellows were 
inclined to stay at the beach camp a few days. 
About nine in the morning five of the fellows 
started out in two canoes for McLaughlin’s 
Depot, some five or six miles up the lake. They 
(Continued on page 380.) 
