A TRAPPER’S TRAIL, THANKSGIVING and more

A Trapper’s Trail. Through his eyes.

 

Ralph Bice originally penned the following in his column “Along the Trail”. In some manner a lot has changed with the passing years while much, as “they” say, hasn’t changed at all.

CHAPTER 1

The Spring of 1973

Seldom now is there a party in the woods that is using guides, where forty years ago nearly all parties were in charge of guides. Being in the woods then meant using canoes, and people could not fish and paddle a canoe. Many of the people did not paddle and not many were capable of carrying the heavy packs needed when going on a fishing or camping trip. Now with the use of motor boats, and so many roads, almost anyone can have a trip into the woods. Any party you see now with a guide or guides is usually an old time gang. We used canoes as this bunch disliked motor boats. Fishing was fair, the flies were not nearly as bad as we had anticipated, and the weather was fine. The feeling that you were back in the woods, and “away from it all” is gone. So many motor boats and so many people. Guess that is what they call progress.

I wonder what Tim Holland, who had a hunt camp on the western tip of Butt (then called Eagle,) (presently called Bice.-ed) Lake would say if he could see all the people who were walking past where his camp once stood.

Notice that the size of the lake trout is much smaller than a few years back. This has been showing for several years but much more so this season. I do not think that other sections of the Park are as heavily fished as the area just east of Kearney (pronounced ‘Car-knee’), but if they are, fishing is headed for trouble.

There was an accident on Butt. Seems like a chap fell on a motor, and either broke or badly damaged his knee. There were four in the party, and we talked with them that day. Two walked the old road all the way to their car, and then drove all the way to Kearney to phone for a plane, which came in the next morning and took the injured man out. Hard to understand as there are but two small portages to get to their vehicle, and lots of help at our camp. The man should have, and could have been in hospital a few hours after he was injured, instead of the next day.

Nice to see the herons have a rookery of several nests on Scott or Magnetawan Lake this summer. Years ago there was a rookery there, as well as one on Dewfish, but they faded away, and seemed to concentrate on the two larger rookeries on Little Trout (now totally abandoned) and Islet Lake, where there are still one or two nests.

Looks like there is a loon nest, in view of the road, at the north end of Beaver (Bethune) Lake. Still a lot of loons but I have noticed a slight decline in the numbers we saw other years.

Very few signs of bear, which from a camper’s viewpoint is fine. Last year they did a lot of damage around David and Butt Lakes, but last week is the first time the garbage has been bothered by a bear. Speaking of garbage, I mentioned a while ago how nice and clean portages and campsites were looking. I spoke too soon. Looks like someone dropped a case of beer at the portage into Hambone Lake. There was much broken glass, right where people had to walk, and no effort made to clean the mess up.

Deer are beginning to return. If there does not come a whole lot more the hunting next fall is going to be even worse than 1972. There are quite a few moose but this is an off year, that is unless Fish and Wildlife gets a bit generous and lets us hunt moose again this fall. But then if those animals pull a disappearing act as they did last season it will not be much good to hunters.

A few small broods of partridge have been seen, but they too are going to be scarce.

Why do all these nice days go by so rapidly? In a few days the sun will be headed back to short days. And still chores I did not get done last summer have yet to be finished.

1973 SUMMER

Both loon eggs hatched at Beaver (Bethune) Lake and the little loons can be seen getting a free ride on the old loon’s back.

A loon was found dead at Kearney, a fish line in its beak. Looked like the unfortunate bird had swallowed, or attempted to swallow a line with a minnow on it. The line was in its gullet, just about to the sinker, and the fish line was wrapped around its beak.

Many years ago, at least forty- two loons were caught by fishermen still fishing for lake trout. Each was using minnows for bait. They did not put up much of a struggle, and both were freed of the hook, and went on their way. This happened on Cache Lake in Algonquin Park, and there were several witnesses to each occasion.

   On Rain Lake I saw a nice flock of American Mergansers. Once known as Saw Bill or Fish duck they are much in evidence but our local broad bill, the Black Duck, disappear as soon as the eggs are hatched. On the small rivers years ago, that is the Pine, Petawawa and Nipissing, we would see many flocks of almost grown black ducks, but I have never seen any when they are tiny.

Talked to a lady who told me there was an osprey nest with old birds sitting on same, no doubt hatching eggs. We did see one or two near Kearney early in the season, but not since. I have not seen nor heard tell of an eagle this summer.

The ravens have moved closer to civilization. They are at every dumpsite (garbage) and I imagine since the deer have disappeared there are no wolf kill remains to live on. It is nice to see them around town. When I was a boy it was so unusual to see a raven, but now they are quite common.

July

Last week I had two phone calls from our local M.P. Stan Darling, all the way from Ottawa. He was on a committee having to do with wildlife, and since Stan has spent most of his life piling up commissions on real estate and insurance, he has no time for hunting and fishing. I hope I was able to help him. I did not get to hear him on C.K.A.R. (radio) but he did get the biologists to admit that the wolves each would kill in the course of a year, 40 to 50 deer.

The most important animal, the white tailed deer is entirely overlooked. You only have to read hunting reports and talk to hunters to realize that the deer scarcity is getting to the serious point, but noone seems to care. We hear of studies of these animals, but hunters have been asking for help for fifteen years and the only change that was made was to increase the hunting fees by 100%.

I was sent a pamphlet being distributed at the Park Gates. The most ridiculous statement said that deer were entirely new in the Park. (Remember this is 1973-ed.) Just why such a thing would be put in writing is hard to understand. There were deer, as well as caribou when my grandfather built his camp on Rosebary Lake in 1870, almost a quarter of a century before the Park was established. There is the deer hunt of 1917, and there are many people who can recall driving through the Park after the last war, when many deer could be seen along the road. Algonquin Park, in spite of the misuse it has been getting, is still just about the finest part of Ontario, and there is no need for misleading articles about it.

According to the Wild Life Federation wolves only kill sick and old deer. Even after all the studies, there are people still using that old, old excuse. We must have a lot of such deer, for the last couple of winters the wolves wiped out a lot of small yards.

People travel miles to hear the wolves howl. I have only heard wolves once the last three years. Guess I will have to get a recorder.

When I first guided in the Park there were on this railroad well over 150 guides, counting all the various camps. There are probably less than a dozen now all told, and most if not all only guide part time.

This has not been a good fishing season. Talking to people from the other areas it looks like fishing is not too hot anywhere.

Remember the Beaver Lake loons?  Both eggs hatched. Now there is one. Was told one had been killed by a man with a paddle. Must have been some thrill killing a baby loon with such a club.

GAME LAWS

Last week a car load of boys (there was a man in charge) came looking for lodging. They had planned on tenting but there had been a lot of rain and it was still raining. We sent them to one of the camps along the road into Rain Lake. Next day he came back and asked if they might stay the weekend as the boys were enjoying themselves. I told him several places to see moose, perhaps deer and to fish. He asked where he might see some rabbits. I mentioned that we had no rabbits as he knew them, only the varying hare, or snowshoe rabbit. He didn’t care. He only wanted one for the pot. He said he had seen a partridge along the road but failed to get a shot. I asked him if he knew the game laws and he said he had read them once but once north of Barrie he could do as he pleased.

I hastened to explain, not too gently, that hunting in any form was illegal in this area and he promised to put his rifle away.

As a leader who has the time and willingness to work with a bunch of boys he should not encourage them to break the law. This brought to mind the young men who took a group of boys on a hunting expedition some years ago and two of them froze to death. This trip too was after all hunting had legally ended. Seems odd that people who go into the woods would have not have at least a bit of knowledge of the regulations.

Years ago it was not unusual to hear of five pound speckles or twenty-five pound lake trout but it looks like those days are gone. But at least the lakes and the woods are still nice.

Biologists?

Deer are still very scarce. They had a widely represented meeting in Eastern Ontario. They came up with a lot of reasons for no deer, and also a lot of hoped for cures. Again they are putting a lot of blame on beaver for causing so much flooding, and killing a lot of deer pasture. This I cannot go along with, for when we had the heaviest and best hunting was when the woods in the eastern side of Parry Sound District and the western part of Algonquin Park, also had the heaviest crop of beaver in the almost sixty years I have been in these woods. So I just cannot go along with the idea that deer are affected in any way by beaver.

One thing that was quite noticeable, and it would make a lot of hunters smile, that no mention was made of predation being any part of the reason for deer scarcity. I know they would have mentioned wolves but there was not one mention made of that in the press report.

They did suggest stopping non-residents from hunting, but if the deer keep on declining, there will not be any need of any regulations, as it is a long ways to come with no deer to hunt.

It is odd the idea people, some of them in responsible positions, have about the wild life conditions in the woods. When the deer population fell off so fat after those two bad winters in the late fifties, I talked to a man at Queen’s Park, and he took it quite lightly, even to saying I must be wrong, when I told him that the deer were away down in the Park. He told me his information was that they had just moved back from the road, and there were still lots of deer back in the woods. The fact that I had been on several canoe trips did not matter. The biologists in the Park said there were lots of deer.

There are two young men in our neck of the woods studying the creeks as to vegetation, soil, etc. Something to do with trout fishing. The fact that there has been good trout fishing in these little rivers for forty years does not matter, they have to see if they are suitable for trout.

So we who live in the woods will just have to accept the fact that non-academic woodsmen know very little about the woods they live in. But I wish some of those very learned people (and I use that adjective very loosely) would come up with some idea of bringing the deer back and put it into action.

A pair of golden eagles were seen last week in McCraney Township (not in the Park). Up to three years ago we saw eagles in that general area every summer, sometimes even three at once. They have not been reported since 1970. Our pair of ospreys has not been seen for ever so long.

A lady almost called me as three strange birds were walking around her back yard. By the description they must have been Great Blue Herons in juvenile plumage. Sort of odd to see three at once in a yard well away from water. I did not have the heart to suggest that they might have been storks, and just looking for good landing places in case of future flights.

I believe ospreys nested not too far from Sand Lake. At least they have been fishing, and one time three were seen, so they must have had a successful hatch. Most likely these are the birds we saw near Kearney early in the spring. As a boy I never heard them referred to as ospreys. They were simply known as fish hawks.

OCTOBER 1973

Why no deer? We see letters in the press telling about the terrible slaughter of our wild life by hunters, yet there was a report not so long ago telling us that predation and cars killed more deer than hunters.

True, there has been a deer study going on now for eighteen years, but no one has seen a report yet. Since I know the man in charge, I doubt if he ever went deer hunting. Funny, in spite of the scarcity of deer, I do have my fifty-ninth ten dollar deer hunting license in my pocket.

Thanksgiving weekend will be remembered as just about as perfect as weather could make it. Most everyone should know that Thanksgiving started with a service and feast held by the Mayflower Pilgrims away back in 1621. Their crops had been good and they were grateful for surviving in a new world.

The first proclaimed Thanksgiving in Canada was in Halifax in 1879, and later followed by Quebec and Ontario. The date was set as the sixth day of November, which same date was also observed by our neighbours to the south. For a number of years our Thanksgiving was held about the same time as Armistice Day, November 11^th, but since 1957 Canadians have been celebrating that day on either the first or second Monday in October.

In 1578 the explorer Martin Frobisher was so pleased with his success looking for the elusive North-west Passage that the Chaplain held a Thanksgiving Service to honour the event.

Mr. Editor, I liked the photo of the 5 deer and the caption that these deer no doubt would help keep the wolves from starving. That is more than I have seen in the last three summers in Algonquin Park. Perhaps these are some of the deer we were told were being imported to be trained to keep away from wolves.

Algonquin Cottagers

The idea of getting rid of the cottages in Algonquin Park bothers me. Oh yes, I have a lease, have had since 1930. It is not one of the oldest, and my latest renewal makes it one of the last to go. I will be pushing up daisies long before the lease expires, but even though the Park as I knew it has long gone, it would be nice to think my grandchildren could enjoy some of what I remember.

The first lease on Cache Lake, and it may have been the first one granted in the Park, was to a minister from New Jersey. That was in 1908.

In the mid fifties an edict was issued that cottages would eventually be moved out of the Park. The department was ready to buy back any improvements that had been made, and these cottages were then torn down, or in some cases burned.

At Huntsville I asked why the cottages had to go, when the summer camps and the stands along the road would be allowed to remain. Steven Lewis said it was showing favoritism to allow some to have cottages in the Park when there was not room for everyone. Years ago, when it took a lot of hard work to have a summer place there, no one seemed to mind. Now when access is so easy it is not a bit fair that those who have had a place to spend the summer for so long will have to go.

Wolves

The studies made in the Park fifteen years ago tell us that wolves need ten pounds of meat each day. That comes close to two tons of meat each year, made up of moose, deer and beaver.

Conservation

Last week the show about Grey Owl was on the air. This man, born Archie Belaney, did write some very fine books on the outdoors. He was of course a trapper who had lived a number of years with the Indians around Temagami, in fact in his later years was more of an Indian than the native people themselves.

At the time he was trapping the setup was not nearly as good as it is now wit Trapping Zones and areas were over trapped.

By his own statements he suddenly discovered that trapping was bad. I have read several times about what a great conservationist he was. The meaning of conservation as given by Mr. Webster does not mean that animals should not be taken. Only the means and ways be established to ensure that there would be plenty of these creatures left for following generations. Grey Owl’s theory was not along these lines. All he preached was to stop trapping.

Trappers themselves knew that something had to be done and in 1943 they argued for and got a zoning system. The zoning system has proven to be so successful in Ontario that other provinces, and indeed a section of the States are thinking of adopting our ideas.

While the department must be given full credit for the help they gave trappers, the idea came from the trappers.

November 1973

Last spring I made a rather long range forecast that the partridge hunting would not be good this fall. I based my prediction on the fact that there was much less drumming than usual in the spring. During the summer I had hopes that I was wrong for we saw quite a few flocks of young partridge. But come opening day there were few in evidence.

It used to be a standing joke that after deer season came around and everyone was carrying a heavy rifle, there would be numbers of these grouse. But not this fall. There are very few to be seen.

A decidedly sick partridge flew up in front of two hunters and landed. The man who caught the bird found it to be skin and bone. Also, tight in with the intestines was a growth almost as large as the cavity. Perhaps other partridge have had a similar sickness, and this accounts for the scarcity of birds.

But it is the scarcity of deer that is the worry. In spite of the press reports which assured good hunting, the deer are less in evidence than any year since 1930. Although we had snow four of the six days in the first week of the hunt we saw very few tracks. This year, in McCraney, the total kill was three deer, and two of these were shot by one man. All the deer were does, two of them dry does, and just one yearling.

Not a Good Place to Hide Whiskey

This little episode happened nearly sixty years ago. The men who took part are gone, though a son of one of them is a business man in Powassan.

It happened at what was then called Rainy Lake, in Algonquin Park. There was another place called by that name so the little railway station was changed to McCraney, and the post office to Brennan.

Rainy Lake was shortened to Rain Lake. The road to that section of the Park ends at Rain Lake. When I was first there the area where the campsite is now was then occupied by buildings that were the headquarters for the Booth Lumber Company, as they had a tote road going all the way to Nipissing River. There was a large sawmill that stood right across from where the trailer office sits. On the high point was a large three storey boarding house, and two smaller ones. There were a number of other houses as when the mill was in operation quite a number of people lived in the little hamlet. There was a school which also doubled for a church on the Sundays, and they had their own Orange Lodge. But it is a story I want to tell, not get into history.

Most everything travelled by train in those days. The Railway had a number of trains, and of course there were sectionmen to keep the line in repair. As in most cases, the section house that was provided for these men was a double house, built close to the track. There were two families living in the house and I believe there were also three other men as the section gangs then were comprised of five men.

During the summer, I imagine after pay day, the women had planned on a short trip, perhaps to their own homes, and of necessity they went on the train. The men decided that since they were to be on their own for a week they should have a bit of excitement. They decided to have Saturday night in Kearney, where there were two hotels, and in those days there was a bar in every hotel.

There were no motor cars for the sectionmen. They had a handcar and it was pumped by hand which must have been a lot of work as anyone who has seen those grades when there was tracks where we now have a road.

The train from Ottawa arrived at that station a few minutes after six. The men had hurried, as workdays then were ten hours and six days each week. They managed to get to the station in time and loaded their handcar on the train, which arrived in Kearney a few minutes before seven.

I was not told what they did during the evening but when everything was quiet they put their car on the rails and started the long pump back to Rainy Lake and up those heavy grades. After they passed Round Lake it was downhill.

Since they were to be on their own for a week they had taken back a case of whiskey, which in those days was twenty-four bottles. After they got home, tired but pleased with their evening, they decided they needed a bracer and amongst them they killed a bottle. Before they went to bed they were sober enough to realize that the men from the sawmill, or some of them, would be around in the morning looking for a drink, and they decided they should hide the remaining twenty-three bottles.

Early in the morning one of the men awakened and was badly in need of something, I believe they say “some hair of the dog that bit you.” Only thing, all he could find was the empty case. After a minute he vaguely remembered that they had hidden the bottles, so he started to look. He searched everywhere but no whiskey. In a while he called another, and finally all five were looking for their misplaced weeks supply of stimulant. But no luck, and they were getting a bit desperate. They could not think anyone would be around so early in the morning but noone could remember where they had hidden their whiskey.

In their excitement and worry noone had noticed that day was beginning to break. Then one of them happened to look out the window and there, sitting on a pile of ties, in full view of anyone who should pass by, was their twenty-three bottle of whiskey.

So many things to remember about McCraney. The well kept station, the many flowers, the lovely garden. All gone but the rhubarb patch. The sawmill was moved to Kearney, its third location, and then to Searchmount, above the Soo on the A.C.R.

THE LAST DEER

Harvey came to this area some years ago before the railway was built. The house and barn his father built or had built is still standing. Hattie, his wife, was born at Ravensworth, and her family were there even before there was a road wide enough for real heavy vehicles. They lived in a small house, just east of Kearney. There were no children. I worked with Harvey in the sawmill at Kearney and later in different work in the woods. Though he was more my father’s age, we were very good friends.

As he grew older Harvey developed arthritis or some such trouble and did not get around too much. I visited him at his house not as often as I should have, and had many nice chats about the early days.

One thing that I noticed was that his rifle hung on pegs over the kitchen door. Jokingly I asked if he was still afraid of Indians, and had it explained that in the early days the rifle was kept close to the door in case some animal appeared close by and it would be necessary or wise to shoot it.

Harvey, like nearly all the early settlers, liked to go deer hunting in the fall, and one of his deepest regrets was that his condition did not permit him to go with his usual crowd for the fall hunt. Then he was always so interested in the success other parties had, and for weeks after the hunt he wanted to talk about deer.

This particular fall had been milder than most during deer season. In fact the last morning of the hunt was more like a day in early October than mid November. When he first opened the door to enjoy some of the bright sunshine he perked up his ears and remarked to his wife that he could hear hounds running. Listening closer he said that they were headed for town, and as he had hunted many times in that area he thought the deer would take to the water near the sawmill and cross the lake to the Jarvis farm.

But the chase continued, and he began to get excited. “Hattie,” he said, “ it looks like the deer are crossing Harry White’s back field, and will go behind the Catholic church and might even cross near here, like they did years ago.”

So he reached up while still standing in the door, took his rifle down, put a few shells in the magazine, and got a real thrill as the dogs came closer. Then, as if it had been a prepared script, out of the bit of woods at the edge of the little field stepped a small buck and stood watching and listening for the dogs. One shot ended the hunt, and Harvey had his deer.

There were lots of friends to clean and cut up the deer and the two of them enjoyed many meals from this deer that had arrived so unexpectedly.

Harvey did not see another fall but I do know from talking to him that his last few months were made a lot brighter because of that deer.

Coincidence? Luck? Just as things happen? Perhaps. But the fact remains that one thing Harvey wanted to do was have a deer hunt and even shoot a deer and there are some of us with just enough Irish to think that it would be that the Deity or Being who sits away out there on the outer edge of beyond and sort of looks after the destiny of old woodsmen and hunters knew his wishes, and planned it to happen just as it did.

Just Catching Up

It was so warm during the hunting season in 1918, the first year the First World War ended. The Department got generous. Our deer license was increased from three to four dollars and we were allowed two deer. The hunting was good, and many hunters took home two deer. But many of the deer had spoiled, and were not fit to eat. The next season we were back to one deer, but somehow or other they forgot to put the cost back to three dollars. I notice that the official reports as issued by the Ministry of Natural Resources does the usual cover up job. I guess it looks better from their angle to just use a general average. People who do not go into the woods still think there are a lot of deer. It might have been more realistic to come right out and say that in spite of the poor hunting of the last few years this last fall must go on the books as the poorest hunting on record.

There seems to be more wolves around than for several years. Cannot explain why for there are only a few deer, also few rabbits. So the moose may have to take the brunt this winter.

Saw the column written by John Powers in the Star last week, and he is worried about the lake trout fishing. This next season the three fish limit is going to be in effect all over the province. Years ago people who were interested in lake trout fishing tried to warn that the fishing was getting over the hill and we were told that it was not possible to fish a lake to depletion. Perhaps not but recently it has almost come to that. A bad move was when they threw Algonquin Park open and then decided to allow the people to fish without a license. Even with the most stringent of controls, it will take many years for the lake trout to come back to where they were even fifteen years ago.

Biologists who sit in an office miles away do not agree with me but when you go to a lake where once fish averaged two to three pounds and now catch them, if you are lucky enough, where a fish fifteen inches weighs less than a pound – then something must be very wrong.

The odd thing that the group of men who met several times making plans for Algonquin Park did not come up with any plans to help the fishing or bring back the game.

Reflections/ Beginnings

It seems so long ago that Morry Barr decided to become a newspaperman. I suggested that it might be a help if he was to have an outdoor column. I did not hear of it again until much later when he told me that my suggestion was a good one. Then out of the clear sky, he did not even ask, he told me that I was going to write said column. So just for the thrill and fun of writing I decided to tackle it. That was three years ago.

I have never tried to give any advice as to methods of fishing and hunting. I will continue to object to people living in southern sections of the Province, some with very little in any knowledge of the woods, trying to tell us up here what we should be doing in our area.

Too, I object to those young biologists who study for a few years, listen to lectures that are very biased, and then by their attitude know more about the woods than people who have spent all their lives there.  (Perhaps they do.)

BISCOTASING 1974

There are a lot of people who have never heard of the hamlet of Biscotasing. Years ago it was well known as a saw mill centre, and for many years there were large quantities of pine logs cut into lumber. But the mill is gone, as well as the pine. Only a few people still live there, some of them retired. By the size of the churches they must have had quite a few people who worshipped there.

I first heard of this place when I was a very small boy. My grandfather had taken the notion he wanted to trap there, and he spent part of a winter not too far from the railroad. I remember him telling us his visits with the Indians, and their surprise at him being able to kill large animals with only a 32-caliber rifle. The Indians had only single barrel shotguns. He told us there were no deer and few moose. The only other such animals he saw were caribou, and he had killed one or two with this small bore rifle. I remember when he told us of killing two otter with one shot.

My brother was deputy chief fire ranger there for several years, and I learned a lot about the lakes and woods there. One of his fire rangers was Archie Belaney, better known as Grey Owl.

I was visiting trapper George MacKee. The family had originally come from the Loring area in 1914. The father and seven sons were all trappers. Only one of the next generation is trapping. The MacKee’s raised a family of twelve at Metagama and there was no school. The children got their education from the school car, and from correspondence. The father was quite proud to tell me that when they did get to go where there was a school, the children were a year further advanced than other children of the same age.

I saw some paintings done by a local Indian boy, and while I cannot by any way be called an art critic, these were very lifelike. Best one was a charcoal sketch of Archie Belaney, done before he was to become famous as Grey Owl. Anyone who ever saw a picture of Grey Owl would say it really looked like the now famous man.

I also saw a pair of moose antlers, shot in that region, that first measured seventy-six inches but now only seventy-three. So perfectly matched.

Fresh in my mind was the story of Grey Owl shooting at the Anglican Church bell during their church service. The woods and lakes from the train looked very unspoiled. Let’s hope they can continue that way.

IT WAS A GOOD TRIP

Many years ago I wondered what it would be like to have a trip out west. I never did think such would materialize but it did. For the next three weeks I will be working with trappers.

One has to marvel at the speed with which we can get from one part of the country to the other. To be in my home at 1:30 a.m. and in Prince George around 4:00 p.m. This was the largest plane I had ever been in. When full, as it was, there is room for 265 passengers.

As usual, one noticed the friendliness of the various people around the terminal. I had no more than entered the door when a young lady came up and said it was no need for me to be having a pack on my back, and carrying a suitcase in one hand, and my typewriter in the other. In only a few minutes I was not allowed to do anything, my luggage had been checked and I was given instruction where to get on the plane. Just before take-off a young lady came and sat down beside me. Right away it seemed she wanted to be friendly and even started explaining all the regulations that were coming over the intercom. I mentioned that she had a very good knowledge of planes and she said she should, as she was a stewardess on Air Canada. She was on holiday and going home to Edmonton. We both had books, but there was not much reading done, and after we had crossed Lake Superior the air was very clear and although we were seven miles high I could see the lakes in Quetico were frozen and lightly covered with snow.

I always enjoy a meal on an airplane, and this was no exception. My seat companion informed me that the meals were prepared at base, and then warmed up on the plane. I should say heated as everything was in good shape for eating. We played cribbage, each winning an equal number of games, and suddenly came instructions to fasten seat belts. The next flight stopped at Dawson Creek then Prince George. Met by the man in charge of the course, but one piece of my luggage was missing (it arrived next day).

I was asked if I liked fish and for our evening meal we had rainbow trout. Awfully good. And cooked just the proper way.

Sunday had a short trip on the trap-line with my host. We have a nice fisher, a lynx and some beaver to start the course. Tomorrow the course will be starting, and it will be interesting working with trappers from a new area.