THE PROFESSOR AND THE LAND OWNER.* 



E. J. MYERS. 



It was a quaint conceit which made Pro- 

 fessor Lawmaker turn his back on Labra- 

 dor and Salmo Salar, Newfoundland and 

 sea trout, Lac Saint Jean and ouananiche, 

 Nipissing and black bass, Nepigon and 

 speckled trout. On all those waters, far 

 and widely famed, had this veteran angled ; 

 yet he bade his favorite henchman and 

 guide meet him where the salt waters of 

 the Susquehanna dammed up the fresh wa- 

 ters. Tomas dela Roche-Rouge, with the 

 favorite Montignais birch bark canoe. The 

 Professor was crochetty and peculiar in 

 everything relating to angling, from rod 

 to canoe and trom fly to guide. In his es- 

 timation the canoe had an individuality ; 

 each rod had a peculiar killing quality ; 

 every reel had a special property that no 

 other similar article, owned by any other 

 human being, possessed. These had the 

 Professor ordered in his service to help 

 him kill a few fingerling trout and bass, to 

 the utter disgust and contempt of the 

 courcur des bois. 



Tomas of the Red Rock ! Coureur des 

 bois, voyageur, half breed, all tending to 

 the Indian, harking back to the savage that 

 fought in his veins for mastery. House 

 servant for the clergyman of the Mission, 

 clerk to the H. B. C. factor, Carlisle school 

 graduate; these gave him education, savoir 

 faire, and polished manners ; but when un- 

 rest seized him, when the fit was on him, 

 when, like Sintram, he wrestled with his 

 moods, then the ancestor was greater than 

 the scion ; heredity was stronger than en- 

 vironment, and the tepee and the lean-to 

 drew him with irresistible power from the 

 dwelling house in the city and drove him to 

 untrodden forest paths and trackless water 

 ways that stretched upward to the Height 

 of Land ! These instincts drove him to 

 the reservation and thence to the forest ; 

 then crossed his brow with the pack strap 

 and rejoiced him to portage the canoe with 

 the voyagcurs, sick or well. They made 

 him all content to eat at the camp fire, 

 squatting on his haunches like a dog. In- 

 tuitions taught him the North point by the 

 moss on the tree, or on the scarred, seamy, 

 bleak rocks ; or the Southward way by the 

 crowded branchward side of the tree, or 

 the thick underbrush, or the blossom be- 

 hind the trunk or knoll. These were but 

 the needle of his compass. 



Equally the sharp, keen air betrayed the 

 Eastern way, as the soft, balmy zephyr 

 told him it blew from the Westward cave 

 of the winds ; and cloud drift, nodding 

 tree top, or drift on the water told the 

 wind's direction. Shrill chirp of insect, 

 song of bird, forest cries were but the 

 sound of his timepiece telling the hour of 



the day. The morrow's heat and calm, or 

 showers or storm, were foretold by insect, 

 shriek of bird or beast, and at dawn and 

 sunset by the color of sky. All these 

 served as his barometer. 



The ice breaking in the far North, the 

 first flight of the water fowl, the first bud- 

 ding of shrub and tree, filled his being 

 with wild unrest and drove beyond concep- 

 tion all thought of thrift and industrial 

 pursuit to abide in the tepee. Forest kin ! 

 What wonder the season's touch made the 

 veneer of civilization peel, leaving the ab- 

 origine stark, unclad and unsoiled. 



As the canoe passed up the river and left 

 tide waters far behind, the Professor 

 chafed to see the multitudinous notices 

 posted, "Fishing prohibited in these wa- 

 ters." "Trespassers will be punished to 

 the extent of the law." 



"Well, well," meditated the old sports- 

 man, "they'll soon shut us out from the 

 running waters and make us live on the 

 memories of the past. No one with a grain 

 of legal sense posted that notice !" 



"Hold up, Tomas, let us try the bridge." 

 The canoe shot under, then turned out to 

 the middle of the stream. On one bank, 

 just below the bridge, the Professor had 

 noticed a large lake with a narrow outlet 

 into the river, and intended to drop back 

 to where it ran into the main river. 



Out flew the flies, lengthening casts, and 

 back drifted the canoe. One or two un- 

 successful rises made the Professor change 

 his flies without avail and the canoe, skil- 

 fully handled, drifted down the stream un- 

 til, as if divining the Professor's intent, 

 Tomas made fast the birch bark to the 

 bridge just above where it showed that 

 the ice had scarred the structure and cut a 

 deeper hole for a pool in the river, above 

 the outlet of the lake. 



Mark the Professor's dry casting as the 

 flies fluttered and hovered over the water, 

 barely, if at all, touching the surface, 

 tempting the trout to leap out of the wa- 

 ters for the elusive wings that seemed all 

 too real and alive even for the human eye. 



Tomas, with supreme indifference and 

 probably in anticipatory disgust and con- 

 tempt for the outcome involving a trout so 

 small that the Professor would land it on 

 the 4 ounce rod without a net, and thou 

 carefully put it back into the water, took 

 out his pipe and lit it for a long smoke and 

 perhaps a nap while the Professor idled 

 the time away. 



*This story — may I say this legal opinion— was ■ 

 by Mr, Myers in response to several questions from one 

 of my readers as to the rights of the public to fish in 

 streams running through private lands, etc. — Fditor. 



89 



