. Rod and gun . A Strini; ol Waivaitar. Beauties. for the free, independent, hardy life ofthe backwoodsman, for those who wishto rough it far awa\ from the exactionsof civilization. The sportsman, however, will not haveto exist on the delights of canoeing andportaging alone, delights sometimes moreoerceptible in the memory than in therealization. Fish and game are plentiful,and the fisherman and hunter who canpenetrate into the proper districts, maybe assured of some good days , like hunting, has so far notbeen regarded from the sportsmansstandpoint. Fish are good eating; theyform
. Rod and gun . A Strini; ol Waivaitar. Beauties. for the free, independent, hardy life ofthe backwoodsman, for those who wishto rough it far awa\ from the exactionsof civilization. The sportsman, however, will not haveto exist on the delights of canoeing andportaging alone, delights sometimes moreoerceptible in the memory than in therealization. Fish and game are plentiful,and the fisherman and hunter who canpenetrate into the proper districts, maybe assured of some good days , like hunting, has so far notbeen regarded from the sportsmansstandpoint. Fish are good eating; theyform a thankful change from salt pork;they cost nothing, and they lighten thepack of the otherwise necessary the bushman fishes ; and as notourist has taught him the science of flycasting he fishes with net, troll, and hookwith a little pork for bait. During the two summers I have spentin Metagami it has been my good fortuneto discover some good fishing groirnds, 8o2 ROD AND GUX I.\ CANADA. Mixing Bread at a Fire Rangers Shack. especiall} for trout. \\e had already l:)e-come tired of pike and pickerel—whichmay be found everywhere—when alongin July of 1908, we started in towards]\Iuskasenda Lake. First day out fromMattagami we crossed the six mile por-tage, and camped on the fourth lakenorth. There we had a vivid, but bitterexperience with sandflies. The midgets,Ijurrowing through blankets and cloth-ing, stood on their heads in our flesh,with their tails waving gleefully, makingthe night one long torture. In the morn-ing our canopy was a black mass of sand-flies. They were there by the millions,and we surrendered at daybreak. By noon we had reached Trout Lake,the tenth of the series,—a beautiful clearwater, four bayed lake, with steep, heavi-ly wooded shores. There with our cop-per line and troll we fished all even-ing. The trout received us with openarms—or rather mouths—for we offeredthem their only divertisement of the sea-son. They came quickly, and a st
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectf, booksubjecthunting
