SULLIVAN COUNTY TROUT 



295 



and try his luck. Four miles from Mama- 

 kating he can get trout-fishing; west of the 

 Hudson River and with the Catskills almost 

 in sight, he can find trout-fishing right on 

 the Brook wood Lodge farm. At Rock Hill 

 there are four trout-streams, stocked. Only 

 a half-mile from Ellenville trout may be 

 found; and also at Haven. A dozen rather 

 unsatisfactory streams may be reached from 

 Monticello. All this is, however, only a hint 

 of what lies beyond. Let not the reader be 

 deluded with promises of taking trout in the 

 Neversink River — a perfect stream for beau- 

 ty and wildness, but lacking trout. Beware 

 of him who promises fine bass, pickerel and 

 trout-fishing in lakes. One lake near Lib- 

 erty furnishes pickerel — but we want the 

 Salvelinus jontinalis. Let the bearer of fish 

 tales fail to lure you north of Liberty to 

 streams that he will say swarm with trout; 

 they will not materialize, it being -a "bad 

 day; water too high, good fishing here yes- 

 terday, or last year, or will be, etc., etc." 



But beyond Liberty things get interest- 

 ing for the angler. Plenty of small trout 

 may be found by writing the postmaster at 

 Parksville to engage a guide who knows 

 some of the special haunts of trout in sev- 

 eral small streams that flow into the Beaver- 

 kill. Better, let him write to Livingston 

 Manor. I know several fine trout-streams 

 within a few miles of this place; but the 

 native guide who watches the trout month 

 by month is the man to whom the angler 

 should turn in trust. He will show you where 

 to go, and for his single day of service you 

 will bless the wise expenditure of a couple 

 of dollars because of the knowledge that he 

 imparts. "Get next" to the native who 

 knows, and will show you — for money. I 

 might mention some of these guides; but 

 this is not an advertising article. The man 

 who really seeks trout-fishing can easily find 

 them by mail. 



A boat trip down the Willowemoc from 

 the Manor will furnish exquisite views 

 of as handsome a river as lies under 

 the • sky, and very large trout rise to 

 flies there — but so few and wary I The 

 region is "fished to death"; one should get 

 wise through his paid guide, who will take 

 him to smaller streams and plenty of smaller 

 fish. The country is fairly gridironed with 

 these runlets and brooks, and the man who 



lives near them knows: you will not know, 

 and cannot hope to follow the somewhat 

 shifting locations of the trout. At Lew 

 Beach or Parkston postofiices, men may 

 be had who will part with their knowledge 

 for a dollar or two — and work and show you 

 how to roast trout that will be good enough 

 for a king. 



My own choice was Rockland, with the 

 Campbell House as a base. The Willo- 

 wemoc and Beaverkill proper join about a 

 mile below. Here Louis Rhead, of trout 

 and bass book fame, was an enthusiastic 

 angler; and poor W. C. Harris loved to fish 

 off the bridge just where the East Branch of 

 the Willowemoc joined across the line into 

 Delaware County. 



There are several famous trout-pools 

 where the Beaverkill enters the Willowemoc 

 near Roscoe. Every trout landed there will 

 be a good one; yet Mr. Rhead sometimes 

 fished for days without getting even a rise — 

 and enjoyed every minute. But he brought 

 several splendid trout to the hotel. 



This paragraph is for the expert who 

 thinks he knows trout lures and how to cast 

 them. Let him stop at the Campbell House 

 in Roscoe (or Rockland) the night of April 

 15, and fish on the Willowemoc the next 

 day — ascertaining whether the big trout are 

 to be seen yet — up at the dam, two miles 

 north, in a valley visible from the porch of 

 the hotel. 



In its own way, no fairer view anywhere 

 than that from the porch of the Campbell 

 House — right in front, reaching to the crests 

 all afire in morning sunrise. No words are 

 delicate, tender or rich enough to describe 

 that viewl 



Two miles north, in a well-known pool to 

 which any boy can lead the angler, five big 

 trout lived and showed themselves for years. 

 They may be there yet. The writer prides 

 himself on being a past grandmaster of trout 

 lures. White Miller flies of various shapes and 

 modifying tints for night work, Beaver- 

 kills, live mice, grasshoppers, common red 

 rags, beetles, butterflies of black and brown, 

 flutterers, humming bird imitations — these 

 were cast for days and days and nights and 

 nights over those five wary troutships, and 

 with no result except a lazy rise and flaps of 

 the tail; and all five would face me, grinning 

 if ever trout grinned, not thirty feet away, 



