JUNE, 1917 
FOREST AND STREAM 
251 
cause it is not landlocked but free to visit 
the ocean whenever it wills, without ob¬ 
struction. It prefers to breed and feed in un¬ 
salted water, and of its own free will abides 
there, battling with the flood in surging 
waters to which perhaps none other on the 
globe compare. 
W ITH the experience of three trips 
after this fish to draw from, I can 
with confidence describe the tackle 
most suitable to bag him. The average size 
ouananiche caught at the Decharge is two 
pounds. You will perhaps catch one of 
four pounds and maybe one .of six pounds, 
but the latter is doubtful and very rare. 
You should have a good strong trout rod 
of the best make made to fit your size and 
reach. On my first two trips I caught the 
limit of twenty fish each day on a 
Bristol steel trout rod, and right well did 
it do its duty. Be provided with an ample 
reel that has a large handle, and the line if 
tapered should be the heaviest trout size. 
In addition to the gimcracks made by the 
resisting fish, you have at times to con¬ 
tend with strong, surging currents. 
Up to the present I have had no oppor¬ 
tunity to test nature flies on this fish, but 
I feel sure execution could be done with 
any of the June selection. It is wise to be 
stocked with at least a dozen each of Silver 
Doctor and Jack Scott, on Number 6 hooks. 
I saw most used the flies just mentioned tied 
on a small double hook, though I think a 
single-hook fly would prove quite as effec¬ 
tive and much more sportsmanlike. It is 
best to use only one fly on the leader and 
the foolishness of dry-fly fishing is appar¬ 
ent the moment you see the water. Some 
anglers do use two flies on the leader, to get 
(at times) two at a clip; but the vexatious 
trouble and bother of playing, breaking, los¬ 
ing, and netting two fish is very unsatisfac¬ 
tory. 
A dozen or two leaders, either of tapered 
heavy trout or light salmon gut will be 
necessary if your trip be extended over a 
few days, for remember that you are far 
from supplies, and that it is heartbreak¬ 
ing to find yourself in the midst of grand 
sport, with some part of your tackle so 
inadequate as to prevent you from fishing. 
Be prepared with a long-handled net of fair 
size. The guides may—then again they 
may not—have a net; without one you lose 
ninety per cent of fish. 
You are now standing, ready equipped, 
waiting for the bruea to float within your 
reach; and perhaps you will feel for the 
first time—as I did—the value of being 
able to make a long cast. Accuracy in 
this instance does not count at all; but dis¬ 
tance counts for* everything. You may be 
able to reach the edge, perhaps to get a 
rise; but the centre of the foam is the 
choicest spot—there you never fail to get 
response. 
N OT every cast from the rock induces 
a rise. The fly embeds in the thick 
foam; after a few seconds it gradually 
sinks about a foot in the water and is 
driven toward or away from the feeding 
fish. If it is, forced within vision of the 
fish, the first thing you see is the fish in 
the air, as Kipling says, “like an India- 
rubber idiot on a spree.” There is no 
need for excitement: the fish has hooked 
itself well. Keep a taut line always, rod- 
tip well up, held by the left hand with the 
right hand free to wind in the line at the 
right moment. It will leap again, it will 
surge, then run down, back, up, and away; 
in fact it will kick like the dickens all 
the time you are drawing it nearer the 
guide, who stands solemn and taciturn, 
holding the net. Of the hundreds of fish 
I have taken, I never saw one, however 
tired and worn, on seeing the net, but what 
evinced a renewed burst of intensified vigor. 
Indeed, so frightened are they on seeing 
the net, that now comes the most exciting 
part of the game. But an Indian is per¬ 
fection at netting fish: you can yell at him 
all you like; he is as cool as a cucumber, 
going about his business in his own way 
just as if you had nothing to do with the 
affair at all. But once the fish is landed, 
you recast and repeat again and again the 
same performance, with never-ending 
change of tactics on the part of the fish. 
T HOUGH fishing from a canoe with 
an Indian at each end appears dan¬ 
gerous—the quiet eddies you float 
in are fearfully close to the terrible rush 
of waters—I prefer it. Because you can 
kneel comfortably down on a cushion at the 
bottom of the wide bark canoe and cast 
very easily; and guides seem to manage the 
fish more quickly and easily, netting from 
a canoe—perhaps because they cannot be so 
easily observed by the fish. The greatest 
excitement comes while crossing the cur¬ 
rents, which has to be done often. For 
a few moments you instinctively clutch the 
canoe sides, and stare at the grim-set teeth 
and sweat-covered brow of the two In¬ 
dians toiling their utmost at the paddles. 
One does not imagine at such a time what 
would happen should a paddle break—but 
we emerge in quiet water before the dread¬ 
ful thought has matured. And such feel¬ 
ings of fear wear off very soon, as you 
get used to the sport. 
Along these quiet waters, especially close 
to the steep rocky sides, you can troll with 
artificial lines for pike. On one occasion 
we caught three of them of n, g, and 16 
pounds weight. These fish are too long 
to be netted; they must be played until 
weary, then clubbed with an, iron rod pro¬ 
vided by the guides. If such is not handy, 
you can shoot them. This is by no means 
easy to do, although you can guide the 
fish to the surface right close to the 
canoe where he will lie for awhile quite 
still. But you waste your cartridge put¬ 
ting it through his body, which makes him 
kick all the more. The bullet should be 
sent through the flat space somewhat back 
of the eyesockets, and one shot will be ef¬ 
fective to quiet him. While he is quiet, 
you should sever the gills; because there 
are times when the fish recovers af¬ 
ter being shot, and leaps over the 
canoe’s side and back into the water. 
And now, how to get to the Decharge? 
It is obviously a difficult matter to de¬ 
tail a single trip embracing all the varied 
fishing to be enjoyed in this superb section 
of the Canadian wilderness. If the 
weather be normal, we can start from 
Quebec in the last week of May, heading 
for Lake Edward iii miles away, and Rob¬ 
ert Rowley’s Laurentide House. The latter 
is situated right at the station, and pro¬ 
vides excellent accommodation with con¬ 
veniences for women and children. Ex¬ 
perienced guides are provided and camps 
of different sizes to accommodate from 2 
to io people are situated on islands along 
this shore of the lake. The charge is five 
dollars a day, which includes guides’ 
charges and everything else required ex¬ 
cept the angler’s rod and reel. A differ¬ 
ent charge is made for women and chil¬ 
dren. Lake Edward is famous for its- 
speckled trout, which often run up to six 
pounds weight, and the fly fishing is good; 
all through May and early June. 
Leaving Lake Edward, another eighty 
miles brings you to Roberval, on the shore 
of Lake St. John. Here you may secure 
guides, canoes, outfit and supplies for vari¬ 
ous fishing trips after muscalonge, pike, 
trout and salmon up to Peribonca, Mistas¬ 
sini or Metabetchouan, and other large 
rivers (none less than 300 miles) that flow 
into Lake St. John. Splendid ouananiche 
fishing can be enjoyed in Lake St. John 
during May and June, especially at the 
mouth of the Ouiatchouan, just below the 
famous falls of that river, which is reached 
by an easy drive from Roverval. Before the 
Hotel Roberval was burned, the grand De¬ 
charge was reached by crossing the lake 
in a little steamer that ran forty miles to 
the Island House, which afforded ample 
accommodation, and the guides took you 
down the rapids to the Decharge. This 
was a delightful experience, but is no longer 
a practical route. The best, and I think 
the most satisfactory way now is to go on 
from Roberval by rail to St. Gideon, where 
you may get your outfit, supplies, and 
glides. From St. Gideon, a drive of eight 
miles will land your party at the Petit De¬ 
charge ; from thence by canoe it is two and 
a half miles up to the Grand Decharge. 
The Mighty Salmon, Fighting for Freedom, Is a Worthy Foe 
