BIRCH BROWSINGS 161 
fish are quite black, but in the lakes they are of a 
lustre and brilliancy impossible to describe. 
These waters have been much visited of late years 
by fishing parties, and the name of Beaver Kill is 
now a potent word among New York sportsmen. 
One lake, in the wilds of Callikoon, abounds in 
a peculiar species of white sucker, which is of excel- 
lent quality. It is taken only in spring, during 
the spawning season, at the time “when the leaves , 
are as big as a chipmunk’s ears.” The fish run up ; 
the small streams and inlets, beginning at nightfall, ; 
and continuing till the channel is literally packed 
with them, and every inch of space is occupied. | 
The fishermen pounce upon them at such times, and 
scoop them up by the bushel, usually wading right: 
into the living mass and landing the fish with their 
hands. A small party will often secure in this 
manner a wagon load of fish. Certain conditions of 
the weather, as a warm south or southwest wind, 
are considered most favorable for the fish to run. 
Though familiar all my life with the outskirts of 
this region, I have only twice dipped into its wilder 
portions. Once in 1860 a friend and myself traced 
the Beaver Kill to its source, and encamped by 
Balsam Lake. A cold and protracted rainstorm 
coming on, we were obliged to leave the woods 
before we were ready. Neither of us will soon for- 
get that tramp by an unknown route over the moun- 
tains, incumbered as we were with a hundred and 
one superfluities which we had foolishly brought 
along to solace ourselves with in the woods; nor 
