Nov. 4, 1911.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
677 
While at our last camp we went over to a 
lake noted for pickerel, and our guide found a 
beaver house upon the bank. He jumped upon 
it and four beavers swam out of it and across 
the lake. He supposed that they would event¬ 
ually return, but some days later found that 
they had not done so. They were probably 
frightened so that they abandoned the house. 
While visiting another lake for a sight at deer 
we found a new trapper’s house closed with 
boards at the windows, and as we were carefully 
approaching the lake, one of our party who was 
doing the hunting told the others, who could not 
see the lake through the bushes, to stand back. 
He blazed away once and then again, finally say¬ 
ing: “Are they alive?” We stepped out where 
we could see, and we could not speak for a while 
on account of laughing. He had shot at two 
decoy ducks left by the trapper, who had tem¬ 
porarily deserted his cabin for work in town. 
On being chided for shooting at decoy ducks, he 
said we would have done so, as no one would 
expect to see decoy ducks in that wilderness. 
We said that we might have shot once, but wou'd 
not have shot twice. 
The fishing in the lower river was not so good 
as above, our total catch of good trout being 
808, the largest two and one-half pounds. The 
best catch of one person was fifty in three hours, 
none less than three-quarters of a pound. Rains 
and high water made poor fishing on many days, 
but all in all the trip was one of the most en¬ 
joyable of our twenty-eight years at the same 
place. 
The catch of fifty fish—the limit for one day— 
was made under interesting circumstances. The 
lake where they were caught is a cold spring lake 
of about ten acres, often visited by local fisher¬ 
men from the station seventeen miles away. 
There are many trout in the lake, mostly about 
three-quarters of a pound each, and they are 
what we call educated trout; that is, they seldom 
take the fly or bait. The lake is shallow and 
quite clear. Fishing with a fly has to be done 
at from forty to sixty feet, and with bait at 
about the same distance. When the water is 
quiet no fish can be caught. The fly is liable 
to be cast beyond them and the line frightens 
them. The noise of the bait-caster, who has to 
have a sinker, soon puts them out of any de¬ 
sire to satisfy their appetites. 
One of my sons, observing that a large trout 
allowed us to dangle a fine angle worm in front 
of him, and actually on his nose and would not 
take the worm nor move, asked why this was so. 
I explained to him by stating that if we placed 
a table out in the road with his breakfast upon 
it, and he there prepared to eat, and a large 
black bear showed up coming down the road 
walking on his hind feet like a man and smack¬ 
ing his chops as though he was hungry and 
wished something to eat, would the son go on 
eating his breakfast? Just so the trout watch 
us, and on the slightest evidence of danger rush 
away to a secure place in the river. 
On arriving at this lake about noon, having 
come up river about six miles from our camp, 
we noticed that the trout were rising freely. The 
day was cloudy, rain threatened and there was 
a good breeze, making such a riffle that the trout 
could not see the boat at a distance. We had 
our lunch and then paddled out quietly to a 
spot from which we could readily cast to where 
they were rising. We noticed that they jumped 
out of the water as though they were progress¬ 
ing so that the whole body of the fish made a 
curve over the water and did not jump up in 
the air, indicating that as the school were mov¬ 
ing, some would rise to take something on the 
surface. We commenced to cast with two flies, 
a Parmachenee belle and a silver doctor. Notic¬ 
ing that they took the doctor and neglected the 
belle, we took off the belle, as I prefer fishing 
with one fly when the casts are long. As the 
school moved around the lake, I would catch sev¬ 
eral each time they passed, and then would cease 
casting until they began to rise again. Casting 
when they are not rising injures the fishing, as 
you are liable to cast beyond the fish and alarm 
them with the line. While we were fishing, an 
otter swam out from the thickly wooded shore, 
A LAKE OF THE WOODS “CHICKEN WAGON.” 
H. W. Osborn says grouse will always be abundant in 
northern Minnesota, because the brush protects them. 
and catching sight of us, made a hasty dive and 
was not seen again. 
The river is quite crooked, and at every bend 
and from 200 to 300 yards apart there are deep 
holes made by the rapid water. Many of them 
are over fourteen feet in depth, while the river 
is about four feet deep. We have no doubt about 
there being large trout in many of these holes, 
or rather pools, but they lie at the foot of the 
pool and catch sight of the boat as it enters 
from above and will not rise after a boat has 
passed over the pool nor while they can see the 
boat. 
At one of these, where I had caught five fine 
trout, we knew that there were larger ones, but 
could not get them so as to be able to land them, 
several having broken away. One day I lunched 
just above the pool and saw several large ones 
rise. Determined to catch one, I put a frog on 
a strong hook without a leader. No result being 
had, I put on a leader with the same frog and 
caught one weighing about three-quarters of a 
pound. This demonstrated the fact that a frog, 
when line could be seen, was no temptation. I 
then backed off the pool and tried my fly, as 
they were continually rising. They would not 
take the doctor, but one rose between the fly 
and the boat, so I determined to change flies and 
find what he would rise for. I tried the doctor, 
belle, red dragon, coachman, brown hackle and 
finally a mongrel fly with no name, and green 
wings, and the trout came up and investigated, 
but would not take it. After that we had good 
luck in other pools with that fly, but in that pool 
we had fished for the large ones until we had 
educated them, a large one having released him¬ 
self after a hard struggle on our first appear¬ 
ance at the pool. 
Porcupines were quite abundant and were often 
seen at the brink of the river eating the wet 
grass. They are rather cat-footed and do not 
like to get into the water. We amused ourselves 
gliding close to them, splashing them with water 
thrown with the paddle, when they would 
scamper along the log and into the woods. They 
soon became so alarmed at our coming that as 
soon as our boat appeared around the corner, 
they would make for the woods, not giving us 
a chance to wet them. 
One day we encountered one that was fresh 
and out about the middle of the stream on a 
dry windfall. My guide concluded to make him 
swim and put the boat between him and the 
shore, supposing he would swim to the other 
shore. As he declined to take to the water, the 
guide tried to push him off the windfall, but 
could not do so. He then made for the shore, 
and as the boat’s bow was up on the windfall, 
he undertook to climb into the boat. As I did 
not care to be filled with his quills I pushed him 
off, or tried to, but he hung on so tightly that 
he took two chips out of the boat, and as I was 
getting desperate, I rose, and with a paddle 
pushed him off into the water and he clumsily 
swam ashore, apparently much disconcerted at 
having to get wet. 
On another occasion one of our party, having 
had enough fishing, thought to have some fun 
with the porkeys, so he told the guide to slide the 
boat quietly past one near enough to reach it 
with a cup of water, which he would pour on 
his head. The first attempt was a success, and 
they had quite a laugh at the bungling exertions 
of the porkey to get out of the water and into 
the woods, but the next attempt reversed the 
laugh, because the distance being a little too far, 
our sportsman, who was sitting in a camp chair 
in the flat bottom boat, lost his balance and tum¬ 
bled into the water over his head. He could not 
help laugh at himself even after he arrived in 
camp shivering with the cold, wet clothes. 
We were once without a can opener, and our 
cook opened the cans with an axe, cutting across 
the can twice, making sharp points that when 
turned up let out the contents. One day a porkey 
came right among us in camp with an empty 
bean can on his nose and over his eyes, the sharp 
points having engaged in his hide when he under¬ 
took to sample the contents of the can, and he 
could not see, nor could he get it off. He must 
have felt much as the trout do after they have 
released themselves after a hard struggle. He 
would like to have that particular kind labeled 
“Poison” so that in the future he could avoid it. 
Of course, we lost several “large ones,” yet the 
story of one of them is interesting and is true. 
