130 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 22, 1911. 
the proper impressario head guide or hotel 
keeper, say to South Milford or Annapolis, and 
arrange for a guide and canoe for each man of 
your party for a certain number of days. Such 
is the geography of that country that you can 
plan on any duration of the trip and come out 
when you wish, though passing through the real 
wilderness all the time by waters full of trout 
in spring and fall from Aug. 20 on. Such a 
trip should be really a fishing trip; in fact, it 
would not be possible, even for a man who had 
never seen a trout or a fishing rod to refrain 
from fishing in those waters. This will, of 
course, be the chief charm of a canoe trip to 
the majority of outers. 
What to wear? Well, one old guide said: 
“Anything you like, but it must include woolen 
underclothes and a smile.” The underclothing 
may be light or medium and there should be a 
change. Heavy hip waders are not to be recom¬ 
mended. Rather get your feet wet; it will not 
hurt you, so long as you wear pure wool. So- 
called hunting boots, waterproof and not too 
heavy of sole, are not bad in the early and cool 
spring; they ought to be provided with Hun¬ 
garian (not hob) nails. A pair of moccasins 
and some kind of camp slippers are good to 
have, or two pairs of moccasins. A neckerchief, 
a broad-bnmnied felt hat or cloth cap with 
generous visor, a pair of dogskin gloves much 
too large and well greased, a leather belt with 
dull buckle and knife sheath make up the wear¬ 
ing apparel, except that a suit of light oilskins 
should be taken, or a long fishing shirt of rubber. 
The latter is all right so long as you sit in the 
canoe, but is awkward to walk in. 
Blankets and sleeping bags form a whole chap¬ 
ter of themselves. The acme of comfort is 
guaranteed by a pneumatic sleeping pocket, one 
of the thin kind, that allows the air to be heated 
by the body, thus keeping one “as warm as 
toast. A couple of light but large rubber 
blankets ought to form part of the kit; they 
will come in handy many times. Each canoe 
should have a big carriage sponge, the very best 
bailer. 
As to paddles, the wisest plan is to select one 
in your own town, as those commonly furnished 
by the guides are apt to be heavy and mis¬ 
shapen. A paddle should be about as long as 
you are tall, and should be of maple or cherry 
if you are muscular. If you are not, get one 
of spruce. Be careful to see that it is thick 
just where the handle grows into the blade, 
which should not be too thin or it will warp. 
Paddles should be kept well varnished or 
shellacked. If the trip is to be over much rough 
water, a strong paddle should be chosen, for 
you are likely to use it many times as a pole, 
and it may have to stand a lot of strain. A 
broken paddle far from a town might mean that 
your guide will have to whittle a new one out 
of a piece of ash or oak, and it will not be a 
i oy to swing it. 
As to canoes you will have to take your 
chances, and for this very reason it is better 
to make arrangements beforehand with some well 
known man who has a good canvas craft. Do 
not accept birchbark canoes when you can get 
canvas. I he latter are better in every way than 
the former, stronger, smoother, lighter after the 
first few weeks, much easier to repair, and carry 
more. 1 hey also have seats* which the barks 
have not. 
In many parts of Maine they have a very bad 
method of taking out the front seat and replac¬ 
ing it with a canoe chair, which places the sports¬ 
man only a few inches above the bottom of the 
canoe, the result being that paddling is a hard¬ 
ship and casting the fly much more difficult. 
The alleged reason for this is to ensure safety. 
No doubt the Maine guides have in times past 
had some moist experiences with tenderfeet. I 
can only say that this fear is total y vain. There 
are times of course, say in bad, rapid water, or 
in a rough lake, when it is better for the bow¬ 
man to kneel, or even to sit flat on the bottom, 
but the presence of the seat does not prevent 
that. When I take the bow position in Maine 
in such a canoe I place a piece of board across 
the gunwales, and thus sit up high, which gives 
a great advantage both in paddling and casting. 
The Maine men also prefer seventeen-foot and 
even eighteen-foot canoes for two persons. Ex¬ 
cept on the biggest rivers in early spring, when 
the waters are swollen and very dangerous, a 
sixteen-footer is all that is needed, and is easier 
to tote across the portage. In Nova Scotia any¬ 
thing over sixteen feet is almost unknown, and 
all kinds of swift rivers and rough lakes are 
negotiated there; in fact, canoes are not nearly 
so dangerous as most people think, and acci¬ 
dents of any seriousness are extremely rare. All 
I ever heard of were the direct results of tak¬ 
ing long chances, either going out when there 
was a storm coming up, or that the persons 
could not swim. It is marvelous how much a 
canvas canoe will stand before capsizing, espe¬ 
cially when loaded. Nevertheless it is criminal 
to take silly chances. If there is any doubt 
about a fall, carry round it. If the lake looks 
too rough, either skin around the leeward shores 
S INCE the early part of May the greater por¬ 
tion of this southern part of the Missouri 
River system has not had a good rainfall, 
with the result that many of the smaller streams 
and most of the reservoir ponds on the farms 
have become dry, with great destruction of the 
fish in the same, and to cap the heated term, 
since July 1 the mercury has daily sought the 
100 degrees mark and above in one of our 
thriving cities, reaching a mark of 117 degrees 
on July 5. 
Business matters called me to my old home 
at Cottonwood Falls on July 3 and kept me there 
until the 5th, with the water so low in the Cot¬ 
tonwood River that the mill dam at the town 
holds the flow of the river during the day, to 
let it out at night when it is driving the turbine 
wheels of the city electric light plant, and the 
rush of water at that time loosens the moss on 
the rocks of the shoals, and it floats down to 
the long deep pools where it accumulates on 
the surface of the water and is termed “scum” 
by the people of that section for lack of a better 
name as I suppose. 
As the black bass in this stream take their 
summer vacation in biting from about June 1 
until about the middle of August, I could not 
or better still wait until the wind drops. If 
wise, as I said before, you will have a day or 
two in the itinerary to spend on just such waits. 
The number of those who cannot swim is as¬ 
tonishing, and it is hard to have much sympathy 
with them, for by allowing themselves the time 
and effort to take a few lessons, as they would 
in .golf and many other things, they could all 
learn. In Germany and Austria lessons in swim¬ 
ming are as much a part of even a girl’s educa¬ 
tion as sewing or the piano. 
The questions of provisions, fishing tackle, etc., 
will best form another story, but a word may be 
said about the cost of canoe trips. Of course 
the railway fares to Northern Ontario will cost 
more than to Maine or Nova Scotia. Outside 
the expenses of getting to the starting point the 
cost of a trip will vary with the country chosen. 
In home waters, say in settled New England, 
or New York or Pennsylvania, the wages of a 
guide will lie saved, but the charm of living 
in the real woods will be absent. In Nova Scotia 
you will pay about $3.75 to $4 a day, and this 
will include a guide for yourself, the canoe, tent, 
cooking kit and provisions for both. In Maine 
and New Brunswick the expense will be nearer 
$6 for the same advantages, and Ontario will 
cost about the latter figure. 
Another point: the best arrangement for a 
satisfactory cruise is for each sportsman to have 
his guide and canoe to himself. This gives 
plenty of room for duffle and provisions, and 
leaves each man independent to do what he 
likes and go where he likes without consulting 
the others. A woman of course may sit in the 
canoe as a third party, but the one man, one 
guide, one canoe scheme is by far the best. Be¬ 
lieve your old Uncle Ned—he knows! 
go bass fishing, but when the thermometer 
registered 109 degrees at 4 p. m. of the after¬ 
noon of the Fourth, I took a boat and worked 
slowly down the river for two and one-half 
miles, keeping in the shade of the trees on the 
bank, drifting with the current, enjoying the 
slight breeze on the river, the time passing slow¬ 
ly away. As I had not been down over this 
part of the stream for six years and many 
changes have been made by floods and ice 
gorges, I began watching for the old time land¬ 
marks and the reunion began by the sight of 
the willow tree that the town tailor, old Charlie, 
caught on when his boat upset and he crawled 
ashore. There at the head of that pool still 
stands the big sycamore tree by whose roots in 
1888 I caught my first bass (one of four pounds) 
in the Cottonwood River. There at the head 
of that shoal is that old willow extending out 
over the stream close to the water where I was 
standing on it fishing for bass with live min¬ 
nows when a fifteen-pound channel catfish took 
the hook, and I had to get off the tree into 
three feet of water and wade ashore to keep 
him out of the limbs and drift so that I could 
land him. 
As I rounded the bend, there unchanged was 
A Fourth of July Reunion 
By W. F. RIGHTMIRE 
