SEA TROUT GALORE. 
GOLD DUST. 
During a great blizzard which extended 
, over the entire country East of the Rock- 
ies, a friend and I were in camp on the 
banks of New river. New river is 40 miles 
North of Wilmington, North Carolina, and 
for 25 miles is a tide water stream varying 
in width from one to 5 miles, and in depth 
from one to 35 feet. 
The population of the surrounding coun- 
try is composed almost wholly of that class 
of whites known in the South as Crackers, 
and of a low type of negro. All the people 
living near the river are fishermen, but they 
also plant a little land with corn, cotton 
and sweet potatoes. 
The blizzard, which they term in the 
South a “freeze,” lasted from February 
oth to 15th. Snow fell to the depth of 8 
inches, accompanied by a severe Northern 
gale, and the oldest inhabitants said it was 
the longest and most severe freeze they 
could remember. The temperature fell to 
zero during the night of the 11th, and ice 
formed in many places on the river to the 
depth of 4 inches. Though the people suf- 
fered extremely from eold they were jubi- 
lant over the prospect of a large catch of 
fish, as the freezing of the river killed the 
fish that were in shallow water. 
New river and White Oak river are 
known throughout the South as the best 
feeding grounds for mullet. Sea trout 
come ‘up both rivers with the tide to feed 
on mullet, their principal food. 
Matt and Ben Taylor, 2 old fishermen, 
suggested that we join forces with them 
and take part in the grand scramble for 
trout as soon as the river broke up. That 
occurred during the night of February 
15th. 
The next morning we were astir bright 
and early. We set out for the river, tak- 
ing an axe to break our way to clear wa- 
ter. After a hard struggle we succeeded in 
floating the boats, and were the first fish- 
ermen on the scene. The sudden change 
from cold to warm weather broke the ice 
and caused heavy fog. 
After rowing a half mile or so up stream 
we saw dead trout floating on the surface; 
then the fun began. We had been out but 
a short time when the wind changed from 
South to Southwest and lifted the fog.. 
When we were seen at work gathering the 
harvest of trout, boats were pushed out 
from every point. In a few minutes it 
seemed as if the entire population was on 
the river. A general scramble ensued as to 
who should gather most of the harvest. 
These harvests of fish occur only once in 
172 
4 or 5 years, and then last only -a few 
hours; and all manner of craft are im- 
pressed into use. The women, both white 
and black, take a hand with the men. 
To add to the excitement and our great 
discomfort, a heavy Northwesterly wind 
sprang up, blowing almost a gale. By 
that time we had our boat full to the gun- 
wale. Being in the middle of the river, it 
was a question whether we could reach the 
shore with our cargo or would be obliged 
to throw it overboard to keep from swamp- 
ing. Each heavy sea broke over us and 
added a bucketful or more of water to that 
already in the boat. 
While Matt handled the oars I bailed 
in double quick time with an immense 
gourd. We succeeded after tremendous 
effort in reaching the float ice along the 
shore, but here our troubles really began. 
Our boat was so heavily loaded that the 
gunwhale was but little above the surface 
of the water. The waves dashed the heavy 
ice against.us until we expected the next 
swell would send us to the bottom. Matt, 
after great difficulty, brought the boat suffi- 
ciently near the shore to allow us to jump 
overboard; then taking hold of the gun- 
wale we drew the boat in to land. 
On counting our fish we found we had 
a few over 500, weighing 2'%4 to 13 pounds; 
averaging about 4 pounds each. 
My friend and his fishing partner, Ben, 
were not so fortunate as Matt and I. They 
secured only about half a boatload of trout, 
but they escaped the exciting experience 
we had in making land and came in dry 
and warm. Matt and I were soaked to the 
skin with icy salt water. We were just 5 
hours filling our boat and making land. 
All trout caught in the river are iced, 
packed in barrels, and shipped to New 
York and Philadelphia where they usually 
bring 12 to 15 cents a pound; but owing 
to the thousands of fish caught during that 
“numb,” and to a combination between the 
fish buyers, fishermen on the river were 
obliged to sell their fish for almost nothing. 
Seven cents was the highest price paid for 
any; and we were fortunate in selling ours 
for that. A great many fish were sold for 
3 and 4 cents, and some as low as 2 cents 
each. 
The salt water trout of the South resem- 
bles in form the landlocked salmon, and 
in color the California brown trout. The 
flesh before cooking has the pink color 
of the brook trout and is like it when 
cooked, being delicious in flavor, and ex- 
ceedingly rich. 
NS 
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