Wie ate kKIORN ANGLER: 
Wor.-25: 
NOVEMBER, 1895. 
No. I! 

AVON GAEL ROUT: O Raith PACIEIC: SLOPE. 
Bow yay iRs 
As one of the guild, I thought you 
might be interested in an examination 
I have just completed from the ang- 
ler’s standpoint of the trout of the 
Pacific coast ; those of the eastern slope 
of the Sierras and the Yellowstone re- 
gion. Arriving in San Francisco late 
in May, I went for a day’s fishing to 
Lake Pilicetis,a short distance from the 
city. There I founda number of men 
fishing from the shore with bait, and 
others in boats trolling with small 
spoons. In the evening I-went out but 
cast a fly in vain. As I wished to see 
the fish, I borrowed a spoon and landed 
perhaps half a dozen quarter pounders, 
and just before dark took about as 
many with a fly. They were the true 
rainbow trout ( Sa/mozirideus ). This lake, 
which forms part of the water system 
of the city, is well stocked, and, at 
times, is said to afford excellent sport. 
An adjacent lake, called Laganitis, has 
been supplied with black bass from 
the East, and good fishing for these, as 
well as trout is obtained there. It was 
not open to anglers at the time I visited 
the locality. 
My next venture was up at the head 
waters 6f the Sacramento in the Mc- 
Cloud river. Running up as far as 
Simms on the railway, I| fished an after- 
noon ina small brook, tributary to the 
Sacramento, with indifferent success. 
MOORE. 
Joining a friend in the evening, we went 
back to Smithson, where we camped 
for the night with a Welsh miner, whose 
name was Daw and his wife Margery, 
and after a bit of supper, fell into the 
arms of Mother Goose and Morpheus. 
After a really beautiful drive across 
the mountains, in the early morning, we 
reached Baird, on the McCloud, about 
11 o'clock. Baird is a government re- 
servation, held by Uncle Sam for a sal- 
mon hatchery, and ably presided over 
by the Hon. Livingston Stone, a most 
accomplished writer and scientific fish 
culturist, and a charming as well as cul- 
tured gentleman. He remembered your 
Editor well from correspondence with 
him, and asked for a description of 
his personality. I am quite convinced 
from my limited powers in this respect, 
that should he meet Senator Peffer or 
Marshall P. Wilder, he might mistake 
either of them for the Editor. The little 
community on the reservation, consist- 
ing of perhaps twenty persons, is a 
most happy and harmonious one. Most 
attentive and agreeable, they offer you 
every assistance toward the furtherance 
of sport, and the genial Seymour Bass, 
a high muck-a-muck among the salmon 
fry, will shoulder his creel, and rod in 
hand, will show you the best spots on 
the river side, and probably bag two 
fish to your one. Or should you, on an 
