FOREST AND STREAM 
in the name of piscatorialism. Shades of Walton, 
the magnetism of that bobber, and that hole in 
the ice, was stronger than first love. Just let it 
dip, I would repeat, and see what will happen. 
The reflector worked to perfection. That ghost¬ 
ly ray of light hunted out the deepest nook be¬ 
low, and the fish were lured in from great dis¬ 
tances. Toward ten o’clock they began biting 
excellently and I couldn’t work the line fast 
enough; but it got colder and colder and more 
miserable each lap toward howling mid¬ 
night. Finally, I had arrived at that stage where 
I could not bend over for fear that I would 
crack off; the minnows reddened, became blood- 
shot, when they came into the atmosphere. It 
only took a few minutes for the great Crystalic 
Force to weave a network of connecting ice 
particles over our holes, and we were constantly 
busy skimming it away- My bobber had a chunk 
of ice on it that any ice company would have 
magnificently welcomed to its tentacles. I sud¬ 
denly arrived at a conclusion. 
“This is— ’nuf” I voiced aloud, peering up at 
Julius, bent over like Mr. Hyde descended from 
661 
Dr. Jekyll—my mittens abjectly imploring atten¬ 
tion, as I stood there, not knowing whether I 
was awake or asleep. “Better pull up Julius. 
Bed waitin’.” 
“I thought like this,” said Julius, after a dis¬ 
heartening, disconsolate pause- “That if we 
stayed past twelve oclock—we would be begin¬ 
ning another day, you see, and you see what we 
could do, don’t you? Well—that’s simple. We 
could catch another limit if we wanted to. After 
twelve o’clock, you see— twenty-five more are 
due us.” 
WgM 
»D))g 
DWSIMIIK 
Ln..— ■■■ = - -- 
The Manistique Lake Region, Northern Peninsula, Michigan 
A Fishing “ Where to ” Article by an Old Forest and Stream Expert 
By E. S. Whitaker. 
For many years I have passed a three months’ 
vacation in either Emmet or Cheboygan County, 
the northernmost portion of Michigan, on the 
southern side of the Straits of Mackinac, and 
given to Forest and Stream a report of my out¬ 
ings. Douglas Lake was my favorite resort, but 
the forest fires destroyed so much of the beauti¬ 
ful woods about it, and induced the growth of 
so much fireweed and golden-rod that I was af¬ 
fected with more or less hay fever during all of 
last season and concluded that a change would be 
essential for my comfort and peace of mind, and 
after considerable correspondence finally selected 
Charles Fyvie’s resort at Helmer, on the north¬ 
east shore of Manistique Lake, and went there 
by rail to McMillan, and thence to Fyvies by his 
auto, in early August of this year. The road from 
McMillan is quite picturesque, through hard wood 
principally and over hills and valleys, and the six 
and one-half miles were soon passed, and as we 
neared our destination caught glimpses of North 
Manistique, locally known as Round Lake, a 
pretty body of water about two by two and one- 
half mile in size, lying three quarters of a mile 
north from the larger lake, which I afterward 
explored. It has but one summer cottage, owned 
by Mr. Foster, a merchant of Newberry—but sev¬ 
eral good farm houses lie about the lake and 
in its vicinity. This lake is very clear, spring 
fed from the bottom, and in places quite deep— 
and quite a large outlet of cold water issues from 
its eastern end and meanders for a mile and 
one-half through a dense forest easterly and 
southerly and becomes the main inlet of the 
larger lake near Fyvies place. There are a great 
number of ringed perch, some bass, and wall 
eyed pike in this lake. It would be a choice water 
to stock with both rainbow and other trout, as 
the water is pure and contains an abundance of 
feed. The outlet is a stream of swift water, and 
is so densely shaded, and has in it so many fallen 
logs to afford shelter that it would prove an 
ideal home for brook trout- At Fyvies, I found 
a good hotel, with clean rooms, well furnished, 
excellent table, with well-cooked meals, prepared 
by Mrs. F., a comfortable parlor facing the lake 
—and a commodious porch on two sides. The 
house is situated on the highway, about 25 rods 
from the lake, but in full view of the dock and 
bay and three cottages—two owned by Mr. 
F., rented to Dr. Campbell and Mr. Sherman of 
Newberry, and one owned and occupied by Mr. 
Lyons of Miamisburg, Ohio. At the hotel and 
cottages are driven wells, and each has flowing 
water of good quality, which is a desideratum. 
The hotel has a country store attached and un¬ 
til this fall also a post-office, which nOw is dis¬ 
continued for rural delivery, and took the name 
of Helmer from former owner. Mr. Fyvie suc¬ 
ceeded to the property, and became post master 
about eight years ago. He is a genial Scotch¬ 
man, and I passed most evenings in the store. 
On the arrival of my new 11-foot Kalamazoo 
canvas boat, which succeeded the “Wanderer” 
that I had used during the last ten years, Gilbert 
—Mr. F’s oldest son, assisted in setting it up, 
and conveying it to the dock, and I commenced 
my daily exercise with the oars, and rowed from 
S to 12 miles a day in all kinds of weather, 
besides taking walks of three to five miles which 
was somewhat a matter of surprise to my friends 
who could hardly believe that “Uncle Whit” was 
76 years old and still loved an evening at chess, 
checkers, or cards to rest up on before retiring. 
In a few days I became acquainted with Marion 
Hoag, who has been a guide here for some years, 
and made a date with him for a trip around 
the lake, and a try for bass. We had a fine day 
but quite warm and bright; I used my 28 year 
old 11-foot split bamboo Wheeler fly rod with an 
artificial fly attached to a Hildebrandt slim Jim 
spinner, and although I did not catch as many 
fish as “Manny” who used a steel rod and a bit 
of pork attached to a similar spinner, I certainly 
had more sport in handling them. We made the 
rounds of the lake, fishing the most likely locali¬ 
ties; enjoyed a bounteous lunch put up by Mrs. 
F. and returned at 4.30 P. M- well sun baked, but 
having caught eleven small mouth black bass of 
good size; a number of wall eyed pike and ringed 
perch; besides a few not wanted pickerel—good 
work for two rods. We went out together on 
three or four occasions with about the same 
results. This has been a fine lake for fish, and 
they can yet be obtained if you know the better 
places. Many fish have been caught by market 
fishermen and shipped by express to Chicago, 
and it still goes on—the pay being 16 cents per 
pound, and of course the fishing is not as good 
as it has been, especially as I am told the State 
has never stocked any of this chain of lakes, as 
it certainly seems to me it should. The trip 
around the lake is very interesting, as it is about 
five miles in greatest width, and eight to nine 
miles in length, with principally wooded shores 
that are interspersed with a number of good 
farms and at a few favorite spots cottages of 
resorters from Detroit, Toledo, and Newberry, 
who have been coming here many years. There 
are three wooded islands toward the western 
end which add to its beauty. South Manistique 
Lake, locally known as Whitefish Lake, a much 
smaller body of water, empties into it on the 
southern shore near Curtis. This lake with a 
dam at its foot was formerly about two by five 
miles in size and quite picturesque, but the Fish 
Commission ordered the removal of the dam 
this year, and reduced the volume of water very 
much and consequently the shores are not so 
attractive. Curtis is a little town built up by the 
lumber company that has a store and mills 
there. They did open a fine hotel there, but it 
has been closed for two or thi'ee years. The 
town is a quarter of a mile from the large lake 
and a mile from the smaller lake, on which is 
located Gish’s hotel and some three or four miles 
further south is Norton’s resort. There are four 
or five spring brooks of greater or less size which 
flow into the large lake at various points. The 
outlet leaves at the foot of a bay near Needle 
point on the western shore and is called the 
