Terms, Five Dollarg a Year, j 

 Ten Cents a Copy. J 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1875. 



( Volume 5, Number 7. 



1 IT Chatham St. (CityHall8qr.) 



For Forest and Stream. 



feek in the ^ilh of ^ninety. 



WE left Mount Sterling, the metropolis of Mont- 

 gomery County, a flourishing town of 3,000 souls, 

 at 3 o'clock on Sunday evening, having seven miles of good 

 metal and eight miles of bad dirt road to traverse before 

 reaching the banks of Red River. Montgomery is the 

 last county in the Blue Grass belt, and the very moment 

 you leave its eastern boundary, the untamed and untame- 

 able wilderness opens before you. Spurs of the irregular 

 mountains subordinate to the Cumberland range reach 

 almost down to the green pastures, and thus far|no well- 

 graded thoroughfares have been opened beyond what is 

 called the "Levy" — Heaven only knows why. Black 

 Creek Mountain rears sombrely in front, and the traveler 

 has a dreary prospect when the wheels of his spring wagon 

 turn up the first angle of 45°. There were four of us in the 

 party. Two "rods," one "shot," and a contraband, or 

 man of all work. Our wagon was light in appearance, 

 but new and well joined, and the horses, a pair of steady 

 bays, strong and sure-footed as goats. We found them at 

 Horace Carr's, a rather distinguished stableman and jockey 

 of Mount Sterling, and many times had reason to congrat- 

 ulate ourselves upon the endurance and intelligence of the 

 animals. The ascent of Black Creek Hill was not more 

 abrupt and perilous than its descent, and all of us pre- 

 ferred the solid ground to the uncertain wheels. It was 

 fairly dark when we entered the dismal windings of the 

 unsettled valley, and but for the moon, which rode over 

 us, as Read says, "swinging boat-like," we could never 

 have solved the problem of courses with our coursers. 

 The gnarled knees and roots of old sycamores, elms, wal- 

 nuts and willows were everywhere in the way, and we en- 

 joyed the ride about as thoroughly as a pea — if it had sen- 

 sibility — would enjoy the interior of a child's rattle. It was 

 fairly 10 o'clock when we debouched from the vale of 

 Black Creek upon the wider bottom of Red River. Two 

 miles above at the Forge there were several good houses 

 where we might have found shelter and food, but Caesar, 

 with the enduring spirit and courage of another whose 

 name he bore, determined we should enjoy a spring mat- 

 trass of ferns and a covering of firmament. We had a 

 tent -fly in our equipages, but the Czar, as we called our 

 black tyrant, said we would enjoy the night better without 

 it. Our stores consisted of a frying pan — four foot iron 

 handle — a camp kettle, a skillet, a coffee pot, half dozen 

 tin cups, half dozen tin plates, knives and forks and a 

 small liquer chest containing bottles, glasses and several 

 useful articles. The provision department was rather more 

 elaborately furnished than either necessity or true sports- 

 manship required. We had a fine side of bacon, two hams, 

 a peck of meal, a dozen loaves of fresh bread, four pounds 

 crackers, two jars chow-chow, three pounds coffee, eight 

 pounds sugar, and a small assortment of canned meats and 

 fruits. Condiments of all kinds. Our supper on Sunday 

 night consisted of bread and butter, coffee, boiled middling, 

 and the remains of two broiled chickens, brought from 

 Mount Sterling for an emergency en route. We were too 

 much fatigued by our rough ride to remain long with the 

 cigars after supper, so by 11 :15 we were duly rolled up in 

 blankets and off to the land of nod. 



Monday.. r Caesar gathered his fuel and was midway the 

 breakfast when I arose to investigate the M krik" in my neck, 

 and the unusual resistance at my knee and hip joints. His 

 fire was burning brightly by the side of an old sycamore 

 log. There was an aromatic odor of coffee and a general 

 freshness about everything, except my joints. The sun 

 was just struggling up, but the fog of the river obscured 

 everything and left the impression that the hour was nearer 

 daylight than sunrise. I called to Ed. and Bob, who 

 were coiled together like a bunch of White & Hunt's new- 

 fangled cigars, and they "came out of the kinks" with com- 

 mendable celerity. A bath in the brook is a great aid to 

 tired nature's sweet restorer, and in my case it did most of 

 the restoring, as I knew it would before I took the plunge. 

 Whilst breakfast was being prepared, Ed. and I went after 



minnows. We made several hauls with a good seine, but 

 found Black Creek rather thiuly settled. We did not take 

 more than two or three dozen bass minnows and none at 

 all for pike. Our objective fish on this occasion was the 

 pike, or jack, as he is called in this region, and we were 

 anxious to open the campaign that morning at Lindsey's 

 dam, two miles above. We failed to find the bait, how- 

 ever, and had no alternative but to waste the morning with 

 black perch and rely upon taking a supply of suckers at 

 noon and late in the evening. After breakfast we struck 

 camp, and in the language of the immortal Livingstone, or 

 Stanley, or somebody, "trecked up the left bank of the 

 Lim-po-po," or rather Red River. The dam at the Forge 

 is an old fashioned concern — a horror to any true fisher 

 man — above fourteen feet high. It was constructed before 

 the enactment of a law requiring dams not to exceed six 

 feet in height. Form erly there was a mill on the right 

 bank, but one morning there came a tide and the mill 

 went away with it. Ed. remarked: "Here is a very fine 

 dam by a mill site, but no mill by a dam site." All of 

 which would have been very funny but for the staleness. 

 I have no doubt the bass in the pool under this dam would 

 have taken almost any fly that morning, but we did not 

 come prepared with any flies. I secured a position on the 

 right abutment, or rather under it, and Ed. located him- 

 self about the middle of the dam. The water was run- 

 ning over in one or two low places only, and there was no 

 difficulty in crossing. Bob seized one of our large pike 

 rods and waded over to a small island in the pool. Though 

 he had no pretensions as a fisherman he took the first bass, 

 striking him at the right time and landing him with the 

 skill and nonchalance of a thorough Walton. He was the 

 largest we caught that day, weighing three pounds five 

 ounces. We took eighteen in all, and they weighed 15£ 

 pounds. The sport was excellent whilst it lasted^ but the 

 bass refuse to eat after the suu has fairly reached the water, 

 so we were compelled to close in an hour. We employed 

 a young gentleman who paid us a visit during the day, to 

 catch the pike bait, and he was very successful, bringing 

 in about fifty fine lively suckers from eight t© twelve inches 

 long. This boy was a rare character — a thorough moun- 

 taineer — the son of a bear hunter and skilled fisherman 

 named Sea. His christian name was Rucker. He had red 

 hair, a freckled face, strong grey eyes, was compactly 

 built and about thirteen years of age. Two years ago, 

 alone and unaided, he killed and brought home a large she 

 bear. Bob tied to him at once, and arrangements for a 

 deer hunt were entered into without delay. In the even- 

 ing we tried the pike, but without success. The mill pond 

 or dam is about six miles long, very deep and filled with 

 large logs and trunks of trees. It is a fine harbor for fine 

 fish, and many very large ones have been taken here. On 

 our way to camp we landed five more bass, one weighing 

 nearly two pounds. 



Tuesday. Caesar made the acquaintance of a mountain 

 lady and produced, to our astonishment, a jug of fresh 

 buttermilk and some fried potatoes. These with our fish 

 and coffee made a breakfast for a prince. At six o'clock 

 we were in a canoe slowly paddling up the dam towards 

 Lindsey's saw mill — about three quarters of a mile above — 

 and by six and a half were comfortably established on 

 some logs of an immense drift. I did not have much hope 

 of taking a pike, and had brought my bass pole and was 

 fishing with a small sucker, not more than six inches long. 

 Ed. was using a long India cane with full rig and bait for 

 large fish. He always had greater ambition than I, and 

 though he caught fewer fish they were better than mine. 

 Bob and Rucker passed us on the horses, shouting 

 "good-by!" as they went up on the west side. They were 

 bound for a point above the town of Stanton, the county 

 seat of Powell, where deer were said to abound. Just as 

 we replied to his salutation my cork — we are obliged to 

 use corks on account of the many snags — went sailing 

 southward and down the river. It moved rapidly and my 

 reel sang sweetly. At first I thought it was a large bass, 

 but it carried away so much line, and with such apparent 

 ease that I became convinced it was a pike, and was 

 L alarmed for the security of my tackle. It was evidently 



making for another drift pile on the west side more than 

 a hundred feet from where I stood. It was clearly no time 

 to strike, because he had not paused a single instant, and 

 I could not risk giving the reel any slack for fear of draw- 

 ing the bait from his lips. My line was more than two- 

 thirds gone and the fish still going. Ed. noticed the con- 

 dition of things and kept saying "let him run! let him 

 run!" just as if I did not know that was the only chance. 

 At last he stopped in the very edge of the drift, and nearly 

 at the end of my line. He remained still at least half a 

 minute. I did not wait longer, but pressing my thumb on 

 the spool, I brought the rod severely to the left and hung 

 him without difficulty. Fortunately he struck for mid- 

 stream, and it enabled me to recover more than ten feet of 

 line. I was using a small wire-snood about twelve inches 

 long with a bass Limerick about three-quarters of an 

 inch from barb to shank. I knew he would be sate as far 

 as this was concerned, but I feared he would turn suddenly 

 and snap the line or the rod when I was recovering the slack. 

 Pike often do this even with much stronger tackle. I soon 

 found he was hung in the throat and felt more confident, 

 being able to turn him without trouble by simply holding 

 a tight line when he started in any objectionable direction. 

 The difficulty in taking him out was apparent in the sur- 

 roundings of my position on the drift. I knew if he was- 

 allowed to run deep and come close to my station he would 

 entangle the line and walk away almost without opposition. 

 Ed. observed this and brought the canoe around without 

 delay. I stepped in and we floated out to the middle of 

 fcLe river where we had an open field and a fair fight. In 

 twenty minutes from the striking he was tractable and per- 

 fectly in my power. I brought him up to the side of the 

 canoe four or five times befcre Ed. used the gaff upon him, 

 and even then I was rather regretful that I had not given 

 him a fairer show. At one time I thought he would 

 weigh twenty pounds, but upon taking him out of the 

 water I saw he was not so large. He drew just eleven 

 pounds and a half on the scales at the mill. We con- 

 tinued in the mill pond all day with no further success of 

 consequence. Ed. caught a long, thin, hungry looking 

 pike weighing 4£ pounds, but there was no sport in taking 

 him. He appeared sluggish and came out of the water 

 making no gallant resistance. Both of us had several 

 misses in the afternoon, and Ed. a most deplorable mis- 

 fortune in losing a large fish after he had completely 

 worn him out. I could have taken him with the gaff 

 hook several times, but Ed. preferred to let him play until 

 he played off the hook within ten feet of the bank where 

 we stood. He floated away slowly, and I presume as 

 much to his own surprise as ours. We reached camp 

 about five o'clock, and before supper I scored eight small 

 bass. Caesar proved a better hand with the minnow seine 

 than any of us, and had two full buckets of fine lively 

 steel backs when we came in. 



Wednesday. We were off again tolerably early, this 

 time to an unfrequented place above Lindsey's mill "at the 

 head of Jackson's Bottom. The river here is very beauti- 

 ful, running under great high cliffs on one side, and a 

 magnificent fringe of elms and wild cucumber trees on the 

 other. It is rather tortuous and winds provokingly in 

 horse shoes and letter S's. In some places we could walk 

 an hundred yards and cut off a full mile of water route. 

 We paid our respects to the fish at the mouth of a small 

 stream — the name of which I do not know — about nine 

 .o'clock. It had a most inviting appearance and many rare 

 traditions were associated with it, but though we fished 

 faithfully until nearly noon we took nothing but a two- 

 pound bass and a blue channel cat. At three o'clock we re- 

 turned to the mill, and whilst I enjoyed the process of 

 plank making, Ed. sat in the canoe at the boom log and al- 

 lowed his minnow to play in the deep water. One of the 

 mill hands called my attention and I went forward to 

 find the inveterate fisherman in a glorious struggle with a 

 large jack. His bait had been taken with great voracity 

 a very few moments after I left him, and he was now en- 

 joying a hard fight. Being alone in the cause he was 

 at a disadvantage, for the fish controlled its movement and 

 bore him in whatever direction it chose to go. I wa§ 



