FOREST AND STREAM 
76 
the Hudson Bay Co. at Osnaburg House, via 
Graham, should result in obtaining some good 
Indians for this section. Likewise at Hearst, 
one can find a few men who are good canoe- 
men and who would engage as guides for the 
Missinaibi route. The stores at Cochrane, 
Graham and Hearst can supply most items of 
outfit required, save canoes. 
Big Game Territory. 
Owing to the fact that no train service is 
operating this year, big game sportsmen will 
have to locate in territory within reach by canoe 
of Cochrane, Hearst or west of Superior Junc¬ 
tion on the G. T. P. The only Quebec section 
accessible is close to La Tuque, where Tremblay 
& Desbiens have hunting camps built in a terri¬ 
tory they have leased and named “Club Champ¬ 
lain.’’ This is excellent moose grounds and good 
guides are to be had and hunting privileges at a 
reasonable cost. All the stretch west of La 
Tuque to Cochrane is absolutely virgin, unhunt¬ 
ed, moose, bear and, in parts, caribou territory 
but it is not to be recommended for 1914 parties, 
unless they can arrange to get in and out on con¬ 
struction trains. 
All along the grade are found the deserted 
camp cabins of construction parties, that offer 
good housing accommodation for hunting parties, 
many of them right on the hunting grounds. 
Possibly as good a location as any available 
for this autumn would be to go up to Cochrane 
and go in east of here some 35 miles, just into 
the Quebec territory a little past Abitibi. It is 
probable that a party could arrange with A 
Kilpatrick, Supt. of Construction, Cochrane, On¬ 
tario, in advance to take in a party on one of 
the Work trains. The best time for this section 
would be between October 1st up to November 
io'th. Quebec non-resident license $25.00; Ontario 
non-resident license $50.00. 
A Week 
Spider Web Camp 
A Vivid Picture of the Actions of an Ungallant Bass 
Our family had been offered for a week’s out¬ 
ing ihe use of uncle’s hunting and fishing camp 
on Dutchman's Island, Oneida Lake, and as none 
of us had roughed it before we gratefully accept¬ 
ed the offer. Perhaps curiosity was a controlling 
factor in our choice for never before had the 
sacred precincts of his retreat been invaded by 
“petticoats.” The real incentive, however, was 
the enchantment of camping upon an island in a 
secluded and lonely spot, entirely uninhabited, ex¬ 
cept for a multitude of bugs and spiders which 
no doubt suggested the name—Spider Web 
Camp. The island is covered with a virgin 
growth of trees and according to tradition was 
named from an eccentric Dutch hermit who, dis¬ 
appointed in love, chose this inaccessible retreat 
to drag out a miserable existence, relieved only 
by the daily task of taking his mess of bass and 
pike from the gravel bars of the vicinity. His 
subsequent murder for hoarded wealth, the 
sinking of the body in the depths of the lake, 
and the burning of his cabin to hide all traces 
of the crime lent additional charm as well as 
a spice of romance to tho event. Fish pirates 
have found it to their advantage to keep alive 
stories of ghosts, clanking chains, pistol shots, 
unearthly shrieks and yells which haunt the 
island, especially on dark and stormy nights, 
presumably the times best suited for carrying on 
their nefarious business. 
After opening up the cabin, well situated, well 
equipped and provisioned, we began to arrange 
our trappings and to take note of the abundance 
of rods, reels, and fishing tackle. By the middle 
of the afternoon everything was shipshape and, 
with the leisure of our first outing heavy upon 
our hands, we decided upon a family excursion 
in the big rowboat to try for a mess of perch. 
Our party consisted entirely of novitiates in the 
piscatorial art for to my certain knowledge none 
of us had ever so much as caught a pumpkin- 
seed. In the bow sat a spinster of uncertain 
age, an office girl all her life, the next seat bore 
a light-hearted couple, my older brother and his 
“!ad\ friend,” amidships another friend and my¬ 
self, in the small seat back of me sat another 
brother wdth a heterogeneous assortment of 
hooks, lines, spoons, and sinkers, while perched 
upon the gunwale was my kid brother. 
By Setab Lybis Ahtram. 
It was about four o’clock when we began to 
fish and my brother’s friend immediately began 
to get busy. Nearly every time she threw in her 
line the cork would begin to bob and up would 
come a wriggling perch, to be hailed with a laugh 
and a shout by the assembled multitude. I had 
been supplied with a short bamboo rod and a 
worn out reel with neither click or drag and after 
my prospective sister had caught six or eight 
perch, she was the only one who seemed to have 
any luck. I felt a tug on my line and gave it 
a quick jerk just as I saw her do but “ye gods 
and little fishes” there leaped from the water a 
dark green streak fully three feet in length and 
with wide open jaws flying right across the lap 
of the aforesaid spinster and breaking my line 
like tinder before he landed in the water on the 
opposite side of the boat. Scared, well I guess 
I was. I really didn’t do a thing but just start 
him and it all happened so quick that he was 
back in the water and everyone crying, Oh! be¬ 
fore I had time to think. My friend said it was 
a big pickerel. I don’t know, perhaps it was. I 
do know that if ever a frightened little “tot” 
got scolded it was me. Everyone began at once 
so that I imagined I had-done some awful thing, 
and when I could hardly hold back the tears, 
Spider Webb Camp. 
they tried to make believe that it was only 
friendly advice. It didn’t sound so but after a 
while we got quieted down again except that the 
funny little lump kept coming up in my throai 
After I had another hook and another piece ot 
lead tied on my line and my prospective sister 
began pulling in more perch I began to feel bet¬ 
ter. Really it was awful the way she kept get¬ 
ting bites and pulling in perch when nobody else 
could. This went on for a long time although 
everybody was still talking about my big one that 
got away when all of a sudden I felt a tremen¬ 
dous tug and then my arm and, whole body be¬ 
gan to tingle. I suppose I wasn’t quite over my 
nervousness, from being scolded. My line had 
been wound up rather loosely on the reel and it 
now began unwinding pretty fast with a funny 
little “squeak” and then everybody began again— 
“You’ve got him,” “keep him under water,” “don’t 
let him jump,” “reel him in,” “keep your pole 
down,” “don’t give him any slack,” “play him,” 
and sundry other injunctions, which I have for¬ 
gotten, when all of a sudden the line stopped go¬ 
ing out and about ten feet away the biggest black 
bass I ever saw in my life leaped about two feet, 
Everyone yelled, “there—he’s gone” but he 
wasn’t for I could feel him tugging away, first 
kind of hard, then a little loose, but when I’d 
try to pull him out, the reel would just unwind 
and he wouldn’t come worth a cookie. I tried 
to wind up but it worked so slow that he began 
cutting capers all around the boat. First he’d 
be on one side, then on the other, once he got 
all tangled up in the anchor rope and I couldn’t 
feel him pull at all and thought sure he was 
gone. Then he must have turned around the 
other way and straightened it all out again. Every 
minute everybody was getting more and more ex¬ 
cited and yelling different orders, when suddenly, 
as if by common consent, they shouted—“Get the 
net.” I remembered that we had a landing net 
somewhere but I wasn’t going to stop to look 
for it. My kid brother jumped over the seat and 
began tumbling over bait, poles, tackle, and what 
not, in order to get the net from under the seats 
where we had put it out of the way. Just then 
the monster came up right along side the boat, so 
close I could have touched him, had I known he 
