[Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by the Forest and Stream Publishing Company, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1879. 
Volume 13-No.11. 
No. Ill Fulton Street, New York. 
AFTER HARVEST DAY. 
'T'HE dahlias by the garden walks, ‘ 
With gorgeous hues are flushing; 
The grapes are purpling on the vine, 
The salvia blooms are red; 
The mountain brooks with leap and laugh 
Through leafy glens are rushing, 
By rocks where feathery fronds of fern 
And tender lichens spread. 
The chestnut burs upon the trees 
Are full almost to breaking; 
The haeel-bushes in the swamp. 
The hickories on the hill 
Are laden with the bursting pods, 
To give a merry-making 
To sun-browned boys and girls about 
The school house and the mill. 
The quail down in the buckwheat field 
Pipes forth his cheery whistle. 
The partridge on a hollow log 
Is thrumming in the sun; 
The apple trees are bent with fruit, 
The down is on the thistle, 
The fulness of the year has come. 
The summer work is done. 
The squirrel runs along the fence. 
The rabbits through the stubble, 
The turkey spreads bis bronze-black wings 
With wattles red with pride; 
The springs upon the upland slope, 
With limpid waters bubble 
And flow with merry music 
Down to the meadow-side. 
Dp from the ocean climbs the moon 
In rich nnd mellow splendor. 
The blue sea glimmers in her rays, 
A Hood of silver light; 
O'er all the scone a quiet reigns, 
A peace subdued and tender. 
As if the earth and heaven kept 
Their blissful nuptial night. 
There Is a wholesome lesson shown 
In everything about us, 
Where all in perfect unison, 
Their separate parts fulfill; 
The world will be as fresh and fair. 
The sky as bright without us, 
And were we dead the birds would sing. 
The harvest ripen still. 
Then let us gather to our souls 
The wisdom nature teaches, 
And so live that when autumn fulls 
And reaper Death shall come. 
He finds us like the ripened shock, 
Which, when the sickle reaches, 
Is ready for the garner 
In the heavenly harvest home. 
Franklin W. Fish. 
§he §mm mid #>>'/( of J lh$km 
[PROM QETB SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT ON BOARD THE JAMESTOWN 1 
W Sitka, September 8th, 
Editor Forest and Stream :— 
A UGUST’S steamer brought me my long-delayed bun¬ 
dle of Forest and Streams, and you may rest as¬ 
sured that their perusal did much to while away the 
monotonous month, while like Oliver we waited for 
more, which came on the 6th inst. 
The month has been monotonous, because our out-door 
sports have either ceased, or palled upon us. A few de¬ 
luded ducks took advantage of a rather cool spell early 
in July and put in an appearance, and a 'few were 
bagged ; and we fondly fancied that some generous flocks 
of canvas-backs and geese, which flew over us going 
North, were bound to the lakes up among the mountains 
in our rear, and that early any morning we would find 
them in the hay. But leg-wearying, clothes-ruining, 
skin-scratching climbs up the mountains, and through 
the wait-a-bits, met with no adequate reward ; the birds 
had gone on as advance couriers of the Jeanette, perhaps, 
and in a few days the warm weather they were doubt¬ 
less fleeing from, came upon us. And everything left us ; 
even the little divers, about as big as robin's ; and the un¬ 
gainly shags, who every evening had put the rocky islets 
in deep mourning - with their sable plumage, as they 
gathered in hundreds for then - nightly roost. Only one 
bird staid with us. Thermometer 95 degrees in the sun, 
made no more difference to him than would a freezing 
temperature. Well do the Indians dub this bird of ill- 
omen the raven— Tillieum ; which, being interpreted, 
means friend, for they stay always with them ; and, when 
a cremation is taking place, the attendance upon a neigh¬ 
boring post of one of these creatures is looked upon as a 
most excellent omen. They are about twice the size of 
an ordinary crow, and are tame and plentiful, and use¬ 
ful, too, for Sitka is not beliind the rest of the world in 
her need of scavengers. They are the buzzards of this 
region. The Indians stopped bringing us grouse, and 
halibut and bass. All who had energy enough were en¬ 
gaged in capturing the salmon, with which the waters 
teemed. Hunters’ cannery was kept busy enough. 
One day I jumped iu with Tom McCawley, one of the 
most experienced of salmon seiners, and got him to show 
me how it was done. Our boat, rowed by four untiring 
Indians, had already a ton at least of fish just taken, but 
there was room for another, and McCawley wanted it. 
We rowed slowly around the various islands for an hour 
with no success; the tide was high, the day too bright; 
none were jumping. We pulled in to a quiet, pleasant, 
little cove and lunched ; the Indians preparing for us a 
good pot of coffee, of which- they are very fond, when 
well sweetened. With plenty of it, hard bread and 
smoked salmon, they can work forever. As we lay on 
the grass with our pipes, an Indian called out “ fish,’-and 
pointed to a spot in the channel hut a short way off. 
Soon another leaped, and hi a moment we were in and 
off. 1 saw the fish jump, and, after a little time another, 
or, as it seemed to me, the same one. I didn’t think 
much of that school; but when I said so, the Indians an¬ 
swered “ Tshugatahen ” (plenty), and Tom said, “When one 
jumps, there’s a hundred under him that don't; ” and that 
was news to me, for I expected to see the whole school at 
once, as one does porpoises. Pulling for the shore, fifty 
yards to the left of them, one end of the seine was landed 
and held by the crew of one of the boats (there were two), 
while the other rapidly pulled around the apparently de¬ 
serted spot; the hundred yards were soon placed, and 
"Haul in!” was the order. I tended boat, our crew 
having also landed, and made fast to the outer row of 
corks, and was drawn in with them, peering anxiously 
into the diminishing circle. Soon I saw bright streaks 
darting rapidly too and fro, and then a dozen in the air 
glistening iu the sunshine. The pool diminished, and a 
solid mass of plunging fish became visible—not one leaped 
over the corks ; they dove as they approached the wall of 
net, rising in the centre for convulsive leaps. In a few 
moments two tons of salmon, weighing five to twenty 
pounds each, were huddled together in a six-foot cir¬ 
cle, and into this the Indians who were not holding the 
net, dashed blow after blow of short, stout gaff hooks, 
jerking out with every dash a salmon—they simply 
“fired at the flock,” and never missed. A jerk over the 
gunwales, and the noble fish lay heaped up gasping and 
straggling. 
This was in July; nearly all of the first were good, and 
according to McCawloy there were five varieties in the 
catch. A few which had begun to “dog” were cast into the 
canoe of an old Indian who aecompaned us, and who had 
gleaned quite a canoe load of such as are considered un¬ 
suitable for canning. 
In August the fish were r unn i n g up the creeks and 
river to spawn. 
While on my occasional trout fishing jaunts I saw 
plenty of them, but not in such fabulous quantities as 1 
had been led to believe I should. In the deep pools they 
had gathered, and swam restlessly around, reminding us 
of the “ white whale ” in his glass prison at the Aquarium, 
not only by their motions, but by their colors, for some 
of them were of a dirty yellow, and some but partially 
turned to that color. Our baited hooks presented no at¬ 
traction to them, nor did they for that matter to any de¬ 
cent sized trout, which had either left the pools or were 
gorged on the spawn, whatever the reason, we got but 
fingerlings, and this in pools from which a month before 
I had scorned less than a hall’ pound of fish. 
On one occasion, up Saw Mill Creek, a singular thing 
occurred. A friend fishing near me felt a heavy bite, and 
his stout line was almost instantly bitten off near the 
hook; he feels sure that it was a salmon which thus 
robbed him; lie could see one at the instantalmost caught 
in the act, but will or does a salmon bite at this stage of 
its existance ? 
All my lore goes to make me believe the contrary. A 
Creole boy who was fishing in the same pool, was better 
outfitted than I with my pet Orvis, He had a great gaff 
hook on the end of the bean pole, with which he fished 
for trout, and when a restless Balmon swain near, he 
gaffed l nm . 
On ora way down the creek that day, I saw that which 
has set me against salmon forever, or till I get very 
hungry. In shoal water, I saw a fish some two feet long 
feebly struggling as though he were trying to push him¬ 
self ashore. I picked him up and landed him on the grass. 
A sicker fish never continued to wag its tail. His skin 
was yellow,picked out with green and blue spots (such as 
a good recoiler will leave on your arm after an all day 
shoot). Spots from the size of a bit to that of a dollar, and 
one about an inch wide and six long on his side, were raw 
as if gnawed out by mice. One eye was gone, one gill 
cover eaten through, and every fin and his tail were but 
ragged bristles, all integument between the rays having 
disappeared. No wonder the legend arose that all Cali¬ 
fornia salmon die immediately after spawning has arisen 
and been passed down, if this is a common effect upon 
them. It may be that this fellow had been wounded with a 
gaff and then sick and hlepless, devoured alive by small 
fish ; but I haven’t hankered for salmon since. 
The Creoles and Indians catch daily great numbers of 
these sick fish with their gaffs, and they consider that 
they are better eating when dried then the healthy fish. 
I don’t believe that you’ve ever seen a real good specimen 
of a “dog salmon,” or you wouldn’t be spending your time 
up the Pi-ovinces. 
HI give you a sketch of one drawn from life (Card 
No. 1). 
There, consider that fellow painted green and yellow, 
as thin as a flounder set up on edge, and dnb Mm 11 Lordly 
Salar ” if you can. 
I’ve got three species of trout in alcohol; first, specimens 
of the salmon trout, which I described in my June letter; 
next, salmo fontinalis, which while resembling to some 
extent those of the Adirondacks, differ widely in others. 
These have the crimson specks, red fins and flesh, square 
tails and general appearance of our trout, but they are in¬ 
ferior in every way. First as to sport ; no fly will tempt 
them : nothing in fact but a chunk of nasty sticky spawn, 
which they will approach leisurely and feed on a3 dain¬ 
tily as, well a full fed kitten on a hit of meat. You must 
sink you i- weighted hook to the bottom, and keep up a 
series of little jerks as though you were bobbing for eels, 
and by and by you strike one ; once hooked they are quite 
gamy, much more so than the salmon trout. My big one 
this season Cost me half an hour's time and gave me con¬ 
siderable sport. I saw him once or twice and thought I 
had a four pounder, and when finally I landed him, he 
should have weighed at least that, for he was 21 inches 
long, and that length would weigh not less than 55 ounces 
at home ; this one weighed but 2 pounds 10 ounces. And 
it has been so with all I have caught ; they are lighter 
than our Eastern trout. One summer at Piseeo I weighed 
and measured about 30 Adirondack .trout, as close to 
10 inches long as I could get them. They averaged 10 
inches and weighed 6 ounces. 
I have weighed here two specimens of nearly the same 
length, one salmon and one speckled. The speckled 
measured 10 inches exactly, and weighed 5 ounces and 
106 grains ; the salmon trout measured 10.3 inches, and 
weighed 5 ounceajmd 20 grains. 
The third variety I have seen but one specimen of. It 
was caught a few days ago and is called by the Indians 
the “ Mountain trout ; ” they say they are plentiful at the 
head waters. My specimen is just 10.1 inches, and weighs 
7± ounces ; the scales are nearly as large as those of a 
herring. I’m wrong; after writing that, going by impres¬ 
sions, 1 got out my bottle of Alaska herrings and compared; 
the trout’s scales are not nearly so large, and I will change 
the dimensions to say about the size of those on a little 
creek chub, or about three or four times the size of those 
on a real trout. The body is spotted like a tiger’s, with 
black spots, which are from one-sixteenth to one-eighth 
inch in diameter. These extend considerably below tho 
medial line and cover the tail and the dorsal fins ; the 
second dorsal is adipose, but slightly less so than that of 
a fontinalis, having a slight show of membrane on which 
there are four spots. The ventral and anal fins are yellow¬ 
ish in centre, bordered with red, the tail is square, the 
belly a dull white. See sketch. This trout differs from all 
the others we have taken, in that he was not slimey as all 
the others now are. I believe that both of the' others 
spawn about this season. Several fontinalis which I 
caught a week ago were full of very ripe spawn. 
As the salmon season closes, I reflect flow baseless were 
my expectations, and how foundationless the lies of 
those who made me believe that salmon could be caught 
herejiy the barrel full, as one would catch cod off Cape 
Ann. Except by the natives, with their gaffs, there has 
not been a salmon caught on a hook here this summer 
and flies of all kinds, spoons, and minnow gangs have 
been cast and trolled in the vain pursuit. So a summer 
in Alaska has not yielded me a salmon, for less than a 
bit, and I shouldn’t come here fishing. 
The Indians are again taking to sea fishing, and halibut 
are brought alongside daily, good and cheap. The hook 
by which these are taken— the whole apparatus, iu fact—i 
worth describing. The hook (see sketch) is made of two 
pieces of tough wood each about eleven inches long, bev¬ 
elled at the larger end, and seized together at such an an¬ 
gle that the opening, b-d, is about five inches. A sharp 
iron spike projects from the lower portion and forms a. 
