322 
shifting scene developed its peculiar beauties. Mountains 
arose abruptly on either side, hedging in the narrow way, 
in some places there being barely space for the wagons be¬ 
tween the bank of the Rio Hondo upon one side and the 
rocky wall upon the other, the one murmuring a song on 
its way to the sea—the other towering majestically in 
silence above. The glorious sun-rises were only equalled 
by the lovely sun-sets. A land to delight the painter and 
drive mad the poet. Ye who love the haunts of nature, 
come to the valley of the Rio Hondo and be happy. We 
arrived at Fort Stanton on Christmas Eve and were well 
prepared by our long march to enjoy the hospitality of our 
army friends, and right royally did we feast; forestand 
stream had contributed to the occasion twenty black-tailed 
deer, over one hundred wild turkeys, geese, duck, curlew, 
and trout in great abundance. 
We had hoped that this would be the end of our march, 
and had planned several hunting and fishing excursions, 
when we received orders to proceed on to the Rio Grande, 
one hundred and sixty miles south-west, via the Mai Pais 
Desert, known by some as the “White Sands.” These 
sands are white as drifted snow; they extend for forty 
miles from north to south by ten to twenty east and west; 
they are a series of mounds or low hills ranging from 
twenty to one hundred feet in height. They are disinte¬ 
grated gypsum, as you will see by the sample I send you by 
mail. The Sierra Blanca and Sacramento Mountains ex¬ 
tend north and south, on the eastern side of these sands, 
the San Andres and Organ Mountains on the west. 
The second day from the Mai Pais Desert we passed be¬ 
tween the San Andres and Organ Mountains by San Andres 
pass, and the evening of the same day arrived at the Rio 
Grande, two thousand seven hundred miles from Washing¬ 
ton, seven hundred and thirty-five miles marched from the 
terminus of the railroad in thirty days. Orville. 
[The sample of gypsum is before us, and as we contem¬ 
plate its yielding gritty nature, affording no foothold on the 
weary march we can appreciate the toil of that forty-mile 
journey, and also the painfulness to the eyes, of the glare 
that must render frequent applications of damp powder to 
the nose necessary to prevent blindness.— Ed. J 
For Foresi and Stream. 
LAND LOCKED SALMON. 
THE GRAND LAKE STREAM. 
- « - 
B Y your request I will give you the result of our trip to 
Grand Lake Stream. My intention was to extend the 
trip to the Provinces, but finding fishing so entirely satis¬ 
factory at Grand Lake Stream^ I did not hanker for any 
better sport. We left Boston May 25th, going by rail to 
Calais, Maine. There learning that Mr. W. W. Sawyer, 
Superintendent of the St. Croix Railroad from Calais to 
Princeton, had this season placed a small steamer on Big 
and Long Lakes, to run in connection with the P. M. train 
to Gould’s Landing, where Grand Lake Stream empties into 
Big Lake, I called on him and he at once made arrange¬ 
ments to make a special trip the next morning. We took 
an early start by the first train to Princeton, reaching there 
a little past eight o’clock, and the landing about half-past 
one, P. M., having had a splendid run up the lakes, 
favored not only with beautiful weather, but by the 
company of Mr. Sawyer himself, together with two 
ladies of his family. We found Mr. S. obliging and 
courteous, and to say that the ladies were not agreeable 
and entertaining, would be both ungallant and untrue, and 
we acknowledge our obligations. 
The usual preparation and delay m pitching tent left only 
a short time for fishing that afternoon, May 27th, but 
enough, however, to kill a dozen or more salmon before 
sundown. Our partjq by the way, was made up of Mr. 
Alfred Rowe, of Springfield, Massachusetts; Mr. Walter S. 
Earnes, Somerville, Massachusetts, and myself. The first 
two named never before trailed a fly over the Schoodic 
waters, and were highly delighted at the good opening of 
their first campaign at Grand Lake. I have little doubt 
that they were playing salmon (in dreams) all night, judg¬ 
ing by the broad grin on the countenance of one of them, 
and the almost boisterous laughter with which he was con¬ 
vulsed while handling and witnessing the “leaps” of his 
first salmon. Fishing improved and our scores increased 
every day. 
One morning, on learning that the gates were not to be 
hoisted that day, I said to Joe, my guide:— 
“Joe, do you think there will be any one fishing down to 
the little falls to-day?” 
“No,” said Joe; “don’t think anybody will be there to¬ 
day.” 
“Why, said I; can it be possible that among so many 
anglers as there are here, there will not be some one or 
more who knows there will be good sport at the little falls 
to-day. with the gates closed and no logs running?” 
“Well I guess nobody down there,” said Joe. 
“Why not? said I,” 
“Nobody here, (meaning among the Indian guides,) like 
lug canoe,” replied Joe. 
“Oh, I see,” said I; “you mean all the other guides here 
are too lazy to carry their canoe down there.” 
“Yeas,” replied Joe, laughingly. 
“I think I can do some execution there without a canoe, 
I said.” 
“Can’t do much without a canoe,” said Joe. 
“Well said; and do you want to carry yours down?” 
“Yeas,” says Joe, pleasantly. 
“We can have good sport there you think, Joe?” 
“Oh yeas, good sport there w r itli canoe.” 
I felt as confident of that as he did, but wanted not only 
to have him confirm my belief but to see how he felt about 
carrying down his canoe, a distance'to carry of over a mile. 
I knew from the way he spoke he was glad to take his 
canoe down if he could by so doing, give me a good day’s 
sport. Now I did not think it worth while to lug a canoe 
so far if the chances were more than even that there would 
be others there, but I knew I could place great reliance on 
what Joe said. Joe can speak volumes in one word. If 
he mars the English language he never wastes it. I think 
I have seen a more demonstrative display of affection be¬ 
tween Romeo and Juliet than l should imagine could pos¬ 
sibly take place between Joe and his. “or any other fellah’s” 
squaw. He will never be brought into tribulation by his 
gossiping. He goes straight at the point in speaking. I 
shall never forget when once we were together I asked him 
to paddle me into a little deeper and more rapid water, and 
when there I insisted on sitting up on the cross bar of the 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
I 
canoe. Joe looked me calmly in the face; and with a 
gravity and waggislmcss, for which he is noted, asked: 
“Can you swim?” I never comprehended three words 
quicker and better than I did those three. Accordingly, I 
lost no time in replying that swimming was a part of my 
early education, and immediately dropped into the bottom 
of the canoe. I had learned that ’twas useless to argue with 
him. 
As I was saying, I can rely on him. I have tried him 
well. We have tented together five seasons. We have 
been in the middle of Grand Lake in a heavy north-easter, 
with a full sail up in the canoe, when it looked scarey, and 
when one of the guides himself looked ominous, and when 
our canoes shipped many a heavy roller, drenching some of 
the party, (ask Prouty.) We have camped on an island for 
the night, to find, on awaking, our only paddle gone, and 
“nary” a board with which to make another, anywhere to 
be found. Another guide, by mistake, had taken it with 
him on his departure the evening before. This was no 
joke, judging by the strange mixture of languages and 
worse grammar Joe used on that solemn occasion, in which 
it is more than probable I joined. We were in a hurry to 
proceed on our journey. We were entirely surrounded, 
not so much by pleasing incidents and circumstances of 
travel, as by water. We could both swim some, but that 
wouldn’t do. 
One may be mad clear through, and get resigned in a 
measure, because he can’t help it. Such, I think, was Joe’s 
condition, and I felt like a politician when he says “he is 
in the hands of his constituents;” I was entirely at Joe’s 
service. But he proved equal to the emergency again, 
hewed out a cedar paddle and we were soon on our journey 
again. But I see I am drifting away from Little Falls. 
After breakfast i said to Joseph, and if we have good sport, 
“you shall be a Bishop Joseph.” Our canoe was lightly 
set upon the pool just above the falls at §£ o’clock. Sure 
enough, as Joe predicted, no one was there. What a priv¬ 
ilege ! To be alone on such a splendid pool, with none to 
foul you in casting, and no pork-slingers slashing round— 
enough to frighten the spots out of the fish. We had 
scarcely got pushed out into the current, my leader had not 
measured its length on the water, before a salmon took my 
leading fly. He'fought well and was landed, -when a third 
or fourth cast took another,and he made my reel sing lively, 
doing some smart jumping before surrendering, when he 
proved to be like the other, a male fish. I saw at once there 
was game as well as music in that pool. We would 
scarcely get out into the current before Joe had to paddle 
slowly ashore out of the current to land my fish, and in 
this way I took nine males in succession, all about the*same 
weight and of a dark, greenish color, all of which were the 
gamiest fish I ever handled on the Schoodic waters, Then 
came along, now and then, a female fish much fatter and 
brighter color than the others. I ani certain that the fish 
in that pool were the smartest I had ever seen. Why, I 
cannot say. They seemed to vie with each other in seeing 
which could leap the highest. One among them deserves 
not only freedom, which he got, but speciaf mention here. 
After hooking him he made two such brilliant dashes and 
leaps, running full sixty feet, that he thrilled my very 
nerves, and convinced me that he “meant business,” and to 
become master of the situation if possible. He made one 
more run, ending in a leap, which almost startled me and 
brought forth from the stoic Joe an expression of wonder 
and satisfaction. It was a different leap from any I had 
ever seen before. Now, in telling this, I don’t forget that 
more than half of the fish stories are not credited, except 
with being inflated. I don’t forget that I once attended a 
Sabbath school. I don’t forget that that “noble chocolate 
colored man,” Joe, was witness to the contest and can be 
interviewed relating thereto any time; neither was I ex¬ 
cited. He came out of the ivater much as a frightened 
duck does when rising to fly, making very much the same 
splash or sound, only instead of being head first he ap¬ 
peared to me to go sidelong and at an angle, which left him 
at the terminus of his leap at least five feet high in mid air, 
making a jump after coming to the surface of fifteen feet 
sure, nearly going over the falls, and freeing himself. 
That fish was a success, either as a jumpist or as a lively 
and accomplished performer on “leaders” and fly tackle. I 
should say that an honest pair of scales would accord him 
three and a half pounds. I played and landed several more, 
all of wdiich gave lively satisfaction; and when a quarter 
to one o’clock we heard the whistle, (desiring to ride home 
on the express,) I ceased fishing and counted up and found 
the score to be thirty-nine, and no small ones among them. 
That part of the day not employed here I fished around the 
dam and took sixteen, making my whole catch for the day 
fifty-five salmon. From that day I lost interest, not fishing 
with that zest and keen relish I had done before, it being 
almost a matter of indifference to me sometimes whether I 
landed the fish I hooked or lost him off in playing, believ¬ 
ing half the sport to be in the rise. 
The day before leaving I fished below the tannery, telling 
Joe I should not keep over one dozen or one and a half 
dozen, and when I had reached that number and began to 
put back all I got after, Joe scowled (I had returned many 
before) and twisted uneasily, but being “boss of that job” 
I continued until I had taken in all twenty-three, returning 
seven to the water to live and be happy, or make some 
other sportsman happy. 
“It was here,” says Joe, “where you took eight pair one 
day two years ago;” and Joe knows. 
The following day, June 5th, I broke camp and started 
homeward, my companions having preceeded me a few 
days; therefore, I cannot give their full numbers, both hav¬ 
ing had, like myself, excellent sport and good success, Mr, 
Barnes having killed, the day before he left us, sixty 
salmon, the largest number taken by any one in our party. 
My record was for the eight days, two hundred and three, 
not counting the little yearlings of course. Of my two 
hundred and three fifty were returned to their native ele¬ 
ment. I will say here that I took all but one of my fish 
with a fly, nearly or quite all around me using bait for the 
first two or three days. Of the one hundred and fifty-three 
I killed, and many more Mr. B. and Mr. R. took, we did 
not consume at our camp more than two dozen, the rest, 
after Mr. B. taking home with him to our Boston friends 
about seventy five, we gave to neighbors, from whom we 
had received favors, and to our guides, not permitting a 
single fish to be wasted. I mention this because I am often 
asked what I do with so many fish, besides, many hearing 
of so large a number being- taken, might suppose our prin¬ 
cipal object was slaughter. Such is not the fact, our 
whole party being unanimous against such wickedness. I 
left Grand Lake two days earlier than I should have done, 
more by reason of entertaining some compunction of cn 
science against what seemed to me almost slaughter th» 
because of becoming satiated with that kind of snov? 
although I must say that since the day I bent my first, n 
hook into shape, attached io a piece of twine, hare-foot ^ 
and bare-headed, I crept cautiously on to the old rickot 
decayed log-bridge, spanning the little brook near the r, h 
homestead, and fiddled my line down between the stir-l¬ 
and experienced my first “tug” at the line, landing mvfiAt 
trout, (I didn’t use a pin hook after that,) and proudiv 
marching home with my trophy in hand, down to this IGI 
trip, I have never approached so near being satiated will 
fishing as now. ° ” 111 
I never expect to enjoy such fishing again at Grand Lak 
It seems to me only a question of time when these beautifni 
fish will become scarce, unless some further protection 
given them. Would it not be a good way to have enacted 
a law limiting the catch per day by any one person sav not 
exceeding two dozen, and to fly and bait fishing?’ Indeed 
it would not larcerate my feelings to see such measures 
taken as to insure good fishing there for all time It can 
easily be done. It is my honest conviction that ali persons 
who are actively engaged in the propagation of food and 
game fish, and the procuring of enactments for their nro 
tection, are public benefactors. 
In closing I may say that on my way home by the short 
route up Grand Lake, Junior Lake and Stream, Duck Lake 
and Stream to Carroll, thence by stage to Lincoln Station 
on E. &N. A. Railroad, I stopped over one day at Sprino-. 
field, and by driving ten miles to where I struck the Bas- 
kahegan Stream near the dam, I took over twenty pouuds 
of spotted trout, averaging over a half pound each. Tims 
ends a most enjoyable trip. r t> 
Boston , June 22, 1874. 
- -*.*<*- - 
For Forest and Stream. 
WOODLAND CARIBOO, OR AMERICAN 
REINDEER OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 
T HE interior of Newfoundland is an elevated tableland 
not less than 2,000 feet above the sea level in some 
parts of the northwest, but lower in the southern portion 
of the island. This savanna country lias a surface soil of 
fine black compact peat mould, formed by the growth and 
decay of mosses, and covered uniformly with their wiry 
grass. The plains are in the form of extensive gently un¬ 
dulating beds, stretching northward and southward, with 
running waters and lakes, skirted with woods lying be¬ 
tween them. “Their yellow green surfaces,” says Cornfack 
the only traveller who has crossed the island, “are some¬ 
times uninterrupted by either tree, shrub, rocks or any 
inequality, for more than ten miles. They are chequered 
every where upon the surface by deep beaten deer paths, 
and are, in reality, magnificent natural deer parks, adorned 
by woods and water. The trees here sometimes grow 
to a considerable size, particularly the larch; birch is also 
common. The deer herd upon them to graze.” 
It is remarkable that neither reptile, serpent nor any 
noxious creature is known to exist in Newfoundland, 
although these are common in the neighboring continent 
and islands. But bountiful nature has been liberal in 
stocking the island with noble herds of reindeer, finer than 
those of which Norway and Lapland can boast, specimens 
of which are found at times to weigh six or seven hun¬ 
dred pounds. The vast number of deer paths which, like 
a net work, seam the surface of the interior in all direc¬ 
tions, show that the number, of deer must be enormous. 
Their great enemies are the wolves, which are continually 
chasing them from place to place, especially during the 
winter months, when the deer leave the mountains and 
come to the plains beloiv to feed on the “browse” of the 
birch. A few settlers who are in the habit of deer stalk¬ 
ing, go into the hills in pursuit of deer about the middle 
of September, which is just prior to the rutting season, and 
consequently at a time when the stags are in their best con¬ 
dition. 
The migrations Of the Newfoundland reindeer are as 
regular as the seasons, between the southeastern and north¬ 
western portions of the island. The winter months are 
passed in the south, where “browse” is plentiful, and the 
snow is not so deep as to prevent them from reaching the 
lichens, amid the lower grounds. In March, when the 
sun becomes more powerful, so that the snow is softened 
by its rays, permitting them to scrape it off and reach the 
herbage beneath, the reindeer turn their faces towards the 
northwest, and begin their spring migration. They do 
not move in large bodies, for in that case they could not 
graze freely, but in herds of from twenty to two hundred 
each, which are connected together by stragglers or piquets, 
the animals following one another in single files, a few 
yards or feet apart. The wdiole surface of the country is 
now alive with the deer, as herd follows herd in rapid suc¬ 
cession, each led by a noble stag as tall as a horse, and all 
bending their course, in parallel lines, towards the hills of 
the west and northwest. Here they arrive from the middle 
to the end of April, and amid the rocky barrens and moun¬ 
tains, where their favorite mossy food most abounds, they 
browse till October. In June they bring forth their young; 
in these solitudes, where they meet with a profusion of 
mountain herbage, and where, as compared with tl*e low¬ 
lands, they are free from the persecution of flies. So soon, 
however, as the frosts of October begin to nip the vegeta¬ 
tion, they turn towards the south and east, and repeat their 
long march in the same manner, and pursuing the same 
paths as when on their northern migration. Thus for 
countless centuries, it may be, have these innumerable - 
herds been moving along the same route, unless when in¬ 
terrupted by the Indians or the irregularities of the seasons. 
Their movements are generally in paralled lines, unless 
where the narrow necks of land, separating lakes, or the 
running waters or straits uniting them, or intervening 
chains of hills cause them to concentrate on one point. It- 
was at such points that the Boeothics, or indigenous Red 
Indians, were accustomed to wait for the deer, and slaugh- 
ter them in great numbers. Not content with this, how¬ 
ever, they erected deer fences, the remains of which can 
still be traced for many miles. Inland from Notre Dame 
Bay and far to the northwest of Red Indian Lake, a double 
line of strong fence was put up by the Red Indians, which 
at its commencement diverged many miles. The southern 
fence ran down to the lake, so that deer should thus come 
near their own encampment; and the northern line of fence 
was to prevent their escape near the shore. *Tlie northern 
fence ran down to the River Exploits, along the bank of 
which another fence was raised, with openings at particular 
