248 Field and Forest Rambles. 



distances to spawn ; although occasionally a few push up the 

 great rivers a long way. 



None of the migratory fresh-water fishes — the salmon ex- 

 cepted — afford better sport to the angler than the far-famed 

 Striped Bass (R. lineatus). Although its head-quarters are 

 evidently in the briny deep, where it may be captured at all 

 seasons, still, as soon as the rivers open in spring, there is a 

 rush of bass up the St. John ; probably the males precede the 

 females, seeing that the first fish usually captured belong to 

 the former; at all events, the reproductive organs are then fully 

 developed in both sexes. About the middle of June they 

 commence to play on the surface in a remarkable manner, 

 jumping and gamboling like bonito or porpoises. The shallows 

 around the islands near Fredericton are evidently a favourite 

 resort, as annually, from time immemorial, the natives have 

 repaired to the locality for the purpose of spearing them. It 

 was at one time very plentiful in many of the large rivers and 

 seaboard creeks, but, like the salmon, has not only been for- 

 bidden its ancient haunts and spawning-grounds through mill- 

 dams, but the seine, bag net, and spear, recklessly used at all 

 seasons, have caused the complete extinction of the fish in 

 various localities, and promise to bring about a speedy annihila- 

 tion, at least as far as the inland waters are concerned. The 

 experiment of transferring it into lakes above the dams has 

 been tried in Maine, but with rather imperfect success; 

 perhaps the fish cannot entirely subsist in fresh water. Ac- 

 cording to the Indian belief, it is asserted that the males chase 

 the females on these occasions ; most probably, however, it is 

 the stronger males driving off the smaller from the spawning- 

 beds. Be that, however, as it may, the scene on a beautiful 

 summer afternoon is extremely exciting. There a few canoes 

 containing the remnants of the Melicite tribe, with a sprink- 

 ling of European spectators, may be seen dropping quietly 

 down the river, each with an Indian in the prow, spear in hand, 

 and another at the stern paddling gently: then a sudden splash 



