BY SIR JOHN ROGERS K.C.M.G., D.S.O., F.R.G.S. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS BY THE AUTHOR AND REPRODUCTIONS OF PHOTOGRAPHS LONDON CHAPMAN AND HALL, Ltd. 1912...

The following pages are simply a transcription of my rough diary of two autumn holidays in Vancouver Island and Newfoundland in search of sport—should they prove of any use to those who may follow in my steps, I shall feel amply rewarded....

From the day I read in the Field Sir Richard Musgrave's article, "A seventy-pound salmon with rod and line," and located the river as the Campbell River, I determined that should the opportunity arise, I, too, would try my luck in those waters. Subsequent articles in the Field , which appeared from time to time, only increased my desire, and the summer of 1908 found me in a position to start on the trip to which I had so long looked forward. Living in Egypt, the land of eternal glare and sunshin

The morning of July 29th found me on board the Queen City , the small but most comfortable steamer of the Canadian Pacific Railway running north to the Campbell River and beyond. The Captain was a delightful companion, patriotic to a degree, and regretting what he considered the neglect shown by the Old Country to the Dominion of Canada, when American and Canadian interests were at issue. The steamer was well found and well managed, while the Captain's skill in approaching our various stopping-p

Different names have been given by different sportsmen to the salmon found on the Pacific Coast. Sir R. Musgrave talks of spring salmon of 53 lb. and silver salmon of 16 and 8 lb. I inquired carefully from the manager of the Cannery Factory in Quatiaski Cove, and believe the following to be the correct nomenclature. The tyee or King salmon, running from 28 lb. to 60 and upwards. The spring salmon, which appeared to me to be the young tyee, having the same relation to the big tyee as the grilse h

July 30th I looked forward to as a red-letter day in my life, for was I not to have my first chance for that 70 lb. fish, about which I had dreamt for so many years? The early morning (we were all up at 6 a.m.) was spent in getting my tackle ship-shape, and, most important of all, in engaging the services of a good boatman—for on his strength and willingness to "buck the tide," as they happily term rowing against the strong tidal currents, depends largely the chance of success. The man I selecte

As regards tackle, one rule only must be followed: everything must be of the best, and the best is to be obtained either in England or New York. The choice of a rod is a difficult matter, and depends altogether on the individual idea of what constitutes sport. If by sport is meant the taking of the greatest number of fish in the shortest possible time, in fact the making of a record—no rod is necessary. Follow the Indian method of fishing with a strong hand-line and no trace, the spoon being fas

The morning of the 27th fulfilled the promise of the previous day. The weather had at last broken, and it was in a dense wetting mist that we crept north, bound for Alert Bay. We had no delay at the Seymour Narrows, which can only be navigated at a certain state of the tide. The whole force of the Pacific runs through these narrows—not more than half-a-mile broad—and the eddies and whirlpools that are formed are terrifying. There is one great rock in the middle of the passage—a special source of

The morning of the 29th was fine and the river was looking lovely in the brilliant sunshine. Just before the Indians with their canoes arrived, a doe deer came down on to the shingle across the river. As we required meat, neither sex nor season was taken into consideration. My rifle was not ready, so Smith had a shot at about 120 yards and missed. I then had a try and missed the deer, which stood without moving, but with a second shot I brought her down. In a moment "Nigger" was into the river a

September 8th. We got away in fine weather through the most open country we had yet met. Our objective was a lake about three miles away, for having found Keogh Lake, Eustace Smith's rough-sketch map now came in useful. The country looked more promising for game, for we came across many well-beaten wapiti tracks and at least two fresh tracks of good bulls. We got into camp fairly early and selected the most level piece of ground to be found some twenty yards from the lake; the edge of the lake i

September 12th was a lovely crisp morning with a touch of frost in the air. The lake was looking perfect as we turned our backs on it, leaving the game country and all the chances of another wapiti behind. It was hard luck and I think we were all more or less depressed. We made a good march down the Spruce valley till we struck Keogh Lake in the early afternoon. This was the route by which we should have come in, as it was fairly open, more so than any other portion of the forest we had gone thr

Having still a few days to spare, I decided to try for a Rocky Mountain goat on the Mainland. Lansdown had lived for some years at the head of Kingcome Inlet, one of the great inlets running in to the Mainland, just behind the island on which the town of Alert Bay is situated. He stated that goats were plentiful but that one would have to climb up to the tops of the mountains at this season of the year. He also pretended to an intimate knowledge of every turn and bend of the inlet, and the best

Notwithstanding my resolve that the Vancouver trip should be my last one, the call of the wild was once more too strong, and the summer of 1910 found me planning an expedition to Newfoundland. I think J. G. Millais' charming book Newfoundland and its Untrodden Ways , as well as the description he personally gave me of the country, were largely responsible for my decision. I sailed from Southampton on August 5th by the Cincinnati , of the Hamburg-Amerika Line, bound for St. John's, Newfoundland,

In planning my trip I had the benefit of J. G. Millais' advice. He first recommended me to try the country at the head of the La Poile River on the south coast near Port aux Basques. On inquiry I found out that canoes could not be used. Everything would have to be packed, and it would take six men to pack to the hunting grounds. With the memory of my Vancouver trip before me, I decided against the La Poile country and packing, and chose the ground Millais had hunted with such success in 1906. He

The following day, the 29th, I had to wait for the men to come back, so did not start till 10.30. The track led up the steep hill behind Ryan's house. It was rough going, but nothing in daylight, and the air that morning made one feel glad to be alive. After a steady rise of about two miles we came on to a great wild plateau with hardly a tree to be seen, and I had my first experience of the great barrens of Newfoundland. The colouring was exquisite, and though desolate in the extreme the scener

The morning of the 31st was bright and cold, though rain had fallen in the night, and we got away about 9 o'clock. One hour's steady paddling and rowing, for the larger canoe had oars, took us to the north end of Hungry Grove Pond, about three miles I should say, from which issued a brook communicating with Red Hill Pond. The water was very low and the men spent most of their time in the water dragging the canoes over the rocky shallows. I strolled along the bank and saw many old tracks of carib

September 5th was a lovely morning, not a breath of wind and a cloudless sky, so different from yesterday. Getting away at 9.30 we made a good four miles an hour, reaching our camping ground at the west end of the lake at 11.30. Steve, Joe and I were in the big canoe and John, a fine boatman, in the small canoe which skirted the shores of the lake. We disturbed a small stag which was feeding along the shore and which at once disappeared in the woods. The camp was simply perfect, fairly open yet

Though the wind was almost blowing a gale against us we decided to start, and crept along under the shelter of the shore. Heavy seas were breaking over the numerous sunken rocks and we shipped a good deal of water. I was not sorry to reach a point about three miles off, where the lake turned round to the north and where we had a following wind, and though the waves were still high they were behind us, and we soon reached a short rapid leading into Kepskaig Lake. We had covered the distance from

The morning of the 15th was grey, and though the glass was falling, the weather looked like clearing. The men dawdled about and it was 11 before we all got away. Our plans were to take three good packs up to Shoe Hill Ridge and then send Joe back for what we wanted from time to time. We had kippered all the big trout and very excellent they were later on, for no fish were to be had on the barrens. We reached the top of the ridge about 1 o'clock, when heavy rain set in. As I could not walk in an

Just as we had packed up a fearful thunderstorm came on which lasted over an hour, and we did not get away till 11.45, arriving at Sandy Pond at 3 o'clock, wet through. The water was pouring down the hill sides, every deep deer track was a torrent, and it was heavy going through the marshes. We had a meal and a change of clothes, and, packing the canoes, reached the portage into Sandy Pond at dusk. The evening was fine; we pitched camp in a nice droke and over a good hot supper at 9 o'clock the