Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 September 1951 — Page 9

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Inside Indianapolis S By Ed Sovola po

Summer Ice Fishin » Nothing Is Impossib e

ICE FISHING —Take it from a man who knows, now isn't the time.

FISHING through the ice White River isn't as much think. Brrrrr. Don't try it. Anyone who has fished in the winter knows It isn’t easy. The inconveniences can be multiplied In’ the waning days of summertime. For example, the absolute minirfim of ice a man can float on is 1800 pounds. You don’t get that much ice from . a refrigerator. +a

My outing began simply. I thought it would be a good deal to get ice fishing out of my system early this year. A fisherman, you know, isn't happy unless he fishes through the ice once a season. It's like going to a football game in zero weather or in a driving rainstorm.

Clothes weren't a problem.- My gear consisted of a pair of track shoes, earmuffs and swimming trunks. Good. For White River fishing I hauled out my trusty cane pole and frozen worms dipped in blackstrap molasses for flavor.

Da < x

I WAS READY except for the ice. A call to \my friend Herbert Porter, manager of Polar Ice & Fuel Co. turned out to be a lulu. Could he supply me with one 300-pound cake of ice? Sure, what for? S Something happened to our telephone connection for several minutes when I told Herb about ice fishing. He said it would pe impossible to float on one cake of ice, Liza or no Liza in

in September on fun as you might

Uncle Tom's Cabin. :

For several minutes I listened to a discourse on the weight of ice, the weight of water and bouyancy. It was a little too complicated for me. “Herb, can you get the ice? Where is your spirit of adventure?” *“ Keep your worms dry, I"ll figure something out,” Herb sighed. > We arranged to meet under the Michigan St. bridge. The weather was perfect and the river was calm, sparkling in the sunlight. What could possibly go wrong? : ie aw SHORTLY, Herb rolled down the bank in a car with veteran ice handler Keith Doty. Behind them came a “Polar Ice Luther Shackelford, Kenneth Scott and Driver John Strickland, who never made a delivery to White River before in his life. The men looked me over carefully at a distance. With the aid of Herb I soon won them

It Happened Last Night

By Earl Wilson

HONG KONG, Sept. 17 rode a rickshaw, I did it with misgivings. Like most people, I don’t like the idea of a human being pulling me in a two-wheeled cart—trotting as though he were & horse. In fact, these “human horses” have been banned in most places in the Far East—but here the coolies trot up with their carts and ask for Your business, So (since they feel that way about it) I may. as well confess—1I took TWO rickshaw rides.

An American friend arranged my first one.

I finally made it. I

* shore.

truck with Foreman _

three-block ride in advance for us... be no dispute this time.

over and they began to show interest in the project. They unloaded a huge wooden frame to hold the ice, 1800 pounds. That was Herb’s idea and it was a good one. Luther, Keith and Kenny placed the six cakes and everyone was talfing about calling the police rescue squad just in case.

S. 8. Icecake was pushed a few feet from the The thing floated marjestieaiiy. John Strickland pulled it back with a long-handlied pick and "Herb shoved me aboard. “You better get going before the ice melis,” he advised. ; The spikes on the track shoes allowed me to skip merrily over the ice. As long as I didn’t put all the weight on one block, my feet were out of the water.

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THERE ARE fishermen who believe’ White River has fish. I've always had my doubts. Maybe the ice frightened them away, since it is rather early, for a freeze. Not even a nibble came to the fisherman on S. 8. Icecake.

It became tiresome skipping so I decided to sit a spell. Should have brought a stool. The ice is cold. It also was melting, and the cakes began to move around in the frame. S. 8. Icecake began to sink lower in the water, Then she began to come apart. The Polar Ice contingent yelled instructions. Ever stand on two. blocks of ice When they begin to move apart? Li'l Liza had nothing on me. “Pull that block in. Get your feet together. Don’t let the one on the end get away.” BD oe <> IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE to concentrate on fishing. The main idea was to stay above water and keep the ship together. The men on the bank were having a good time. Something was tickling their funnybones. Three cakes of ice went one way, two started down the river and the one I was on began to go down. I lost my balance and the fishing pole. “Jump.” shouted Herb. I did, another and then—kerplunk. We waved to S. S. Icecake as she disap-

from one to

«peared around the bend, all six pieces of her.

“Had enough?” asked Herb. “Didn't work out very well, did it?” “Let's go, men.” No fish, except this one.

Earl Rides Rickshaj Twice and Is Takén

proprietor in N. Y. Unable to get a taxi back, we took two rickshaws.

: * deb A CHINESE friend paid the fare for the . 80 there'd

But there almost was anyway—for at the end

of the ride, they held out their hands again, de-

manding more. We decided they were asking for additional tips.

So we gave them more, and they grinned

thankfully, and everybody was happy.

To tell you the truth, the people in this beau-

To his Chinese driver who doesn’t handle English very well, he said, “We go Wanchai, huh? Master ride rickshaw.” “Don’t know rickshaw.” replied the Chinese, surprisingly. “Sure, sure, we go rickshaw PULL!” explained the American.

s. >

THE CHINESE nodded and smiled. We picked out our coolie, a tall fellow, barefooted and in shorts, It was agreed he would pull me for 3 or 4 minutes for a picture, for 2 Hong Kong dollars + . . about 35 cents, When we finished taking the picture, and paid the fare, the coolie held out his hand again and said: : . '“No, no! Want two American dollars!”

My American friend thought $2 for 4 minutes was too much and shouted, “You go. Go! I call police.” The coolie spat on our car and we left—a very dissatisfied customer. Later the Beautiful Wife and I went to visit

the mother of Sou Chan, famous House of Chan

K ow

Americana By Robert C. Ruark

NEW YORK, Sept. 17—The blitz was pretty bad and the North Atlantic mean and miserable

and the Pacific was hot and scary, but the lip remained stiff and after I won the war there were no dreadful scars of soul or body. But this iq not so today. ’ There is a thing going on in my house that has reduced mé

to a mass of raw ganglia— worse, it has reduced me to sharecropping in the bachelor © flat of a dreadful acquaintance when the going gets too tough for my raddled nerves. Briefly, we are redecorating, I believe ¥ it is’ called by some villain named Rogers McLelland, and nothing that happened to London is even mildly comparable . to the shambles of my home. ry If a man is only happy when surrounded by his books, then I am the happiest guy in the world, There are close to 2000 volumes on the floor inthe bedroom; and you are looking at the fellow who just sprained his ankle on “Death in the Afternoon.” : ob

THE REASON the books are in the bedroom 8s that they are painting the joint, and the smell of turpentine: and other delicious unguents is redolent." Both dogs, I note, are a delicate shade of green, which comes of rubbing against the reshly tinted bookcases. If there -is anything I 10 not wish to see in the morning it is a green Og. : ] : : ; What appears to be the skeleton of a dead inosaur lies, menacingly in the living room, and am told-it is the b ly bony nucleus of a new

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tiful and lovely city do pretty good with many tourists. An English-speaking Malayan with a technique that would g0 well in N. Y. talked his way into my hotel room. claiming he had something to tell me. “I use to own race horses,” he said, showing me the clippings. “I gambled the money away. I had three motar cars and big homes.

“Now I live here in a hut. I would like you to *

let me ‘have $150 to g0 back to Singapore where I come from to start over.” :

Flash! I did not give him the $150.

But I did give him 10 Hong Kong dollars $1.65. And do you know something?” His spiel was so effective, as he told me of having been a rich man, that I felt like a heel for not giving him something worthwhile!

*. * wn oe

TODAY'S BEST LAUGH: When a gal's falsies slipped out of place one day as she walked down the street in Encio, Cal., a guy named Coin Taylar cracked, “Her show is slipping!” Taffy Tuttle told stylist Lew Ritter, this suit for a ridiculous figure.” have,” agreed Ritter. . .

“I bought “You certainly . That's Earl, brother.

Ruark in a Fit Over Redecorating Blitz

divan. It is only slightly smaller than 4 B-29, and without being told I know it costs at least as much to build." top There ain't no place to sit at all, because all the furniture has’ gone to the hospital for injections of chintz, or whatever you do to sick furniture. The sole survivor is a piano, and I am not Helen Morgan, rest her soul.

x, . *. b> x oe oe

THE RUGS are up, of course, and the drapes are down, of course, and the ready voices of the

corpsmen who are comparing swatches of things re-echo through the dank caverns that used to comprise an apartment. There seem to be a few old buffalo skulls and an odd antler or so lying about in this desert, but that is all I have for company, because the old lady lost her courage, too, and went away, thoughtless of my welfare.

There is always somebody hammering at something, or tearing something down, or putting something up, or taking something out, or mixing something or cutting something or sewing something. There is a small forest of ladders growing ~ in the dining room, and a large group of strangers in and out. They could he burglars or revenuers or Russian spies, for all I know, because none of them ever speaks to me, although I have made feeble overtures at friendship. oe oo oo

WHAT 1S the purpose of all this toil and ‘moil I don’t know. The place where the books lived used to be green, and will be green again. They are keeping secret the color of the living room, ‘but I am betting she turns out.the same. old. tired shade. And you know that nobody 'is going to be comfortable on that bony divan, even if they stuff it with peach fuzz. © = .

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-west, told Morris about the.

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~The Indianapolis Times

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MONDAY,

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By JULIUS HUMI

Times Special Service

APO D'ISTRIA, Yugoslav-Occupied Trieste, Sept. 17— The average Yugoslav soldier still regards the West

as an enemy, judging by

reactions I picked up as the

first Allied newsman to visit Zone “B,” the Yugoslav-

controlled area of Trieste. Once a Yugoslav “GI” and I stood with our ‘weapons’ pointed at one another, I with my camera, he with his rifle. My

accompanying officer prevented an incident.

Getting into the zone proved surprisingly easy. The frontier that separates Allied-occupied Zone “A” from Zone “B” is only 20 miles long. But it is just as formidable as the other Iron Curtains between the Western and the Communist worlds. I had tried to have British and American officials arrange my visit to Zone. “B,” but without success. :

Finally, I visited the Yugoslavian mission in the Allied zone. There was only one question: did I want to go that afternoon or could jt wait until morning? : My Italian friends were very anxious for my safety. They practically asked me to make out my will before I left. But I was never in any danger in Zone “B,” although once a Yugoslav soldier persuaded me not to take a picture by the impressive device of pointing a rifle at my head.

u n un

THE GUARDS at the border were not as easily impressed as the secretary in the mission had been. The Allied-employed Italian guards were astonished that I had permission to cross,

and the Yugoslav guards did

not seem too pleased to admit me. But they did.

The camera I brought with me upset the Yugoslavs. I was only allowed to proceed after they assigned an officer, Miletic Rajko, to accompany me everywhere I went. Rajko passed on every picture I took, or at least he thought he did. I managed to shoot a few pictures of Yugoslavian soldiers when he was looking the other way. And there are soldiers, Yugo-

EDITOR'S NOTE: Despite the fact that Tito is wooing the friendship of the West since he broke away from Stalin, Yugoslavia still rolls down an Iron Curtain to Western newspapermen. Here's an exclusive glimpse behind that curtain, told in words and pictures. Julius Humi is the first Allied national newsman to pentrate Tito's Zone B of the Trieste Free Territory, a piece of international real estate that. may become a major issue.

slav soldiers, everywhere in Zone “B.” They are young and tough looking, but their equipment is woefully weak. Their uniforms and boots are ragged. - There are a few Russian-made * trucks and jeeps but most of the 5000 soldiers stationed in Zone “B” travel by horse-drawn carts. : » n n

RAJKO HAD SAID I could photograph soldiers if “they wanted to.” Every time I saw a horsedrawn cart he made a

great show of-talking‘them into a picture. But always the answer was ‘niede,” an extreme negative. At one place, a soldier pointed his gun at me to emphasize his feelings. Rajko had to explain continually that I had permission to be there. Officers would suggest that I should be arrested, but he stood up for me.

Outside of soldiers, Zone “B”

is inhabited largely by peasants.

There are 75,000 persons in the area, more than 60,000 of them Slovenes, or of Slovene extraction. And their lot is a hard one,

Since the Yugoslavs occupied the zone in 1946, they have been cut off from Allied aid. The people had to produce what they needed to live, and had to feed the occupying Yugoslav

YUGOSLAV RESORT—Tito-run hotel in Yugoslav zone of

Trieste was rebuilt.

Fabulous Fishing—

By “ANDY ANDERSON Scripps-Howard Staff Writer

(GREAT SLAVE LODGE, Northwest Territories?” Canada, Sept. 17—I am up here with 11 other folks from down on the Gulf Coast. All are fishermen and can

brag of some nice catches in home from this trip they will be telling tall tales which no one will believe but every one of the tales will be true. I think this the most fabulous fishin’ spot I have ever been in. I've ~been at places where vou had great runs of fish’ periodically but up here in the narrows of the Great Slave Lake we have enjoved fabulous mackinaw trout fishin’ day after day. The first day we arrived here the party caught 2000 pounds of trout and every pound was returned to the water. The big mackinaws run anywhere from four to 40 pounds and several weighing 32 pounds have -been taken by members of the party. You can imagine the kick these . fellows get out of tossing fish this size back into the drink: Great Slave Lodge is operated by Leonard Morris big game outfitter- and guide from Cody, Wyo. He was in Edmonton a. few years back to see about an oil lease and the fabulous Vie Ingraham, -the ,subject of many stories of the North-

is

First of a

Series

Bhin heres io

the past but when they get

Ingraham made a fortune in Yellowknife, 160 miles from here, as a prospector, trapper and businessman, He had the toes of both feet frozen while on a trek through the harrenlands in the Arctic Circle with the temperature at 60 below. Morris liked what Ingraham told him, being more or less of a soft touch for anything that concerns fishin’ and\ hunting and particularly if he ¢an outfit and guide the party, n on ou THIS WILL ALWAYS be good fishin' because it is so hard to get to and the cost is out of reach of the ordinary working man. Morris set up a fee of $500. a week for the lodge. This sounds high except that it costs $150 a round trip to fly patrons in from Yellow-

—dnife—And your round trip fare

is included in the $500, plus guides, comfortable tents, fine food by Pop and Mom Anderson, and rods, reels and bait.

The place presently is reached only by air from Edmonton to . Yellowknife on the Canadian Pacific Air Lines. Then ‘“bushhoppers”, pick you up in float planes and,” boy, ‘how they do load them and fly them! It is 160 miles from Yellowknife to

here by water but the bush

pilots take a. short tut and the trips is 1600. miles. i

~The season is. exceedingly stay overnight at our camp but

SEPTEMBER 17, 1951

ven The Red Officer Was Embarrassed— &

fl Caught With Iron Curtain Down

TTO'S SOLDIERS—In Trieste, they didn't like the idea of being photographed.

troops to boof. It hasn't been easy. Food was rationed until very recently and clothing is still rationed. ! n » » OF LATE, some of the border restrictions have been relaxed enough so that Zone “B” residents may market in Al-lied-controlled Zone “A,” where prices are better and goods more plentiful. And American aid to Yugoslavia has filtered

through enough to east the situation a little.

But Zone “B” has a weak economy. There are only two industries in the entire area—a jam factory at Isola that is working at half-capacity, and a wine cellar still being built near Capo d’Istria. An unex--pected bonanza has been the 52,000-ton Italian liner Rex, which was washed up on the shore near Capo d'Istria after it was bombed by Allied planes in the war.

A two-man crew has been working for over two years, slowly dismantling the ship. The scrap metal has helped Zone “B” make ends meet. Authorities are hopeful that they’ve found d new source of revenue in Portorosa, a tiny tourist resort. They've reconstructed a 120-room hotel and —fixed-the beach until it rivals anything in the Adriatic. An -agreement reached with Allied authorities permits American and British "soldiers, stationed in Zone “A,” to: spend their holidays in Portorosa. Few have taken advantage of the opportunity so far, but -a good many Swiss, Austrian and Scandinavian families have discovered that Portorosa offers a pleasant and inexpensive vacation.

= ® myi THROUGHOUT ZONE “B.’ the People’s Militia is everywhere in evidence. Rajko continually reprimanded me for referring to that organization as police.

“Police are unnecessary in a country where everyone obeys the laws and is disciplined,” he said. But he didn’t explain what the function of -the People's Militia was. This militia is all made up of Yugoslavs, in keeping with a

short. The ice does not run off the lake until July 15. The lake freezes over again Oct. 1, but the camp usually has to

close Sept. 15. No hunting is’ permitted. : ‘ Eon 3 " ” a THIS COUNTRY is the real Northwest that Jack London wrote about. Here you meet the real Royal Mounties. Not the chap in flaming red coat and shining puttees, but the bewhiskered chap who gets about by motor canoe in the summer* and dog sled in the winter, The first night I was here a Mountie and his Indian interpreter dropped in on their way

to Reliance from Yellowknife, ‘It was a’ 200-mile trip and they

had 90 miles to go. It was about _ 10 p, m. and we asked them to .

nn ; 5 $4.

. dogfood

stated “Yugoslavisation” policy. Though bars and shops will accept Italian lire, the official currency is the Yugoslav dinar. Inscriptions on walls and shops are in Slovene first, then Italian. All customs officials, guards and even railway workers are Yugoslavs.

Although Rajko was explicit in saying that “everyone obeys the laws,” I was made aware of fear in the peasants. I stopped to take a picture of an old man carrying his wine cask on his shoulder. I asked him how old he was, and he said 64, well under the government retirement age. :

The old man ‘was apprehensive when he caught sight of Rajko and his Army uniform. He hastened to explain that he wasn’t working because he was sick that day. He started to pull out a doctor's certificate to prove it,

Rajko was obviously embarrassed as he led me away. For an instant, I had caught him with his Iron Curtain down.

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HORSE:-DRAWN ARMY—Tito's troops are young and tough, but their equipment is weak and most of them travel by wagon.

They Tossed Back 32-Pounders

>

the Mountie said he had to get back. He had not been out of Reliance and his district for three years. They left by canoe for the all-night jaunt. Just below camp are big drying racks. Here once a year the Mounties, helped by Indians. seine white fish and dry them on the racks... They serve as

for the many dogs needed to pull sleds in the win-

ter. They usually net 80.000 pounds “for the Yellowknife dogs alone. ; % ® '-8 ”

WHEN YOU FIRST fish for these mackinaws you (don’t enjoy it. They are caught trolling with spoons. Some folks: use heavy lines but the average test line is 24 pounds. I insist. ed on. using a 9-pound test,

® . Guides have to be bookkeep-

- from Edmonton

PAGE 9

»

PEASANT —Giuseppe Lucesic, of the Yugoslav zone in Trieste, was embarrased because he wasn't working.

I also used a very delicate fresh water reel. It stood up under three fish, the largest 23 pounds. Then all the |gears in the reel stripped.

ers as well as .boat handlers, naturalists and cooks. Every fish that is caught is weighed before being thrown away. No one Keeps any take-home fish

until the day before leaving. Then how much you keep depends on how you are for transportation, u ” v EVERY PERSON you meet here has a story. Alex Loutitt, my guide for one day, is 69 years old and has been in the Northwest for 30 or more years. He once drove a dog team to Edmonton and back for the

mail in the winter. Now in the winter he works on one of the unique tractor trains, a series of sleds pulled over frozen trails and then 100 miles across frozen Slave Lake. Alex serves as cook in the caboose, which is attached to the train: = = Alex regaled me with stories of the ice treks. He told particularly. of one tractor crew which broke through the ice and of course was lest but in fairly shallow water. It was 60 below. When they recovered the crew, the men were at their stations in actual driving position as though they had died instantly. They say that no ohe. ever drowns in the big lake. Tha water is 20 cold. folk die of shock at once. : oS

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