Sept. 28, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
395 
LAKE LONG. 
no time, after fully satisfying the gnawings of 
hunger with several flapjacks, in testing my light 
fishing rod in a contest with the trout. The 
canoe was soon gliding along the wooded shore, 
occasionally delaying its progress to accept the 
invitation of a jumping trout. The angler knows 
too well the sensation when the line is pulled 
away with a determined jerk, while impatient at 
the tardy concession from the reel the pole is 
bent and the fight is on. My fighting blood was 
up, and many an exciting battle took place be¬ 
fore ambition was sated and an ample supply 
secured to appease hunger. 
A plunge in the lake served as a tonic to 
stimulate the blood and as an appetizer in place 
of a cocktail. This is the best substitute for a 
cocktail I can suggest. When the weather is 
real frosty, it is like a cocktail well frapped. 
This prescription is apt to be rated lightly by 
some because it costs nothing, by others as a 
kill or cure remedy, and by the wise and experi¬ 
enced as a panacea for all human maladies. 
It might be advisable to briefly describe my 
guides whose personality might interest the 
reader. One was of French extraction, but like 
most people of his race in Canada had so many 
ancestors born on this continent that he felt al¬ 
most as much of an American as a redskin. 
Bebe Liret was perfectly at home in the wilder¬ 
ness and constantly pointed to tracks of various 
kinds of animals both great and small. He knew 
whether fresh or old, whether made to-day, yes¬ 
terday or earlier. His trained eye could pick out 
the partridge in spite of its protective coloration, 
resting upon a limb, the duck seeking refuge 
amid the tall rank grass or the diving loon ever 
baffling the aim of the sportsman by diving just 
as the bead is drawn, and always reappearing 
half a mile away from the spot where he ought 
to be. 
The other guide was a tireless man and 
powerful, by the name of Cornelius Shannahan. 
Not all of the French-Canadian guides are par¬ 
ticularly well acquainted with English, and some 
one expressed surprise that Shannahan seemed 
to understand it so well. Perhaps he knew Eng¬ 
lish before he did French; this might help to 
clear up the mystery. 
For a few days I diverted myself around 
Lake Long, occasionally taking the trail to keep 
in condition and try my .22 rifle on partridge. 
These birds are not as tame as the fool hen of 
the West, but they are not nearly so wild as the 
partridge or grouse of the Eastern States. The 
fool hen I used to consider about the same as 
a target. I would step off a number of paces 
and shoot at the head. The bird would often 
give me three shots. I laid down a rule very 
similar to one suggested by a' slim Irishman to 
a stout man with whom he was about to fight 
a duel with pistols, the latter complaining of 
the advantage possessed by his smaller opponent. 
“Now, I will make two chalk lines on your body 
about the width of one arm,’’ observed the Celt. 
“But suppose you hit me outside of that?” ob¬ 
jected the other. “Oh, well, that won’t count.” 
If I shot the body to pieces instead of decapitat¬ 
ing the bird, I considered it the same as missing. 
Having become surfeited with the fishing at 
Lake Long, which was almost too abundant, I 
took my departure to Lake Seymour, but this 
was like jumping from the frying-pan into the 
fire. I am almost tempted to say that it would 
be more like sport for one to cast the line into 
the water and see if it was possible to keep the 
fly from being caught by a fish. Fishing with 
a stout rod and strong line, discarding all idea 
of exercising the angler’s skill, fishing the same 
way as Paddy played the fiddle, by main strength, 
and I would be afraid to say how many speckled 
beauties could be caught. 
Lake Long has been raised five or six feet 
by the construction of a dam at its outlet. This 
piece of engineering work resulted from the in¬ 
dustry of a colony of beavers. A log cabin built 
on the border of the lake before the dam was 
constructed is now in the lake and useless for 
habitation. The law protects the beaver. For 
a number of years it has been unlawful to de¬ 
stroy them. On the other hand, the beaver exer¬ 
cises his right, utterly regardless of his neigh¬ 
bors. He disregards the legal principle —Sic 
utere tuo ut alienum non Iccdas (So use your own 
that you may not injure another’s). 
To vary the monotony of too much good 
luck I made excursions over the mountain trails. 
Hunting ducks with a .22 rifle certainly did vary 
the monotony of too much good luck. I soon 
began to long for the monotony of good luck in 
place of bad luck. Change of monotony is in 
itself a kind of variety. 
One of my tramps took me by a small lake 
where I saw a red doe disporting herself un¬ 
conscious of our presence. A brief survey of 
her graceful movements and the guide and my¬ 
self pursued our way to a favorite haunt of 
some blackhead ducks. We discovered them 
quite a distance off. They discovered us about 
as soon and made good use of their discovery. 
I was too far to secure accurate aim and was, 
therefore, unable to vary our substantial but 
limited menu. Resuming our journey on the 
trail, we observed the fresh tracks of three 
moose which had evidently become alarmed at 
the shooting. I was disappointed in not being 
able to get a closer view of these members of 
the progressive party. Upon retracing our steps 
we came somewhat abruptly within close quar¬ 
ters to a fawn standing with stern toward us 
and lifting its nose and sharp-pointed ears high 
in the air, evidently trying to catch the scent of 
something, may be ours. We stopped for a 
space barely eighty yards distant. Its head had 
turned to one side, bringing us in plain view. 
Having satisfied its curiosity, it disappeared in 
the forest. 
The charm of an outing in this club preserve 
consists chiefly in the simple and natural sur¬ 
roundings. The rough mountain trails offer no 
serious obstacles to one who is fond of a little 
strenuous effort, just enough to tone up the 
physique. No effort has been made to cater to 
pampered tastes by introducing luxuries that are 
not in keeping with the life of the backwoods. 
The balsam bows have not been supplanted with 
the spring mattress, log cabins have not given 
way to more artificial constructions. The canoe 
is the only means of conveyance upon the lakes; 
naphtha launches have not been introduced. The 
beaver constructs his dwelling upon the shore or 
dams up the exit of a lake, as if he thought he 
shared with man a proprietary right to alter the 
course of nature. 
This condition of things might not suit peo¬ 
ple who flatter their imagination that they enjoy 
rustic surroundings by borrowing terms suited 
to primitive life; who erect a hundred thousand 
dollar mansion fitted out with every modern 
luxury and call it a camp. 
Making acquaintances is a trade; holding 
friends is an art.—Munsey. 
BEBE LIRET, GUIDE. 
