I 
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April i, 1911.] FOREST AND STREAM. •'>*>1 
and made our way to the railway track. Half 
a mile or so up the track a signboard proclaimed 
the spot a station, and thitherward we made our 
toilsome way. Sitting down on the gravel we 
prayed that it might not rain, and that the way- 
freight might come soon. Now, a way-freight 
is about as uncertain of arrival as is a Second 
Adventist’s Judgment Day, and like the Judg¬ 
ment Day, is sure not to be ahead of time. For 
three hours we waited before a whistle down 
the line denoted the approach of the train. When 
at last the locomotive came careening around a 
bend into view, swaying from side to side like 
a drunken man—for the road beds of those 
northern railroads are not smooth—I swung my 
hat in the air, to which the engineer responded 
with a single blast of his whistle. When the 
toiling engine rumbled past us, three grimy 
•questioning faces grinned at us from the cab. 
The engineer knew his business, for he brought 
the caboose, trailing along at the end of a long 
line of freight cars, to a stop exactly opposite 
our dirt platform. That we were objects of 
•curiosity and interest to the crew goes without 
saying, but they forebore to ask questions, for 
which we blessed them in our hearts. When 
the conductor asked me to what point we were 
going I awoke to the ludicrous fact that we had 
not decided on our next stop, so I answered 
vaguely, “Going trout fishing.” 
"So I should imagine,” he answered good 
humoredly, glancing over our outfit, “but where 
■do you want to get off?” 
“Blessed if I know,” I replied, honestly at a 
loss for an answer, for though wife and I had 
discussed the question at length while in our 
first camp we had come to no satisfactory con¬ 
clusion. When the crew discovered our quan- 
'dary they turned to help us, and the amount of 
information we secured relative to the fishing 
along their “run” proved them all believers in 
Jzaak Walton's doctrine. They were unanimous 
in the opinion that we should stop at Townsend 
and fish a stream, the name of which has es¬ 
caped me, which can be reached from that 
place; but we, wishing to go further, settled 
on a creek which the map gave as crossing the 
track about half a mile south of Leona. The 
men were sure that no fish were to be found in 
the latter stream and knew from experience 
that large fish were caught in the former. We 
of course had our way. but that we made a 
great mistake we afterward discovered, the only 
time we regretted a stop during the whole trip. 
When I paid our fare the conductor informed 
me that the train would stop wherever we 
wished to camp and thus save our packing back 
from the station. When I hesitated to accept 
his kind offer he promptly remarked that it 
would be “no trouble at all” and the matter 
was settled. 
As there was plenty of room in the lookout 
of the caboose, I asked permission to ride up 
there; this was readily granted. That train was 
ours! Now, I have ridden on some of the 
famous trains of our country, but I never en¬ 
joyed a ride more than I did that one in the look¬ 
out of the little old red caboose. Girl laughed to 
see the long line of freight cars wriggling and 
squirming along ahead of us like some gigantic 
mythological monster. The track was very 
crooked in places, when the child would shout. 
“See, the head is going to turn around and 
bite its tail!” When we passed the stream 
which the crew had urged us to fish and saw 
its trouty looking water playing at hide .and 
seek with the woods we were sorry that we 
had not followed their advice. 
At about eleven o’clock the ever obliging 
conductor informed us that they stopped for 
dinner at Waubeno and wanted to know if 
they should order dinner for us also. I glanced 
at Wife's very short skirt, Girl's boy’s suit, and 
then at my generally disreputable appearance 
and thought of the sensation we would be like¬ 
ly to cause in a well ordered hotel. 
“Oh, I’ll go if you will,” exclaimed Wife, 
quick to read my wishes; “anyway, I am hungry 
enough to brave almost anything for the sake 
of a civilized dinner.” So we ate dinner at the 
hotel, a dinner that was none the less welcome 
because we had fed on camp fare for four days; 
but the snow white napkins seemed out of 
place when spread on our dirty, brown laps.. At 
three o’clock we reached the little creek near 
Leona, and the freight departed in a cloud of 
black smoke. 
To find a possible camp-site, to say nothing 
of a convenient and pleasant one, was a prob¬ 
lem. A few rods east of the track the Rat 
River, a sluggish and murky stream, meandered 
lazily along; the little creek which bored its 
way under the track was a wee bit more attrac¬ 
tive, indeed I have taken trout from streams 
not more prepossessing i i appearance, but only 
after a long and intimate acquaintance. In the 
immediate vicinity the ground was low and 
marshy, but some distance up the track we 
found a little mound and on the far side, out 
of sight of the track, we leveled off a little spot 
and pitched our tent. Always we were careful 
to keep as much out of sight of the track as 
possible, for questionable characters were con¬ 
stantly passing up and down. Owing to the 
circumscribed area of level ground, we did not 
get the tent set in a proper manner, but as our 
intention was to take the first train next day, 
we let it go. always an unwise procedure. We 
extinguished our fire as soon as the tea kettle 
had boiled and kept as quiet as possible, for we 
did not wish to attract attention. 
We were astir betimes the next morning, for 
I wanted to investigate the possibilities of the 
little creek, pack up and catch the first north 
bound freight; but while we were eating break¬ 
fast it began to rain and rained without inter¬ 
mission till three o’clock in the afternoon, when 
Wife visited the village in quest of supplies. 
While we were eating supper two tatterde¬ 
malions poked their heads above the rim of 
the little hill which concealed our tent, and 
after observing us intently for a while, crept 
away without speaking. Ordinarily the stran¬ 
gers whom we met on our trips have been curi¬ 
ous and questioning, but to have silent observers 
aroused my suspicions, and when I saw them 
enter the thick brush a short distance down the 
track and not appear again, I was more dis¬ 
turbed than I cared to confess even to myself. 
Perhaps those tramps had no ulterior motives, 
but we thought we were justified in seeking the 
protection of a hotel for the night, which we 
did just as darkness gathered, and those other 
hoboes followed us into town. I think we all 
slept more soundly in the hotel than we would 
have done had we remained in the lonesome 
woods down by Rat River. O. W. Smith, 
[to be concluded.] 
Uncle Isaiah's Fish Story. 
Uncle Isaiah was one of the old-time 
Quakers; solemn of countenance, without any 
sense of humor, and had never had the time nor 
perhaps the inclination for fishing. Just the kind 
of man that the waggish one with no sense of 
reverence for old age could not refrain from 
teasing a little when opportunity offered. 
One fine morning in April the village wag, 
“Bony,” met Uncle Isaiah and said: “Uncle 
Isaiah, let’s have a game of marbles.” “I never 
played marbles in my life,” replied Uncle Isaiah. 
“Well,” said Bony, “did you ever go fishing?” 
“I never went but once,” said Uncle Isaiah. 
“Tell us about it,” said Bony. 
“Well, it ain’t much of a story,” said Uncle 
Isaiah. “It was this way: Some of the men 
and boys in our neighborhood were going fish¬ 
ing somewhere way up in Michigan, and they 
got at me to go along. I told them I had never 
caught a fish in my life and wouldn’t know how 
to ketch one, but they said that didn’t make any 
difference, and they kept dingin’ at me for three 
weeks, till I finally told ’em I would go, just to 
get rid of them. Well, the day come when we 
were to start an’ we started. They took along 
a whole wagon load of tents an’ groceries, an’ 
the baggage man grumbled a heap about having 
his car all filled up with sich a lot of stuff. 
The cars started in the morning and we rode 
till nearly noon the next day and then got off 
at a place in the woods where there was a saw 
mill and a few rough board houses, and we went 
to a boarding house and got dinner, and then a 
man with a team came and loaded all our stuff 
in a wagon and we struck out through the woods. 
1 he teamster said we would have to waik, and 
we soon saw why, for the road, or what he 
called a road, I really think didn’t have any one 
place of more than three rods that was not roots, 
stumps, logs or mud holes. 
“We finally got to a lake in the woods and 
the wagon was unloaded and the men set out to 
fix up the camp, and when that was done, they 
said they must get some fish for supper. They 
put the boat in the water and told me to get in, 
but I told them I had never been in a boat 
and didn’t want to get in, but they said there 
was no danger, and then they made me get in 
whether or no. When they got the boat out 
a good ways from the bank, they throwed out 
a big stone tied to the end of a rope and I 
asked what that was for, and they said it was 
to keep the wind from drifting the boat away, 
for they wanted to fish right there. Then they 
fixed up a pole and a line and put a bait on the 
hook and told me to sling it out as far from 
the boat as I could, so I slung it and then asked 
what was to be done next, and they said, just 
wait for a bite. I waited for a good while, but 
bimeby I could feel something pulling at the 
line and they told me that was a bite and for 
me to wait until the fish had time to swallow 
the bait and then jerk. 
“When I jerked, it seemed like the hook must 
be fast to something solid and then the line 
began to cut all sorts of capers and pull hard 
on the pole. They said I had hold of a big one 
and he must be handled carefully or the line 
wou’d be broke. They said to just hold him 
steady and tire him out before I tried to get him 
close to the boat. It seemed like a long time 
before I got him broke to lead. It seemed like 
