THOSE QUEBEC LAKERS 
THE SCENERY WAS LIKE A SNOWY 
CHRISTMAS CARD, BUT THEY BIT! 
By Pious Jeems, Jr. 
T HE lake trout is not as a rule ranked 
with our best game fish. Namaycush 
is regarded highly, nevertheless, and 
many anglers are proud to add him to the 
list of proper trophies. The trouble in 
classifying the lake trout arises from the 
fact that few ever have the opportunity of 
taking him under the right conditions. 
The usual method is to go after him 
when he has to be angled for in deep wa¬ 
ter—a hundred feet or more. This means 
trolling with a heavily weighted line, and 
a final process, if success attends the effort, 
of dragging him to the surface as we 
would the anchor of a boat. Is there won¬ 
der that the exhausted fish, when he reach¬ 
es the top, has no resistance, and that the 
may be taken until October 15, and for a 
week before the closing date no better 
sport than lake trout fishing with light 
tackle can be wished. It is claimed that 
these trout will take a fly. I never tried 
that method, but I am convinced that it 
is true, for once at the top and feeding, 
the lake trout will strike at almost anything 
offered him. 
The most effective plan is to troll, using 
a plain lure with a single hook. The “sil¬ 
ver soldier” is a deadly weapon—but be 
fair to a game antagonist, and do not com¬ 
mit the crime of hanging a gang of hooks 
to the tail of the lure. One is the sport¬ 
ing limit. If you ask for the single hook 
style, get one with the hook soldered on. 
make the spray fly. A favorite trick is to 
roll over and over, wrapping the leader and 
line about him a dozen times. He also is 
an adept in a “chugging” up and down pro¬ 
cess that will invariably throw the hook 
out if you are not on the alert. 
Every inch you gain is fraught with work 
and anxiety. But when the battle is over 
and your fish, netted or gaffed, has received 
the merciful coup de grace, you have won 
a prize. The lake trout in late fall does not 
resemble the deep water summer’s sluggish 
fish any more than the cart horse is to be 
compared to the race horse. He has taken 
on a new activity, and at times shines with 
an iridescence that makes you look at the 
forked tail to convince yourself that you 
have not taken the true Fontinalis instead. 
I do not wish to exaggerate, but it is only 
the truth to say that a lake trout, lightly 
hooked, will, in the late fall season, put 
up a fight that combines all the tricks of 
the speckled trout, the strength of the black 
bass, the swiftness of the ouananiche, the 
gameness of the salmon, and—but if you 
don’t believe it, try it—that is all I have 
to say in defense. 
I went up into northern Quebec early in 
October this fall to get in on the windup of 
the lake trout season. Usually at the time 
named the weather is glorious, with the 
woods a blaze of color. Such was the case 
this year until a misplaced blizzard came 
wandering along, and the first thing we 
knew, there was a foot of snow on the- 
ground, the pines and spruce took on the 
appearance of Christmas card scenery, and 
the thermometer greeted us in the morn¬ 
ing with a record of nineteen degrees. 
Poor prospect for fishing! But Patrick, 
the faithful club game warden—his front 
name is Irish and his last name French, and - 
he speaks both languages fluently—got out 
the little motor boat and we went zipping 
down the lake before a nor’easter that 
made us double reef our ears and close- 
haul all outlying and loose clothing. 
Not to lengthen the story, we caught 
more lake trout trolling that day than 
usual, and one and all they were fighting 
from start to finish. It seemed queer, to- 
be fishing with a seven ounce rod and a 
light bass line, while the deep snow drifted' 
over the little islands, but it was worth 
while. 
Good old George Taylor, up in Glovers- 
ville, N. Y., had presented me before I left 
New York with a pair of gloves he had 
constructed for cold weather. The out¬ 
sides were of buckskin—the hide of a deer 
that had fallen to George’s rifle the season 
before in the Adirondacks—and inside was 
a pair of wool mittens, knitted with indi¬ 
vidual fingers. These were just the things 
for that kind of fishing, but after I had 
pulled them off a few times, with my teeth, 
and fought those trout barehanded, I was 
willing to quit. Then we went home and 
loafed around the club fire. Patrick, at 
least, kept warm, for he had to carry in. 
the wood. 
Amid Such Christmas Card Looking Scenery 
verdict has gone forth that he is minus the 
wild fighting strength and strategy that 
have made Fontinalis famous? 
The lake trout spawns in the fall, shortly 
before icy winter locks our northern lakes 
in a still sleep for the winter. Then he 
comes to the surface, first because the wa¬ 
ter is cold there and secondly, or perhaps 
mainly, because the spawning places are 
found around rocks or on gravelly bot¬ 
toms. 
At such seasons the lake trout leaves his 
indolent habits behind. He becomes a 
fighting, roystering blade—a harum-scarum 
bounder, and the angler who encounters 
him then will never assent to the proposi¬ 
tion that Namaycush lacks “pep.” If any¬ 
thing, he possesses too much of it. It is his 
habit to frolic about on or near the top of 
the water, singly and in schools, and a 
goodly sight it is, too, to see the broad tail 
of this trout waving for a moment on the 
surface, or to witness the fierce rush to 
the top and the quick flash as he retreats 
to the depths. 
The law (in Canada) says that lake trout 
» the Lake Trout Were Biting Ferociously. 
It may pull out straight when a too-heavy 
fish strikes, but not if you are on your 
guard. A “soldier” about three inches long 
is best. You can use any of a dozen other 
spoons or lures, if desired. An Archer 
spinner is excellent. So is a live minnow, 
if obtainable. 
In the fall the lake trout is to be found 
around rocky islands, or shoal water where 
the bottom is rocky or gravelly. A mod¬ 
erate trolling speed is best, with a line run¬ 
ning behind about seventy feet. In my 
own case I like to use a little outboard 
motor, held down to slowest speed. When 
a fish is struck, stop the motor, for you 
will have enough excitement without at¬ 
tempting to play angler and engineer at the 
same time. 
The strike comes with the force of a tor¬ 
pedo. The rod is bent almost to breaking 
and the line stiffens like a violin string. 
Then look out, for you are fastened to a 
fish that combines the strength of a bass 
and the agility of the brook trout. While 
he may not leap like the bass, he will fight 
on the top of the water and his tail will 
