FLY FISHING W THE TOSEMITE. 155 



The " trout-camp " became famous in the valley, and 

 paragraphs noticing the catch appeared in the Stockton 

 Independent, and even in the Sacramento Bee. Jack 

 had accomplished his purpose, and had not come to 

 the Yosemite in vain. 



Then the prairie schooner sailed away through the 

 mountains, Madge and his Eeverence driving by turns, 

 while the Judge held his ponderous foot on the brake. 

 Yang was mounted on a mustang, while the doctor 

 and Jack trudged through the dust. Frequent halts 

 were made, the Judgess taking her noon-day siesta, 

 the "three fishers," as she called Madge, his Rever- 

 ence and Jack, striking out for some neighboring 

 stream. Near the Tuolumne big trees his Reverence 

 took the largest trout of the trip— a four-pounder. On 

 the Tuolumne River the three met with fair success ; 

 but on the upper waters of the Stanislaus the sport 

 was better. They tarried by the stream winding 

 through that dead little mining town, Big Oak Flat. 

 The banks of the little river were honey-combed by 

 the old placer mining. The population of the Flat 

 wondered to see Madge cast a fly. Even the China- 

 men who were still washing for gold, would throw 

 aside their cradles and pans to gaze. 



An ancient beau of the town stranded there fifteen 

 years ago (such a man as Bret Harte would have glo- 

 ried in), became so enamored with the fair angler that 

 he would have followed in her wake ; but the fickle 

 object of his admiration eluded her admirer, and the 



