Angling in the Siskiyous 245 



north up to Mount Beebe and beyond. To " at- 

 tain merit," and the upper reaches of Crystal 

 Creek, each of whose pools or turns tabulated 

 some old delight and anticipated some fresh one, 

 we pushed and dragged the canoe through little 

 brooks, literally through and over the tule, haul- 

 ing her by ropes and paddling, rowing, pushing, 

 until we came out into the little river made for 

 the delight givers who were there in force. 



This little stream with its splendid colors, its 

 reflection of the mountains and forests, its 

 masses of tule in white, green, and red, was so 

 full of compensations that if one did not catch 

 a fish he was more than repaid for the trip. I 

 sat one night in Pelican Lodge and listened to 

 a man denounce it, the trout, their lack of fight- 

 ing qualities, the smallness of the river; and as 

 he had come over three thousand miles and had 

 the " Dead Indian Trail " before him, I said 

 nothing, made no defence of Crystal Creek, nor 

 did any one else. Its lovers sat and looked at 

 him and thanked the gods that they were not 

 so hard to please. Doubtless there are anglers 

 who in good faith are disappointed here; but I 

 believe this to be due to the point of view, which 

 brings us back to the question, what constitutes 

 angling? 



There is no place in the world where man can 

 go day after day, catch all the fish he wants, 

 and keep it up indefinitely. The good places 



