June s, 1909.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
899 
The Last Day’s Trouting. 
A FRIEND and I had walked about ten miles 
up a lumber trail in the Laurentian Mountains 
from the beautiful hill-girt lake, beside which 
we were camping, for we had heard of a mag¬ 
nificent lake VN'hich lay in the primeval wilder¬ 
ness and was said to be filled with gamy trout.’ 
After spending the night on the board floor 
of the “keep-over” — a place where supplies are 
kept over from one winter to the next — in 
company with a dozen habitant lumber-jacks, 
we started out to And the lake. Our direc¬ 
tions proved not to be explicit enough, how¬ 
ever, and it was midday before we sighted the 
raft that would bear the weight of one man. 
We fashioned an unwieldy paddle from a sap¬ 
ling and a piece of plank that lay handy. I 
drew first turn. The place was uninviting, 
even uncanny. The shore was a bog of sphag¬ 
num moss, the pond water was inky black and 
full of lilypads, algae, etc. We could shove a 
pole down twenty feet in the ooze and slime 
along the floating shore. But I wanted a big 
trout or two, so I pushed off, making a terrific 
splash with my huge paddle. As soon as I 
reached open water I threw my cast in to 
moisten it and straighten out the leader. In¬ 
stantly there was the flash in the air and the 
splash which told of a large fish. Scarcely 
two big flies. In a few moments I landed a 
one-pounder. Then I hooked a larger one 
that fought fiercely. I let him go a little. Then 
I tried to reel in, but nothing would budge. I 
seemed to be anchored to the Laurentian 
Mountains. My worst fears were realized. 
Either he had wound the leader around a snag 
or entangled it among the vegetation. In 
either case I stood to lose both trout and 
leader. But my rod was a strong one. I pulled 
gently at first, gradually increasing the strain 
and watching the rod, until finally something 
gave way. I reeled in slowly and cautiously. 
As the leader came near the surface the secret 
was revealed. A big trout was attached to my 
ON A DAY IN JUNE. 
lake in the distance. Fearing to alarm the 
custodian of the camp, who regarded us as 
tenderfeet, we gave up the idea of spending 
the night there, and with regret turned back 
without even trying the lake, to spend another 
night in the stuffy shack. Next day we had to 
start down for our own camp, and our last ex¬ 
cursion seemed a failure. But just as we were 
setting out homeward on a rainy and depress¬ 
ing morning, the guardian told us that in a lit¬ 
tle swampy pond three miles down the trail we 
should find “beeg truite” (big trout). 
When we reached the pond, we looked about 
for a raft and found three water-soaked logs 
lashed together, but they would not carry a 
three-year-old child. With the aid of our 
hatchets we secured two more logs, and with 
some rope and wire that we carried we made a 
able to restrain my excitement, I pulled the 
leader in and straightened it by drawing it 
under my shoe. Again I cast, this time with 
bated breath. There was a little ruffle on the 
surface, followed by a tremendous tug. I let 
the line pay out, and as I did so I thought I 
saw two big trout on. The strain increased. 
I feared the lilypads and sub-aqueous vegeta¬ 
tion, but gave a little more line, and then 
reeled in a little. My rod was a proved green- 
heart, light, but strong. The rushes seemed 
to decrease in number and power. I reeled 
in, grabbed my landing net and bagged a plump 
Salvelinus fontinalis weighing pounds. He 
was on the middle fly. The leader was gone 
below the second fly and the third fly too was 
gone. I had had three big trout on. 
This time I put on a stronger leader and 
second fly. Now and then he made a dash, 
but seemed rather played out. The nose of a 
second and smaller trout was buried on the 
tail fly in a bunch of algae. The problem was 
to land the combination. The raft was rickety 
and bristled with bits of limbs, etc. I must 
first secure the big fellow, who still had some 
life in him, and then without taking in the net 
land the combination of trout and weed. I 
could not remove the big one without breaking 
the leader on account of the character of my 
raft. After several efforts I netted his majesty. 
Then came the real trouble. The second fish 
was harder to get in, for such was the weight 
of fish and weeds that it partially turned the 
frame of the net in the screw. I dropped my 
rod on the raft, lay down flat, screwed the net 
tightly in place and landed both trout and 
