Terms, Five Dollars a Year. | 

 Ten Cents a Copy. f 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, OCT. 2, 1873. 



| Volume I, Number 8. 

 103 Fulton Street. 



THE 



For Forest and Stream. 

 FASCINATION OF FISHING. 



COULD I lend the fascination 

 That this solitude enshrines, 

 In its rest and recreation, 



In the typographic mines, 

 You would leave the pen and book 

 And would sally with your hook 

 To this bright, enchanting brook, 

 Here to revel in these lines. 



Could you study from creation 



These grand books of nature's lore, 

 As she crowns with rare ovation 



Hill and dell and meadland o'er, 

 You would daily find some treasure — 

 Daily find some hidden pleasure- 

 That in an exhaustless measure 

 Onward reaches evermore. 



You would leave the lab'ratory, 



Where such miracles are wrought; 

 And the bears of modern story, 



That the bulls so well have fought- - 

 You would with complacent wishes 

 Leave to speculative dishes 

 While you feasted on the fishes 



That your lucky hand had caught. 



There's a mighty charm in fishing, 

 Though your cheek should change to dun, 



But much like the charm of wishing, 

 'Tis in catching lurks the fun . 



One forgets the sumptuous dishes, 



As one does the crowned wishes, 



Hence, in fishing more than fishes 

 Is the fascination won. 

 Sbptbjibbb 10th, 1873. Mabtha Ewing. 



^awn the liotomzc. 



NO. II.— THE MARYLANDER AND HIS 

 CANOE. 



LOWER Maryland has never recovered from the dis- 

 asters of the late civil war. This is in some mea- 

 sure due to the people themselves, but in large part 

 to the scarcity of labor. During the war the negroes 

 in the counties bordering on the Potomac were swept into 

 the army. When they did not leave their masters volun- 

 tarily force, was used. Recruiting parties were sent into 

 the interior by order of Major General Benjamin F. Butler, 

 and the negroes were marched in gangs to Piney Point or 

 Point Lookout, from whence they were shipped to Fortress 

 Monroe. The "old families" were thus left in sad plight. 

 Ladies who had never combed their own hair, or tied their 

 own shoes, found themselves confronted by a formidable 

 array of household duties. There were fires to be made 

 and food prepared ere hunger could be satisfied. The men 

 of the household, who had never known more arduous toil 

 than riding at a tournament, or chasing the fox 'cross coun- 

 try, were left with large farms on their hands— the plough 

 standing in the furrow, the yards and barns full of valu- 

 able stock. It is perhaps hardly to be wondered at that 

 everything was allowed to go to ruin and decay; that fields 

 were left unlilled, fences unrepaired, and buildings un- 

 painted. The transition from ease and affluence to com- 

 parative poverty was so sudden that few have recovered 

 from the shock. The wonder is, how so many manage to 

 live at all on the wreck of their ante helium grandeur. Few 

 of the negroes ever returned to their former homes. They 

 met their death in the crater before Petersburg, perished 

 of disease, or live in vagabondage in distant States. 



The staple crops of this section are tobacco and wheat. 

 All vegetables thrive, and peaches, pears, apples, nectar- 

 ines, grapes, melons, and plums come to full perfection. 

 The Washington and Baltimore markets are readily reached 

 by steamers, which penetrate every nook and inlet; and 

 yet, with all these advantages, there is very little prosperity 

 among the white population. People live — and they can- 

 not well help it, with an abundance of game, fish, and oys- 



ters at their disposal, but their dwellings grow more and 

 more dilapidated every year, and their pockets emptier. It 

 is hard to prescribe a remedy for this state of affairs. 

 Skilled labor, thrift, and energy are potent in their way, 

 but capital is needed as well to raise Lower Maryland from 

 its slough of despond. 



St. George's Island, mentioned in a former article, has a 

 population of some forty families. The men are engaged 

 in the fisheries and as pilots on the river. The island is 

 some three miles in length, is nearly level, and is covered 

 to a considerable extent by dense groves of pine. Fruit 

 thrives here, but, save in one instance, no care is bestowed 

 on its cultivation. The fishermen and pilots usually culti- 

 vate a little garden patch, however, and sometimes a field 

 of corn. You will see pigs running at large, but rarely a 

 cow, and never a horse, A canoe is to these islanders a 

 horse and carriage combined. It takes the place of the 

 volante of Havana and the gondola of Venice, and is more 

 than either, for it is not only a conveyance, but a means of 

 livelihood to its owner. 



During the fall and winter months the oyster trade fur- 

 nishes employment to all who are able to handle the tongs, 

 sail a canoe, or man a pungy. The canoes must be licensed, 

 under the laws of Maryland, and have their number painted 

 on the bow. They set sail in the morning for the oyster 

 beds, and, having obtained a load, run alongside a pungy 

 (a class of schooners in use on the Potomac and Chesapeake 

 Bay) and dispose of them. The price paid is ten to fifteen 

 cents a bushel, and the tong-men are said to make from 

 four to six dollars per day. Indeed, a colored man told me 

 he saved $200 out of his winter's earnings, and it is usual, 

 I believe, to lay by enough to keep a family in provisions 

 during the summer months. When the oyster season is 

 over the canoes are hauled up and painted, the garden 

 patch planted, and then the canoes are launched again, and 

 gill-nets and fish lines are brought into use. These furnish 

 a somewhat precarious living, but the fishing parties which 

 come down the river pay handsomely for the services of a 

 man and a canoe, and I have known the sheepshead fisher- 

 men to average from four to six dollars per week. For 

 small fish, they received last summer six cents per pound. 

 Another source of profit is catching crabs for market, but 

 the crabs were so small and scarce this year in the vicinity 

 of Piney Point that they were left to the tender mercies of 

 the amateur fishermen. Let me here point out a mistake 

 some make in cooking this shell fish. They should not be 

 boiled like potatoes, but placed in a pot without water, 

 with salt and pepper thrown over them, their own moisture 

 being all that is required. They are still better when baked 

 or roasted on a hot stove or in an oven. 



To say that fifty cents will go as far at these unfashion- 

 able resorts down the Potomac as a five dollar bill at the 

 fashionable watering places, is hardly an exaggeration. 

 One morning, wishing to go fishing, I engaged two boys to 

 catch soft crabs for bait. They explored the shore for 

 some distance with poor success, having found but three 

 or four. However, I was bent on trying the fish that 

 morning, and so took what they had, telling them to 

 catch more, if possible, and bring them to the store, when 

 I would pay for all. En passant, I didn't catch a fish that 

 day. About dusk the boys put in an appearance at the 

 store with soft crabs enough to complete a dozen, the result 

 of a good half day's work. Asking their price for the 

 bait, I was astonished when they replied, "Ten cents." 

 That was too absurd; so I said I can't pay that, but if you 

 will take twenty-five cents here it is. Hearing a part of the 

 conversation only, Mr. Marshall, who was writing at his 

 desk, turned and denounced the boys for asking the exhor- 

 bitant price of twenty-five cents for a dozen bait crabs. 

 The youngsters looked quite shamefaced for a moment, 

 but stammered out that they had only asked ten cents. On 

 another occasion I was beating up the St. George's in a 

 canoe against a strong head wind, when my companion's hat 

 blew overboard. As it was only a common straw — value, 

 thirty cents — and we were a mile from home, and dinner 

 nearly ready, we concluded to let it go. Soon after, how- 

 ever, we met a canoe, with a young fellow at the paddle, 



bowling islandward and homeward with a fair wind. We 

 hailed him, and told him if he would get the hat and bring 

 it to the store we would give him ten cents. Without a 

 moment's hesitation he started after it. By the time he 

 had secured it he had a good mile and a half to sail against 

 half a gale of wind. But he restored the truant head-gear 

 to its owner, and seemed well satisfied with the promised 

 reward. It is sad to think that these unsophisticated na- 

 tures must become contaminated in course of time. Even 

 a solitary bloated bondholder would entail irreparable evil 

 upon these peaceful havens of respectable impecuniosity — 

 the unfashionable summer resorts down the Potomac. 



It is high time I gave a full, true, and particular descrip- 

 tion of the canoe peculiar to the Maryland and Virginia 

 waters. Without the canoe, summer life on the Potomac 

 would be unendurable. This indispensable craft is a dug- 

 out, but bears about the same relation to a dug-out of the 

 South that a clipper ship does to a mud scow. The dug- 

 out is made from a single log, the canoe from two, three, 

 four and upwards. The majority of those in use on the 

 Maryland shore of the Potomac are made of two logs. No 

 models or moulds are used in building them. The logs are 

 squared and fastened together, and then shaped out by the 

 eye. The canoe is made sharp at each end, but with finer 

 lines at the stern than at the bow. When the outside is 

 shaped the two halves are dug out separately, and afterward 

 put together with hard wood trenails. The sides and bot- 

 tom vary in thickness, in different canoes, from three to 

 six inches. The keel, stem, and stern post are now put on, 

 and the washboards and seats fitted. Whether intended 

 for one sail or two, the foremast is always stepped in the 

 extreme bow, and the mast-hole in the seat is made large 

 enough to allow of considerable play fore and aft. When 

 on the wind a wedge is put in before the mast to give it 

 rake, but when before the wind the mast is raised and the 

 wedge inserted behind it. The mast is just long enough to 

 rest upon the seats inside the washboards when unshipped. 

 A leg of mutton sail is used, rarely made to hoist, but ^at- 

 tached to the mast by cord or canvas bands, and set with a 

 sprit. When two sails are used the mainsail is rigged in 

 precisely the same way, but is very much smaller than the 

 foresail. If a jib is carried the bowsprit is made of a tough 

 bit of oak, mortised to fit over the stem, and held in posi- 

 tion by a peg or nail. No stay is used, the jib being at- 

 tached to the bowsprit, and the halliards passing through 

 an eye or small block strapped to the foremast. The jib 

 sheets trim aft through holes in the knees that support the 

 washboards. Some of the canoes have centre boards, and 

 others are without; some have rudders, and others are 

 without. But whether a canoe has a rudder or not the 

 great dependence is on the paddle— material, oak; regula- 

 tion length, eight feet ; in shape, a cross between an Indian 

 paddle and an oar. The blade, gradually narrowing, ex- 

 tends fully two-thirds the length, and its extreme width 

 does not exceed that of the oar in ordinary use. Any one 

 who has sailed a canoe with both the rudder and paddle 

 will find that this kind of craft can only be successfully 

 navigated with the latter implement. The canoe without, 

 a jib, and the majority do not carry that sail, has a ten- 

 dency to keep in the wind, which the rudder is often pow- 

 erless to counteract* But with a paddle over the side you 

 can give a few quick strokes, or a succession of slow ones, 

 which will keep the stern to windward and prevent leeway. 

 Then, in going about, with a rudder the chances are that 

 you will miss stays, and before you know it the canoe will 

 be under stern way. With a paddle you have only to loose 

 your hold and let her come up in the wind, and then, shift- 

 ing the paddle by an easy motion of the wrist to the other 

 side of the stern post, a few sharp strokes will cause your 

 sails to fill, and away you go. Still, it requires muscle to 

 handle the paddle when beating to windward, with half a 

 gale blowing, and with the wind fair or free, provided the 

 water is smooth, the rudder answers every purpose. But 

 in rough water — and it is sometimes very rough on the Po- 

 tomac, so rough, in fact, as to compel good sized schooners 

 to seek a harbor— the rudder is perfectly useless, as it is 

 half the time in the air, while the paddle may always be 



