42 



RECREATION. 



stocked are Lakes Joseph, Muskoka, 

 Couchiching, Simcoe, and the Kawartha 

 lakes. Though the fishing in all these 

 waters has been good in the past, the lover 

 of the rod and the amateur angler will be 

 assured now of unlimited sport in any of 

 these districts. 



BLACK BASS IN EVERGLADE STREAMS. 



Miami, Fla. 

 Editor Recreation : 



Have you ever fished in Bay Biscayne? 

 I know of no other place that has such a 

 great variety of deep sea fishing. With 

 sloops, schooners, or naphtha launches, we 

 reach the ocean in about 2 hours, and in 

 ordinary circumstances capture, with rod 

 and reel or by troll, Spanish mackerel, 

 kingfish, ocean groupers, redsnappers, am- 

 ber jack, baracuda, sharks and other name- 

 less sea monsters. Sometimes I tire of this 

 heavy fishing, and take great delight in 

 angling in the sweet waters of the Ever- 

 glades. 



The 3d of April, as I was coming down 

 through the rapids at the head of Miami 

 river, I met a gentleman standing on the 

 deck of a naphtha launch. He was throw- 

 ing a spoon and taking a mudfish or 2. I 

 came alongside and said to him, "Why 

 don't you try a fly close to the bank, and 

 take a good black bass?" Suiting the action 

 to the word, I made a cast and almost in- 

 stantly I had a bass hooked. Then I tried 

 the other bank, with a similar result. I 

 turned the fish into the boat, where there 

 were 60 bass lying snug. Turning to his 

 companion, the stranger said, "Kick me, 

 and do it quick !" 



The next morning while I was at break- 

 fast, I was told a gentleman wished to see 

 me at the door. I there found Mr. War- 

 ren, of St. Louis, the gentleman of the 

 launch, who had come to invite me to take 

 a trip to Arch creek with him. I consent- 

 ed, and after a sail of 12 miles up Biscayne 

 bay we arrived at the mouth of the stream. 

 This creek is one of the streams flowing 

 from the Everglades and derives its name 

 from a small stone arch under which one 

 must bend low, even in a small rowboat. 

 At the mouth of the creek is a beautiful 

 natural wooded arch, formed by the 

 branches of trees united, that stand on each 

 bank. In passing through, we saw an im- 

 mense alligator lying on a sunken log. Our 

 ground was reached after we had passed 

 under the low arch. With the boat resting 

 on the bank, Mr. Warren, Dr. Francis, of 

 Starke, Fla., and I landed 455 black bass, 

 all within 2]/ 2 hours, and all caught on a 

 little white fly. 



There is a little trick about that style of 

 fishing. You may cast the fly in the mid- 

 dle of the stream and rarely get a strike ; 

 but represent a fly jumping from the bank 



into the water, and a whole bunch of fish 

 are springing for it. For variety's sake 

 add another fly, or even 2, and behold the 

 water boil when you capture 3 bass. Many 

 of the fish are of good size and many are 

 small, but all are gamy. There was not a 

 lazy hair on the head of one. 



"Oh, Mr. Gladwin!" said a lady friend 

 when she saw the catch ; "how could you 

 be so cruel as to kill all those beautiful 

 fish !" I answered, "I wished to punish 

 them for their wicked designs on a poor, 

 innocent fly." A. R. Gladwin. 



If you must keep on fishing why not 

 turn the fish back into the water as fast as 

 you take them from the fly? Why slaugh- 

 ter? Why not be decent? — Editor. 



AN OREGON VISITOR. 



Portland, Oregon. 

 Editor Recreation : 



Early last summer I took a short trip 

 over the Northern Pacific to a point about 

 20 miles from Portland, to try my hand at 

 trout fishing on Scappoose creek. I was 

 met at the station by my brother-in-law, 

 Geo. R., and driven to his farm, about 2 

 miles from the station, where I spent the 

 night. After an early breakfast the next 

 morning, we started, with Ame S., for the 

 mountains to the West of the Columbia 

 river. 



We went about 5 miles from the farm 

 before commencing to whip the stream. 

 Then we fished downstream, George in the 

 lead, I next, and Ame last. George soon 

 got out of sight and hearing, and I was 

 some distance from Ame. I had just made 

 a beautiful cast at the foot of a riffle, had 

 a rise and hooked my fish, when I was 

 startled by an unearthly yell from Ame, 

 followed by a terrific crashing through the 

 underbrush and a loud kerplunk, as of a 

 heavy body striking the water. Ame's yell- 

 ing continued, intermingled with an occa- 

 sional gurgle and sputter, as if he had swal- 

 lowed a large section of the creek. I 

 dropped rod, reel, fish and all and rushed 

 to his assistance. I found him floundering 

 in the creek up to his armpits, and so bad- 

 ly frightened and choked he could not talk 

 intelligently. 



After fishing him out and dosing him 

 with a liberal quantity of snakebite remedy, 

 I was able to get a partially lucid statement 

 of what it was all about. He had been 

 fishing from a big log lying across the 

 stream over a pool. While casting, and 

 dreaming of the big ones he was about to 

 catch, he heard something scratching at the 

 end of the log on which he stood. Look- 

 ing to see what it was, he found himself 

 face to face with a large black bear. Ame 

 cleft the atmosphere with a yell several 



