FOREST AND STREAM. 



tion and .extreme cold. At another time we listened to rem- 

 iniscences of the camp, and stirring scenes of chase after 

 moose and bear. 



As the sun sank in the western ocean, the rocky coast 

 and lofty mountains blended in one indistinct outline. We 

 still lingered on the deck. It was a glorious night, and we 

 sat long, watching the many-hued shafts of the northern 

 lights, radiating from the central orb, shoot in strange fan- 

 tastic columns across the sky, now brightly flashing, illu- 

 minating the whole arch of heaven, now gradually dying 

 away in faintest coloring, only to be again succeeded by 

 fresh tinted rays. The moon had risen high in the heaven? 

 — " gaudentque cadentia sidera somnos" — before we betook 

 ourselves to rest. Lieut, R. Hutchinson Poe, R. 1ST. 



[To be Continued.] 



OFF THE COAST OF AFRICA. 



Dear, Mr. Editor, : — 



Did you ever go fishing with a shot gun ? 



This is no conundrum for you to simply "give up," and 

 expect a " sell" to reveal itself in the answer, for I lime, and 

 have lugged home such noble specimens of the finny tribe 

 as seldom fall to the lot of wandering fishermen. Don't 

 puzzle your brains now by traversing in your memory the 

 grand old sylvan temples of the Aclirondacks, nor plunge 

 still deeper into the wilder virgin forests of the "Schoodic 

 Regions" in search of a locality where such perversion of 

 the piscatorial art could be practiced with success. Neither 

 the famed Long Island trout ponds nor the fishing grounds 

 and banks along our sea-coast would furnish a favorable re- 

 sponse to such an unusual invocation. 



On a wilder, rugged, barren shore, where great masses of 

 naked, rocky hills, bearing naught but an ever-shifting bur- 

 then of flying sand, loom up, grey, arid and hot ; where the 

 fierce sun of the tropics sends day after day from a cloud- 

 less sky its scorching beams, to burn, wither and destroy 

 utterly all trace of life ; where man dwells not, nor beasts 

 sojourn ; there, on the land where all is wrapt in the solemn 

 silence of an African desert, Nature still maintains a bal- 

 ance, and, driven from the inhospitable shore, animal life 

 seeks the all-embracing ocean, and the blue waters beating 

 on the rugged beach fairly teem with animation. Fish of 

 all sorts, sizes and descriptions abound, from the mammoth 

 whale down through all grades of size to the tiny sardines, 

 •flying in countless thousands from the pursuit of voracious 

 enemies. Away up in a sheltered corner of this beautiful 

 bay extends for a mile a pure white sandy beach, which 

 preserves for rods its gentle slope. There our Kroo-boys 

 haul the seine. No rocks nor coral reef to tear the yielding 

 meshes, but a smooth, sloping floor, soft and pleasant to 

 their bare feet as they wade about or stand each like an 

 ebony Hercules. With the strength of Titans they make 

 sport of the heavy haul as the cork beacons come, one after 

 another, closing in and narrowing down that as yet unex- 

 plored centre — centre of all our thoughts, hopes and wishes. 



With shouts and songs and wild and savage dances of joy 

 and excitement, the net comes slowly in, and fathom after 

 fathom is piled upon the beach. Then the huge bag, with 

 its glistening, quivering, springing mass, comes surging into 

 view. Like a roll of moving quicksilver seems the glimpse 

 we catch of the contents of our trap. Until this supreme 

 moment "Black Will" and "Tom Limerick" have preserved 

 their dignity. They are "Head Kroomen," and get a dol- 

 lar each more, monthly, than the others. They feel to the 

 utmost the pride and dignity of rank, with more wages, 

 more brains, more strength, more wives than all the rest to- 

 gether, and with more gay silk handkerchiefs treasured up 

 in their dirty bags since our visit to St. Helena, Each hand- 

 kerchief is destined, without transformation, to furnish a 

 complete suit of clothes to one of said wives. They have 

 so far played the officer and directed ; now they spring to it 

 with a will and encouraging shouts, and the great muscles 

 of their chests and arms swell into cordage in alto-relief as 

 they add in their powerful assistance. 



And so into the shoal water comes the silvery mass, strug- 

 gling helplessly, and our haul is successful. 



But look out ! Not quite so sure a thing after all. A sudden, 

 violent threshing and vigorous beating of the water into 

 foam — a quick, momentary dispersion of the Kroomen with 

 shrieks, half in terror, half in fun, and in the deeper part of 

 the net, where he had lagged sullenly back till the last, is 

 seen a great, dark monster, with horrid, greenish eyes and 

 yawning jaws, snapping viciously at the cordage and plung- 

 ing furiously in his frantic endeavors to escape. Quickly 

 as they scatter, the Kroos gather again and surround the en- 

 tangled victim. Armed with oars, stretchers and boat- 

 hooks they rain blows upon the writhing form, taking good 

 care though to spring nimbly back whenever in the skurry 

 the fighting end of the shark comes into an unpleasant 

 proximity ; blows which would stun an ox, but which upon 

 the monster fish have but a stimulating effect. And see ! 

 the net is giving way. Cut, bitten, or broken, an ugly, omi- 

 nous rent is seen. Should the shark but perceive it he 

 WOuId soon be at liberty. 



But now "Black Will" advances. Taller by half a head 

 than the tallest, with thews and muscles of a demi-god, he 

 stands proudly conscious of his skill and power. With a 

 superb gesture of contempt he motions the noisy rabble to 

 fall back. They obey, and, like in the bull ring, when the 

 matador assumes his part, the contest is left to these two 

 only. For a moment the tired shark lies quiet, and with his 

 devilish eye watches his new adversary. "Will," too, is 

 quiet for the moment, With his yellow, bloodshot eye he 

 searches sharply for* the vulnerable point. His thick lips, 



drawn spasmodically apart, show his great white teeth, filed 

 to saw-like points ; his wide nostrils twitch with excite- 

 ment; his brawny hand clutches a short, sharp-pointed 

 knife, uplifted for a blow. Suddenly, with a whoop that 

 hand is dropped. With a great convulsive quiver the huge 

 fish straightens out and is quiet, and the well-directed blade 

 is buried in his neck, where, between the vertebrae, there is 

 one weak point that Will's unerring thrust lias reached. 



Here and there a sudden dense blackness comes clouding 

 up from the bottom, and a space of yards square becomes a 

 pool of ink, into which and from which the frightened fishes 

 enter and emerge and hide themselves from our sight. A 

 huge "Sepia," or cuttle-fish, has been dragged from its lair, 

 and he, too, raises in his defence his only weapon. 



But shark and cuttle-fish are thrown out, and our [trey 

 landed upon the sand. No great variety, after all. A few 

 flounders and sand eels are sprinkled among the mass, but 

 mullets predominate, and it is well that the}'- can be cap- 

 tured in this way, for they will not take the hook, and are 

 most delicious for the table. We do not count or weigh our 

 catch, for there is beyond all question enough and to spare. 

 The launch and cutters are loaded to their thwarts, and the 

 jolly Kroomen, chanting and singing their wild, native 

 songs, pull slowly off. A big fish chowder, with "yams" 

 and "tarrow" in lieu of potatoes, awaits two hundred men 

 to-morrow. 



But I don't see that I have said much about the shot gun 

 as yet. Patience, old friend ! you must let me have my own 

 way, and I'll promise it shall come in, in due time. We'll 

 hang the seine to dry, and jumping into the "dingy" pull 

 seaward a short half mile toward that rocky point, where 

 the sterile mountain bathes its stony foot in the sea, Stop 

 when you can see the bottom clearly, and loAver your an- 

 chor. It is a few feet, you think, but fathom after fathom 

 pays out, and sixty feet of clear, transparent fluid is beneath 

 you as you peer through the liquid depths into a vast aqua- 

 rium. Now learn the secrets that Nature generally conceals 

 from our sight. Beds of living coral, with green and yel- 

 low and white blending one into the other ; branches reach- 

 ing upward like stunted oaks, and bearing strange and un- 

 familiar foliage ; deep crevices, where the greenish water 

 grows blue and bluer till, with its density, the range of 

 vision is arrested ; arches and tunnels and labyrinthine 

 paths, through which slowly glide hither and thither, or 

 like meteors dart, strange forms — myriads of fish, of all 

 sizes and descriptions, pursuing the natural tenor of their 

 lives, unscared by the presence of the boat floating so far 

 above their backs — unconscious of their danger because as 

 yet untaught. Huge "gropers" (garroupas), snappers, sheeps- 

 heads, and other rockfish, as yet unnamed, are lying quietly 

 upon the bottom, with but their moving gills, and now and 

 then a slight flirt of a fin, to betray that they live. Little 

 coral fish, crimson and blue and scarlet, flash in and out 

 among the crevices, high up above their mighty enemies, or 

 gathered in groups like gorgeous boquets. 



Bait your hook, carelessly as you choose, with a bit of fat 

 pork, and lower it gently to their level. You see so plainly 

 the clumsiness of your gear — the great hook, the wire snell, 

 the coarse cod line — that, if a trout worshipper, you fear 

 for the result. But in an instant all is changed. Where 

 quiet was, confusion reigns, and from all directions dart 

 swift-motioned forms. The little coral fish, frightened, dis- 

 appear in their crannies. Your hook vanishes, and a sharp, 

 heavjr tug proclaims a strike. As the victim feels the sting 

 of the steel he darts off from the scrambling crowd, and 

 you can see your work before you. The others show an in- 

 stinctive knowledge that there is something wrong, and 

 dash wildly to and fro. Large fish rush at the stricken one 

 and endeavor to tear him from your hook. Round in 

 quickly, for your tackle is stout, and you have no time for 

 playing. Sharp coral edges. will fray your line, or' sharks 

 rob you of your prize if you delay. Clap on boys, and 

 haul ! up with him,- hand over hand ! With a heavy surge 

 over the gunwale a great red snapper, full forty pounds in 

 weight, lies gasping and struggling at your feet, 



Another bait, a few moments to recover breath, another 

 contest for supremacy, and soon till sunset comes, and 

 sheer fatigue moderates your excitement. Then, with wet 

 legs, frayed clothing and torn hands you realize that hard 

 play can be identical with hard work. 



I think I'd better get to "shooting fish" though, very 

 soon, or my letter will be like Artemus' lecture on the 

 "Babes in the Woods," where he introduced every imagin- 

 able subject except the babe's. It didn't amount to much, 

 after all ; and in reality, as in this letter, I never bothered 

 with the gun till I had caught my fill with the line. But 

 sometimes at low tide the fish were not on their usual bot- 

 toms, and the hook and line gave but poor results. Then 

 we would station ourselves outside the line of breakers, 

 where, from the rocky points extended great tables of flat 

 reef, the surface of which was broken up and had many 

 hollows and pools, left filled by the receding tide. In these 

 comparatively safe retreats multitudes of small fish were 

 gathered. The big fish knew it, and all along the edge they 

 lay in wait. Now and then a little higher wave would for 

 a few instants flood the rocky table, and on its crest the 

 great gropers and snappers would rush headlong in, and if, 

 perchance, they struck a pool, remain monarch and eagerly 

 devour its inmates. As often, though, they missed their 

 aim, and the receding wave left them flapping and kicking 

 about on the rocks. Then was our time— a quick snap shot, 

 and the reflux wave bore to our grasp such monsters in size 

 as often puzzled us to secure. 



Com. L. A. Beardslee, U. S. N. 



GUY FAWKES AND HIS FATHER. 



BY the kindness of Mr. Bartlett, I have had the good 

 fortune to be present on the occasion when the little 

 Hippopotamus, Guy Fawkes— who is now eight months 

 old— was introduced to his disagreeable old father, Obesh, 

 a resident in the gardens for twenty-three years. Obesh 

 was quietly munching his breakfast of grass in the outside 

 den, when at a given" signal the portcullis of the mother's 

 den was gradually raised, and the two heads appeared gaz- 

 ing out with a most comical expression. Seeing his wife, 

 the old man left off munching his grass, grinned a ghastly 

 grin, and he loudly trumpeted "Umph," "Umph," "Umph." 



Little Guy Fawkes then came forward from behind his 

 mother, with the action and stiffness of a pointer when he 

 has discovered a covey of birds ; gradually and slowly he 

 went up to his father, and their outstretched noses were 

 just touching, when the old woman sounded the signal for 

 war, and rushing .past the young one, fairly challenged her 

 lord and master to single combat. He instantly retreated a 

 step or two, and his wife began to pretend to munch at 

 the grass, keeping her eyes always fixed spitefully upon him. 



Just at this moment the sun shone out, and I was enabled 

 to see most distinctly the remarkable phenomenon of the 

 " blood-sweet" of these gigantic animals when excited. 



The usual pale chocolate color of the skin of the hus- 

 band and wife became densely covered with spots mat 

 looked like thin red gum, and when the male turned his 

 head I could see that these spots were globular ; they glistened 

 like de\v on a cabbage, and stood high upon the skin like 

 blood-stained diamonds. I managed subsequently to wipe 

 oil' one of these globules, and it stained my note-book quite 

 red. After gazing at each other for about half a minute, 

 old Dil, for that is the female's name, made a savage rush at 

 her husband, and simultaneously both animals reared right 

 up on their hind legs, like bulldogs fighting. They gaped 

 wide their gigantic mouths, and bit and struck and lunged 

 at each other savagely, while the grass fell out of their great 

 coal-scuttle mouths on to the battle-field. The crash of 

 their tusks coming together was truly Homeric, and remind- 

 ed me of the rattle and smashing clash — only exaggerated — 

 when the Windsor park red-deer charge and fight with their 

 horns. For a second or two these two gigantic animals 

 closed together and swayed to and fro like Cornish wrestlers. 

 This scene of the Hippoptami fighting was grand in the ex- 

 treme, and would form a good subject for an Oxford prize 

 poem or the pencil of Landseer. ' When they settled on 

 their four legs again the old woman followed up her advan- 

 tage by giving her husband a tremendous push " well hit " 

 with her head, and while the cowardly old fellow sneaked 

 backwards into his pond, his wife trumpeted a triumphant 

 signal of victory from the bank. All this time little Guy 

 kept w^ell in rear of his mother, occasionally peeping round 

 her sides to see the rare and extraordinary phenomenon of 

 a husband and wife having a row. Dil then slowly, .and in 

 a Shah-like manner, w r alked down the steps into the water, 

 and hunted the old man about until she drove him up into 

 a corner, she then mounted sentry over him. The young 

 one then mounted on to his mother's back, and gazed with 

 filial respect, not unmingled with impudence, at his father. 

 At the least movement on his governor's side, he sank 

 down into the water as quiet as an otter, without making 

 the slightest ripple or sending up a bubble of air, and 

 shortly re-appeared with his pretty little head, erect ears, 

 and bright eyes, and looking like a gigantic frog. During 

 his subaqueous excursion the little rascal had probably gone 

 up to and touched his father, for the old fellow gave a sud- 

 den plunge and jump as if he had been touched up from 

 underneath by something alive. Thus the three remained 

 for about hall'-an-hour, grunting and staring at each other. 

 Obesh made one attempt to get out of his corner and re- 

 treat into his den, but his artful old Missis was two quick 

 for him, cut off his retreat and drove him back. The little 

 one, I observed, always kept the far side of his mother, in 

 case his father should turn rusty again. In "about three-quar- 

 ters of an hour the row was all over, and instead of angry 

 trumpetings, the signals gradually assumed a more amicable 

 tone, and it was evident that the two Behemoths were get- 

 ting into good temper. At last the female swam nearer to 

 her husband, and distending her great nostrils to the utmost, 

 uttered a kind of hiss, not the least like a war cry. When 

 the keeper heard this he said, " They are all right now, 

 Sir ; they'll not fight any more. See, the old man's begin- 

 ning to smile, and he has uncocked his ears and left off 

 staring." The faithful keeper was quite right, for all three 

 Hippos at once became friends, and the domestic row was 

 over. 



I understand that on the previous day, when these three 

 beauties were first put together, that little Guy Fawkes im- 

 mediately went up to his governor, and cheeked him in the 

 most insolent manner ; he bristled up, grunted at him, 

 showed his teeth, and actually challenged his father to fight. 

 The mother then charged the old father, scratched his face, 

 and pushed him right bang all of a lump into the water. 

 The little one followed up directly, swam under his father's 

 legs, and actually bit at and pulled the paternal tail. On 

 the second occasion the youngster behaved very differently ; 

 it was quite evident that somehow or other his mother had 

 cautioned him and given him orders to keep in the rear 

 while she fought her old man. On this occasion Obesh 

 was terribly alarmed, although his wife frightened more 

 than hurt him. She so alarmed him that a new discovery 

 w r as made by Mr. Bartlett, After the row was over the 

 cowardly old Obesh changed color. His mulatto-colored 

 skin got gradually wdiiter and wmiter, and the lower part of 

 his head and sides became of a creamy-white tint, and the 

 poor old fellow looked ' ' as white as a ghost. " It was some 

 hours before he came to his proper color again. When 

 his wife gave him a hiding on the second day Obesh again 

 turned somewhat white, making his blood-spots stand out 

 with unusual clearness. Now that this family scrimmage 

 is over, we trust that for the future they wall enjoy domestic 

 felicity. 



By the way, the controversy has not yet been decided 

 whether the present name " Hip-po-po-ta-mus " (which 

 means a horse-river, not a river-horse), shall not be recast 

 into Potamippus, and the little Guy Fawkes received a new 

 appellation — the diminutive of the original word — viz., 

 "Hippopo-tamidion," or "Potamippodion." This, as your 

 correspondent Mr. E. K. Karslake remarks, "would be bar- 

 barous." I should like to hear a stammerer tackle it. — Frank 

 Btjckland, in Land and Water. 



A Cincinnati editor, who has indulged in a heavy life in- 

 surance, is said to be followed, whenever he goes a fishing, 

 by several life insurance companies, affectionately bearing 

 life-preservers and sun umbrellas. 



