Gordon Creek, and slowly crawled up¬ 
ward, seven hundred feet in a distance 
of eight miles, to Kipawa. As we 
dropped off the train four rusty, un¬ 
shaven individuals raised themselves 
quickly from a bundle of peaveys and 
came forward as though expecting us. 
* After careful examination they proved 
to be our four pardners, and we wel¬ 
comed them accordingly despite their 
already perceptible growth of beard 
and general uncouth appearance 
Having left New York before us, 
they had been at Kipawa for three 
days, and so knew everything about 
the town as we did five minutes later 
We could see all of it from where we 
stood the station, the Company store 
the Company “Hotel,” a house, the 
dam, and Lake Kipawa stretching in 
a blue, island cut expanse between 
shores broken by hundreds of points 
and bays. Man, what a summer re¬ 
sort it would be if it were not for the 
“flies!” 
We bought some final supplies, in- 
ventoried our packs, sent home about 
ten pounds from each, leaving a bal¬ 
ance averaging 110 pounds, asked 
about the “country,” found that the 
boom gang might be up near Turtle 
Portage, but beyond that nothing. 
Then we went to the express office 
to get the canoes that were to carry 
us into the “bush.” up river and down 
river, for a thousand miles. We got 
them, and christened them by running 
the log chute. 
A low, squat dam, extending across 
the lake, hold the waters of Kipawa 
and hundreds of smaller lakes lying to 
the north. When the log boom' comes 
in with its raft of thousands of logs, 
they are corralled near the spillway 
and gradually passed through the gate¬ 
way over an initial plunge and then 
they dash off into the foamy race down 
the seven-mile drive of Gordon Creek 
to the mill at Temiskaming 
We found the canoes fast and fickle 
because of their cutting bow, narrow 
beam and rounded, racing bottom. 
Over the first small drop of the spill¬ 
way the canoe shot, water pouring in 
as it struck the foam and tear of the 
boil in the steep confined race to a 
small widening of the channel where 
defeated waters lazily whirled and 
eddied before slipping into the next 
of the series of drops and dashes in its 
white way down to Temiskaming. It 
was our first taste of white water and 
it made us want to be going—north 
to the height of land and north on 
down the Bell River. 
Fifteen foot painted basswood they 
were, gray, brown and green—all good 
woods colors, but when we put them 
on the scales they balanced eighty 
pounds and the company had given 
us specifications of fifty pounds. Never 
Page 579 
Mazola Salutes 
the Bass 
O the Bass says 
Mazola: “Of all fish 
you have the greatest 
attraction for the experienced 
Angler.” 
Answers the Bass: “Mazola, 
you do me the greatest justice 
out of the water! In the fry¬ 
ing pan we are the warmest of 
friends.” 
Be sure to bring along a can 
of Mazola with your Bass 
Tackle. 
In writing to Advertisers 
mention Forest and Stream, it will identify 
you. 
