264 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



away far north to the farthest limits of Maine and Canada, 

 and even penetrate that unbroken forest where the broad Ni- 

 pigon pours down its stream to the northern -waters of Su- 

 perior. 



If there were any necessity for journeys such as these, in- 

 volving invariably large outlays both of time and money, we 

 ■were unfortunate indeed; but the reason for them mainly 

 exists in the imaginaiions of those who condemn the sport- 

 ing _ facilities of" their neighborhood, without, very often, 

 having tried them. True sportsmen, whose aspiring minds 

 make them long to chase buffaloes and to be chased "by griz- 

 zly bears, must follow the advice of the lamented founder of 

 the Tribune and "go West ;" but those of a more reasonable 

 disposition am find all that they w T ant in the shape of game 

 -without the tremendous journeys that some think unavoid- 

 able. To be sure, one canr.o' kill so many quail in Jersey as 

 he can in North Carolina, nor will the trout that he catches in 

 Pennsylvania approach in size their magnificent brethren of 

 British America. But if the birds are scarcer, the skill needed 

 to make a good bag is more justly an object of honest pride, 

 and hackles earn prizes in our own beautiful mountain 

 streams as surely as beneath the gloomy pines of Canada. 

 The truth of the whole matter is, that in this coun! ry,w 7 here we 

 do everything at a pace that kills, and on a scale so mflgnifi- 

 cently large that the very size of our schemes make them quick- 

 ly topple over : wire re we build railways that are not wauled, 

 to places that do not exist ; where petty larceny is no longer 

 known, we have become dissatisfied with moderation in sport 

 as well as in work ; and because we can no longer make the 

 same bags of game in a well settled country that our fathers 

 did in a tangled wilderness, w T e are discontented with our lot, 

 and hurry off to other places, each man racing with his neigh- 

 bor that hernsyget to his destination, before shooting in season 

 and out of season, fishing -with nets and poisoning streams 

 have sent the geme of that region, too, to the happy hunting 

 grounds, where, let us hope, they wi 1 be more kindly treated 

 by defunct red men than they have ever been by the live 

 white. 



All this is but a long preface to a short story, for this arti- 

 cle has been written only to tell those of your readers, who 

 ■will not skip the rest of "it in disgust, of one plape at least, 

 -within easy reach both of New York and Philadelphia, wdiere, 

 if they are fishermen, they can find game enough to satisfy a 

 moderate minded angler. 



The place referred to is in Pike County, Penn., and, with 

 its beautiful Blooming Grove Park, is well known, by reputa- 

 tion at least, to many of your re aders, though there are nu- 

 merous spots in that land of "Forest and Stream" that are 

 too litile visited by devotees of " Pod and C4un," and the ex- 

 perience of the writer— a frequenter of them— may not be un- 

 interesting to those less intimate than he is with the wonder- 

 ful resources in the way of game ihat old Pike possesses. 



One great advantage of the place is its accessibility, being 

 only four hours from New York on the Erie Railway, -nhile 

 Philadelphians gain access to its southern border by stage 

 over a beautiful pest road from Stroudsburg, a village near 

 the famous Delaware Water Gap. Milford, the county scat, 

 a village of about 1.200 inhabitants, noted for the attractive- 

 ness of its surroundings, is the best place to make one's head- 

 quarters. It is built in a wide amphitheatre, on the bank of 

 the Delaware, from which the hills curve back for a mile or 

 so, as if for the very purpose of leaving the only level ground 

 in Pike County large enough to hold a fair sized town. 

 There are several excellent inns here that are much frequented 

 in summer by those who are in the close pursuit of health 

 and happiness. The village is seven miles south of Port Jar- 

 vis, a prominent town on ihe Erie Bail way, and a mail stage 

 connects daily w ith the inorniDg trains. In the immediate 

 vicinity of tie village itself game is by no means so plenty as 

 it was sr me five anei twenty years ago, though there is still 

 admirable trout fishing within a few miles, while black bass 

 fairly swarm in the Delaware, and can be taken in large Lum- 

 bers toward the erdof August or the beginning of September. 



The best trout stream near Milford is, in my humble judg- 

 ment, the " Itsymondskill," four miles south of the town ; 

 for, though there are fewer fish in it than in the more cele- 

 brated "Sawkill," which empties into the Delaware through 

 the town itself, those that are caught average higher in weight 

 and arc, by long odds, more gamy. The "stream itself takes 

 its rise in a heavy and tangled swrmp, seme six or eight 

 miles hack of Milford ; but, though its course is short its cur- 

 rent is always bread and deep, and there are but few places 

 where a fly cannot be cast with ease and effect Part of the 

 stream is preserved, or, rather, you are charged for fishing 

 some of it ; but a fifty-cent piece wall procure all the right of 

 way or.'e wants for a_ long day's fishing, and if the skillful 

 reader will take his rod some "saftday," as the Scotchmen 

 call it, in early June, and fish from Pegnier's down to Lo- 

 reau's, he will go back to Milford, wet ana muddy, to be sure, 

 butweil rewarded if eight or ten pounds of the spotted beau- 

 ties can compensate him for a hard day's work and many tri- 

 als to his patience. The upper brasch of this stream, known 

 as the "Dwarf skill," is well stocked with small trout, and if 

 the ringler chooses to fish it, in spite of terrifying tales of rat- 

 tlesnake dens that lie upon its rocky hanks, and is willing to 

 unhook his flies from the trees they are caught in twice out 

 of every three casts ; or if he will circle see nd lo fish with 

 " wums," he will bring home a large batketful that will aver- 

 age about a quarter of a pourd. 



The "Sawkill" a'glorious stream, some twenty-five or 

 thirty feet broad, end in most places not over knee-deep, as 

 it tumbles along over mossy boulders ; is probably the tnest 

 fished stream in Pike County, 'throughout its seven miles 

 course it is picturesque, every inch of it~; ard though so well 

 fished, itg supply seems inexhaustible, and of lateyears the 

 fishing has much improved, owing to the fact Ihat the farm- 

 ers charge from fifty cents to a dollar for tic right |of way 

 thjough i heir fields — n< mirally to preserve the fish ard pay 

 for any damage c' ore to the "craps" by the anglers' bouts, 

 really to make the money, and have the additional pleasure of 

 sticking a " city chap." " 



Penny's fat ui ai el Bull's meadows are the best pieces em 

 the stream, but there is excellent fly fishing as far down as 

 the high falls, ard cm a suitable day in May or June the 

 angler need have no bar of not rilling his basket, though, as 

 before stated, the run of trout is tmaller here tlan in the 

 Kaymondskill. 



North of Milford, on the Port Jarvis road, there ate but 

 two streams ef note, the "Yandermarck,'' at the northern 

 edge of the village, and " Eyelet's Brook," some three miles 

 further on. -Ihe latter is a small stream, heavily wooded, 

 and strictly preserved. Nothing but favor can pit, cure the 

 right of fishing here, money— mirabile dktu /—having no ef- 

 fect on the hard heart of the owner, so that this stream is 

 more for the lovers of the picturesque than for the angler. 

 As for the "Vandermarck," my advice to any one who thinks 

 of fishing it is similar to that given by Punch a great many 



years ago to those about to be married—' 1 Don't .'" Though you 

 will catch fish you are absolutely certain to lose your way, 

 break your rod, and spoil your temper in the horrible laurel 

 brakes through which it flows. 



South of the v llage, but still within easy reach, is "Adam's 

 Brook;'' but whether called after the first man or one of later 

 birth is, to the writer, an unknown mystery. The lower part 

 of this stream is picturescjue in the highest degree, but diffi- 

 cult proportionately, so far as scrambling slotrgit goes, though 

 well worthy of a visit. Here the trout are 'few" but large, 

 while the upper part of the creek is more plentifully stocked 

 with big fellows that are guarded from the ardent angler by 

 a patty who lives on the banks, and who threatens all ports 

 of battle, murder and sudden death to the presuming mortal 

 who dares to trespass on his land. As he is reinforced by a 

 bulldog and a shotgun, his trout are pretty severely let aline, 

 and he hf s them all to his own selfish contemplation. Fur- 

 ther away are "Dingman's Creek" and the Indian Ladder 

 Creek " but these, like "Ryder's Brook," are meant more to 

 be looked at than fished. 



Tn all of these brooks there are trout, and large ones— great 

 lusty fellows, of a pound— aye, and many that will turn the 

 scale at two, and even more, but to catch them both skill and 

 industry are needed. All the maxims of the wisest 

 masters of the art must be put in practice by 

 those^ who seek a large reward in these well-fished 

 waters. Every trout a foot long in Pike County is 

 educated. For j ears be has successfully eluded the snares 

 and plots of those who have sought him, and wonderful are 

 the s'ories of cunning on his part that you will hear from the 

 village sportsmen. Here a tyro can fish from morn to dewy 

 eve without getting anything heavier than a quarter of a 

 pound attached to the end of his line, unless an unhappy 

 chub or misguided sunfish be tempted by his gaudy fly. But 

 if a skilled fisherman chooses well his day, he can" always be 

 sure of a good catch. May and June are the best months — 

 say from May 10 to June 15, and though the mosquitoes and 

 midges will bother one a little, they are not very bad. In 

 July, when the streams are low, it is perfectly useless to fish, 

 except in the very early dawn or in the gloaming ; or, better 

 still, under the bright beams of the summer moon. Then, if 

 the angler casts far and lightly, he will raise big fellows in 

 the still waters of Bull's and Penny's, on the "Sawkill." 

 The best flies, so far as an extended experience of these 

 waters has taught me, are the white-winged coachman — a yel- 

 low-bodied fly with red hackle legs and dark wings ; arid a 

 bright preen-bodied fly whh mottled gray and black wings 

 and dark legs. These are always taking, but white millers 

 and red hackles are useful adjuncts. 



Ten miles back of the town is the "Shohola,"a grand 

 stream, wide and deep, here racing over broad rocks and 

 stones, worn by the rushing waters of centuries, there spread- 

 ing out into long, deep stret ches, calm as the smihug sky 

 above. The headwaters lie far back in the Blooming Grove 

 Park, but at this point the fishing is fee for all comers who 

 ask for permission to angle at McCarthy's— the one house that 

 is near the falls, below which lie the best stretches for 

 fly fishing. In June, when the water is right, great sport is 

 had in this stream and in Battlesnake Run, one of its main 

 branches, and ver/ large fish are frequently taken in both. 

 The country is nothing but a wilderness, and is said to be 

 owned by an essoeiation of New York gentle men, -who have 

 certainly taken but feeble steps either to improve it or to pre- 

 serve the game. 



In the southern part of the county the thtee most promi- 

 nent streams are the Big Bushkill, the Little Bushkill and the 

 Saw Creek, all of them famed, and justly so, for the game- 

 ncss and size of their finny- inhabitants. To fieh them an 

 early start should be made— riot later than the middle of May 

 if good sport is expected, for when the streams get at all low, 

 all the trout run into the deep, lagoon-like stretches that are 

 so frequent on them, and very sensibly refure to be caught. 

 The best place to fish the first ard the last of these brook's is 

 Portersville. which, though it beasts an imposing name, is to- 

 day as wild in its primitive beauty fts when the Mimic-sink 

 Indians roamed on the shores of the sheet of water by which 

 it stands. A few mile s further down will afford better" fishing, 

 so far as Saw Creek is concerned. 



Prrti rsville, to tell the truth, consists of but one house, 

 and as there is not another within five miles of it, and all 

 aroui -,d the lovely lake is an unbroken wilderness, through 

 which deer and bear roam at their own sweet wills, it is diffi- 

 cult to gey how it ever received its high-sounding title, unless 

 it sprang from the diseased imagination of its first inhabitant, 

 who, rumor has it, was wild enough to believe that he could 

 plant a colony there. The approach to it is over a road that 

 must be traveled to be appreciated. It is essentially lumpy., 

 ard one's first idea of it is that all the inhabitants of 

 Pike County have, since the time when the memory of man 

 runneth rot to the contrary, used it as a place to pile up their 

 spare rocks. Over this trail — can it be dignified by the name 

 of road ?— f or miles thiough a country that shows no other 

 sign of the presence of men you must go, till you reach the 

 lake, yclcp% in a homely manner, "Porter's Pond." Here 

 you can either board at the solitary house or strike off to one 

 of the streams, and make a camp on its pine-covered banks. 

 If you do the latter— and it will be preferable— remember that 

 in the rare mountain air, May nights are cold, and warm 

 clothing is needed even when the mid-day sun teaches us 

 something of the coining summer. Wisdom dictates that 

 plenty of fire-wood be cut and hauled before daylight de parts, 

 and leaves you to the cool, night winds. 



In either of these streams, and in the Little Bushkill some 

 eigl t milts off, as well, you can be sure of- trout, and, if you 

 know how to catch them, long and heavy and gamy fellows, 

 too, who will try patience ana tackle to the utmost, end make 

 your heart shoot with a pure delight when you have foiled 

 their desperate efforts to escape ; > nd if the charms of a pure 

 and healthy atmosphere can compensate for the absence of 

 "poor humanity," certain it is that a veek's camp on the Big 

 Busl kill will give nothing Lut pleasure and* fresh health and 

 vigor to him who is willing to try it. 



There are Other streams In ihe'eounty— the Si nveitline, the 

 Konneshaugh, the SlOnt and many more— but those named are 

 unquestionably the Lest of all that are not preserved by the 

 Blooming Grove Park Association, and in them all fishing will 

 prove a pleasant task. Nearly all are. sufficu ntly cli .ar of 

 trees to make fly fishing practicable, while some in their size 

 mere nearly approach rivers tl> n brooks. Bcmcniler, 

 though, in fishing, as in everything else, " NoiL sine pulvcre, 

 ■painm," and he who g'des to the places 1 lave named and ex- 

 pects trout to jump into his fishing basket, will be most wo- 

 fully disappointed, and will probably consider the writer of 

 this a most profound humbug. 



Though this Article is hearted " Trout Fishing," it may not 

 be out of place to briefly refer to the fact that splendid black 

 bass fishing can be had in the Delaware, in tvery swirl and 



rapid of its crooked course ; and also to say to lovers of less 

 ndble fish than the dainty trout, that throughout the country 

 there are innumerable ponds or lakes, and that in no one of 

 them can the angler fail to catch a string of yellow perch 

 pickerel and catfish. The latter are wonderfully game, and 

 grow to a size and attain a flavor that would cause the ardent 

 devourcrof a catfish-and-waffie supper 'o open wide both eyes 

 and mouth, could he but see them. Fmtt <h tniei/x, they are 

 not bad fun on a light trout rod ; better sport than the more 

 highly reputed pickerel, which, in my opinion, does too much 

 fighting when he is safe on shore, and not enough while still 

 m his native element. The yellow perch, too, are fine larve 

 fish, easily caught and still more easily eaten when panned 

 soon after their capture. 



In conclusion, let me assure those anglers who have neither 

 the time, money nor inclina'ion to take any formidable trip 

 that they will find exactly what 1 have described, if they care 

 to follow my gratuitous advice. No great outlay of money is 

 necessary. Board in Milford is good and cheap; $10 per 

 week. Paur-boire* will not be rejected, nor can fishing be 

 had sim] ly for the asking on some of the streams, but the 

 prices charged are moderate and w< 11 worth paying, as the 

 fact that a charge is made has greatly decreased the number 

 of ragamuffins who fish the streams, and who are invariably 

 just in front of one. 



Of the biids and deer of Pike Count v I here shall say no 

 word, nor of the matchless beauty of its scenery. Artists' and 

 poets have been busy with its rocky gorges, its waterfalls and 

 its glens. More skillful pencils and abler pens than those of 

 mine have told its story on canvas and on paper. Only to 

 the fisherman do I now" talk, and to him I say : When' the 

 spring tune comes again, when new flowers are blooming in 

 the fields, when the eglantine blushes brightest in the hedges, 

 go where, far from all cares and troubles, nothing but pleasure 

 can await you ; go with the flower of Mav, the arbutus, to 

 the places I have told you of, and I bid you godspeed. In 

 the words of Old Izaak, " May the east wind never blow 

 when you go a-fishing." Qtju,ibet. 



For Forest and Stream and Hod and Gun. 

 MOOSE HUNTING IN NOVA SCOTIA. 



IN the rr.iddle of June, '77, I, with two men, went to my 

 old camping ground for the purpose of peeling birch 

 bark enough to repair my winter camp, and build two calling 

 camps for the present October, it being the first of the open 

 season for moose and caribou for three years. 



Those who have never peeled a birch tree with a pair of 

 climbers have a pleasure in store that cannot be conceived of. 

 By commencing at the foot of the tree and peeling upward as 

 high as you can reach, by simply making a straight out down 

 the bark, it immediately bursts open, raid, with a Ytry slight 

 touch,falls off if in good peeling condition, or, as the Indians say, 

 "moon right. " Then, grasping the tree with both hands like' 

 a bear, and imagining yourself to be a game rooster, you 

 drive both spurs into the tree and walk up. After going up 

 twenty or thirty feet, your legs begin to the, you faiT to drive 

 the spur far enough— then, '-stand from under, any one down* 

 there," as you are sure to go down Ihat tree like "greased 

 lightning." Talk of a greased pole, there never was "one to 

 equp.l it. After peeling, you proceed to roll the batk in bun- 

 dles from twenty-five to thirty-five piecrsin each, and bind with 

 astrong withe made of yellow birch plum tree, in ffle wood, or 

 witch hazel. In these bundles, with nothing to protect them 

 from rain and snow, they will last fifteen or twenty years, 

 and be as good as ever for camp building. 



In one day we obtained enough for two camps. In Sep- 

 tember I selected the ground for building, one and a half 

 miles from where I obtained the Larks ; carried them to the 

 spot, and began to build number one. This was done by log- 

 ging up three feet high, ten or twelve feet scjuare, then setting 

 poles 1rom the four corners to a peak at Ihe top, and binding 

 with a stout withe, filling in the side poles about one 

 foot, apart, and barking up nearly to the peafc. The high- 

 er the camp the better draught and less smoke, as an open fire 

 is yed. 



When we require a winter camp, we cover the bark outside- 

 with fine boughs about one foot thick, which are held in their 

 place by placing poles against them. When covered with 

 snow it is very warm, the boughs preventing the snow from 

 melting off by the heat from inside. 



Camp number two was built four miles from the winter 

 camp ; at this place I fortunately found barks in splendid 

 condition, which had been peeled by the Indians fifteen years 

 ago. 



The night Ned and 1 barked that camp I will never forget, 

 it was the 13th of September, we did not reach the ground 

 until dark, then to be met by one of the most terrific thunder- 

 storms I ever heard. As soon as we got coats and packs off our 

 backs we began to bark up. Every rail that was 

 driven was done by tie glow from the lightning, it being 

 incessant, and for thirty minutes the thunder never ceased, 

 but rolled up ard down ihe vatdt in which we were, out 

 across the plains to be echoed back again by the belts of 

 timber in terrific roars, or in soft murmurs from the hills 

 across the river, two miles away. The flashes of lightning, 

 the roar of the wind, the rain that, fell in torrents on the maple 

 and birch leaves, all conspired to make the sight and souud 

 awfully grand. 



My two camps for calling being ready, I had provisions for 

 two "weeks portaged into Camp, so as to be ready on the first 

 of October. On that day I started down I 

 to see some of the old hunters and ascertain about the direc- 

 tion the moose were traveling. When about half way down, 

 on going through a piece of timber, I saw fresh signs of 

 moose on the road, so tj mg the pony up to a tree, 1 followed 

 a quarter of a mile into tone timber. There-, not twenty 

 yards from where I stood, above a little knoll, and between 

 two trees, I could see tJ e antlers of a three years old n.- 

 lying down, nothing but head and neck exposed. 1 tried my 

 favorite shot— the oeek bone, which I nearly severed. In try- 

 ing to get up, he would fall forward on his head, then down 

 otitis oeit I 3it not witch him hug before the iEife sev- 

 ered the arteries of his neck. After having dressed him, 1 re- 

 turned home, only four hours having elapsed since I left, 

 having driven nine miles in the meantime— rather sharp 

 work. The following day Ned and I carried him out to the 

 wagon. 



As this looked so promising I left that afternoon for the 



calling camp seven miles from the nearest settlement ; but. 



the wind blowing until late, I could not call, so returned to 



camp. Being anxious about lire morning calling, I arose tre- 



■ in the night to look at the weather. At three in the 



I I called Ned and at four 1 left the camp. 



After walking a mile and a quarter by the light of the mooa 



