£22 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aran. 17, 1884. 



FISFIim FOB BASS. 



A BRIEF DISCOURSE, BY MICROPTERTJ S 8ALM0IDE8. 

 SCENE— A clear stream overhung by water maples and wil- 

 lows. M. S., a veteran of not less than five pounds weight 

 by scale, of two pounds more by the bettor method of 

 guessing, is surrounded by a school of his younger fel- 

 lows, too big to be swallowed, but not too big to be taught by 

 him. 



AH young friends, the pleasure of fishing is not for men 

 J -'-*- alone, nor yet for them and fish-hawks and king- 

 fishers, otters and mink only. There is sport in it for fish, 

 and do not understand me as meaning now in the taking of 

 fish by fish, which is the greatest sport that a great fish can 

 enjoy or a little one minister to (and if one of you were of a size 

 to fit my throat and maw, I would he most happy to show 

 you how to do it artistically) ; but I mean the sport of being 

 fished for. Not by fish-hawks and otters, which are to be 

 dreaded and avoided by us, nor by kingfishers and minks, 

 which are too insignificant to be our foes after we have got 

 beyond childhood, but by men. And not by men when they 

 use their various deadly and insidious traps for our capture, 

 nor try to impale us with mangling spears, sharper and 

 crueler than the heron's, but only when they endeavor to 

 take us with a show of fair play, by means of a lure, con- 

 cealing or attached to a sharp-pointed bent and baited bit of 

 steel, fastened to a long, slender thread. The lure is some- 

 times an earth worm, such as we occasionally vary our fare 

 with: sometimes one of those small minnows which were 

 wisely created for our sport and food; sometimes the delicate 

 frog, or the ugly, but appetizing helgramite, the cricket, the 

 grasshopper, and any of the winged and creeping things 

 which we feed upon. Our ingenious enemy contrives cun- 

 ning imitations of most of these, many of them so per- 

 fect that they would deceive the oldest and wisest Bass that 

 ever swam until he had closely examined them, or tested 

 them by touch or taste. Besides these he offers us wonder- 

 ful combinations of feathers and gaudy colored silk, prob- 

 ably expecting us to use them as playthings, for they look 

 like no living insect that ever flitted over the water, or else to 

 lead us to destruction by exciting our curiosity concerning 

 such strange objects. 



Now, my young friends, attend to this rule, and hold 

 always to it. Never attempt to lay hold of worm, minnow, 

 insect, or any other article of food, or anything of un- 

 usual appearance which you may see in or upon the water, 

 until you have examined it closely, and then if you discover 

 (hat it is attached to a thread, no matter of what color, or 

 though it appears to be only the slender stem of a water 

 plant, be assured that it is one of the mischievous devices of 

 man, and let your actions be governed accordingly. If you 

 see nothing of this nature in conjunction with such an ob- 

 ject, you need not hesitate to take it, and if you find it to 

 your taste, to swallow it. Having satisfied yourself that a 

 minnow fastened to one of these threads is a real and living- 

 one— if a sham never attempt to meddle with it, for the 

 barbed steel will be in the tail, which you would first seize — 

 you have presented to you an opportunity for sport. Cast 

 your eyes upward and you will be likely to see the man, 

 plainly distinguishable, though perhaps somewhat distorted 

 by the ripple and swirl of the water, standing upon the bank 

 or in a boat, or wading in the stream, and if the water is 

 clear enough you will observe that he holds in his long pec- 

 toral fins a slim wand of wood, to the end of which is at- 

 tached the thread or cord that tethers the minnow. Now, 

 approach cautiously, and taking hold of the tip of the min- 

 now's tail, give it a slight pull. Then after a few twitches, 

 you may alter your hold to one a little above the tail, and 

 begin to swim slowly away, when you will find the minnow 

 given you for a little without resistance. But presently it 

 will be jerked so smartly that it will be taken from you if 

 the grip of your jaws is not firm. Hold fast and, swim 

 which way you will, there will be a steady strain kept 

 on the minnow by the man, but not yet will he attempt 

 to draw you to him if he is skillful, but will let you 

 rush whither you will, so it be not to weeds, 

 roots or driftwood, while his wand bends as you have 

 seen a bullrush with a marsh wren on its top. If the min- 

 now is tough and hangs well to the bent steel, and you have 

 been careful not to bite it in two, you may now add to your 

 sport by making an impetuous rush and at the end of it leap- 

 ing your whole length above the surface, when you may get 

 a good look at the man, and be greatly amused to see the 

 mingled exultation and anxiety displayed in his visage. The 

 first expression will grow more intense if you keep your hold 

 upon the minnow after the leap is made, which he thinks a 

 desperate endeavor to free yourself, and having failed in it, 

 he feels almost sure of your speedy capture. You may re- 

 peat this maneuver several times, being careful to put less 

 force into each leap than in the one before it for the sake of 

 keeping the minnow whole and to increase the confidence of 

 your adversary, whom you will see grinning with delight, 

 and hear him addressing you when your ears are above water, 

 something in this wise: "Ah hah 1 My fine fellow! You are 

 a brave fighter, but you'll have to give in! It's dangerous 

 fooling with my minnows! Don't you wish you hadn't?" 

 When he says: "Ah! you jolly old six-pounder!" you may 

 think he is not talking to you, but he is, and is not flattering 

 you, but himself. When you have had enough of this fun, 

 you may pretend to be exhausted and rendy to give up, and 

 allow the enemy to draw you toward him while you he upon 

 your $ide and gently fan the water with your fins. When 



he has got you near to him, if you see him poking slyly 

 toward and under you a web of threads stretched upon a 

 hoop at the end of a stick, at once tear the minnow off the 

 hooked steel as most likely you can easily do now. If you 

 cannot do this, bite off your mouthful without delay and get 

 to a safe distance with it. If the man does not use this in- 

 strument, but attempts to seize you with his five-rayed long 

 pectoral fin, you may flirt his face full of water with your 

 tail, take the whole or part of the minnow as you can, and 

 be off with it. In either case, if you will just afterward put 

 your ear to the air, you may hear a storm of words that need 

 not frighten you, and if it does not shock you, will make 

 you grin to your gills. 



Very likely he will continue to offer you minnows as long- 

 as his stock holds out, and you may have sport till you tire 

 of it, and your belly filled till it aches, and the same when 

 he uses little frogs or helgramites to bait you. But if he 

 offers you worms, crickets and the like you will be obliged 

 to exercise more caution and will have but little pleasure of 

 it,, for you must bite gingerly, and only at legs, wings and 

 fag ends, which have but little strength to endure his and 

 your pulling. 



As for the shams with which men seek to allure you, you 

 would best shun all such as resemble minnows, frogs and 

 helgramites, for in them is more danger than sport or profit 

 for you. Those which have something of the appearance of 

 flies and other insects, you are by no means to touch with 

 your mouth, but may rush at them with a great show of 

 eagerness and then strike with your tail, whereupon you 

 shall see your angler in a fine state of excitement, and he 

 will continue to toss and skitter and drag about his feathers 

 and silk till you and he are both tired of it. 



There be wretches so murderously inclined that they hesi- 

 tate not to take our wives during the interesting and trying 

 period of spawning, which they do by dropping upon the 

 bed one of their steel instruments, sheathed in a worm. 

 When such an object is seen intruding thereon, let it lie till 

 the monster, grown tired of waiting for his intended victim 

 to remove it, does it himself and departs. Men cannot live 

 longer in the water than can we in the air; if we had but 

 the power to draw such wretches as these and the netters 

 into our element and then hold them till the miserable life 

 had departed out of them, how worthy and glorious an act 

 it would be, and one for which it would seem the better men 

 must rise up and call us blessed. 



If by any mischance you should get in your jaws this barbed 

 instrument of which I have so often spoken, you must rid 

 yourself of it at any cost of pain, and strength, and trouble, 

 or else part with your life. Try your utmost pulling on the 

 line, running up on it, rubbing out the steel on the bottom, 

 getting the line wound about a root, sunken limb or log, 

 when you may exert all your strength on the line, the hook 

 and your own flesh, without the everlasting giving and bend- 

 ing of the pliant wand to thwart you. Spring from the water 

 and shake the deadly torment loose at the instant the strain 

 is slackened. If the man is in a boat, run under it. Get 

 into the weeds if any are at hand. If all these fail, resort to 

 feigning yourself fagged out and beaten before you are 

 really so, and then when your would-be captor thinks he has 

 you safe, and is off his guard, strike with all the strength of 

 every fin for liberty and life. 



I will not detain you longer to-day. When next you come 

 to listen to my words of advice and instruction, bring with 

 you two or three of your younger brothers, say of four 

 inches length, and I will show you how to catch a Bass. 



* 



DOWN THE MADAWASCA. 



UtipvID you take your usual trip to the Rangelcy Lakes 

 JLs this season?" inquired a friend of me last fall, 

 knowing that my habitat in late August and early Septem- 

 ber had been for several years in that region. "No," I an- 

 swered, "I took a canoe trip down the Madawasca," "Down 

 the what?" "Down the Madawasca," I repeated; and upon 

 his professing in words what he had acknowledged in man- 

 ner, viz., that he was entirely ignorant of the locus of the 

 aforesaid river, I gave him information something like the 

 following, which (presuming that some even of the readers of 

 the Forest and Stream may be equally uninformed) I insert 

 here as briefly as I can. 



The Madawasca is situated in the province of Canada and 

 flows into the river St. John at Edmundston, the northern 

 terminus of the New Brunswick Railway. It has this some- 

 what remarkable peculiarity. About twenty miles from 

 Edmundston is its source in Mud Lake, and, passing through 

 several lakes and receiving several tributaries, it takes a cir- 

 cuitous course of over one hundred miles, and finally empties 

 into the St. John, having in one place, about fifteeu miles 

 above Edmundston (at Griffin's), run within four miles of its 

 starting point. . , „ . . 



To swing around this circle ot piscatorial pleasures and 

 primeval forests and pass over the waters, some of them ex- 

 ceedingly rapid, of this lovely stream, requires for easy work 

 and no hurry in order to enjoy the ever changing scenery, 

 about two weeks at, the least, though some parties will make 

 it hurriedly in a much shorter time, it is down stream all 

 the way, of course, and there is no danger of getting lost, 

 which is one consolation. One needs, however, the best of 

 guides when on the river; i. e., a good strong person with 

 the canoe pole in the rapids, such as the Toledi Falls (pro- 

 nounced "Toolady"), and the twelve-mile rapids in the river 

 between Squattuck Lakes, Nos. 3 and 2. There are seven 

 or eight beautiful lakes on this trip, where some paddling 

 has to be done. The lakes vary from one to ten miles in 

 length. The last lake, the Tamisconata (variously spelled) is 

 about twenty-two milea long, but we enter it at the middle. 



nearly, on the left hand shore, and are thus saved from pad- 

 dling its entire length. Guides are paid $1.50 and $2.00 per 

 day. We had a good one, Peter Theriault, of Caribou, 

 Maine, the most skillful man in the rapids I ever saw, and it 

 was entirely owing to his skill that we were saved from being 

 submerged in the swollen rapids and from having our craft 

 dashed to pieces on the projecting rocks. 



Now as to the fishing qualities of this stream. From the 

 moment you strike the outlet of Mud Lake, the fishing be- 

 gins. Trout by the hundred may be caught soma; the twelve- 

 mile outlet of the first lake. This is called Beardsley (or 

 Bazley) brook. These fish are not large, however, but as" you 

 pass down near to the next Jake, Squattuck Lake No. 3, 

 the trout become larger, and rise to the fly in a way to suit 

 the most ardent fisherman. Frequently did I catch two at a 

 cast, having only two flies. The color most attractive was 

 red, or reddish; brown hackle with red body, Sloan fly, and 

 dark winged Montreal never failed to "do excellently. 

 Throughout our whole trip the trout rose most readily. At 

 the foot of Squattuck Lake No. 3, a rod or two from shore, I 

 found my beau ideal of trout fishing. When the ripple came 

 just right, trout of one, two and even three pounds could be 

 hooked in rapid succession. In fact this place is enough to 

 spoil almost any fisherman for ordinary fishing. It is a grand 

 place for camping out, and but for its difficultv of access 

 would be camped to death. We were the first party that 

 went through last year, and because of this had to cut away 

 seven jams of logs. Dr. Griggs, of Brooklyn, wa's 

 my companion. Dugouts are generally used. We 

 went with one guide, and all our baggage in 

 a cedar boat hired from Mr. T. S. Richards, of 

 Edmundston. Indians can be got for guides at Tobique. Mr. 

 H. C. Collins, of Fort Fairfield, Me., did us much service. 

 Mr. Richards was also of great assistance. He keeps store at 

 Edmundston, and will fit one out almost completely. Black 

 flies and mosquitoes were quite troublesome, and one must 

 take along plenty of antidotes. We had a small tent, grocery 

 box, etc., etc., and got along splendidly: our whole load 

 weighed about 1, 000 pounds. The nights were generally very 

 cool, even in August. 



Take it altogether, it was one of the finest trips I ever had ; 

 full of excitement and variety all the Avay, with fishing to 

 satisfy, and even satiate, the fondest lover of angling. " As 

 for expenses, you can go from Boston to Edmundston for 

 $20, the rest of the trip will cost one from $50 to $100, ac- 

 cording to tastes and economy used therein. It is on one of 

 these trips that one is near to Nature's heart, and from com- 

 munion with her amid her grandest shrines one gains strength 

 to go forth and labor more heartily in the sphere to which 

 he mav be called. O. Jacobus. 



Matawan, N. J, 



DOWN THE YUKON ON A RAFT. 



BY LIEUT. FRED'K SCHWATKA, U. S. ARMY. 



Ninth Paper. 



AFTER redecking the raft, which was completed one 

 afternoon, I thought I would take a stroll far into the 

 backwoods, for it had been reported that a number of fresh 

 moose tracks had been seen the night before near a fresh lake 

 where an over-zealous nimrod of the party, having no ap- 

 parent fear of the many mosquitoes, had tramped around 

 trying to get a shot at a band of mallards. My trip was a 

 complete failure, owing to the mosquitoes, that were so thick 

 that had any game been seen I doubt very much if a person 

 could have gotten a fair clear sight through the dense cloud 

 that continually hovered in front of the face, let alone the 

 other reasons which made it impossible owing to their pres- 

 ence. 



Early on the morning of the oth of July we again got 

 under way, our hearts much lighter for the fact that we 

 believed, according to our Indians with us, that the worst of 

 all the rapids and all other obstructions on the river were be- 

 hind us, and nothing ahead but "plain sailing" (and only one 

 lake of that some thirty or forty miles long) and plain float- 

 ing, subject to the annoyances that I have already depicted. 

 For the first few miles, after leaving the cascades, the waters 

 of the river are still very swift in a number of places, prob- 

 ably six or seven miles an hour, and occasionally wherehuge 

 boulders in the river bed protruded could still be called 

 rapids. 



The Tahk-heen-a was flowing very muddy water, and this 

 in a way confirmed the Indian reports that there were no 

 lakes along its course, for it had been noticed that however 

 muddy the inflowing stream of the head of the lake might 

 be, its emerging or draining river was always clear, and re- 

 mained so until it received the muddy waters of some stream 

 sufficiently large to tinge it, which was flowing directly from 

 the mountains, where the glaciers seemed to be the great 

 originators of this murkiuess. Thus the lakes were the 

 great receptacles of this transported material, and of course 

 it was a mere matter of time, in a geological sense, when 

 they would be filled up by it, and become mere "bottom 

 lands," covered with willow, birch, poplar and other riparian 

 trees; and this very filling up in fact seemed to have been 

 done in several places where ancient lakes, I believe, could 

 be traced. From the White River (the Sand River of the 

 Chilkats), a large tributary of the Yukon ninety miles below 

 the site of Selkirk, no lake interposes it« cuirenlkss waters 

 to allow the sediment to be deposited, and as this swift 

 stream literally flows liquid mud. the Yukon from its mouth 

 to the sea is "muddy," very muddy. As we bad expected, 

 this muddy water from the Tahk River spoiled our splendid 

 grayling fishing that we had other reasons to suppose— as 

 o-ravelly bottoms and swiff cm-rent— would continue tor some 

 time, and although they did not wholly desert us until TV bite 

 River was reached, we never again saw them in that abund- 

 ance that made a couple of rods sure of a good meal of fish 

 for the whole party after camping. Pretty well along in 

 the afternoon we saw the widening valley of the last lake on 

 the river open out before us. 



That evening, flock after flock of the large black ducks 

 with red heads, known in Puget Sound as "whistlers," went 

 scudding overhead, most of them flying southward. Not far 

 from our camp at the head of the. new lake was a totem pole 

 that was visited and found to be of the very roughest con- 

 struction, not comparing in carving with those of the Indi- 

 ans of the tide-water strip of Alaska. No house was any- 

 where near, and it seemed to be cut from a tall stump of ri 



could "not help having my doubt, knowing full well the 

 tribal tendency of this" great, family to consider their own 



