FOREST AND STREAM 
1007 
gard to that country ; but the streams mentioned 1 know 
to be alive with the speckled beauties. Also there are here 
buffalo, bear, elk, deer, mountain sheep, antelope, geese, 
ducks, grouse and sage-hens in countless thousands. The 
sportsman, who comes to this country will receive a wel¬ 
come by all true brother sportsmen and will iilld game, 
large arid small, to his entire satisfaction. 
Wm. A. Allen. 
TROUTING AMONG THE COAST RANGE 
MOUNTAINS. 
Astoria, Oregon, Dee., 1879. 
A T ten o'clock of a bright starry night in June 1 
stepped aboard my skiff and the trip began. My 
baggage consisted of a well-filled lunch basket, a pair of 
blankets, elastic top rubber boots reaching to the hipB— 
for our streams must he waded—fishing tackle, includ¬ 
ing a bait box filled with salmon roe cut to the size of 
white beans, it being too early in the season to depend 
upon flies, and last, my little Wesson rifle, without which 
—an invariable rule—I never step aboard a boat. The 
fishing ground was to be the upper waters of Young’s 
River, distant fifteen miles, where at Casey’s, just below 
the falls, I was to join two friends who had started that 
morning in a sailboat. I had told them at their depart¬ 
ure that they could depend on my arriving sometime 
during the night, probably between 1 and 3 o’clock. 
Tile route was down the Columbia, close to the Oregon 
shore for a mile and a half to Smith’s Point, around the 
Point into Young’s Bay, at the head of which, two miles 
inland, was the mouth' of Young’s River. With the water 
smooth on its surface and the tide at half flood, but with 
a long heavy swell coming in from the bar, the point was 
reached in three-quarters of an hour, when just as I was 
turning the boat to run into the bay, a heavy swell sub¬ 
siding left me aground upon a large rock of whose exis¬ 
tence I was aware, hut which 1 had expected would be 
well covered at that stage of the tide. I kept my seat 
with oars ready for a stroke, hoping the next swell would 
lift me off, but as that and two or three more failed to do 
•it, t'Stepped out on the rock and pushed her into the 
water, but before I got aboard a large wave came wet¬ 
ting me to the waist and nearly tearing the boat from my 
grasp ; but I held on, and in a min ute I was back hi the 
boat, all right, except for the wetting. A few more 
strokes carried me into the hay, when, with the swell 
astern and the tide making fast, I soon reached the mouth 
•of Young’s River. A half mile in an easterly direction, 
then an abrupt turn to the south, and the course was 
straight ahead ten miles to the forks of the Klaskanine. 
At midnight I had made Some what more than half that 
•distance, when I ran into a bank of fog so thick I could 
not see a half dozen yards in any direction. I tried to 
keep on by following the eastern shore, but after a few 
minutes found I had run into one of the numerous tide- 
land sloughs which make out from the river, and being 
satisfied that it would be useless to proceed until the fog 
disappeared, I made fast tbe painter to a bunch of tulies, 
wrapped the blankets around me, and with my creel for 
a pillow lay down to wait for morning, with no sound to 
disturb my'slumbers except the occasional mournful cry 
of the blue heron and the distant booming of the break¬ 
ers on the bar. 
Waking at 4 o’clock the light was found sufficient 
to continue the journey, and though the fog was still 
thick I succeeded in following the shore, keeping a boat’s 
length from the bank until at half-past five, it being now 
daylight, the fork of the Klaskanine was reached. Here 
the river divides into two streams of about equal size, the 
left-hand fork, the Klaskanine, coming from the East, 
with Kamrn’slanding, the head of tide water, a mile dis¬ 
tant. The right fork, which keeps the name of Young’s 
River, comes from the southwest, and after a mile and a 
half more I stepped ashore at Casey’s lauding, having 
found just sufficient water on the “cut-off,” a narrow 
passage of twenty yards long, to save a mile in distance. 
A walk of two hundred yards through a meadow cov¬ 
ered with a luxuriant growth of timothy and white clo¬ 
ver, brought me to the house where I found the “ boys ” 
had just turned out and were getting their tackle ready 
for business while waiting for an early breakfast. That 
important duty having been duly attended to and each 
having placed a lunch in his pocket, we shouldered our 
twenty-pound creels, took up our rods, Alex's a Leonard, 
Sibson’s a twelve-ounce English lancewood,mine an eight- 
ounce Conroy, Bissett & Malleson, and started up the 
trail. Our plan was to do no fishing until we reached 
Tucker’s clearing, five miles above the falls; then to sea tter 
along the stream and fish down. It was 7 o’clock 
when we started; the sun had dissipated the fog and 
everything gave promise of a lovely day. We anticipat¬ 
ed fine sport, for in this country tiie trout bite best when 
llio sun shines bright, and if it is just a little warm su 
much the better. After a few minutes’ walk the trail as¬ 
cends a biff one hundred feet high, then runs along a 
narrow ledge on the side of the mountain, from which 
yon look down on the river rushing through its rocky 
gorge and plunging down into a dark pool below. The 
fall is about sixty feet and is not entire, being broken half 
way down by. a projecting ledge, from which it falls in a, 
shower of sparkling spray. The trail continues alongthe 
west side of the stream for nearly half a mile, them crosses 
on an immense spruce log twenty feet above the water. 
From this point for two miles the hills rise abruptly from 
the waters’ edge to a height of four or five hundred feet, 
their sides covered with a growth of evergreens of which 
no one who has not been in Oregon can forma conception. 
I know of many spruces from which boards could be made 
—if only mills could be found to saw them—without a 
knot or curl, ten feet wide at the butt, eight feet at the 
top, and a hundred and-fifty feet long. There is a spruce 
trunk now lying on the ground at' Nappa, from which 
twenty cords of limbs were cut, measured, and sold. 
Spruce lumber is used here for the same purpose that 
white pine is in the. East; it works a little harder, but is 
as smooth and line in texture as satin. There are two 
kinds of Ur—the red and white—not so fine in texture as 
the spruce, hut equally valuable, rivaling the oak in 
strength and durability. 
The red fir is used for ship-building. Among the lesser 
growths the salmon berry is conspicuous, being found 
everywhere through the forest. It is simply an immense 
raspberry, growing ten and twelve feet high. Its blos¬ 
soms appear in the middle of April, the time of the ar¬ 
rival of the earliest run of salmon, whence its name, and 
are like a beautiful, diminutive wild rose. Two miles 
from the falls the hills recede, and a small tract of com¬ 
paratively level laud is reached. Here there is a small 
house and a few acres of cleared kind, owned by a 
settler of the suggestive name of Toothacher. This, so 
far as I know, is the highest point ever reached by a 
fishing party, and had we wished we could easily have 
secured all the fish we wanted by beginning at this place. 
But we wished to know what the river had to offer in the 
way of pools and riffles between here and the upper clear¬ 
ing ; so we continued our tramp along the mountain trail, 
until at 9 o’clock, after what seemed to us the longest five 
miles we ever knew, a sudden turn brought us in sight of 
the end of our journey in this direction. 
Having reached our destination, we lost no time in get¬ 
ting down to business. Aleck and Sibson started down 
the stream together, while I went up a few hundred 
yards to investigate its condition at the point where it 
entered the clearing. I found a place that suited me, 
and throwing my lino beyond where a long riffle was 
losing itself in a pool overhung by alders, I drew the 
coachman and gray drake that formed iny oast, diago¬ 
nally across the' stream. Getting no response, a yellow 
hackle was put in the coachman's place and tbe trial re¬ 
peated. The hackle had scarcely touched tho water 
when there was a commotion all around it, and by tbe 
singing of the reel and the bending of the rod, I knew I 
had hooked one, and a good one, too. His first attempt 
was to reach a pile of driftwood that had collected at the 
lower end of the pool, so 1 had to snub him smartly, 
which he resented by leaping out of the water a half a 
dozen times in quick succession, then, his strength be¬ 
ginning to fail, 1 drew' him, not without an occasional 
protest, to tho grassy shore and laid him gently beside 
my creel. Applying the butt of my rod, he was found to 
measure thirteen incites, and his weight by my pocket 
scale was a pound and throe ounces. He proved to be the 
best fish caught that day. I now removed the gray drake, 
aud a scarlet ibis with wings neatly cut away was put in 
its place, and casting', I hud the satisfaction of drawing 
two at the first attempt; a half a pound to the ibis and 
-five ounces to the yellow. Continuing, I took from this 
pool twenty trout, the rest weighing from four to six 
ounces. Placing a handful of fresh grass in the bottom of 
iny creel, I laid the trout upon it, the large one at the 
top. I then started down stream, and when passing the 
house, Tucker's boy, a bright lad of a dozen years, came 
out and asked if I had come from Astoria. I told him I 
had, and lie remarked that I must want the fish pretty 
bad to come so far for them. I told him that I did ; that 
in fact I could not possibly get along without them, He 
then inquired : “'What bait do you use—salmon eggs?” 
I replied by showing him my flies. “No,”saidhe, “you 
can’t fool me; trout don’t eat feathers.” I showed him 
my catch, and asked him if be could take as large ones 
with salmon eggs as I had with “feathers.” After ex¬ 
amining the large one, he said he thought not; though 
lie had caught some nearly as large. He told me the fish¬ 
ing was much better for a mile above his home than it 
was below. This I found to be true, as for nearly three 
miles the stream flows along the edge of an extensive 
tract of bottom land, its bed in most places too sandy 
and its current too slow to suit tbe active nature of the 
“ mountain trout.” I also found that I could not do so 
well with flies as 1 had at the beginning, and often after 
trying in vain at some dark pool or rapid riffle, I would 
attach a bit of bait to the leader, and be rewarded by a 
fine fish tbe instauo the flies touched the water. 
Once in wading through a shallow pool, whose bed of 
yellow sand allowed every object to be seen with perfect 
distinctness, I made a hurried cast, and not expecting a 
rise drew the flies quickly from the water. As-I lifted 
them out a beautiful ten-inch trout made a rush for them, 
stopping within a foot of my knee, where they had dis¬ 
appeared, with every fin quivering with excitement. 
Standing motionless as the aiders ou the bank, by u. slight 
wrist movement I lowered the flies to the water immedi¬ 
ately above him. As they came within his view ho made 
a grand leap past the hackle and caught tho ibis a good 
six inches from the water, taking it, too, by a good, hon¬ 
est bite without the suspicion of an attempt to “ flop it 
into his mouth with his tail.” It was past 1 o’clock when 
I sat down to eat my lunch on a log that formed part of 
a pile of driftwood. On the sandy shore, besides the 
tracks of my companions, there were a few of deer and 
bear and many of coon and beaver, and around the log 
on which I was sitting were many sticks of alder and 
maples cut to lengths of two or three feet and neatly 
stripped of their bark, showing that here a beaver had 
taken bis lunch as I was talcing' mine. As my creel was 
getting heavy, I now fished on ly in the most attractive 
places and hurried on to overtake my companions, and 
soon turning a sharp bend I saw a large rocky pool which 
I recognized as the “ big basin.” the highest point reached 
on previous trips. Here the character of the stream un¬ 
dergoes a change—the hills come together, its course is 
obstructed by immense boulders, the descent is rapid, 
and it is the best-stocked stream and the hardest one to 
fish in of any within my knowledge. Hurrying on, a 
quarter of a mile brought me to Tootliacher’s, where in 
the shade of a spreading hemlock my friends, with well- 
filled creels, were waiting my arrival. After a half hour’s 
rest we took the trail for the lauding, which we reached 
at 5 o’clock. Placing our traps aboard, Aleck and Sib¬ 
son in the boat, her mast lowered, and with two pairs of 
oars ; I in my skiff. Having two hours left of the ebb 
wc made Smith Point just in season to catch the flood, 
and in three hours from the falls we landed at Astoria, 
and I know one of tho party was the wetest, tiredest, and 
most hungry man that ever stepped' out of a boat. 
Boston, 
—A-Norwich, Conn., bulldog took hold of a Newfound¬ 
land dog, and the latter deliberately dragged his antag¬ 
onist into the water after him and held h i m under until, 
nearly drowned, he let go. 
—At the performance of “Jesse Vere”in a London 
theatre, where a mother has a terrific combat with two 
ruffians for the possession of her child, a large Newfound¬ 
land dog that had got into the pit along with his owner, 
a steamship engineer, leaped over the orchestra and, land¬ 
ing on the Btage, seized one of the fellows, and was with 
great difficulty removed. He had been a companion of 
children. 
Jpt> 2§mml 
—We learn that Mr. Godeffroy, the owner of the Nsv- 
ersink Farm Kennels, Guymard, in Orange County, 
New York, has seemed Philip Thurtle, the breaker of 
Mr. Macdona’s famous field trial setter dog Pluhket, to 
act for him in the capacity of gamekeeper, dog-breaker, 
and kennel man. We have little doubt that with such a 
hand from the old country the Neversink kennels will 
make their mark at future field trials. 
Mr. A. H. Moore’s Kennel. —Mr. Moore writes us that 
he has already commenced rebuilding the section of his 
kennel injured by fire, aud that within three weeks it will 
be in Bhape again, 
St. Louis Kennel Club’s • Jessamine. —We noticed 
last week the arrival of this fine imported pointer bitch. 
Jessamine was whelped [in the spring of 1876, by Lord 
Downe’s Mars out of Lord Sefton’s Jilt; Mars by Garth’s 
champion Drake out of Garth’s Mite; Jilt by Lord Sefton’s 
Mat out of Lord Sefton’s Peg, etc. Mr. Pilkingtou writes 
that Jessamine was the pick of Lord Sefton’s kennel; 
she is litter sister to Mr. Pilkington’B JiIt,V. H. C., at the 
late Birmingham show'; she is in whelp to Mr. Pilking- 
ton's Garnet and is due to whelp on the 37th of the pres¬ 
ent month. 
The Dogs op Great Britain.— In the last financial year 
there were in Great Britain, 111,870 dogs licensed at 5s., 
and 1,051,513 at 7s. and 6d., a total of 1,163,373 dogs. The 
tax is payable on the 1st of January, no matter when the 
license was obtained. 
Bear Dogs. —A correspondent living at Clifton Forge, 
Va., writes us that Mr. Arch. Tolley', who lives in the Blue 
Ridge Mountains, and has killed more bears than any 
other hunter in that vicinity, prefers the common fox¬ 
hound, crossed with'about one-fourth shepherd. These 
dogs will nip the hear from behind and hold the bear 
until the hunter can come up ; or, if the bear is a young 
one, they will always force it to “ tree.” 
Mr. Garret Roach’s Kennel,— One of the choice 
kennels in the vicinity of New York is that of Mr, Garret 
Roach, at College Point, L. I. Mr. Roach has now on 
hand over twenty fine bred pointers and setters, notice¬ 
ably Lady Gordon, the black and tan setter, winner of 
first prize at St. Louis in 1878 ; second prize at same place 
aud y r ear in the open class ; first prize at New York last 
year ; first prize at Philadelphia in 1879, and also winner 
of the special silver tankard prize in same city. The well 
known pointer bitch Queen II. is also of this kennel. It 
will be remembered she took first prize in the puppy 
class at New York in 1877. Another first prize dog is 
the fine young black and tan setter bitch Nancy Lee, 
■winner in the puppy class at Now York last year. We 
frequently hear of large litters, but it is seldom that two 
oocur in one kennel within a few months of each other. 
This happened to the above two first named bitches ; Lady 
Gordon, on .June 3d, 1879, whelped seventeen puppies, 
eleven dogs and six bitolies, by Don Juan, All the pup¬ 
pies were remarkably healthy. On Sept. 31st, 1879, Queen 
II. whelpod thirteen puppies (liver and white), nine dogs 
and four hitches, by Champion Sensation, all fine, healthy 
aud full of life. All these dogs are too well known to be 
further particularized. 
The Cooptown Kennel Club— Extracted [from the 
unpublished adventures of John Doe and Richard Roe— 
sportsmen :— 
“ But groat was the exoitement when our two friends 
started the Cooptown Kennel Club' and incarcerated in 
the old barn the germs of hope and promise, The village 
was on the tip-toe of wonder and delight, which trans¬ 
ports, however, after two sleepless nights, were some¬ 
what modified. A town meeting was held at the store, 
the kennel voted a nuisance by universal consent, and its 
two.founders su mm oned before the Squire to show cause 
why J,lie diabolical barks and howls should not oease. In 
due course tho two martyrs to successful propagation 
put in au appearance, but, as both gentlemen had lost 
their voices 1 a holleren o' flights, 1 they were unable to 
communicate with tho .powers that were. The upshot 
was, the Squire at last said in his most dignified tone ;— 
‘Iaint much for staying awake of nights, aud the fiat 
has gone forth ; the consumed kitinel must stop, or that 
there pack of hounds made to jist shut up,' 
“ As necessity compels invention, so it was that Rich¬ 
ard Roe came to the fore and averted the devestation that 
threatened to end ‘those good times in the future,’ which 
are always treasured up at so great a premium, and 
which, it is a thousand to one, are never realized.” 
“It was indeed Dick, who first applied clock-work to 
the phonograph, in the shape of a ‘ cussing 1 attachment 
for kennel use. After the machine had been interviewed, 
and the attachment returned from a visit to the railway 
station, where it had been sent to hear folks miss trains, 
it was beautiful to hear tbe thing work when hung up 
for the night in the bam, Every ten minutes,.out would 
come : ‘ By thunder ! wat er ’bout ?'—‘ You, Sir Percy, 
jist shet tip I ‘ Toe-foe, down eh-e-a-rge 1 ’— 1 Git! now 
git!’—‘ To your bed, Clarine 1'— 1 You Fide ! dry up ! ’— 
‘ Shet yer month, the whole lot on yer 1 ’—‘ Hero Watch, 
sickum Watch! — Wat er ’bout? ’ etc,” 
