152 
FOREST AND STREAM 
is an excellent indication of returning san¬ 
ity from the craze for speed. There is 
certainly no recreation so enjoyable or 
health-giving or stimulating as a canoe and 
camping trip. And to the numerous rivers 
in Aroostook County in the summer thou¬ 
sands of people return perennially, to ac¬ 
quire renewed health and strength from 
their vacations. 
The headwaters of the Aroostook River 
are triune. They consist of three streams, 
each of which has its origin in many ponds, 
lakes or brooks. The most northerly is 
Mooseluk, the name of which is divided 
into three parts, a mountain, a lake and a 
stream. The lake consists of the waters 
of many brooks and also Bartlett and Leon¬ 
ard ponds. The mountain lies about four 
miles to the south of the lake, and I' ven¬ 
ture to say that no lazy man has ever 
reached it. 
Out of the lake flows the stream, wind¬ 
ing down through an almost virgin forest 
to join the Munsungan, at its confluence 
with which is the head of the Aroostook 
River. About half way up the Munsungan 
stream the Millnockett stream comes in, 
bringing the waters of Millnockett and 
Millmagasett Lakes and many other 
brooks and ponds. All these waters are 
good for brook trout and some have land¬ 
locked salmon and togue as well. I have 
never seen a territory better suited for 
deer, and there probably is no place where 
more moose have fallen to the sportsman’s 
rifle in past years in proportion to its area 
than in this section of Aroostook and Pis¬ 
cataquis Counties. 
T HERE is a system of log camps at 
twelve different locations at the head¬ 
waters, all controlled by one proprie¬ 
tor. The main, or home camp as it is 
called, is situated on an island in Mill¬ 
nockett Lake, and provided with a large 
dining camp. The tables are spread with 
clean linen and set with silverware and 
china, and the service is always courteous. 
There is fresh milk and farm products on 
the island, besides a large ice-house and a 
spring of excellent water. The log cabins 
used for individual parties are furnished 
comfortably, with cheerful rustic open 
fireplaces. 
On Munsungan Lake there are a group 
of seven cabins and a dining camp, with a 
good cook. There are two other outlying 
camps of a little rougher order reached 
by canoes and well cutout trails. There 
are log cabins on Millmagasett and most 
of the other lakes, and there is a full sup¬ 
ply of provisions at the home camp. 
In camp your full measure of success, 
comfort and pleasure always depends upon 
your guide. Most of the Maine guides are 
natives of the woods, strong, healthy, man¬ 
ly fellows. You will find them honest and 
skillful in their calling, cheerful, and good 
companions. If you treat them kindly and 
deal with them as man to man, they will 
give you friendly, loyal service and as much 
of it as your money is worth. But when a 
young city dandy attempts to patronize one 
in a condescending way, he discovers him 
to be as independent as a prince of the 
realm. These real woodsmen cheerfully 
teach the novice many secrets of wood¬ 
craft and ways of the woods, and if both 
are of a cheerful disposition, they can say 
with Jeremiah that “a merry heart is a 
continual feast.” 
I T is the confident conviction of the writer 
that in such a locality and with such 
companions, no better sport exists than 
that of fly fishing, with its attendant pleas¬ 
ures. And a winter’s reading of angling 
literature had prepared me for lofty an¬ 
gling. So, disdainful of the trolling rod, 
minnow or worm bait, and any of the sure- 
killing, newfangled appliances, with only 
my six-ounce Leonard, a finely tapered silk 
line, and a selected cast of flies on a mist 
colored leader, I set out. 
At the edge of a rock island in Millma¬ 
gasett Lake, I had a strike which made the 
rod bend like a rainbow, the line hum 
like the string of a cremona, and kept the 
reel on the go like an electric fan. The 
trout, on a scarlet ibis fly tied on a Num¬ 
ber 4 hook, held the center of things, dash¬ 
ing about like a runaway. He impressed 
me fully with the responsibility of the situa¬ 
tion, and after zigzagging and circling in¬ 
terminably he made off in a mad passion 
for more than a hundred feet, my faithful 
guide calling out to me: “Be careful, that 
fish is dragging the canoe. Give him line, 
now reel him in!” 
After some fifteen minutes of this he 
IrnalV said to me: 
“Now take it coolly, sir; he’s getting; 
pretty nearly exhausted.” There was one- 
thing my guide did especially well—he kept 
the landing net always ready. And when 
I finally brought my trout up to the canoe, 
he slipped the net under him and laid him. 
on its bottom, a glistening beauty of 4Y4, 
pounds. The doubt of success gave way to 
the joy of victory. 
The sun by now had got about the length 
of the canoe from the tops of the trees, 
and we decided to spend the night at the 
cabin on the lake. The guide cut down a. 
dead pine tree, that gave us a generous 
supply of firewood, and enough balsam 
saplings for a fragrant, comfortable bed. 
By the light of the fire we cooked for 
supper two of our pound trout, and a few 
slices of juicy, savory bacon. Meals thus- 
prepared have often convinced me that 
bacon is one of the few things that have 
by the devices and arts of man been brought 
to a perfection almost surpassing nature’s, 
and it is one of the things that has' done 
much to solve the problem of cooking in 
the woods. 
I ASKED a great surgeon that I met on 
this occasion in the Maine woods, how 
so many medical men came there in> 
summer, and he replied: “Well, we learn: 
(Concluded on page 182.) 
THE TUMP LINE IN THE WAR 
By RALPH MILLER. 
“Canadians save day with tump line * * 
* Win battle by portaging munitions 
when army mules are stalled in mud .”— 
News item. 
E hear much talk in these days of 
the necessity for preparedness. Even 
pronounced pacifists admit the wis¬ 
dom of utilizing such latent resources as 
Tht Tump Line Gets the Goods Over. 
our country possesses and of developing its 
efficiency to the highest power. 
The military value of marskmanship is 
obvious. But it seems to a good many of 
us that the advocates of outdoor recreation, 
as a whole, do not realize its social worth. 
In general, we write and read of the good 
times of this person and that person; we 
think of the benefit to the individual. But 
the growing army of outdoor men cannot 
individually get the good things from their 
vacation environment without a reaction 
for good upon the community as a whole. 
M OST of us pray war may not come 
to America. But if it does come, the 
men who have learned to match: 
forces with nature will be infinitely better 
prepared for its grim demands than the- 
average citizen. Perhaps you recall Henry 
Van Dyke’s bit of a creed: 
“The people who live in houses, and sleep- 
on beds, and walk on pavements, and buy 
their food from butchers and bakers and’ 
grocers [have] the circumstances of their 
existence too mathematical and secure- 
They live at second or third hand. They 
are boarders in the world. Everything is- 
done for them by somebody else.” 
War is primarily an upheaval of the or¬ 
derliness of life. “Thou shalt not kill” be¬ 
comes “Thou shalt kill”; fields that have 
known only the fruiting of myriad plants 
become the death places of countless men; 
“mine” becomes “thine” and “thine” comes 
to be “mine.” The somber safety of the 
town becomes the uncertain danger of the 
camp; and the average man—accustomed 
only to his four brick walls and to no ex¬ 
citement greater than dodging automobiles 
—is lost. But the man who has known the 
Far Places will find himself quickly. He 
has learned to do without the modern con¬ 
veniences, to dispense with the mathemat¬ 
ical and secure circumstances of existence; 
he has learned, in a word, to stand on his 
own feet. And that, notwithstanding all 
the complexity and rigidity of modern mil¬ 
itary organization, is what an army must 
have. 
i 
