Rod and gun . ndI welcomed my ballast. The surprisingthing about paddling against a head windis that finally you are there in spite ofyour firm conviction that von are justbarely moving. I turned into the chan-nel out of the wind with relief; then Ifound that the channel went only partway through. I scowled and consultedthe chart; it should have been there. Iturned out into the wind again and aftera deal of paddling I again consulted the right. It is always a humiliating exper-ience to have to put brains whichare rated so much per year to be guidedby a dollar and a half tin box. Eventua
Rod and gun . ndI welcomed my ballast. The surprisingthing about paddling against a head windis that finally you are there in spite ofyour firm conviction that von are justbarely moving. I turned into the chan-nel out of the wind with relief; then Ifound that the channel went only partway through. I scowled and consultedthe chart; it should have been there. Iturned out into the wind again and aftera deal of paddling I again consulted the right. It is always a humiliating exper-ience to have to put brains whichare rated so much per year to be guidedby a dollar and a half tin box. Eventual-ly I went ashore and from the highestpoint I could find I saw the towers ofAlinnicoganashene, and as I expectedthev were just where thev have alwaysbeen. I did not find the Dog Channel,however, I went back around Little Beau-soliel and out bv Honey Harbor. Late that afternoon I landed on a littleisland near Manitou Point and made mycamp. As the sun goes down a wonderfulstillness falls on the bav: somewhere a. Across the open water for Beausoliol. motor boat putt-putts its way across thechannel, in idle curiosity you search andsearch for it until finafly you find it, abarely discernable speck on the distanthorizon. You seem very far awayfrom things and people; the splash ofthe fish makes a great commotion, youmove about quietly to fit in with thescheme of things. Dusk falls, a lightwinks out here and there; a snatch ofsong floats across the water, you hear the rattle of oars as boats are drawn up. thenyou snuggle into your blankets and fallasleep. A song sparrow sitting on the ridgepole of my tent sang me awake. Themornhig sun was taking the chill fromthe air, I filled my lungs with the fresh-ness and cleanness of it, and then slip-ped mto the green water for a swimAfter breakfast I took a turn about theisland and as I stood on its highest point
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectf, booksubjecthunting
