This beautiful sheet of water, lying amid high sterile hills far from the abodes of man, has remained, and will continue for centuries, unvisited except by the native Indian or the adventurous sportsman. Romantic in its location and appearance, it is remarkable for the number and apparently irreconcilable character of the fish that inhabit its waters. While the voracious northern pickerel and giant mascallonge inhabit the upper part, and the fierce, greedy and powerful salmon have appropriated the outlet, shad or mullet and lake trout, both comparatively inoffensive, dwell in the centre, and doubtless prove an easy prey and grateful food to their natural enemies on either hand. Along the upper margin, weeds grow, and the bottom is in places soft and muddy, while the residue of the shore and bottom is firm white sand. The lake looked, in its broad expanse with the sun dancing on its rippled surface, lovely to us whose eyes had for a time been confined to a narrow gorge or the blue sky above.
Hastily launching the canoe, we descended the outlet, where the water poured over huge bowlders covered with a long, weedy grass, the seeds of which had been washed from the lake. Walton was standing in the bow of the canoe, and shouted with delight, and waved his paddle enthusiastically in air as salmon after salmon flashed up through the water, and shot by, rapid as light. The sight made our nerves tingle, but it was useless to try for them; the water was too clear, and they were dark and long run from the sea. At one point he frantically shouted to stop, and hastily explained that he had seen five salmon and numerous large trout in one deep hole. In vain, however, did we cast our flies, they had been frightened, and probably rushed down the stream, for we could not stir a fin. Descending a short distance further, we halted for dinner, after which, taking advantage of a resting spell, I waded back to the same spot.
The pool lay close beside a little island covered with alders, and by crawling cautiously I kept out of sight, and reaching the head of the island, cast carefully and lightly round it into the pool. The line went out straight the full length, the fly fell like a snow-flake on the water, there was an angry rush, a mighty splash, a quick taughtening of the line, and an enormous fish was fastened to my frail tackle. In his astonishment he fortunately darted up stream, and by skillful management was led round into the other channel, where, after many a struggle and desperate effort to escape, baffled only by prudence and care exerted through a long but exciting half hour, I landed him by walking into the water waist deep, and slipping the net under him. As for leading him to shore, my rod, already bent double would not bear the strain. He was a dark-backed, yellow-sided river fish, and weighed four pounds and a quarter. He was our champion prize, and remained so to the end. The water not having been disturbed, I made another cast, and was rewarded by another fish that weighed four pounds. A brace of beauties, fit to set before a king. The second one, however, so fought and flounced, and kicked and slapped about in the pool, in spite of all my persuasive efforts to induce him to leave it, that the rest grew suspicious, and refused the most seductive baits. My friend looked the least little bit envious when I rejoined him, and mentioned his having previously taken a sea trout at the Mingan that weighed nine pounds. I smiled, of course respectfully. We returned to the lake, having taken in all fifteen fish averaging three pounds, and leaving the canoe on the beach, wended our way through the woods back to our sylvan home, where Pierre received us with a redoubtable supper. Insatiable, however, I that evening took eight, and next morning three, from our preserve, as we called the pool in front of the tent.