124 



RECREA TION. 



off we saw 3 more cows and 2 calves. We 

 wanted meat alone, as it would have been 

 impossible to pack antlers; so, drawing 

 lots for the shot, we knocked over the 

 yearling bull. Cutting off as much of the 

 meat as we could carry, we blazed trees in 

 the neighborhood, so Brown could find the 

 game. 



The remaining elk did not appear to 

 mind us or the shot; several being still 

 in sight when we turned back. 



Brown was surprised and pleased at our 

 good fortune. I very much doubt if he 

 knew the elk were there; although if he 

 did not, it was a strange coincidence. As 

 it was too late to make the Hoh that night, 

 we spread our blankets in a hay-mow, on 

 a small flat near the creek, and enjoyed 



well earned repose. On the morrow we 

 reached the Hoh without particular in- 

 cident. 



There we found a picturesque Indian vil- 

 lage, peopled with the finest looking Si- 

 washes we had seen; though not many of 

 them would have taken prizes in a beauty 

 show. One of the head men, Hoh William, 

 treated us very generously indeed. He was 

 a good Samaritan after the miserable little 

 scamp on the Queeto. 



I asked Hoh William if he ever ate shags; 

 to which he replied: " Yes, they are just as 

 good as crow or cranes; " a statement we 

 were unable to contradict. 



As curiosity and a desire to rest kept us 

 several days at the mouth of the Hoh, I 

 will leave the 3 tramps there for the present. 



FISHING IN THE MOUNTAINS OF MARYLAND. 



L. L. LITMAN. 



Early one morning, in August last, our 

 party drove out toward the mountains. 

 We were 2 sisters, a brother-in-law and I, 

 and were leaving the hot and dusty city 

 for a cooler atmosphere, and a few days' 

 bass fishing. Our destination was Friends- 

 ville, Maryland. We took advantage of the 

 morning to make the drive of 28 miles. 

 The horses seemed as anxious to be going 

 as we were, for they trotted to the foot of 

 the mountain, 3 miles distant, at a 3 minute 

 gait. For the next hour the road took a 

 winding course up Chestnut ridge, a spur 

 of the Allegheny mountains, for a distance 

 of 3 miles, to the summit. 



Here we stopped for a breathing spell, 

 and to look back over the valley, 1,000 feet 

 below. Then down, and up, until we had 

 gone 17 miles over the old National road. 

 This was built by the Government, in 1818, 

 and until 1852 was the highway for trade, 

 and the mails, between the East and the 

 West. Henry Clay, Jackson, Harrison, 

 Polk and other distinguished men were 

 familiar figures to dwellers along the road, 

 in their time. Fort Necessity, and the 

 grave of General Braddock, may be seen 

 from the roadside. 



At length, we saw the river hills, then 

 in the valley below the Raging " Yough," 

 wending its way through the little village 

 of Friendsville. Away beyond a white 

 speck nestled among the giant oaks and 

 maples. It was our summer home. We 

 were soon pleasantly settled in our cot- 

 tage, and then followed golden days of fish- 

 ing and of rest. 



The Youghiogheny is here a mountain 

 Stream, clear, and pure; its waters, rushing 



and tumbling over a rocky bed, make a 

 perfect home for black bass. I had the 

 good fortune to spend several weeks of 

 last summer along this stream, fishing 

 when the spirit moved me, and it moved 

 me often. Having the advantage of being 

 able to wait for the best weather and water, 

 I caught enough bass for our table at Bear 

 creek. 



My experience does not warrant an at- 

 tempt to advise any particular time to fish 

 in the Youghiogheny, for I have taken 

 bass there in May, June, July, August, Sep- 

 tember, and October. However, if I had 

 but 2 weeks of the summer to spare, I 

 should choose August. Being «but one of 

 a number who fish this stream, I should 

 judge that hundreds, and perhaps thou- 

 sands of bass were taken from it, each sum- 

 mer. 



One should not go there expecting to 

 fill his creel in an hour, or even in a day. 

 Bass are plentiful enough, however, for 

 anglers who are after real sport and who 

 are not out to kill as many fish as possible. 



There are 2 sides to most fishing excur- 

 sions: the bright and the dark. The bright 

 begins days or weeks before the date of the 

 contemplated trip. You go to bed each 

 night thinking, and may be dreaming of it. 

 Fishing clothes, minnows, and lunch are 

 finally made ready, the night before the 

 start, to be picked up when you are called 

 in the morning. An early start is every- 

 thing, for that is when the fish are feeding 

 and are most likely to bite. As you wend 

 your way through the field, and up the 

 river, the bracing air, the picturesque sur- 

 roundings, the thought of eating your 



