126 BY- WA YS AND BIRD-NO TES. 



early in the spring. It was also the nesting- 

 place of a pair of cardinal-grosbeaks, whose 

 well-built home I discovered fitted neatly be- 

 tween three strong reeds. Soon in the morn- 

 ing the male would alight on the highest point 

 above the nest and whistle bravely, his plum 

 age shining like dull red fire 



There is no craft like a dug-out, that genu 

 ine Indian pirogue, for perfect gentleness and 

 sweetness of motion. You sit on a seat hewn 

 in the stern and ply a short, rather broad 

 paddle. The long, slender boat is all before 

 you, the prow well up, like a pug nose. The 

 round, smooth bottom slips along almost on top 

 of the water, as if running over ice. In such a 

 pirogue we would paddle around the island 

 and troll far bass, often catching wonderfully 

 game fellows of over four pounds in weight. 

 This silent gliding of the dug-out makes \\.par 

 excellence the angler's craft. There is no rat- 

 tling of rowlock and thole-pin, no oar-dip. 

 Your paddle goes in silently, it comes out with 

 not even the slightest ripple-break. The 

 bass and bream are utterly unaware of your 

 movements. 



Speaking of bream, as the Southerners call 

 the blue-perch, it is a royal fish. You find 

 it in the eddies and swirls of those Georgian 

 brooks and rivers, a voracious feeder, taking 

 the worm with all the vigor of a trout. You 

 use a rather heavy reed for a rod, rigged with 

 a small reel. The larvae of wasps and angle- 

 worms are the most killing baits. A bream 

 weighing ten ounces will give you a lively run, 

 testing your skill equal to a speckled trout of a 

 like size. It comes out of the water shining 

 with royal purple and yellowish waves of color. 



