98 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 



to the point where they are hardly distinguishable from the in- 

 testines. Probably they strike the eggs in a vicious desire to 

 mutilate and rid themselves of unwelcome fish babies in the 

 embryo who have dared to invade their particular spawning 

 water. But even though such may be the case, I know from my 

 own experience that steelheads in the White Salmon have been 

 taken on a grasshopper bait, which would seem to explode that 

 theory, and the fact that the anadromous Rogue river fish, which 

 does not feed in fresh water, eagerly strikes a gaudy fly in the 

 summer and fall, renders it still more perplexing. 



There are two recognized seasons or periods during the year 

 when steelheads can be taken in the Eogue. The upper river 

 yields fish from as early as the middle of June clear through the 

 summer and late into October, while on the stream below Grants 

 Pass the steelheads will not strike before probably the first of 

 September. It was' my good fortune last year to make one of a 

 party of three who spent several days in July on the famous 

 stream, at "French's," some seventeen miles from Medford. 



Our excursion properly began — the enchanting part of it at 

 any rate — when we emerged from our rather cramped sleeping 

 quarters on a southbound Southern Pacific train to find ourselves 

 weaving in and out through the very heart of a magnificent 

 broken hill country, sprinkled with fine fir, cedar and hemlock, 

 and covered underneath with a mixed growth of laurel, chapar- 

 ral, manzanita, and great ferns. If our fishing ardor cooled 

 during the hot night in proportion as our temper and our tem- 

 perature ascended while tossing in those stuffy berths, the fresh- 

 ness and beauty of that morning in Cow Creek canyon, with the 

 click of the rails marking off the rapidly decreasing distance 

 from our mecca, caused that ardor to re-ascend to a much higher 

 level. 



It is experiences such as these which adcl to fishing excur- 

 sions their inexplicable charm. It is this full appreciation and 

 enjoyment of the lovely bounties of God's great big out-of-doors 

 which endears to the fisherman his hobby. Perhaps he himself 

 doesn't fully realize this. At least he doesn't stop to analyze it. 

 But be he at heart a true fisherman, then unconsciously will he 

 drink in the wholesome, happy, healthful influence of open sky 

 and trees and sunshine— the songs of birds — the perfume of fra- 



