lefever 
New Lerever NITRO- 
SPECIAL oNnLY $29.00 
O. K.’ed and purchased in 
quantities by the U.S. 
Navy. Well finished, 
considering the 
price. Built to 
shoot right and 
stand as much 
use asthemost 
expensive gun. 
Most durable 
lock ever 
put in a 
gun— 
first lock 
fired 
over 























Every 77,000 
gun proof- times. 
tested withan 





extreme load. 
A standardized 
gun built only 
in 20-ga. 28 in., 
16-ga. 28 in., and 
12-ga. 28 and 30 in. with 
14 in. stock and about2% in. 
drop. A Lefever won the world’s 
championship at the Olympic 
games in London. Lefever has 
stood for service and durability 
for over 50 yrs. Write for Catalogue 
Lefever Arms Co., Ithaca, N.Y. 











WILBUR SHOTGUN PEEP SIGHT, 
deadly addition to the modern shotgun. Makes aabd 
shots of poor ones. Fast enough for snap shooting, 
ducks, or at traps. Automatically shows how to 
lead correctly—No more guess work. Made of blued 
steel, clamps rigidly on breech of gun barrels. 12, 
16, 20 28 gauges. Double guns only. Postpaid, $2.50 
including booklet. ‘‘Wing Shooting Made LEasy.”’ 
Booklet alone sent on receipt of tem cents. Teaches 
the art of wing shooting. 
WILBUR GUN SIGHT 
116 West 39th St., P.O. Box185, Times Square, New York 

A GLEAN 
SUSPENSORY 
EACH MORNING 
The SSS has two Separate Sacks; while 
one is being washed the other can be worn. 


REGISTERED 
The best Suspensory made for comfort and 
convenience; no ‘rritating leg straps. 
SIMPLE SANITARY SCIENTIFIC 
Mailed in plain package on receipt of $1.50. 
Satistaction guaranteed. Send stamp for book- 
let. MEYERS MFG. CO. 
52 Park Place, Watertown, N. Y. 
7 Ut ENDORSED ev tHe SPANISH GOVERNMENT 
Shots 
Side Swing Cylinder Re- 
volver made of Bilbao blue 
steel. Send for this accurate, de- 
pendable and powerful gun, with 
automatic hammer safety. 
O MONEY—Pay post- 
man on arrival $14.75 plus pietapen 
Satisfaction 
guaranteed or money back. Free Catalog. 
NEW YORK iMPORTERS CO. 
Dept. 432-M. 200 Broadway New York City 
In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. 




the water and paddled away towards 
the shore as unconcerned as possible. 
- The country here is green bush and 
untouched by forest fires. The old In- 
dian with us, when I remarked about 
it, said: “Yes, no fire-rangers here—no 
fires.” The banks of the creek for miles 
were lined with lovely little white waxy 
flowers, like small begonias, while here 
and there we came upon stretches of 
pink flowers called the pickerel weed. 
The shores were bright with them for 
about ten feet in width on either side. 
There were hundreds of wild roses in 
full bloom, and a much darker shade 
of pink than we find further south. 
We also saw many gorgeous Ladies’ 
Slippers in beautiful crimson and rich 
purple, which were very large. Also 
delicate pale yellow lilies with leaves 
like a lily-of-the-valley. 
It has become very cold with rain to- 
day, and we will leave for East Shining 
Tree country to-morrow, as soon as the 
tents are sufficiently dry to pack. We 
are living on fish, and the pike up here 
are delicious. I caught a ten pound 
one and we had it boiled. It was ex- 
tremely good—white, firm flesh, with a 
delicious flavor. I cannot understand 
why so many object to the pike and 
refuse to eat them. To my mind they 
rank next to the pickerel, and are far 
superior to rock bass or herring as a 
table fish. 
While at the old Indian camp where 
we found the lost husky dog, I saw a 
big trout. jumping out in the lake where 
the creek runs through at one end. This 
was about five o’clock, and it was rain- 
ing at the time. We went out for it, as 
the Indian said that there were lots of 
brook trout to be had, and we could 
catch them with salt pork for bait. We 
tried the pork, but did not get a nibble, 
while all the time the big fellow kept 
jumping near us. 
While removing my hat to put on 
the cap attached to my slicker, I noticed 
the loop end of a hook sticking out of 
the hat band and upon pulling it out 
found that it was a small white fly, 
which is used for the small trout we 
get in southeastern Ontario. I im- 
mediately bent it in the casting line, 
and tried a ten foot cast, let out some 
more line, and cast about fifteen feet. 
The minute the fly hit the water the 
trout rose to it, and I had him hooked. 
What a fight it was. He broke water 
and tore about, and knowing how small 
the fly hook was, I was terrified that 
he would get loose, for he was a fine 
big fish. He broke water about fifteen 
times, and ran off fifty feet from the 
canoe during some of his rushes. Then 
he would come back like a shot and leap 
clear, jumping at times fully three feet 
into the air. After half an hour he tired 
somewhat, and did some deep diving. 
Finally, however, I got him next the 
canoe, but when the Indian, Fred, 
It will identify you. 
reached out for him he was off again 
like a flash. Five times he was brought 
up to the canoe, each time the dash 
away becoming more feeble, until 
finally, at the sixth time, he was com- 
pletely played out. Fred got him round 
the head under the gills and lifted him 
into the canoe. 
He was a beauty and weighed exactly 
two and a half pounds. I took a time 
exposure of him, and we had him for 
supper. He was the largest trout 
I had ever caught, and put up a 
better fight for his size than I have had 
from any fish. We had not brought a 
landing net, so I had to fight him until 
he was completely played out, and as it 
was the hook had torn a three-quarter 
inch slit in his jaw, and he dropped off 
the hook as soon as landed. 
For days now we have been living 
on fish, and so when an Indian came 
along to-day with a quarter of moose 
meat, I promptly bought it from him, 
and we had a feed of steak for supper. 
Talk about a treat. Toasted bannock, 
and fresh juicy steak with lots of 
gravy—it was a feast for the gods. I 
ate as much as would do our whole 
family for a meal. 
We passed Bridal Veil Falls to-day, 
and without exception it is the most 
beautiful spot I have ever seen. Wapus 
Creek runs through a valley between 
high hills, and the cliffs rise sixty to 
seventy feet above the falls at the head. 
Then there is a sheer drop of about 
eighty feet. The sun only gets into the 
gorge in spots through the trees. The 
fall comes down through an opening 
about twelve feet wide in black rocks 
covered with brilliant green moss, then 
gradually spreads out until it is over 
fifty feet wide at the bottom. It is 
all in lace-like shoots, looking exactly 
like a bride’s veil, coming together at 
the top, and when the sun shines on it 
through the trees the effect is wonder- 
ful. The hills rise on each side, heavily 
wooded, and the gorge is cool and misty 
with spray. The lower part of the 
falls ends in a series of rapids, and the 
gorge is as cool as a refrigerator; but 
the mosquitoes—there were millions of 
them. 
There is an interesting story con- 
nected with these falls. It appears that 
an Indian and his squaw were travel- 
ing there a year ago last spring, it 
being just about the break-up time. 
The squaw was going ahead, breaking 
the trail on snow-shoes, with the pa- 
poose on her back, while the Indian was 
following with their outfit on his back. 
There are two logs across the stream 
just at the head of the falls which are 
used as a bridge to cross over, and the 
snow had drifted over the edge and was 
overhanging the stream. The squaw 
stepped on what she thought was the 
log, and the snow gave way and she 
plunged headlong down on the rocks 
Page 628 
