The Prison Mirror

A Sunday Excursion
By Tim K.

Sunday morning dawned and another one of those weekly sightseeing trips over the Lake of the Woods was about to start. Let's see what it was like.

At the dock we bought our tickets ($1.50 for the round trip) and then rushed up to the top deck to get a good seat. There were already about thirty or forty people up there, but all looked happy and were busy getting acquainted. It was only a small boat of about ninety tons that was used mainly for freighting service to the many islands, but every Sunday it made this 100-mile trip for the benefit of the tourists.

At 7:30 the whistle blew, the gangplank was withdrawn and the boat slowly moved up the river into the lake.

It was a beautiful day, sunny, warm, and only a few ripples marred the placid surface of the water. The orchestra had started playing and the passengers were talking to each other as if they were life-long friends.

About an hour after leaving, we seemed to be entirely surrounded by islands, some only a few feet wide, some several hundred yards and others several miles in width. Our guide told us the names and history of the most important ones as we went by. Gull Rock, a huge black rock jutting up from the water, upon which several thousands of gulls were perched, with more thousands flying around it. As we passed this rock the captain blew the whistle and instantly these gulls became a thick black cloud over the boat, flying low, screaming and flapping their wings in a most impressive manner. Long after we passed some of these birds followed the ship, picking up the scraps of food tossed overboard by the passengers.

A little later we came upon Massacre Island, where a French missionary and his entire party were massacred by the Indians. On top of this island is a large white cross with a huge pyramid of stones around it. Every visitor on this island added another stone to the pile in honor of these brave men. Next we passed The Three Virgins, three high piles of rock of the same height and same distance from each other.

It would take a very large book to name and describe all the islands as there is estimated to be between fourteen and fifteen thousand separate islands on the lake. We passed several hundred of them on our trip.

About 12:30, we arrived at Oak Island where we were to stop for four hours to eat and take part in the fun provided for us. As the boat docked we could see small boats, filled with young men and women, coming toward us with much waving and singing as they came.

We made our way to the dining room and after a very delicious dinner of fresh lake-trout, wandered over to the pavilion. The orchestra was in full swing and the floor was covered with a solid, whirling mass of dancers. The room itself was a riot of color with gayly colored streamers, confetti; and balloons were everywhere. Our guide came in and seeing me standing alone, grabbed my arm and we worked our way around the dancers to a room on the far side of the pavilion. There we amply guarded ourselves against possible snake bite and then, filling our pockets in case we should meet a snake on the way, proceeded over to the park where a baseball game was underway. The game ended 27 to something or other and we strolled back to the pavilion.

The crowd had almost doubled since we left and several couples were dancing outside on the grass. We again visited the refreshment establishment, but before we were comfortably seated, a loud whistle from the boat warned us that we had just thirty minutes to get aboard for the return trip home.

At four-thirty amid much cheering, waving and "Come agains," we started homeward, this time by a different route than the one we came over. A stiff breeze had come up blowing across the boat causing a roll which put a few passengers out of commission, but the surrounding islands stopped the biggest share of the wind and most of the passengers were able to be up and enjoy the ride.

As before, we passed innumerable islands, each with a history or legend about it. Each of these islands is named after a certain characteristic about it, as Sandy Beach, because it has a sandy beach, Rocky Point, Center Island, Blackbird Island, Buffalo Point and so on. Others are named after the owner or settler on it, such as Arneson Point, Zipple Bay, and Springsteele Island. A large share of these islands have cabins, launches, and guides for the accommodation of tourists and visiting sportsmen.

Lunch is being served below, but very few seem to be eating anything. Maybe its because of the roll of the boat and maybe because we are in the midst of some of the prettiest islands of the lake. Tall, straight trees, so close together that from here they seem only an inch apart.

Small white cottages and cabins in a clash of color against the dark green woods. Wide sandy beaches rising up from the shoreline all around the island. A few small boats with the two or three people in them pulling up the big ones, with hook and line, makes a fellow feel like leaping overboard, swimming ashore, and living there for the rest of his life.

The orchestra on deck is making a brave attempt to satisfy, but only two or three couples are paying any attention to it.

The sun is setting, its dying rays tinting the clouds red and pink making a beautiful scene still more beautiful. Suddenly, as if controlled by a switch, the wind died out, and with the exception of the music of the orchestra, everything seemed calm, serene, and peaceful as we docked at nine-fifteen to end a perfect day.