Terms, Four Dollars a Year, j 

 Ten Cents a Copy. I 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 21, 1876. 



j Volume 7, Number 7. 



1 IT Chatham St. (City Hall Sqr.) 



THE 



For Forest and Stream. 

 INTRODUCTION OF MINT. 



A LEGEND OP CHICAGO. 



IN fair Chicago's earlier days, 

 From '33 to '5, 

 Among the various people who 



Swarmed in that Western hive; 

 The Old Dominion sent her share, 



And then, as now, were found 

 Judges and colonels coming from 

 Kentucky's bloody ground. 



These prairie lands were rich in crops, 

 Corn, wheat, and hogs for slaughter; 



Lots doubled every wesk in price, 



. And whiskey flowed like water. 



One thing was needed— only one, 

 To make a paradise, 



Mint juleps could not be enjoyed 

 For want of mint and ice. 



All other sweet and fragrant herbs 



Bloomed on the prairie round, 

 But mentha pip, too cruel fate 



Omitted from the ground, 

 Ice- houses soon appeared, well filled 



From the then limpid river; 

 But what is life bereaved of mint? 



Men's nerves ceased to quiver. 



From Indiana's treeless plains 



The Hoosiers brought their mint, 

 In far Wisconsin's wooded hills 



The Badgers took their hint. 

 Each steamer from the lower lakes, 



Schooners from Erie's shore. 

 Brought deckloads of the blessed herb, 



The cry was still for more. 



Now times grew hard, cash disappeared, 



And lots began to fall; 

 Some citizens began to leave, 



Milwaukee had the call; 

 Kentucky and Virginia's sons 



Thus sadly prophesy: 

 "No town can live where mint won't grow, 



Chicago '11 surely die I" 



What saved the town? few knew the tale. 



About this time Death came 

 To a colonel of Virginia race, 



Starbottle was his name; 

 From these rich ashes, julip quenched, 



A crop of mint arose, 

 Covered the soil, and with that crop 



Chicago greenly grows. 



S. C. C. 



ft* 



For Forest and Stream. 



tout of 

 nke. 



fanfidqi 



A chain of six beautiful sheets of water, in the north- 

 western part of Maine, lying among mountains covered 

 with unbroken forests that the lumberman's axe has not 

 disturbed for many a year, constitutes the headwaters of 

 the Androscoggin River, commonly known as the Richard- 

 son or Rangeley Lakes, when spoken of collectively, though 

 separately the three uppermost of the chain are called the 

 "Rangeleys," after an Englishman of that name, who 

 settled years ago at the only village upon the lakes, faceti. 

 ously called Rangeley "city." The lakes are connected 

 with one another by rapid streams, really portions of the 

 Androscoggin, and it is in the rapid water that the best 

 fishing is obtained. 



The trout taken from the Rangeley Lakes are on an 

 average larger than those caught elsewhere in the waters 

 of either America or Europe, and it is probable that the 

 largest individual trout taken with artificial flies were cap- 

 tured in the same region. W. 0. Prime in his book, ,4 I 

 Go a Fishing," has the following: "In Maine I have seen 

 many brook trout weighing over eight pounds each, and 

 have evidence satisfactory to me, that at least two trout, 

 the veritable salmo fontinalis, our speckled brook-trout' 

 were killed in Rangeley Lake, weighing a trifle over eleven 

 pounds each," The largest fish the writer ever saw, was 



one day in September, at the famous Trout-cove at the 

 head of the rapid water at Upper Dam. Mr. Shiels, of 

 Boston, the well-known fly-tyer, was angling in the cove 

 when a trout rose a few yards from his boat, making a 

 wake as it turned lazily over (as large trout are wont to) 

 like a porpoise. Mr. Shiels is an old angler, has taken 

 many a large fish, and can measure them pretty accurately 

 by his eye in the water. The trout gave him an excellent 

 opportunity to judge it, and Mr. Shiels unhesitatingly 

 gave its weight at thirteen pounds. There is very little 

 doubt but there are trout in the lakes of an equal, if not of 

 a greater weight. As a rule, the large fish are loth to rise 

 to a fly. When they do, they roll up leisurely to the sur- 

 face and suck it in, much preferring to feed in deep water. 

 It is often difficult to convince any one who has confined 

 his fishing principally to small brooks, of there being brook- 

 trout weighing seven or eight pounds each; they are rather 

 inclined to believe them a species of lake trout. But there 

 are no lake-trout in the lakes, or at least none have ever 

 been taken. There is, however, a small blue-trout of curi- 

 ous shape, differing essentially from salmo fontinalis, that 

 is now and then seen. The largest trout to my knowledge 

 caught on a fly weighed ten pounds; nothing as large 

 caught in English water in a similar fashion is on record. 

 In the Thames these fish have been taken fifteen or eighteen 

 pounds in weight, but invariably, I believe, with trolling 

 tackle. Every year, in Maine, hundreds of trout are 

 bagged that pull the scale at six pounds, and eight-pound- 

 ers are by no means rare. The largest brace of trout 

 known to be taken there were hooked at one cast, and suc- 

 cessfully netted by Mr. T., of New York, immediately 

 after the equinoctial storm of last September. They 

 weighed nearly five pounds each, and were caught in the 

 brook between the "Big" lake and Molechunkamunk, at 

 the head of rapid water, and with a 10-ounce Conroy rod. 

 That the Rangeley trout attain such a great size, is due no 

 doubt to the immense, undisturbed feeding-ground tney 

 possess in the deep lakes, and the tributary streams. 

 Twice a year the trout leave the deep waters of the lakes 

 and ascend the streams. In the spring, when the ice 

 breaks up, and the lumbermen float down the logs from 

 lake to lake, the fish follow them to feed on the insects dis- 

 lodged from the bark, and also to get a taste of May flies 

 and other delicacies that are washed from the banks as the 

 water receeds on opening the sluice-dam gates. That they 

 do follow the logs is well known, and the lumbermen may 

 often be seen sitting on the "boom," or outer logs, in a 

 line hauling in fish one after another on hand gear or with 

 the aid of alder poles. Mr. Murray's book on the Adiron- 

 dacks is calculated to give one the idea that the Maine 

 streams are full of sawdust, and that the lumbermen spoil 

 everything; trees fall right and left, the sound of the axe 

 wakes you at morning to haunt you till night, etc. Now 

 the dams are not for sawing logs, but merely sluice-dams 

 to hold back the water until it be high enough to float the 

 logs over the rapids between the lakes; there are no saw 

 mills, consequently no sawdust; the lumbermen's axe is 

 never heard, nor has it been for years. One never misses 

 a tree in the forest, and if one has never seen the lumber- 

 men sluice their boats through the foaming torrent at the 

 dams at the risk of their lives, or drive the logs over the 

 rapids, I advise him to be sure to time his visit so that he 

 may witness their feats. 



While the trout fishing at the lakes is still excellent, it 

 has deteriorated without doubt in the last 20 years. But not 

 so much in June as in September; the fishing a year 

 ago last June I was assured by the native ang- 

 lers, was as good as they had ever known it. At Up- 

 per Dam it was not uncommon for two men to catch a 

 bushel basket full of trout of an afternoon from four or 

 five pounds downward. There were a hue of men on the 

 best days standing on the dam catching two at nearly every 

 cast of their flies. But trout are curious fish in some re- 

 spects. One day the fishing was excellent, the next miser- 

 able, even though the weather on both nights be equally 

 propitious. This change is caused, I presume, by a super- 

 abundance of trout food in the stream, the pursuit of which ' 



takes them away from their usual haunts, or perhaps, some 

 peculiarity in air or water. After many fish have been 

 taken out of a pool those that remain will often refuse to 

 bite or look at a bait, even if you sink it under their very 

 noses. They will frequently, too, be made suspicious by 

 seeing a crowd of anglers near them. More than once I 

 have observed a fine trout playing just off the dam, beyond 

 the anglers, merely shaking his tail derisively at their flies 

 as they were offered to him, that I have captured by steal- 

 ing quitely down while my brother-fishermen had disap- 

 peared for their supper, which showed that Mr. Trout was 

 perfectly aware that said anglers were babbling their rods 

 for no good, but when they were gone, he forgot his 

 suspicions and seeing my fly struggling on the water took 

 it like the noble fellow he was- The trout remain in the 

 water of the streams until about the middle or last of July, 

 when they either leave for the deep waters of the lakes or 

 make their home under some cool bank near a deep pool. 

 Bait fishing perhaps takes precedence in June, although one 

 may have excellent sport with the fly. Trolling (with a 

 single hook) is also somewhat in vogue and many large 

 trout are thus caught— the troll being sunk with a heavy 

 weight. But September is the most glorious month of the 

 year at the RaugeJey's. The mountain air is inconceivably 

 clear and pure, the maples on the mountain side are of the 

 deepest red, the birches golden with a dark buck ground 

 of firs behind that doubles their richness, and the moun- 

 tain tops arc fringed with snow. The days, too, are de- 

 liciously cool and bracing, and the nights'so cold that one 

 delights to join the group around the open fire of the camps 

 for a social pipe. If one thing were needed to testify to the 

 popularity of this month at the lakes, it would be the way 

 in which old anglers return year after year to their favorite 

 spots; in fact, one really meets a person there who has not 

 been up before. The fishing in September is better than at 

 any other time and more to be relied on as the fish infallibly 

 ascend the streams to spawn ; they are also much larger on 

 an average than in June, and the greater coldness of water 

 makes them much more lively in rising to a fly. Septem- 

 ber fishing is chiefly along the clear streams between the 

 lakes or the various tributary brooks, and as the water is 

 low, one is able to walk along on the boulders 

 and obtain plenty of room to make long casts of the fly. 

 It. is a much mooted question whether trout have any pre- 

 i .rence for color in flies; to my mind it is clear they have a 

 preference for certain hues, although when they are very 

 hungry they will snap at almost anything. It is when they 

 are not anxious to rise that they may be attracted by cer- 

 tain colors. Genio 0. Scott speaks of catching several large 

 trout at Middle Dam out of a pool where hundreds of fish 

 were jumping, but could not be induced to rise to a fly. 

 Scott at length observed they were feeding on grasshoppers, 

 and fastening a couple to his leaders, struck and killed several 

 fine ones. Last season I noticed at the same place that the 

 large trout preferred rather a brilliant, small-sized salmon 

 fly to any thing else. Perhaps the best fly for general use 

 is a Montreal, claret-hackle, turkey or mallard wings: this 

 and guinea hen tail. Next in preference comes brown 

 hackle, with brown wings, which also is very successful. 

 The rods that come to the lakes are usually Ot the best de- 

 scription, Castle Connell's, Leonard's, Oonro} ■':-,, Morris's, 

 etc. I think the Leonard split-bamboo— six-splice, is con- 

 ceded by the majority to be the best rod for casting, "play- 

 ing and general use. 



Ah! is there. any thing more exciting than striking a seven 

 or eight-oound fish in a deep pool along the brook at the 

 head of rapid water where the utmost skill is requisite to 

 save him! this, too, on an eight or ten-ounce rod. There 

 is a prolonged excitement, a sense of glorious uncertainty 

 about it that few sports afford. Your game is not as large as 

 salmon, though to be sure your tackle is lighter, but there 

 is not the fatigue and the tramping there is in salmon 

 fishing that makes it such hard work, delightful though it 

 be. The beginning of the close time in Maine used to be 

 October 15th; two years ago it was for a second time made 

 October 1st. The change was undoubtedly wise as the fish 

 are often ready to spawn by the last of September. I hav@ 



