WESTERN TROUT-FISHING 



fishing picnic, thirty miles by rail and four by road. 

 In the evening we found ourselves at our destination, 

 a temperance country hotel, where, by-the-by, some 

 of the best bottled beer in the State was obtainable, 

 kept by a naturalized German, and situated in the 

 rolling and wooded uplands of Northern Minnesota. 

 At supper, where a dish of fresh trout finally dis- 

 pelled my doubts as to their existence, the situation 

 was more fully explained. Close by the hotel were 

 at least a dozen natural springs of the clearest water 

 and of considerable united volume, permanently feed- 

 ing a stream that ran for some two miles in alternate 

 rapid and pool to the river below. At its head this 

 stream was dammed back into two miniature lakes, 

 where the trout were every season artificially reared, 

 and thence stocked the stream for its whole length 

 to where another dam and pool, with protected outlet, 

 prevented the escape of the fish to the river below. 



Our landlord was a practised fisherman, as I soon 

 found out, and, moreover, he thoroughly understood 

 the artificial rearing of trout. He was inclined to 

 look with contempt on the fishing capabilities of the 

 parties of town-bred Americans who periodically 

 visited him on fishing picnics. The gentle art of 

 fly-fishing is not generally practised or understood on 

 the banks of the Mississippi. Would his trout rise 

 to the fly ? Certainly they would. What size did they 

 run ? Up to three pounds ; average, half a pound. 

 What flies did they take ? Specimens were shown 

 me three-quarter-inch flies of a size and shape calcu- 

 lated to put down any well-brought-up Highland trout 

 for a week. I had a few Scotch flies with me, and 

 produced them. They were not thought much of, 

 and I held my peace. Evidently Minnesota trout had 



