Gros Cap is the first of the rocky hills that form the northern boundary of Lake Superior, and which, with the higher chain of mountains further inland, divide the streams that run to the southward from those that empty into Hudson’s Bay. The Hudson’s Bay Company, that wonderful commercial undertaking that had stretched its arms across our continent, and which, after the destruction of the beaver, has lost its influence and been shorn of its power, has stations along the coast of Lake Superior at the mouths of the various rivers of importance. At the Sault on the Michipicotten, the Pic, and the Neepigon, they have planted their trading posts, and although their glory has departed, they are still kept up and do some business. These stations were convenient stopping-places for the voyageurs, and were located at the mouths of rivers, of which the fountain-heads communicated by a portage with a different system of waters. For instance, the Michipicotten is the Indian highway to Hudson’s Bay, and both on it and on the rivers adjoining that empty into the latter, has the great Company its stations. The study of the results that that purely commercial undertaking has achieved, from the Saguenay River throughout the British Provinces to the far West, is an instructive evidence of the power of man unrestricted and untrammelled. In various ways it has left its mark for ages.

Gros Cap is a perpendicular bluff, shooting straight up from the water, and with its rocky clefts just furnishing foothold for the active fisherman; pieces of rock seem to have been broken off and thrown into the water at its base, and among these trout are numerous. No place furnishes a pleasanter camping-ground, although not directly at the fishing ground, and few spots afford better sport. As fortune was not particularly propitious, and our journey was indefinitely extensive, we took advantage of a calm that had settled down upon the lake to push on across Goulais Bay, which lay as calm as a mirror, bathed in the glorious reflection of a cloudless sky.

Farther out, Isle Parisienne seemed floating on the water, while inside of us the bleak sides of the abrupt hills were reflected in long wavy lines. The sun had climbed the eastern sky and poured down a flood of warmth and light in strange contrast with the tempestuous weather of several days. The atmosphere, instead of being dense with impenetrable fog, was exquisitely transparent, and the water, that perfect ornament to every landscape, stretched away as far as the eye could reach.

Such a day is admirably adapted for taking lake-trout, and no sooner had we entered the bay than our lines were arranged for the purpose.

The Namaycush—pronounced more nearly like NamÆgoose, with the accent on the second syllable—the Salmo Amethystus of our ichthyologists, the Truite du Lac of the Canadian, and the Mackinaw Salmon of the American, inhabits Lake Superior throughout its length and breadth, is captured along the shores and in the bays, and when smoked, furnishes the principal food of the Indian. It prefers a rocky uneven bottom, where the water is neither excessively deep nor very shallow, and during the summer months bites readily at any of the ordinary trolling-spoons. An ivory imitation-fish is especially attractive; and an old-fashioned bowl-spoon, elongated with bright tin on one side and red on the other, is in general use.

Whenever the Indian is paddling in his canoe over any of the favorite localities, he trolls with the latter bait, which is sold at the stores in the Sault; and to make it imitate more accurately the herring it is intended to represent, he attaches the line to his paddle. By this means a peculiar darting motion is given to the spoon which is said to be very fatal. Buel’s patent spoons, whether with feathers or without, are successful; and so little particular is this voracious fish, that he will bite at a white rag attached to the bare hook.

Once struck, however, and he surrenders without an effort, appearing even to swim gently forward, which conduct, although natural in a man under similar circumstances, is not expected in a fish. So slight is his resistance that it is difficult at times to tell whether he is on the line or not; and although, of course, on approaching close to the boat he flounces and struggles a little before he can be gaffed, he affords the sportsman no excitement whatever. He may also be taken in deep water with a long line and sinker, with the lake-herring for bait, and is thus during the fall captured of enormous size.

He is found occasionally to weigh seventy pounds, and perhaps more; a handsome fish to look at, he is also excellent to eat, and with the peculiar conformation of the trout, he combines its elegance and the rich redness of flesh of the true salmon. He is rarely taken by trolling to exceed ten pounds in weight, and on the north shore more frequently of five or six; but of that size is an invaluable addition to the fisherman’s larder. He may be either boiled or broiled, and makes a capital foundation for a chowder. He must by no means be confounded with the siskawit, which is only taken in the upper part of the lake, rarely exceeds seven pounds, and is so fat as almost to dissolve in the frying-pan—at least we were thus informed by our guides, for we took none ourselves.

The best time to take them is in calm weather, because on such days they rise nearer the surface and are able to see the bait farther. If the wind is strong or the boat moving rapidly, they will not bite; in fact, the boat should not be sailed or rowed faster than three miles an hour, and a common hand-line of fifty or a hundred yards is sufficiently good tackle. They are persecuted by the aborigines, who capture vast numbers for winter use; but we never caught more than a dozen in a day, as we never fished exclusively for them.

Goulais Bay is one of their favorite haunts, and we were soon made aware of their presence. I had the pleasure of striking the first, and felt some anxiety, it being a new species to us, till he was safely gaffed and landed. He weighed four pounds and a half, and we fairly feasted our eyes over his beautiful shape. Don soon had one still larger, and we took six while crossing from the headland of Gros Cap to Goulais Point. They differed a little in size, the largest being six pounds, but not in shape or appearance, and were in their way as exquisite a collection of fish as ever were taken.

We could doubtless have killed many more if we had wished to remain for the purpose; but the Harmony River, our destination, was a long way off, and the sun was running across the sky at a rapid rate.

We stopped to dine at Goulais Point, and took advantage of the opportunity to bathe; the water, close to the shore where it was shallow and had been heated by the sun’s rays, was warm, but occasionally streaks cold enough almost to freeze the blood were encountered. The NamÆgoose, on being prepared for the pot, were found to contain spawn well advanced, and were exceedingly fat.

The dinner being over and the men rested, our slow progress was resumed, and we passed Maple Island—Isle aux Arabes—into Batchawaung Bay. The sun in his downward course marked out a broad golden path upon the still surface of the lake, vividly recalling to our minds that most exquisite picture in “Hiawatha” of the chieftain’s departure for the “land of the Hereafter;” which now had the charm of a peculiar interest, as we were floating upon the very waters where the scene is laid:

Thus dreamily murmured Don, as with his back against our biscuit-barrel, and his feet upon our butter-tub, he gazed upon the dying glories of the orb of day; and now, as the last glimmering spark sank below the horizon, the strange pale light of the north crept over the sky; the stillness of death brooded upon land and water, and ephemerÆ, issuing from their larva state, burst into winged life and followed the course of our boat. Fronting us was the long island called by the same name as the bay beyond it, and towering far above were the mountains of the mainland, cleft in two places where the Harmony and Batchawaung Rivers had broken their way to the lake; to the right extended the bay for many miles, and to the left stretched in its immensity the trackless “Gitche-Gumee, Big-Sea-Water.” Darkness approaches slowly in northern latitudes; our oarsmen were weary, and our pace was moderate, but we had to make a long detour to reach the river beyond, and it was determined to camp on the island. Reaching the upper end, we landed, and our men searched for a favorable spot. One peculiarity of a voyageur is his antipathy to camping at an unusual place; warned by his experience of the inconveniences that attend such a course, the difficulty of making a comfortable bed, properly securing the tent, and arranging the fire, he will endure considerable extra labor to reach a spot with which he is acquainted. Therefore we were not surprised when Frank reÄppeared and announced the impracticability of establishing our camp.

The day had been hard for the men; the weather had been hot and the journey long, and it gave me pleasure to hear Don propose that we should row for a time. He was rather unaccustomed to the exercise, but kept up bravely as we continued our course round the island and across towards the main shore. The pale light still filled the atmosphere to that degree that, at nine o’clock, we could read fine print; the ephemerÆ still followed us with fluttering wings, and whisks extended; the death-like calmness still rested on the unruffled water. At the point of the island were four pretty little islets clustered together, lending additional beauty to the bay embosomed in majestic hills. The way seemed lengthened out amazingly, and our arms were weary, and the night had closed in darkness ere we reached the mouth of the Harmony River, the Auchipoisoebie of the Indians. Here we found an old camping-ground, almost a cleared field in size, and the remnants of several wigwams. Collecting the poles of the latter, we built a rousing fire that illuminated the surrounding forest and cast a lurid glow upon our active men. By its light we landed our stores, pitched our tent, established our quarters, and retired to rest.

We had made a long thirty-five miles, against unfavorable circumstances, felt exhausted but thankful we had arrived at last, and taking a little refreshment, drank good-luck to ourselves and the Harmony. Just as I was about closing my eyes to sublunary things, Don remarked:

“There is a serious question I have to put to you. To-day’s journey has probably been exceptionally slow and tedious, but how long, under ordinary circumstances, do you think it would require to come from New York to the Harmony River?”

Next morning early having broiled a NamÆgoose for breakfast and found it both well cooked and excellent, we ascended the level water that extends for some distance from the mouth of the river. The day was fair and the wind favorable, the birds sang their welcome merrily, and the trees bowed gracefully as we passed. An old duck and her young were startled by our approach, and fled, making such use of their powerful legs as to outstrip us readily. A short distance beyond the smooth water, and almost three miles from the lake, we came to the lower fall or pitch of the stream, which had become quite narrow, and there we made our camp.

It was a lovely spot; the thick trees formed a dense shade over our tent, the trembling cascade furnished continual music; opposite, a rivulet of purest ice-water emptied into the stream; in front the river spread out into a broad, quiet pool; while through intervening trees and bushes we could catch glimpses of the high falls a few hundred yards above us. Previous camps had been located at the same place, and a path had been cut to the rock close by, from which we could fish below the cascade.

Hastily disembarking such things as we had brought with us, impatient to explore the river, and tantalized by half glimpses of the cataract beyond, we crossed the stream in the barge, and guided by Frank, followed a well-worn pathway in the woods. A few hundred steps brought us to the bank, where a glorious prospect greeted us. The stream, rising among the summits of the hills, pitched down over a slanting precipice, seaming its brown face with irregular, delicate lines of silver. Issuing from a mountain gorge, so far above as to be scarcely distinguishable, it leaped over pitch after pitch, collecting in deep pools at every break, and whirling round or dashing over huge boulders in its course, till descending the last shute, the main body tumbled in one heavy wave into a dark, turbid pool at the base. From either shore the evergreen trees projected, leaning over as if to protect the uneasy river, and a heavy trunk, originally torn up and borne along by a spring freshet, had lodged upon a broad, bare, rocky island in the centre. Numerous little rills branched off from the main stream, and forming innumerable fantastic miniature water-falls, sought different paths to the lower level. The rocks were bare and mostly of a dull brown, constituting a strong contrast to the green fringing of the mountain sides, and were worn away by the immense volumes of water and ice that forced their way through in early spring and swept them clear of vegetation.

At the foot of the lower shute there was a seething cauldron, white with foam near the fall, and black from its great depth in the centre; below, the wearied stream rushed down a stretch of rapids, and sought temporary relief in a broad, quiet basin that reached to the first of the cascades, close to our camp, and in which the water seemed absolutely motionless.

Hardly giving ourselves time to note and enjoy the beauties of this most romantic spot, and urged on by the sportsman’s instinct that looks to the attractions of nature, after having tried for game, we commenced casting in the rapids. Our efforts were rewarded, and we landed some fine fish of from one to two pounds, and had grand sport with them in the current and eddies. Putting on for a tail-fly a large, full, brown hackle with scarlet body and silver twist, I at last advanced cautiously towards the black pool below the shute, and keeping well out of sight, cast it across the boiling water; it fell among a mass of whirling foam, but being swept down, passed over a portion of the dark water, and was ravenously seized by a fine trout.

Astounded at the unexpected consequence, the frightened fish darted hither and thither about the pool until, finding his efforts to free himself vain, he rushed towards the rapids below. Here the rod and line were powerless to restrain him, and he made the reel spin as I followed along the rocks. However, with care he was guided through the dangers of the foaming current, strong eddies, and projecting rocks, and was led after a long battle into a spot of comparative quiet, near an old dead tree that projected over the water.

Being myself prevented from approaching by the branches of this tree, I instructed Frank to watch a good chance and use the net; but never shall I forget his look as, after two or three vain attempts—for he was not altogether skilful—the upper fly caught in his shirt, and the trout, which must have weighed at least three pounds, made a furious dash, parted the leader, and escaped. As though it was my fault, instead of his awkwardness, Frank turned towards me with a most reproachful expression, and without a word came to have the hook cut from his shirt, intimating that if I would hook him, I could not expect to land large trout.

The fishing below the falls of the Harmony was absolute perfection; although the fish were not large, that is, not of monstrous size, and rarely exceeded two pounds, they invariably after a short struggle took to the rapids, and compelled us to follow them, at a pace and under difficulties that brought salmon-fishing vividly to our recollection. The steady roar of the falls and the picturesque wildness of the scene added to the intensity of the enjoyment, and served to occupy our minds when not employed upon our sport. Of easy access from our camp, we afterwards ordinarily visited them alone, leaving the men to attend to numerous household duties, and had the advantage of being able to wait upon ourselves.

The hours passed quickly by, and when the calls of appetite could no longer be resisted, we found ourselves with two dozen splendid trout, which were the selection from nearly a hundred. Well satisfied, we hastened back to our camping-ground which Charley had been busily arranging, and while the men were preparing dinner, we tried the cascade near by.

This was certainly a fortunate day, for Pedro soon hooked a splendid black bass and landed him, after a vigorous struggle of half an hour; he weighed three pounds and three-quarters, and was thoroughly game, and established a fact that Professor Agassiz seems to doubt—that black bass inhabit Lake Superior. The guides recognised him at once as an old acquaintance, and called him by the familiar name of achigon.

After a hearty dinner we descended to the mouth of the river for the residue of our camping articles, and while returning I trolled with a small Buel’s spoon. Unfortunately happening to espy a duck upon the water, I laid down my rod to take the gun, when a black bass struck, nearly jerking the rod out of the boat, and with a mad spring carried off my bait and casting line, while the duck, alarmed at the noise, flew away amid the confusion.

Having landed our load, and leaving the men to complete the camp, Don and myself hastened back to the scene of our morning’s sport to renew, and even surpass, our previous enjoyment; for after killing several fine fish in the strong water in splendid style, I struck one of great weight in my favorite pool. He soon took to the rapids, and stopping in an eddy, fouled the line without escaping. In vain all means were tried to clear the line without alarming the fish; it had caught on the further side of a large stone, and could only be reached from a rock that projected its smooth, slippery surface above the current at some distance from the shore. Rendered desperate, and summoning all my courage, I crept out into the rushing stream, and, supported by the handle to the landing-net, succeeded in reaching this dangerous location.

No sooner was the line free than the fish again darted down stream, taking out the line at a tremendous rate. I turned to follow, but what was my dismay to find that, although I had managed to get from the shore to the rock, the current followed such a direction that I could not return. On went the fish; in vain I sounded the bottom with the handle of the landing-net, or felt for a safe footing, or essayed to jump; the water was too threatening and the risk too great. Still the fish kept on, and I had just made up my mind to take the leap for his life or my own, when the line became exhausted and the leader parted. Slowly I wound in the line, sadly picturing the supposable weight of the escaped fish, and depressed in spirit, managed with Don’s assistance to regain terra firma. The only consolation was in the thought that we had secured full as many fish as we could use.

That night was extremely warm, and one of the most trying I ever endured in the northern woods; not only were mosquitoes abundant and ferocious, but that terrible pest, the sand-fly, existing by myriads in the sandy soil, made merciless attacks upon us. The shores of Lake Superior are unpleasantly prolific in all the minute torments that are most dreaded by the sportsman. During the day the black-fly absolutely swarms, in the evening the sand-fly arises from the sand in invisible millions, and at night numberless mosquitoes continue the pursuit; repelled, but not dismayed by ointment and liniment, they wait till it is dried or rubbed off, and dart upon the exposed part; they far exceed in numbers their brethren of New Brunswick, where the rocky soil is less suited to them, and, in spite of all defences during hot weather, inflict much misery.

Don’s first idea was to despise their attacks, and, disbelieving the virtues of pennyroyal and creasote, stoically to endure the discomfort of the woods as a necessary accompaniment to enjoying the pleasure; but by the time tea was over he had changed his mind, and at bedtime carefully enveloped himself in his veil.

The thermometer rose to eighty-six in the tent, and being little lower at midnight, the veils were found to be rather suffocating. The moderate temperature of the northern climate is the great protection of the sportsman; ordinarily in a trip of a month there will not be three oppressive days, but when the weather is warm and insects numerous, a good chance is offered to exhibit courage and jollity. Next morning, when the heat continued, and the sun, rising above the hills, shone through the dense fog like a globe of fire, Don wore a solemn but patient expression of countenance, and fully justified my confidence in his endurance.

The weather during the early season had been warm and dry, and the lake was two feet below its ordinary level, and although its main body retained a cool temperature, the shallows were heated. The rivers, on the contrary, that flow into it from the north, taking their rise from swamps and shallow ponds, not only are tinctured with decaying vegetation and are of a rich amber hue, but had absorbed the heat, so that the fish which in our latitude are in summer accustomed to desert the lakes for the cool spring brooks, had mostly left the rivers for the cooler lake. Only where the water was cooled and aËrated by a fall, or at the mouth of some trickling spring, were they to be found in any numbers.

I have said that opposite the camp there was such a rivulet, and at its mouth, crowded together, each striving to get his nose nearest to it, was a fine school of large fish. The water of this rivulet must have been not far above the freezing point in temperature, and was delicious drinking, while the main stream was nearly tepid.

Being informed by our guides that there was a second fall above the first, and good fishing near it, we proceeded, after taking a few fish and a good drink from our spring-water rill, to ascend the river. We were compelled to make our way through the brushes and undergrowth, over the dead trees, and among the rocks that covered the shore, and were hardly repaid for our labor; the fall proved to be only a small cascade, and though there was a deep fine pool at its base which Frank assured us contained trout of five pounds, we could not persuade any of them to rise. As no fish above the main fall could have access to the lake, I felt convinced there were none of large size, and the weather continuing warm, we returned early to the camp.

That evening was again devoted to the black bass, which took both the fly and spoon greedily, and which, when captured, were deposited alive in a pond-hole in the rock, where their appearance and motions could be studied to advantage. They were not handsome fish, with their broad backs, deep bodies, and thick heads; their extended fins were peculiar and characteristic, and their general form, fierce red eyes, and large mouths were more indicative of ferocity than grace. Those that we opened, although it was in the month of July, were heavy with spawn, and the ova had the appearance of being almost ready for deposit,—suggesting the possibility that these fish differ from those of the eastern country in their spawning season. It is hardly conceivable that they would carry their eggs till April or May of the ensuing year, in which month black bass spawn elsewhere; and if not, their habits must be entirely dissimilar.

The long walk through the sand and mud had made our shoes rather unpresentable, restoring along the edges the original russet of the leather; and as he was about retiring, Don suggested to me the propriety in our next trip of bringing with us blacking and brushes.