THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 267 
riffles on both bait and spinners, but at times when the former fail a 
sunken fly can be used to good advantage. 
There are three kinds of salmon that enter the stream as soon as 
the fall rains raise the water enough to permit them to cross the shallow 
and wide riffles near the mouth. The Chinooks and Silversides (coho) 
are sought by most anglers, but at times the Jacks (quinnat) afford 
fine sport and they strike the spoon very freely. 
About seven miles upstream are the Nehalem Falls, It is below these 
that most of the salmon are caught. They are taken by casting in the 
deep pools below the falls or by letting the current spin the spoon at 
the head of some likely looking pool. Where the river is wide a boat 
may be used either casting from it anchored in mid-stream or by trolling. 
When there is a heavy run in the river it is not uncommon for a good 
caster to land a dozen or more fine specimen in a single day. 
The fall of 1915 my brother and I made a trip to the lower river, 
but we were a little too early. It being a very dry season the fall rains 
had not raised the water to the proper stage for the salmon to enter. 
Consequently we found practically no salmon in the river at this date 
(October 15). A heavy rain came soon after we left, and during the 
latter part of the month there was a heavy run in the river. Three 
Upper Valley anglers fishing the pools below the falls caught ninety 
Silversides in less than a week’s time, 
Referring to the size of our largest one brings to my mind that 
seemingly ever true saying, ‘‘The largest fish in the stream is yet to 
be caught.’’ Our third day in camp was dark and cloudy. We were 
fishing the white water to avoid taking small fish. On coming to a 
place where the stream is divided by a long narrow rock island I began 
fishing on the large part carrying about two-thirds of the river’s flow, 
my brother fishing the small part, which is a stream about twenty-five 
- feet wide. At this point it has a bank five feet high, covered with a 
heavy growth of fern and grass with overhanging brush, drooping to 
the water. <A partly submerged log lying across the channel forced 
most of the water to the high bank and under the overhanging brush. 
My brother, placing. his number nine boots on the log, allowed the 
current to carry his spinner under the brush into a little eddy at the 
far side of the stream. I glanced over and taught sight of a silver 
spray about forty feet below the log on which he stood. His rod was 
humped like the back of an angry cat, and the tip was quiverying and 
shaking like a schoolboy attempting his first declamation. From my 
position I had a good view of the fish, while my brother was deprived 
of that privilege by the overhanging brush. One minute later I observed 
him examining the broken shank of a No. 10 hook, and then mutter 
something about it ‘‘serving him right for buying cheap hooks.’’ 
Next morning he did not feel well, so I made a trip to town and 
got him some medicine. On my return he suggested that I go and fish 
from the end of the submerged log. For his satisfaction I made the 
three-mile walk through a drizzling rain, but was unable to attract his 
old friend by my best offerings. 
My brother has resolved to return in the future and catch a twenty- 
four inch trout from the pool at the submerged log. It is plain to me 
that he thinks he holds an unexpired option on that speckled king. 
To complete the fishing season we find the Steelheads (Salmo rivu- 
laris) entering The Nehalem along about mid-winter. Some authorities 
elass this New Year visitor as a salmon, while others prefer to call 
them a trout, which seems to be the most suitable and best adapted 
name, When a good sized one is hooked he will not be long in eonvine- 
