SALMON RIVERS. 



hooking and he the killing (he is not good even at that). Rintoul twits 

 him about it. I may, after this, in a spirit of accommodation, retain my 

 belief in his shooting " moorfowl on the Derbyshire Hills," but he must 

 let me off with the fish story, i. e., " seven Salmon in one afternoon in the 

 Findhorn." 



July 16th. — The pools have been terribly thrashed, particularly by the 

 Manchester man and his canoeman. The fish warden came up the river 

 to-day from somewhere below. The Indians have been spearing, and 

 some white rascals netting about Mid Landing and Chain of Rocks ; as 

 he gave them two days' notice of his coming he didn't catch them. He 

 and his coadjutor dined with me. He is what Shpeigel calls " a wordy 

 gentleman," and has no objection to something to drink. We had a good 

 laugh after dinner, looking through the bushes on the bluff at the Man- 

 chester man and Francis fishing in partnership at Rock Pool. He will 

 make a good report of his fishing when he gets home, for he scores them 

 all as his own. I have entirely lost my belief now in his story about 

 killing " moorfowl on the Derbyshire Hills," as well as that of the " seven 

 Salmon in the Findhorn." As his claret is out, or he don't show it, I 

 begin to doubt also whether his acquaintance was so much courted at 

 Savannah, or the Mayor of Augusta did ride him about in his carriage, and 

 the officials and magnates of other inland towns in Georgia give him 

 public receptions and balls. I have some misgivings too as to another 

 story: that is, whether he did, when he was once out on the plains, blow 

 up his India-rubber overcoat, and draw in the edges of its periphery, 

 shaping it like a punch-bowl, and so ferry across a swollen river General 

 Marcy and the hard money he was taking along to pay off an Indian 

 annuity. 



July 17th. — I bid farewell to this delightful camp — will I ever come 

 back again ? I have given Rintoul what few flies I have left, reserving 

 two or three that I may have use for while going down : he prefers yellow 

 bodies. Gave him " Barnwell's" book, " Game Fish of the North." 

 Sorry to part with him, he don't abuse the Yankees; too much good 

 manners to do it to their faces, at any rate. Under his rough exterior and 

 curtness of manner there is much intelligence and quiet humor, as well as 

 refinement of feeling. He has visited our Army of the Potomac, and 

 don't think much of Hooker. It is enjoyable to see him skip over the 

 rocks when fishing — sure of foot as an antelope. He and A. killed 45 

 fish in four days when they first got here ; now, from not resting the pools 



