.Tttne 19, 1884.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



407 



touch is as familiar to gold as is the touch of many to dirt-he is faith- 

 ful, and will he, to death. His -'sweeps" turn to gold and Ins ' ppts 

 to silver, and we believe his "carats" are. liner hy reason of these days 

 with the' chosen few. . -..>-, 



There is auotner who means well, hut who is not quite so faithiul; 

 t.isheot ch« ready band. He delights ta the sport for sport's sake. 

 but also for wJiat it brings in its tram. For is not powder required, 

 Mid do not shot and shell play their part, and are not guns needful to 

 the play- Arid be will give you (for your money) what you need, and 

 perhaps a litt'e innre, for the influence of these days is healthful and 

 elevating-. ( May-it continue to be so !) 



Good-fellowship, common interest, cheerful spirit and proper emu- 

 lation mark these shooting days in "red letter." And we pity the 

 tired professional man, merchant, manufacturer, capitalist or em- 

 Moyee who does not belong to a "shooting club," and who cannot en- 

 joy" all that such a membership mates possible. B. 



» 



"That reminds me." 

 116. 



I^HE following is related by Col. Elder, a courteous and 

 entertaining officer of the regular army, stationed at 

 Fortress Monroe: 



Dr. S. prided himself upon his skill as a woodsman and 

 rifle shot; but his merit in this regard was not recognized by 

 an uncharitable world. One day he and Captain B. went 

 out- deer hunting. They separated, and soon the Captain 

 heard his companion shoot. A moment later a terror-stricken 

 calf rushed frantically by, and bad scarcely disappeared in 

 the bushes before the Doctor ran up and inquired if the Cap- 

 tain had seeu the deer, which he was sure was mortally 

 wounded, pass that way. "Why, Doctor," exclaimed the 

 Captain, "is il possible that you took that calf for a deer?" 



The Doctor's countenance 'lengthened; and then "a light 

 on his visage spread," and he replied: "I was not, certain 

 whether it 'was a calf or a deer, audi therefore aimed so 

 that I would hit if a deer, or miss it if turned out to be a 

 calf." N. 8. 



117. 



Away down in Dorchester, New Brunswick, lives Deacon 

 Willard Lawrence, who, outside of his piety, is as fond of 

 his gun as the most, inveterate sportsman. Yesterday (Sun- 

 day, March 30) on his way home from prayers, a small boy 

 rushed excitedly up to him and pointed out a flock of about 

 twenty wild geese, that had settled on the marsh near the 

 shore "of tbe M emraincook River. They were the first of the 

 season, and the deacon's blood bounded; but with a mental 

 "Get thee behind me, Satan," he resolutely went into the 

 house and took up the family Bible. 



Failing to get interested, betook down his gun and looked 

 at the loads. Three A in one barrel, No. 1 in the other. 

 He would just go down and see if he would have had any 

 chance to get at the geese, had it been a week day. In his 

 absent-mindedness betakes his gun along and goes to his 

 side-wheel punt on the river bank, and sits looking fondly at 

 the huge birds which are walking slowly toward him. The 

 tide, which has a rise there of thirty feet, soon lifts bis boat, 

 and he lets her slowty drift up the stream. 



Suddenly three black ducks swim out of a cove and come 

 toward him in a Hue. Habit is stronger than faith, and he 

 blazes away instinctively, and in a trice the three birds are 

 in the boat at his feet. But the noise of the gun startled the 

 creese on the marsh and they lazily raised and swung over 

 into the river about forty rods away. Alas for the orthodox 

 deacon ; the hunter's spirit is mighty within him, and seiz- 

 ins; I ue cranks of his paddle wheels he slowly but steadily 

 turns toward the game, each revolution of the paddle wheels 

 bringing him nearer his quarry. Three birds in range; 

 hang— and it is done, and with the six birds the good man 

 returned to his home. 



In relating at the next class meeting his temptation and 

 fall from grace, among his experiences, notwithstanding his 

 self-abasement and repentance, it was thought there was just 

 a slight ring of satisfaction in bis voice as he described the 

 way in which those three geese tumbled over at one shot. 

 Akbhee. 



118. 



It used to be common in the good old by-gone times for 

 the rustic farmer boys on the banks of Holsten, a beautiful 

 stream in Southwest Virginia, to fish of spring nights, under 

 pine torches, armed with cedar bow T s and small "gigs" on 

 their arrows, which, by the way, they shot with the accuracy 

 almost of an Indian. 



Pete Totten, a conglomerate mixture of Dutch and Irish, 

 a little dried up fire and-tow fellow, tallow-faced, with little 

 patches of thin beard, yellow, stringy hair, towlinnen 

 breeches and one yarn "gallis," lived near a large family of 

 boys, whom he called "Grimeses," a set forever torturing 

 Pete, yet this had a charm for him. 



Pete and the Grimeses were one night at their favorite 

 sport of torch fishing, and as they approached a long sandy 

 bar Pete says: "Er, er boys, look out for eels." Tete, who 

 was barefooted, had his bow at a present and arrow fast on 

 the string ready to shoot, and instead of a noisy stride he 

 kept his left foot stuck out in front, quietly sliding it along 

 in the sand. Presently Pete squared himself and said, "Er, 

 erstop; gad, boys, here's the biggest eel in the Holsten!" 

 Pete took a long, steady pull on his bowstring; and "chuck" 

 went the cruel arrow. "0, lardy, lardy! heavens and 

 yeth!" cried poor Pete, as he involuntarily cast his bow over 

 his head and fell backward in the water, his foot lifted 

 above, with the barbed arrow through his bleeding big toe. 

 The Grimeses carried him to the bank, where they forcibly 

 extracted the arrow with the aid of a barlow knife, Pete 

 now and then saying, "Er, er, darn you Grimeses, you'd 

 laugh to see me die." Graeme. 



119. 



Some ten years ago, in a village not fifty miles from 

 Brooklyn Bridge, there was considerable rivalry as to who 

 biought in the finest strings of trout. Among the lot who 

 were striving for supremacy was my friend Dan 0. He 

 could generally tell of bigger strings and bigger trout than 

 the others. 



Dan went off trout fishing one day, and just outside of the 

 village he espied a small Dutch boy, with a bean pole and a 

 cord for a line, swishing a very large fish about in the creek. 

 Dan saw that it was a trout of over three pounds weight. 

 The boy told how he had got it stuck fast between two step- 

 ping stones in the creek and had struck it on Ike head with 

 his pole, and then tied it to his line to have some fun with 

 if. It did not take Dan many minutes to catch that trout 

 from the boy with a ten cent bait, and both went off happy. 

 In a few hours Dan returned, went into the grocery as cool 



as bis excitement would allow, and tried to make it appear 

 a.n-cyery-time-I-go-a-nVhing occurrence to catch a trout. The 

 palm was at once awarded to him, and the fish spread a 

 gleam of truth to his sitting on-a-banvl stories. 



After the boys had all seen it, he presented it to the most 

 popular gentleman in the village. That night the boys were 

 in full force in the back part of the grocery, and Dan wits 

 reciting to them how he hooked the fish, the rushes for lib- 

 erty it, made, how he worked it up and down stream, the 

 narrow escapes he had of losing it around a big boulder, how 

 it got under a bank and sulked, then of how he had to get 

 into the creek up to his middle in water to keep clear of the 

 brush, and finally bow he led the prize to a little sandbank, 

 got behind it, and threw it out on the bank. He had just 

 finished his glowing description when a big Dutch woman 

 and a little boy came into the back part of the store, The 

 boy walked up to Dan, pointed his finger, and said "Him." 

 The woman held out the ten cent bait, and addressed Dan: 



"Mishter C -s, the pig vish my poy catch vas ash pig ash 



vorth two tollar," and she demanded the fish back or two 

 dollars, or she would make trouble for him for cheating bet- 

 little boy. Dan forked out the two dollars. A. MAO, 



hd mid Mivtr 



CAMPS OF THE KINGFISHERS. 



Black Lake, Michigan.-Vl . 



A MILE or two from where we saw the deer, a small 

 cleared spot in the woods at the water's edge, and the 

 tinkle of a Jittle stream running into the lake, invited us 

 ashore to slake our thirst with the first *"clear, cool, spring 

 water" we had found since leaving 1 camp. On getting out", 

 we found this cleared patch of a few rods in area to be the 

 site of the Hughes party's camp of the previous year, recog- 

 nizing it by his description of the little stream. 



The source of this stream, as near as we could see, was a 

 snarl of cedar roots a short distance back in the swamp, from 

 under which it gurgled into a clear, shallow basin, of per- 

 haps fifteen or twenty yards in circumlerence, and found its 

 way through a tangle of bushes into the lake four or five 

 rods away. " 



in this basin Brother Hughes had told us he saw three or 

 four small trout the year before, but a cautious and careful 

 scrutiny of the little pool failed to show us even a sign of 

 any kind of fish, and we concluded that the aforementioned 

 trout must have been small barred perch that had escaped 

 fiom their minnow box, the remains of which we had seen 

 at the mouth of the brook. 



Reasoning from this tale of the small trout some months 

 before, we bad hoped to find somewhere around tbe lake a 

 stream or two in which might be found trout of larger 

 growth, but after a careful look into every one flowing into 

 if, within the next four days, we were convinced there was 

 not one in which a respectable trout, could procure an honest, 

 living, and we were forced to appease the craving of our 

 "trout tooth" with fish of grosser fibre. 



Leaving the basin we strolled around the clearing, finding 

 plenty of "sign" of a not very old camp. Here stood a 

 couple of upright poles with a ridge-pole still in place; over 

 there against a tree was an old settee in the rough, which 

 showed considerable skill in workmanship, and near by were 

 the marks where the tents had stood. If all other signs had 

 been lacking of some one having been there before us, there, 

 lying in the sand was the tell-tale old oyster can and fruit 

 can, battered and weather-stained, its mission performed 

 and cast aside to be trampled under foot or be kicked out of 

 the way by the next comer. Broken bottles scattered around 

 in some profusion, several with the labels still adhering to 

 them, proclaimed that the last campers belouged not to the 

 "prohibition party," as the legends on the bottles were mostly 

 in the French and Kentucky languages, with Kentucky 

 slightly in the majority. As we walked back to the boat, 

 Dick remarked in his dulcet mezzo soprano, "Must a' had a 

 revival 'round here from the looks o' the bottles; don't won- 

 der at 'em seem' trout in that little pond." 



Back out to the edge of tbe bar again we went to fishing in 

 earnest, but we must have done something that day to set 

 the fish against us, for not a fin could we stir, nor could we 

 see a fish of any kind anywhere on the broad expanse of the 

 shallows inshore as far as our eyes could reach; however, 

 we were enjoying ourselves this quiet lovely day like a col- 

 ored brother in a "water million patch," and we persuaded 

 ourselves that we didn't care much whether we took any fish 

 or not, we were merely exploring and studying the waters. 



Dick lit a fresh pipe, and hitching himself a trifle to star- 

 board in obedience to a nod to trim boat, summed up the 

 measure of his content by saying, "Now, some fellers want 

 to catch a fish every five minutes, but I don't. Of course, I 

 like to catch one once in a while to keep my hand in, but I'm 

 enjoyin' this boat ride [I was at the oars] an' the scenery so 

 well that it's perfectly imperial to me whether 1 catch a fish 

 to-day or not." 



Dick is clearly a philosopher. 



A mile or two further up the aspect of the shore changed, 

 a low wooded hill pushing down to the water in place of the 

 flat strip of bottom land and swamp we had been coasting 

 along ever since leaving the place we had first landed. 



The bank along here for some distance, and oat into the 

 water for several yards, was lined with a layer of boulders, 

 large and small, so evenly distributed that in places it looked 

 like a wall built by the band of a master mason. Here, and 

 at the ledge at the head, are the only rocky formations to be 

 found around the whole shore line of the lake. 



We had reeled up aud left tbe outer bar and as we rowed 

 along close in shore a little stream trickling down through 

 the rocks said plainly to us. "Come in out of the hot sun, ye 

 luckless fishermen, and cool your parched gullets with a cup 

 of my crystal waters." In response to this invitation we 

 pulled the boat up on the rocks and pushing our way through 

 a fringe of bushes at the top of the bank found ourselves 

 unexpectedly in a small hay field, surrounded^on three sides 

 by woods. The hay had recently been mown and cocked 

 but nowhere could we discover a sign of a habitation except 

 a small dog tent a few rods back m the field in which we 

 found the household furniture of the party who had, no 

 doubt, harvested the hay. This was in the shape of an old 

 blanket, a small box containing a knife, fork, tin cup and a 

 piece of bread hard enough to break up into flints, and just 

 in frout were an old frying-pan and a little black coffee' pot 

 near the remains of a small fire, all of which had the appear- 

 ance of not having been used for a week or more. 



* This is solely a matter of information for brother "P. D.," not un- 

 known to fame as a whilom contributor to the pages of Fokest and 

 Stream.— K, 



But as we were not particularly interested in this solitary 

 camper, we left the meager outfit undisturbed; Dick remark 

 ing reflectively that "front the general look o* things, that 

 (Viler must have been play in' boss, as he could see nothing 

 to eat around there but hay." Down in a comer of the 

 field, near the 1op of the bank, we found a cool little spring. 

 Availed up with ricks and nearly hidden by overhanging 

 bushes, which proved to be the fountainhead'of the rivulet 

 running into the lake near where we had left the boat. 



After drinking our fill at the spring, we combined a stroke 

 of business with the pleasure of our ramble by adding a half 

 dozen frogs to the bucket, which we caught along the 

 marshy strip on either side of the spring branch; not that we 

 had found any special use for frogs that day, but it is always 

 well to provide against being caught short in the matter of 

 bait should the fish form a combination against you and call 

 for more than you can put up, Dick must have had some- 

 thing like this on his mind, his look ahead lor sport to come 

 taking shape and voice as he made a sudden dive into the 

 marsh, exclaiming, as he came to a perpendicular with a 

 handful of mud, grass and frog, "Let no speckled frog 

 escape!" 



Back in the boat again, we pulled out to the break of the 

 bar and began fishing, but with all our arts and wiles we 

 could not induce a fish to accept auy of our most seductive 

 lures and promises of gentle handling. All our knowledge 

 of the gentle art availed us nothing; our "science" was 

 wasted ou the desert air, and we made up our minds that 

 the whims of fish are governed by no conditions of wind or 

 weather when they take a notion that they won't bite; that 

 their ways are peculiar and slippery — fish ways, so to speak, 

 and past the understanding of man. Here were Dick and I, 

 two old veterans of the rod, with venerable streaks of silver 

 running through our (self ) respected locks, fishing from early 

 morn till high noon over miles of as good looking water as 

 ever a cast was made over, on a perfect day, with the wind 

 just right according to all traditions and teachings, and not 

 s single, solitary sign or symptom of a nibble. We had 

 thought we knew a thing or two about the habits of bass and 

 whereto look for them, but to-day the results of a patient 

 study of years, all the well-thumbed and fine-spun theories 

 beloved of the craft were knocked higher'n a kite, and our 

 smartness as bass fishers received a shock from which it took 

 many days to recover, and it is a matter of serious doubt if 

 we ever do get entirely over it; at least, it will be a long 

 time before we hear the last of that day's fishing from tbe 

 boys. 



Hereafter, let no brother, overburdened with "bass smart- 

 ness" — as we were — have the hardihood to%ay to Dick and 

 the writer that be can pick out a day and go out and catch 

 as many bass as he may have a mind to; we'll none of it. 



We were now well up to the head of the lake and in plain 

 sight of the bridge over Rainy River, and as the sun had 

 tilted over the noon mark some distance, we decided to beach 

 our boat somewhere near the mouth of the river and eat our 

 lunch. The water seemed to get blacker as we neared the 

 upper end of the lake, and all along here, as far out as the 

 deep water, we found streaks of "musrat grass" and patches 

 of scattering bulrushes growing up from the bottom— but 

 no fish. 



A solitary Mossback in a boat, coming from the direction 

 of the Rocks, was hailed as he passed by us, and asked if he 

 could point out auy particular locality where a few bass 

 might be found by diligent search. Pausing a minute, he 

 replied, "You're right on the best, bass water in the part o' 

 tbe lake— ketched any?" "Nary a one," was answered. 

 "Well, if you don't ketch 'em round here, you won't ketch 

 none nowhere. I've ketched many a whopper round here 

 in this grass" (bet that's a whopper, whispered Dick), and 

 the oars fell, and he was off in the direction of the hay field 

 we had just left, — the same "feller," Dick guessed, "that 

 had been playin' hoss." As no whoppers or any ether kind 

 seemed to be hankering after frog, fly or spoon, we reeled 

 up and went ashore near the mouth of the Rainy to rest, eat 

 a cold dinner, and figure up how many fish we should have 

 taken since leaving camp. 



The water of this river is very dark colored, but from 

 where we stood on the bridge we could see the bottom 

 plainly for twenty or thirty yards above. The stream here 

 is not" wide, sixty or seventy feet perhaps, with a depth of 

 six or eight feet of water and a sluggish current that is 

 hardly perceptible. Swimming aimlessly along the bottom 

 here aud there we saw several great lazy "red horse" and 

 suckers, but we looked in vain for sign of minnow or other 

 small fry that we might turn to account for bait. 



A few days after this we made the acquaintance of a lum- 

 berman who had a logging camp and a gang of men a season 

 or tw y o before on Rainy Lake, and who had explored all the 

 region around the headwaters of the Rainy and Little Black 

 rivers. Rainy Lake, he said, was five or six miles long and 

 in places a mile wide, and was simply a widening out of the 

 river twenty-five or thirty miles from the mouth. The 

 stream reaches back forty or fifty miles into a vpry wild 

 region, where none but the red man, a few hardy lumber- 

 men, or an adventurous hunter have ever kindled a camp- 

 fire or broken the silence of the woods with crack of rifle. 



To reach the lake by boat or canoe would, he said, be a 

 work of great labor, as a series of sharp and turbulent rapids 

 some miles further up would have to be surmounted, yet it 

 might be done with much muscle, skill and perseverance, 

 but the better way would be to haul a boat from Black Lake 

 over a sort of blind road they had maoe going in and com- 

 ing out as supplies were needed for their camp. He said the 

 region around and above Rainy Lake was a paradise for a 

 fisherman or hunter, deer and bear being abundant, and the 

 lake swarming with black bass lhat "bit" so eagerly that it 

 was only the matter of a few hours' labor to jerk out enough 

 three, four and five pounders to last them several days, and 

 furnish a party like ours rare sport for a week. 



All this, and more of the same kind was told us one day 

 under his little open shanty near the mouth of the Little 

 Black (he was waiting for a run of logs coming down the 

 river), where four or five of us had sought shelter during a 

 two-hours hard rain storm, and as he was a man of intelli- 

 gence, a good talker and seemed to be thoroughly posted 

 about the region he spoke of, his tales of the woods and ad- 

 ventures on the Upper Rainy and Little Black rivers were 

 keenly relished by every one of his listeners, and I believe 

 we were all sorry when the rain storm was over and we went 

 back to plain pickerel fishing. 



Neighbor Merrill told us, too, that he had been on several 

 hunts in the wilds above Rainy Lake, and the stories he told 

 about the big game of the region drained by the Rainy and 

 Little Black so worked up the old uimrod in two or three of 

 us that it came near resulting in our discarding the rod for 

 the, rifle and striking a bee hue for Rainy Lake to spend a 

 week or ten days in the heart of these solitudes in serene con- 



