[Entered According to Act of Congress, In the Tear 18T9, by the Forest & Stream Publishing Company, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington;] 



?our Dollars a Year ) 

 n Term, a Copy. }- 



is, 82« 3 month*, SI. J 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 1879 



ADRIFT IN A SOUTH EASTER. 



,/,;Bv Captatx Joseph W. Colmns of the Sch;oosek " Marion. " 



IN the winter of 1872, if I remember correctly, Willoughby 

 Goodwin and Ids two companions, three of the crew of the 

 schooner David M. Milton, of Gloucester, went adrift in a south- 

 east gale in a dory on the weBtem bank. With great diffi- 

 culty they kept the boat from swamping, for the seas frequently 

 made a clean breach over her. Goodwin made a drag (pronounced 

 •drug" by fishermen) of a halibut, by slinging him by the head 

 and tail. This he throw overboard, and having secured it by aline 

 to the bow of the dory, it materially assisted them to keep her 

 head to the sea and wind. One man kept the oars out to hold her 

 Bteady, while the two others bailed out the water that was con- 

 stantly coming into her. The following morning, the wind hav- 

 ing moderated, thoy kept her off before the sea and wind. Etch 

 took a spell at the oars to remove the chill and to warm the al- 

 most frozen blood in their veins. Fortunately they made and got 

 aboard of the Yaruna, Captain Williams, just before the wind 

 struck in a heavy uor'west squall. On the Hilton's return home 

 their loss was published in the Cape Ann Advertiser, and as they 

 arrived a few days later they had the singular experience of read- 

 their own obituary. The following lines I composed at sea while 

 running for the Grand Bank, in the gale of January 26. I claim 

 no merit for them, other than that they are facte, and for dialect 

 are pecularly correct. The lines are as near word for word, just 

 as the stery was told to me by Goodwin, as the versification 

 would allow ■ 



" Well, Cap., that was the toughest scrape 

 That ever happened me, 

 Since first I left my childhood's home 

 To sail upon the sea. 

 " Ton Know 'twas in ths winter time ; 

 On weBtem bank we lay, 

 With Callahan in the Baton : 

 I'll ne'er forget the day. 



" Twas smurry in the morning, 

 But by the dawning light 

 We all went out to haul our gear, 

 And then returned all right. 



" ' Bail up, and set again, boya,' 

 The skipper then did Bay ; 

 ' There's halibut here, and we must try 

 To haul again to-day.' 



" When we west out the last time, 

 Tuant hardly at to go, 

 With wind southeast, aud breezing up, 

 And every sign of snow. 



" Our trawl was dead to leewaid, 

 And I told the skipper bo : 

 I thought our chances rather slim 

 If it came on to blow. 



" The skipper said, ' Go, three of you, 

 And it worst comes to worst, 

 I'll pay a buoy down astern, 

 So jou shall not be '.ost.' 



When we got dODe our hauling, 



The snow was falling thick ; 

 'Twas dark and blowing near a gale 



I tell you we felt sick. 



But we out oars, and pulled, Cap. 

 And we'd have reached her too ; 

 But, no! just as we saw the light. 

 We broke our oar In two. 



" We then let go an anchor, 

 And tried to ride It out ; 

 The buoy line soon parted 

 (You know they are not stout). 



The only chance we had tot life 



Was heading wind and sea ; 

 For if she lay side to it, 



Capsized she soon would be. 



" So I rigged a drug of a halibut, 

 And threw him in the sea. 

 My mates,— one held her with the oars, 

 The other kept her free. 



" Scared, Cap. ? I 'spect we was 

 Tae le&stBSt bit afraid ; 

 While that 'southeaster' lasted, 

 There wa'nt a great deal said. 



" Dl t the seas break In our dory ? 

 They swept her fore and aft; 

 By bailing with our sou-westers, 

 We saved our little craft. 



" We rode it out till dawning ; 

 But, 'twas a hard, hard fight 

 For lite, in that small dory, 

 That wild and stormy night. 



" Then hungry, wet and freezing, 

 When day dispelled the night, 

 We were alone upon the sea, 

 With not a sail In sight, 



" There was less wind that morning, 

 We took a spell about, 

 And pqlled away to leeward, 

 Keeping a sharp lookout. 



" Sail ho 1 sail ho ! ! at anohor ! 1 1 

 The joyfnl sound rings out ; 

 We ail join in tne chorus, 

 With a glad and joyful shout. 



" With hearty will we pulled away, 

 And soon on the deck we stand, 

 Of the staunch old boat Varuna, 

 With Williams in command. 



" Our lives were saved by a hair's breadth ; 

 For as true as I tell the tale, 

 We'd barely reached the vessel's deck, 

 Wuen it blew a nor'west gale. 



" I have heard of the courage of soldiers — 

 I 'apect they are brave as a class,— 

 If they need more pluck than trawlers 

 I rather think I'll pass." 

 nboard the Marian, January 28, 1879. 



For Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 



S£h$ cJP^a/Waj:/ and ffimnond 



THIS Jis the way it happened : Years ago I had caught 

 black baas and muska'onge in the Red Cedar, had 

 hunted deer in the bottoms of the Wapsipmicon, and had 

 shot chickens, ducks and geese from the Cedars to the Shell- 

 Rock in Iowa. I had not been idle after I had returned 

 East and "settled down" — let the ghosts of numerous par- 

 tridges, squirrels and trout testify. Yes; I had "gone down 

 to the sea in ships," and, with cod-line in hand, drawn from 

 its briny residence the frisky cod and ponderous halibut ; 

 scores of lobsters, too, had yielded to me their maiden 

 blush. I thought I had good reason to believe that I was 

 well up in sport ; but I wasn't. " The cream hadn't riz." 



Last winter found me one of a number who met at head- 

 quarters, and around the comfortable Are spent many a 

 pleasant evening in relating our different experiences in the 

 woods and on the waters. The central figures of the group 

 were the Doctor and O., two vets., who had made annual 

 pilgrimages to the lakes and rivers of Maine and northern 

 New Hampshire for the last twenty -five years ; who, in fact, 

 were among the first sportsmen to cast their flies upon the 

 Rangeleys. Mine hosts — Abbott of Upton, and Flint of 

 Wentworth's Location — will vouch for the truth of my as- 

 sertion. I was an interested and attentive listener to their 

 reminiscences. Before the snow had disappeared I was the 

 happy possessor of a fly -rod, a well-stocked fly-book, and all 

 the other appurtenances. I studied Walton, Hallock, and 

 Norris, for the purpose of learning how to cast ; I was an 

 earnest student of literature relating to Salmo jonlinalis, and 

 drank in with avidity many hints of the way " how to do 

 it," which fell from the lips of the worthy Doctor, who never 

 mistrusted that I was absorbing his fish lore with as much 

 unction as the late three and four-pounders of Parmechene 

 Lake absorbed his delusive flies. 



Last September G., another novice in fly fishing, and my- 

 self were the recipients of a kind invitation from the Doctor 

 to accompany him and O. on a trip up the Magalloway. We 

 accepted, and one beautiful September morning found us 

 duly armed and equipped for a fortnight's sojourn in the 

 woods of Maine and New Hampshire. Ten o'clock at night 

 we were seated round a roaring fire at " Bailey's," in Cole- 

 brook, in old Coos County, N. H., making our plans for the 

 morrow. A good night's rest, and after a solid breakfast in 

 the early morn we were off for Flint's, on the Magalloway, 

 forty miles distant. A beautiful day again, and a splendid 

 drive over a good Toad through shifting scene of hill, 

 mountain and meadow ; a dinner, that was keenly relished, 

 at " Bragg's,"of Errol, where, in the rapids below the bridge 

 that spans the Androscoggin at this place, the Doctor used 

 in by-gone days to take trout by the score, "and beauties, 

 too, Webb!" But no more will the angler lure the spotted 



monarchs from these rapids. Some years ago a fellow was 

 prosecuted and punished for illegal fishing. He vowed 

 vengeance, and swore he would get even with those who 

 prosecuted him. He did, not only with them, but with all 

 their fish-line-al descendants, in this way : He procured 

 some live pickerel, and placed them in the river above the 

 falls that barred their progress to lakes and streams above, 

 where, up to that time, trout were abundant, and unmolested, 

 save by the angler. They multiplied, and have taken pos- 

 session of the Megalloway up to Escohas Falls, have invaded 

 and almost depleted Umbagog Lake of trcut. We shudder 

 when we realize that the Upper Lukes are at the mercy of 

 any malicious scamp who may, through revenge or " cu.-sid- 

 ness," introduce pickerel into their waters. If the Maine 

 Fish Commissioners would stock the Umbagog with black 

 bass they would in a few years afford good sport, and 

 destroy, to a great extent, the pickerel which now infest it 

 — at least good judges think so. As we walked slowly back 

 to the hotel, the Doctor appeared to be lost, in reverie. I did 

 not disturb his meditations, but could hear once in a-while 

 the ejaculation, "Alas, the depravity of man!" 



We left Bragg's at two p m., and after a few hours' rough 

 riding were landed at Flint's. Here we found our guides — 

 Peter Bennet, George Flint and Win— whom we had engaged 

 beforehand, discharged our team, and cbartered a more 

 primitive turn-out, and, with the addition of one more to our 

 party who was to meet us at that point, we started for 

 Clark's, the last farm on the river. From there to Fred 

 Flint's we footed it, while our luggage went round by 

 board. Fred is a model landlord, and his wife it model 

 landlordess. That supper was 'one of the events that stand 

 as ten-mile stones in my pilgrimage toward the end. After 

 supper we collected on the porch" took out our pipes, and 

 spent the evening in preparing for the morning's start up- 

 river; unpacked our kit, took out our rods and " strung 

 um," gave guides our tramping-boots to "water-proof," 

 fished out our " old close," and bid good-bye to store-clothes 

 for a season. 



M., our last (but not least) adjunct, and who was fated to 

 be my " pard," gave me valuable hints as to which end of 

 the rod I should attach my reel, and directed my attention 

 to noises, which he informed me were occasioned by trout 

 leaping the Escohas Falls, which are only half a mile from 

 Fred's hotel. I forgive him freely. 



Before the stars had dimmed we were up, and, after doing 

 justice to a tempting breakfast, we were ready for the start 

 — O. and Peter leading. Doctor, G. and George following, 

 while M. and I, with "Win and the tent and provisions, took 

 and held our position in the rear. At noon we reached the 

 Narrows, where a few trout were taken by O. Here the 

 river suddenly contracts to less than half its average v 

 and rushes swiftly through a rocky channel, giving the oars- 

 man a good chance to try his muscle. A short spurt and the 

 Narrows were behind us, and we hauled up at an old camp- 

 ing-ground, where hot coffee and bard-tack were the chief 

 items on our bill of fare. 



After a short rest we were again on our way up the still 

 river. The scenery up the river is of the sombre type ; the 

 forest, which comes down to the water's edge, is mainly 

 spruce and fir, and its dark foliage and absence of life (for I 

 think we did not hear the note of a bird all day) tends to 

 make it a little monotonous. But let us not be too critical. 

 Its redeeming feature is its crookedness. It has been said, 

 " that doubtless the Lord could have created a better berry 

 than the strawberry; but, doubtless, He never did." Si, 

 doubtless, He might have created a more crooked river; bur, 

 doubtless, He never did. Prominent objects would leave 

 their original positions and appear in our front, to our right, 

 to our left, in fact everywhere when least ex pec ted. Par- 

 ker's Hill waltzed around us three times while we were 

 going the same number of miles. In reply to my queries : 

 "What hill's this? What hill's that? What's the nan 

 this mountain? and what's the name of that?'' I received the 

 same answer — "Parker's." " Quite a number of hills round 

 here named after Mr. Parker?" quoth I. " No; the river is 

 a little crooked just here, and we see Parker's Hill from dif- 

 ferent points of view," said M. To my mind those Parker 

 Hill are the chief feature in the river scenery. Although 

 not strictly criminal, I consider a trip up the Megalloway a 

 very crooked transaction. 



At Melatuck's Pond, a few miles above the Narrows, M. 

 tried to induce the trout; but no, " it wan't the right kind of a 

 day." 



The Meadows were reached aud passed, the "bigrip3" 

 were encountered, and with pushing and pulling we were 

 soon safely above them. A short distance above them we 

 passed the forks of the Megalloway, and at five o'clock we 

 ran our boat into "Spaff's" Landing, and were at the end 

 of our voyage. 



It was an unusually quick trip ; thirty miles with heavily, 

 loaded boats up a swift river. We were tired and hungry. 

 The tent was soon up and the camp-fire started, boughs cut, 

 blankets spread, and then our supper. There was no call for 

 "bitters" to stimulate the appetite, but we fell to with 

 upon the flapjacks and ham that the guides were cooking 

 "just to a turn." Then our pipes. Then the Doctor, O. and 

 M. were missing. G. and 1 were alone by the camp lire, 

 talking over the events of the day, for it was a new river to 

 us. Finally we joined our comrades i-i the tent. Soon all 

 was quiet, save occasionally the screech of uu owl or the 



