FISHING IN THE OLYMPICS. 



BYRON THELPS. 



I am heartily in accord with you in your 

 war on the wanton destruction of fish and 

 game. You may be a little rough and di- 

 rect sometimes in your condemnation, yet 

 why not call things by the right name? 

 You have done a vast good. I have, my- 

 self, been educated by your articles on the 

 unnecessary taking of fish. Though I can't 

 catch enough to be classed as a fish hog, 

 you have taught me to make better use of 

 those I do get and to let the wee ones 

 go. Enclosed I sent you a photograph of 

 one of my catches of which I am indeed 

 proud. Each of these fellows was relished 

 by my friends and myself, who received 

 them fresh and cool. 



Early in August Dr. Miller, of San Jose, 

 Cal. ; Professor Tucker, of the Lick Obser- 

 vatory ; General Carr, of Seattle, and I, 

 with our excellent cook and camp mana- 

 ger, Charles Johnson, went to one of the 

 many beautiful streams in the Olympic 

 mountains for a 10 days' fishing and camp- 

 ing trip. After walking a mountain trail 

 16 miles from Hood's canal, we arrived at 

 the only habitation within that distance, 

 Captain Le Bar's ranch, where we made 

 headquarters. 



Such fishing and such scenery can not be 

 fully described. Our trail was through the 

 matchless forests of Washington, the gigan- 

 tic firs and cedars towering 300 feet above 

 us; here and there a glimpse of the glitter- 

 ing snow peaks, with the ever present roar 

 and splash of a mountain stream. Every- 

 thing was in a state of nature ; not a tree 

 cut nor a sign of man other than the trail 

 and an occasional blaze on a tree. 



Before any of us had made a cast, the 

 General said, 



"See here, boys ; it's hard to resist taking 

 a trout whenever one rises. At the same 

 time we don't want Recreation to cartoon 

 us as fish hogs; so let us resolve to take 

 care of and make use of every trout 

 caught." 



To this we assented, and agreed to put 

 back the little ones. The first afternoon 

 they rose freely. Such sparkling water, so 

 clear, so pure, so cold ; and such rainbows ! 

 Our baskets were full. Those less than 



16 inches long we ate; and during the 

 whole time we carefully cleaned, smoked, 

 and dried all above 16 inches. The lar- 

 gest ones measured 20 inches. Each day. 



A DAY WITH ROD AND FLY. 



at some time or other, these lungers would 

 come at us. The last day the Professor 

 made us one of the best of fish chowders. 



When we returned to everyday, hum- 

 drum we each had about 15 as well cured 

 trout as ever one saw, to the delight of our 

 friends, who found them a dainty relish. 



The best flies were gray and brown 

 hackle, professor and royal coachman. 

 Bear, deer, and cougar tracks were plenti- 

 ful, but we did not see any animals on the 

 trip. 



We passed our evenings in a spirit of 

 real thankfulness, talking over the day, 

 planning for the morrow, cpiizzing the Pro- 

 fessor about his astronomy and the stars, 

 listening to the General snore, discussing 

 the fish hog question as presented by Rec- 

 reation, and smoking our fisih. The Doc- 

 tor and I did not agree on expansion, con- 

 traction, or anything else, except to make 

 this and other similar trips, to which we 

 invite the editor of Recreation. The Doc- 

 tor argues for the click of his winding reel, 

 while I, with my automatic, call him a fogy. 

 He insists on playing a fish as long as he 

 can ; I land mine as quickly as I can. He 

 says I'm no sportsman ; I tell him he is a 

 savage. 



"Some doctors claim that kisses," said 

 the young man, taking another bunch of 

 them, "are full of microbes." 



"Yes," replied the bright girl; "but sci- 

 entists tell us also that microbes may be 

 frozen into perfect harmlessness by the 

 speedy application of extreme cold — ice- 

 cream, for instance." — Philadelphia Press. 

 439 



