May 2.3, 1908.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
This good luck was repeated at the dam by 
others, until one day, in a spasm of misplaced 
confidence, we accepted the suggestion of the 
boss of the lumber camp who said the big trout 
in the dam were shy in the shallower waters, 
but if a few more planks were put in the gate 
the water in the dam would rise, the big trout 
would come out of their hiding places, and we 
would catch some whoppers. We accepted his 
suggestion, the planks were put in, the water 
was raised and backed up at the head of the dam 
into the brush and woods. The trout left their 
old places for the new and inaccessible grounds 
and our dam fishing was over. 
Morris and Woods had poor luck, returning 
with a few measly bass that seemed lank and 
hungry, not fat enough to make the pan smell. 
As the plate of trout was placed on the table, 
however, there was brightness in the eyes and a 
keen relish in the stomachs of ten hungry anglers. 
A day or two later a party of four, Furr, 
Quinn, Fred Powers and myself, concluded to 
test the fishing capabilities of Thunder Lake. 
The morning was crisp and fresh, and with 
lungs expanding under the influence of the oxygen 
exhaled from the pines, hemlocks and balsams, 
we followed the winding trail that led to the 
main sand road and were soon at the logging 
camp. The forest beyond this point was more 
open, the trees smaller and the ground fern-clad. 
Lying beside the road in full view we found the 
head of a freshly' killed deer, a wanton defiance 
thrown out as a red flag to the effective qualities 
of the Michigan game warden and the protective 
game laws. Our guide said the exposed evi¬ 
dence of slaughter was over the county line and 
beyond his bailiwick. 
Arriving at Thunder Lake, a party of lumber¬ 
men was found at the landing, engaged with a 
yoke of oxen in dragging from the shore into 
the lake the long flat timbers that constitute a 
log boom. The launching of these timbers from 
the mass of jagged stumps, roots, prostrate logs 
and limbs with interspersed sandpits and bog- 
holes was a revelation to those familiar only 
with the work of teams in a country devoid of 
such obstructions. An old flat-bottomed schooner 
with rough board paddles, lying in the edge of 
the water chained to a stump, was the only craft 
visible and our only hope for catching fish. It 
was broad enough and big enough to have car¬ 
ried twenty men. Its gliding qualities in the 
water and its inability to make headway were 
about equal. Quinn said it was a ‘"sooner,” 
which, on trial, we interpreted to mean sooner 
stay than go. We hived a few more speckled 
frogs from the swamp roots among the stumps 
as helpers to our minnow .supply, and getting 
aboard the schooner, pushed off; that is, we 
attempted to push off, but found the bottom an¬ 
chored hard on a stubborn root. All hands 
going ashore again we procured a pole, and by 
its leverage lifted the beautiful barge into deep 
water. Once afloat there was a steady, pon¬ 
derous, resistful sort of movement in the fish¬ 
ing craft, baleful to tHose at the paddles, that 
indicated it was a home boat. Quinn said he 
would like to make a tour of the lake—the morn¬ 
ing air was so fragrant and the scenery so in¬ 
spiring—but he was frowned down. 
Off from the landing was a small bay covered 
with patches of water lilies, while the bottom 
was thick with a sedge weed called pickerel 
grass. As the old schooner was moved near the 
edge of these plentiful proofs of plant life and 
into deeper water, Furr had a tug at his line, 
and as the space for play was limited, soon 
struck and landed a squirming pickerel of about 
four pounds. A moment later, Powers had an¬ 
other of less weight. This was a disappoint¬ 
ment, for we were after bass. When a few 
moments later, Quinn hooked a yellow perch of 
about a pound, our cup of woe was full. Quinn 
again in a low soothing tone renewed his re¬ 
quest to circumnavigate the lake, adding that 
the biggest bass were always caught by fast 
trolling. No reply was needed to Quinn’s plain¬ 
tive humor, for just then a black bass leaped 
from the water, scattering the glittering spray, 
and as he plunged beneath the surface, Furr’s 
rod, in graceful bend, was seen to be respond¬ 
ing to the active movements of the bronzed 
warrior in its efforts to shake the barb from its 
jaws. It was a quick fight and the landing net 
drew aboard a small-mouth bass of three pounds. 
The capture set every one alert, and when Quinn 
caught another of two pounds his proposal to 
tour the lake became a dead issue. But the fun 
did not last. The slimy pickerel or snakes, as 
they were commonly termed, were annoyingly 
abundant and the bass provokingly scarce. Dur¬ 
ing the day not over six or eight bass were 
landed, which with a dozen pickerel constituted 
the string. In the early afternoon the schooner 
was gladly abandoned, and despite Quinn’s 
jocose suggestions to celebrate the day by a 
pleasure jaunt in Cleopatra’s barge, the return 
was made to camp. 
The tendency of anglers to get lost in the 
woods is proverbial. They usually know little 
of the trend of directions in the trackless forest, 
of the points of the compass, of the suggestions 
of bark or moss on the tree trunks, or even of 
the brown chippings that mark the blazed path. 
Once out of reckoning they are dazed, bewild¬ 
ered, helpless. “Adirondack” Murray, of the 
Kingfishers, while going to the spring after a 
bucket of water, got “lost in the middle of the 
road.” At another time he rowed past camp on 
the shore while looking for it and while the 
occupants were watching him, and never saw a 
sign of it. 
Our companion, Morris, disdained to claim an 
intimate brotherhood with the silent woods, yet 
he was an ardent hunter and a fine shot. One 
day we planned a hunt for pheasants or par¬ 
tridges as they arc called in Michigan. Leaving 
camp early we passed the logging camp and 
turned west toward a small round lake that 
rested tranquilly in a depression in the woods. 
We agreed to circle it, I near the water, and 
Morris further up on the ridge. We were to 
meet at the lower end, the one getting there first 
to wait for the other. I had a rifle and Morris 
a shotgun. The country was brushy, but level 
beyond the circular pond ridge. Reaching the 
place of meeting first I waited half an hour, 
when several distant shots came rumbling 
through the woods. Another hour and still 
Morris failed to appear. I went half a mile 
down the sand path toward camp, looking for 
tracks, but saw none. Returning, I went some 
distance in the woods toward the sound of the 
shots, shouting at intervals and finally firing my 
rifle at a knot hole in a clump of pines. Aban¬ 
doning the search I went to the logging camp 
and found that a man answering Morris’ de¬ 
scription had passed there, going to the fishing 
F09 
camp. A few moments later I encountered him 
in the road with several others, returning in 
quest of me. Replying to my inquiry he said, 
"‘Oh! I was lost, awfully lost; couldn’t tell 
night from day or the sun from the aurora 
borealis. Got after a flock of partridges, got 
confused, traveled round, found a path, fol¬ 
lowed it five miles. Satisfied I was wrong, 
turned back, landed at the logging camp. Glad 
I am alive; glad I didn’t die lonesome and fur¬ 
nish raw steak and giblets for the bears and 
porcupines.” 
His tone was plaintive, and we were too sym¬ 
pathetic to be mirthful. Lie was fortunaTe in 
the fact that all paths in this section led to the 
logging camp, else he might have traveled forty 
miles through the forest without seeing a human 
being or habitation. 
While gathered one night around the camp¬ 
fire discussing our poor luck, swapping fish 
stories and watching the sparks climb toward 
the dark canopy of pine tops above, the game 
warden said he would take a party to some new 
lakes several miles westward where fish were 
plentiful as autumn leaves. “Oh, my!” ex¬ 
claimed Quinn, “leave me at home with the 
cook. I’d have no more chance of catching a 
fish in such a multitude than a bob-tail bull . 
would have in fly time.” 
Next day, leaving Quinn with the cook as 
requested, four of the party joined the guide 
in quest of the new lakes. Plunging into the 
bushes, and shortly entering an open glade, we 
surprised and startled a deer which ran off with 
graceful bounds, topping the brushes and pros¬ 
trate logs in its speedy flight to safety. 
Our guide kept his course so well amid the 
tangled undergrowth that we soon divined the 
truth in the blazed trail that he was following. 
A light path crossing the trail was entered and 
led down a long incline to a beautiful lake whose 
clear water mirrored the foliage of the forest 
with faithful accuracy. It was small, but its 
seclusion and the tall grasses and brown trunks 
of partially submerged logs along the shore in¬ 
dicated the home of the bass, and so it was. 
But their home attachment was strong, for as 
Furr and I, who were left the use of the small 
boat that had been hauled to the lake the day 
before, successively circled its crystal depths, 
trolling or still-fishing, scarce a bass would 
touch the bait. We could see them in the clear 
water, lazily swimming in and out among the 
logs, or circling the boat and apparently won¬ 
dering what strange craft had invaded their 
rural dominions. Occasionally one braver or 
more curious than the rest would try the frog 
or minnow, and then there was a battle, for they 
were the genuine clipper built small-mouth black 
bass. We had scarce a half dozen on our string, 
none weighing over two pounds, as the result 
of the day’s catch, when the remainder of the 
party returned from a second lake with a goodly 
string of big-mouths and a few pike. They 
complained of hard luck in having to fish from 
an old water-soaked schooner that came near 
drowning the whole lot. When we saw the big- 
mouths and pike we were content with our 
limited capture, for there is little fight in a big- 
mouth compared to a battle royal with a trim, 
active, gamy, elastic and elusive small-mouth 
black bass. 
Returning to camp with our mixed catch we 
found Quinn and the cook busily engaged in 
