Terms, Four Hollars a Year. 

 Ton Ueiim n Copy. 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, JANUARY 9, 1879. 



THE GEORGES' BANKS CODFISHERY. 



Smithsonian Institution, > 

 if Washington, D. C, Jan. 3, 1878 J 



Editob Forest and Stream : 



The Georges' banks are extensive shoals situated to the east 

 of Cape Ccd, of which they appear to be an extension, which 

 for forty years have been a favorite locality for the codfisher- 

 men of Cape Ann. About 130 vessels from Gloucester habit- 

 ually frequent this region, and the trips are not discontinued 

 even in the winter time. Many vessels venture there in Jan- 

 uary and February for the purpose of meeting the large 

 schools of winter fish which, at that time, come up on the 

 shoals to spawn. The Georges' fishery is the most hazardous 

 branch of codfisbing, and other ports which are not, like Glou- 

 cester, forearmed against loss of property and life by a com- 

 plete system of mutual insurance, are unable to take part in 

 it. One of the chief dangers is that of collision between the 

 schooners. The fish are very apt to congregate in certain lo- 

 calities and the fishing vessels then find it necessary to anchor 

 together. In case of a storm some of them are almost sure to 

 drag their anchors and to collide with their neighbors. When 

 two vessels come in contact destruction to both is almo t cer- 

 tain. Under ordinary circumstances it would be very easy for 

 the other vessels to get out of the way of those which are 

 drifting toward them, but this is impossible when, as is usu- 

 ally the case, the decks are covered with ice and the ropes 

 and sails are frozen stiff. The following poem, by Captain 

 Joseph W. Collins, for forty years skipper of a Gloucester 

 schooner, portrays in a vivid manner the incidents and the 

 dangers of a winter trip to Georges'. Captain Collins has 

 been very successful in preserving the peculiar dialect of the 

 Cape Ann fishermen, and the verses have the salty flavor of a 

 Northeastern gale : 



WINTER PISHING. 

 When winter's cold and cheerless storms 



Have covered eartli with snow, 

 Forth from our harbor's shelter 



Our little vessels go.. 

 Their snow-white sails and trlm-bullt halls 



Soon dot the distant main ; 

 Like seagulls no a-, but some, alas 1 



May not return again. 



For Georges' bank these venturous men 



Their little vessels steer ; 

 Then- courage falls not when the lead 



Warns them the shoals are near. 

 But sailing on, they anchor now, 



Their fortune for to try ; 

 The fleet are anchored all around, 



And some are very nigh. 



Like dancing stars the twinkling lights 



Do now appear to sight. 

 The watch is set ; the rest torn in ; 

 It is a pleasant night. 

 " Give me an early call, my boys," 



The skipper he doth say ; 

 •• The morning watch will note the time, 

 And my commands obey." 



The morning dawned ; the watch calls out : 



•' You'd best on deck repair; 



The day has broke ; the fish are here, 



For I have caught a pair." 

 On deck they hurry now, 



No time Is to be lost. 

 For moderate days are very rare 



Upon cur wintry coast. 



With varying fortune esch man tries 



His best to make a trip. 

 They bait their hooks, heave out their lines, 



And pull with steady grip. 

 Thus pass long days upon the sea. 



The trip is nearly done, 

 When o'er the ocean and the sky 



An ominous change has come. 



The murky cloudB and bright halo, 



Now circling round the sun, 

 And screaming sea birds, soaring high. 



Foretell a coming storm. 

 With practiced eye they note the signs, 



But still the risk they run ; 

 For lish they must have, while they bite, 



Whatever else may come. 



'TIs night again ; the scene has changed ; 



The wind's a howllog blaat. 

 The snow falls thick and blinding now, 



And ice is making fast. 

 All hands on deck now shivering stand, 



A good look out is kept, 

 While breaking waves, with giant force, 



Come sweeping o'er the deck. , 



Each man for safety grasps a rope, 



Or to the rigging clings, 

 While high above the tempest's roar 



The skipper's voice loud rlngo : 

 " A light ahead ! There's one adrift ! 



She's right athwart our bow. 

 Keep cool, my boys. The cable cut, 



Kun up the forsail now." 



One vigorous blow ; the cable parts, 



But cold has done its work. 

 The sail, with ice and snow congealed, 



Is Arm as any rock. 

 Nearer the other vessel comes ; 



No power on earth can save. 

 If once they strike, then all Is o'er— 



The sea will be their grave. 



With Urm set lips, and bated breath, 



They watch her through the gloom. 

 Thev've done their best ; the sail won't start, 



And each exoecta his doom. 

 But, see ! The other hoists a sail, 



And now she shoots ahead. 

 " Thank God ! We're saved," they all exclaim ; 



For even hope had fled. 



That danger past, 'twas not alone, 



There are others yet to meet ; 

 For right to leeward, not far off, 



Lay several of the fleet. 

 To the foresail, now, they all do spring, 



And work with eager haste, 

 To clear the sail; for momenta now 



Too precious are to waste. 



With heavy clubs they pound the ice ; 



Tne blows fall thick and fast. 

 The sail Is clear ; they hoist It up; 



She's under way at last. 

 They keep her off to clear the fleet, 



And ran awhile southeast ; 

 While day, now breaking through the gloom, 



Lights up the dreary waste. 



With joyful exclamation 



They hull the coming light. 

 And well they may, for unto them 



It's been a fearful night. 

 Bit others worse than they have fared, 



For some lie iu the deep- 

 Leaving widows, mothers, sisters— all 



In sorrow for to weep. 



Meanwhile the wind, which was northeast, 



Has haaled to nor' nor'west; 

 They heave her to ; all but the watch 



Turn in to get some rest. 

 Toward night the wind does moderate ; 



The snow has ceased tojfall; 

 The sea goes down, while, fore and aft,1 



Is heard the skipper's call :— 



" All hands, ahoy ! Our reefs shake out. 

 Our course once more we'll shape 

 For old Cape Ann, where anxious friends 



Our coming now await." 

 Once more in safety they arrive ; 

 Kind friends their hands do seize. 

 "Eight welcoaie home !" they all exclaim. 

 " How fared you in the breeze ?" 



I leave them now, while round the Are 



Each one relates the tale 

 To listening friends ; how wild it w»b 



Oa Georges in the gale. 

 The- fortunes thus of one I've traced, 



Endeavoring for to show 

 The hardships great those do endure 



Who winter Ashing go. 



And this, though sad, is not the worst, 



For these are safe on shore, 

 While many a noble vessel 



Has sunk to rise no more. 

 In vain they strove ; in vain they tried ; 



O'erwhelmed by many a wave, 

 They sink at last ; all, all are lost— 



The ocean Is their grave. 



That this Is true, let those attest 



That now have come to mourn 

 For husbands, sons and brothers dear, 



That nevermore return. 

 May God In boundless mercy 



Bind up each bleeding heart 

 That from their dearest loved ones 



Have thus been toroea to part. 



J. W.O 

 M Sea, on board Schooner Marion, Aug. 22, 1878. 



■ For Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 



aase and (jZariboo Ranting in 

 tgeiv $rtmmvii[h. 



A FAVORITE pastime with English officers stationed in 

 Canada is cariboo hunting, and in winter they endure 

 many hardships on the march and in camp in pursuit of this 

 noble game, frequently accompanied by their wives, who 

 brave the discomforts of winter in the woods with a fortitude 

 that may well be emulated by the ladies of the United States 

 should they seek to rival "chaste Diana" and gain renown 

 with gun or rod. In March 18G-, N. and I anived at the St. 

 Louis Hotel (Quebec) where we fared sumptuously, and ex- 

 perienced much kindness from the Russells. After consult- 

 ing "Bob '' and laying iu such supplies as were needed, we 

 decided to go to Madawaska in New Brunswick to hunt for 

 cariboo and moose. Traveling in Canada in winter is un- 

 certain business. At St. Jean Chrysostom, a scattered French 

 town on the Rivieri du Loup B. E , we were snowed up, 

 returning to Quebec the same night, having lost both time 

 and patience. The following day, however, being still, the 

 snow did not drift so badly, and we reached B. du Loup at 

 evening, thence a night ride of 80 miles in a box sleigh 

 brought U3 to Little Falls, Madawaska, where we found good 

 accommodations at "Baton's." Little Falls is on the St. 

 John's River, and boasts a hotel, stcre, and the remains of a 

 block fort. On inquiring at Emerson's store for a suitable 

 guide, we were advised to send for Albert, a French Canadian 

 hunter and trapper, living nine miles up the Green River, a 

 tributary of the St. Johns. The next day Albert presented 

 himself and we arranged with him to act as guide, furnish 

 sleds for our traps, etc., also to have his son Placide, a good 

 hunter, accompany us, each at 80 cents per day. After a 

 night in Albert's log cabin, which consisted of one room and a 

 loft, the said room containing at night four boys, three girls' 

 the old man and his wife, N. and myself, bed. loom, a cook 

 ing stove, two dogs, and fleas ad infinitum, we were up 

 and preparing for a tramp at an early hour. Our couch had 

 been the floor of the cabin, stretched with our feet to the 

 huge square stove. Our party left the clearing, taking the 

 course of the Green River, and traveling on the ice, thus 

 avoiding the deep snows of the forest. Albert .'tnd Placide 

 each drew a light sled, while JL and myself burdened our- 

 selves with snow-shoes, sticks and hunting pistols. At 

 noon we had nadje nine miles with comparative ease, keeping 

 on the river, except where open water, caused by the rapids* 

 obliged us to take to the woods and cross short carries. 

 Albert made frequent stops to inspect or gather up his ateel 

 traps set for beaver, otter, mink and sable. After a hasty 

 lunch of white sausage, made of suet and flour, brought from 

 home and a tin cup of hot tea, we renewed our march. Cariboo 

 tracks were abundant, showing that the game had taken the 

 river for the same reason as ourselves, viz., t) avoid the 

 deep snows in traveling, and signs were plenty, where they 

 had approached the banks to browse on the moss pendant 

 from the trees. Although we did not intend to hunt while on 

 the march, the temptation to follow a fresh track was irresist- 

 ible, and two of the party struck into the woods with the 

 dog, a small black and white cur, whose appearance denoted 

 anything but the hunter ; however, Diamond proved himself 

 a valuable assistant. The chase led N. and Placide about two 

 miles from the river to the mountain whence they returned 

 and joined us, without getting a shot or seeing the game. 

 The old man who had gone further up the river soon returned 

 and reported that having left the sled, with his gun strapped 

 on it, he was coming down to us, when two cariboo appeared 

 suddenly near him, and crossing the river disappeared in the 

 forest. Later in the afternoon, as we were again on the 

 march, being somewhat fatigued with the first tramp on snow- 

 shoes, I was taking it easy, expecting to reach the camp be- 

 fore dark, when I heard a shot far away up river, and soon, to 

 my great astonishment, a buck cariboo with splendid antlers, 

 appeared coming round a point, and directly toward me, 

 followed closely by the dog. . With an awkward paciug gait 

 he kept on until within about 300 yards, when seeing me he 

 stopped, and tossing his head, stood staling at what was 

 probably a newapparition to him. However, nothing daunted, 

 he advanced slowly toward me, evidently intending to run 

 the gauntlet in preference to taking to tlie deep snow of the 

 woods. Unfortunately, my only weapon at hand was a large- 

 sized cartridge pistol, with which I gave him two shots as he 

 passed down the river, which only seemed to quicken his pace 

 before he disappeared in the woods. Albert and Placide sooa 

 appeared coming down and seemed to take it as a good joke, 

 that the buck had surprised them, and run by so safely, 

 Placide had hurriedly seized his gun from the sled, and fired 

 at long range without effect. N., more lucky, had struck 

 the game with a ball from his long hunting pistol. While 



