The Big Trout of the Nipigon. 
With my wife I left home on Aug. 9 en route 
for the Trout Farm and the North Branch of 
the Au Sable. She seemed to be much pleased 
with the stream. Her outfit was at least fairly 
satisfactory. The fishing of course was not up 
to the standard of May and June, but we had 
all the trout we cared to eat. 
The trout were collected at the spring holes 
and the mouths of the spring runs. On Thurs¬ 
day my wife and I located a large number of 
trout in a pool and they took the fly eagerly. On 
Saturday afternoon I took Dr. Chase to this 
same pool and we had lively work for a couple 
of hours, and I more than repeated the perform¬ 
ance the next day alone. Next season I want to 
give one of my friends a thorough introduction 
to this pool, as it is undoubtedly in many ways 
the best pool on the stream. 
Without having any fixed plans for the bal¬ 
ance of our trip, we left the Trout Farm on the 
morning of Aug. 16, reaching Cheboygan that 
afternoon. The next morning we took a boat 
up the Cheboygan River to Mullet Lake, hoping 
to find good small-mouth bass fishing. Disap¬ 
pointed in this, however, we promptly started 
for Mackinac Island, and from there we took a 
boat for the Snows, locating at the hotel at 
Coryell postoffice. There were plenty of perch 
and quite a few lazy pike being caught in the 
nearby waters, but neither the accommodations 
nor the fishing satisfied us, so that we returned 
to the island on Aug. 20. 
I was now puzzled as to where we should go 
and what we should do. It then occurred to me 
that the Canadian open season for trout con¬ 
tinued until Sept. 15. We intended going to the 
Soo at any rate, and I happened to think of the 
many times I had read about the wonderful fish¬ 
ing in the Nipigon River, and the question arose 
in my mind if that might not be the right time 
to visit this stream famous for its immense trout. 
The more I thought of it the better the idea 
seemed, and I finally bought our transportation 
clear through to Port Arthur. I did this in spite 
of the fact that I could get no real additional 
information regarding the Nipigon River and the 
particulars regarding the method of fishing it. 
My reading regarding the Nipigon had been scat¬ 
tered, and I did not recall the details plainly. 
At any rate we got aboard the Huronic, a fine, 
large boat at the Soo on Sunday and landed at 
Port Arthur twenty-four hours later. As we 
left the boat and walked up the long pier, we 
were directed to a Canadian Pacific train headed 
for Nipigon Station, and we got aboard it and 
were on the way without even having time to 
buy tickets. 
When we arrived at Nipigon we quickly learn¬ 
ed that the fishing was not near the town, but 
that we would have to get guides, tents, supplies, 
and in fact a full equipment, and go by canoe, 
as the first fishing was probably twelve miles up 
the river at Camp Alexander. Imagine our sur¬ 
prise when we learned the conditions, as we ex¬ 
pected that we would fish near the town and re¬ 
turn to our hotel every evening. Most of our 
equipment had been left at the Trout Farm, al¬ 
though fortunately I had brought my 6*4-ounce 
fly-rod and had a short rod for bait-fishing. 
Through a Mr. Crane, of Winnipeg, I met Mr. 
McKirdy, who runs a large general store at 
Nipigon, and it was through him that I learned 
what would be necessary for the making of the 
regulation trip up the river. It was really a 
great surprise to learn what we would have to 
do, and how we would have to fish, but being 
on the ground for the purpose of fishing in the 
Nipigon, it did not take us long to decide that 
when you are in Rome the best plan is to act 
like Romans. 
After a little talk with Mr. McKirdy I told 
him about our extensive ignorance and lack of 
knowledge about the Nipigon fishing, and that 
while I thought I knew a little about fishing in 
general, I of course did not know anything 
about that stream or what was necessary, and 
I put mysel'f entirely in his hands to outfit and 
equip us to the best of his ability. This was I 
think a wise way to treat the situation, as he 
certainly did his part promptly and well to the 
end that, having reached Nipigon, we were com¬ 
pletely outfitted and in our canoe at the foot of 
Lake Helen bound up stream at 4:30 the same 
afternoon. 
Among other things requiring attention before 
we could leave was the procuring of the special 
Nipigon license, the minimum license, as I had 
learned, being for two weeks and costing $15. 
To procure this I went to the office of Mr. Leich, 
the game overseer. The fact that the people who 
fish the Nipigon come from all over the world 
is evidenced by a glance through the overseer’s 
register. The man who registered just before 
me was from Hong Kong, and the one preceding 
him was from London, while others were from 
almost all States in the Union, as well as from 
many foreign countries. 
Mr. McKirdy was at first in doubt if he could 
get us a good head guide so that we could get 
away that day, but fortunately for us Christ 
Bain, a thoroughly competent guide and a man 
who has been spending a good share of his time 
prospecting, had returned the evening before 
from a long trip which he had undertaken with 
Dr. Thompson, of Chicago, and which they were 
compelled to abandon on account of extreme low 
water in some of the streams flowing into Lake 
Nipigon. Mr. Bain was no doubt the most de¬ 
sirable man we could have had as head guide, 
our second guide being a Chippewa Indian named 
Doquis. 
The first night’s camp was made a short dis¬ 
tance above Lake Helen. The making of camp 
was new work for both of us, and we stood 
about taking in the process with a good deal of 
interest. Next morning bright and early we 
were again on our way up stream, admiring the 
grand and ever-changing river scenery. Our 
guides took advantage of every eddy, crossing 
and recrossing the river to avoid the swift water. 
Otherwise, the ascent of this stream would be 
almost impossible with a loaded canoe. Our first 
stop on Tuesday was at Camp Alexander, where 
the longest portage of the trip, two and one-half 
miles by wagon, occurs. It was at this point that 
we saw the first rapids of the river, and it gave 
us an idea of the kind of water we were to see 
and fish in higher up the stream. 
Camp Alexander is the terminus of a narrow 
gauge tram road which runs to Lake Nipigon 
and is used for conveying supplies and men for 
the construction of the transcontinental road 
which is being built one hundred miles north of 
Nipigon. The construction company has a depot 
here for receiving supplies from the up-river 
boat and the transfer of same to the tram cars. 
Our dinner at this depot was all right except 
that all the flies in Ontario seemed to be hold¬ 
ing a convention. Afterward we walked across 
the long portage to the foot of Lake Jessie and 
made camp. 
We fished there that afternoon, and on Wed¬ 
nesday, having fair success, but getting no trout 
above sixteen inches. Tuesday night Doquis 
went through Mr. Bain’s pack and found an 
emergency bottle which he promptly emptied. 
The discovery of this caused Mr. Bain the next 
morning to give Doquis his walking papers and 
send him back to town, his release being made 
possible through the' ehgaging of Philip Leo, a 
halfbreed Chippewa we obtained from a down- 
bound party, hailing from Connecticut. This 
party, including a Mr. Goff, had got a number 
of large trout, several of which they had mount¬ 
ed. The largest weighed 7% pounds and was 
takfen on the fly. It was one of the largest, if 
not the very largest, trout ever caught in the 
Nipigon River with a fly. It so happened that 
Philip, our new guide, was with the man who 
got this large brook trout just above the Virgin 
Falls at the head of the river. The sight of 
these large trout spurred us on to reach a point 
where we might get some of the giants ourselves. 
Wednesday night it rained and we had our 
first experience with a leaky tent which had no 
fly. Thursday morning we broke camp and 
headed up stream, our destination being Camp 
Cincinnati. At the Narrows the current is very 
rapid and we got on the bank while one guide 
pulled the boat up stream with the painter, the 
other guide keeping it offshore with a pole. On 
the way my wife flushed some young pheasants. 
The scenery from Split Rock Rapids, and in 
fact from that point clear up to Camp Cincinnati 
and Hamilton’s Pool, is grand. The banks rise 
in places to a sheer height of possibly a thousand 
feet. The river, too, impresses one with the 
might and majesty it displays in its varying 
moods. At Camp Cincinnati we found three 
young men from Winnipeg who had arrived at 
Nipigon on the same train with us. Camp was 
there made with the intention of staying several 
days, and in fact this was our last and highest 
camping place on the river. Mr. Crane, one of 
the young men from Winnipeg, came in that 
evening with a 6!>2-pound brook trout which he 
caught at dusk in the pool just below our camp 
with live bait. Another trout brought in the 
same evening by one of the other young men 
