MAncti 19, 1685.1 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



143 



fashion. Soon after breakfast the packers went fishing, but, 

 came iu about noon without having had a bite. Most of the 

 day was spent about tbe fire, but toward the middle of the 

 afternoon it became rather stupid, and so I set up my rod 

 and started off up the river. I followed up the beach for 

 perhaps half a mile, and began casting at the tail of a long 

 reach of quiet water just above a swift, deep rapid. After a 

 few casts I caught a small trout, and then a larger one, 

 weighing perhaps three-quarters of a pound, then several 

 others of moderate size. They were strong, vigorous fish, 

 and their eager way of taking the fly was very pleasant to 

 feel. 1 followed down the swift water and had made a long 

 cast out toward the middle of tbe stream, when a huge fish, 

 which looked about the size of a North River shad, rose to 

 my tail fly, a brown hackle; but in his eagerness missed it, 

 and sprang over it, showing his full length out of the water. 

 I cast again over the same spot, but this time recovered my 

 flies more slowly. He rose again, and just at the right 

 instant I struck and had him fast. For a moment he seemed 

 too much astonished to do anything, but he soon recovered 

 himself and then came the fight. His first move was to 

 make a strong rush toward the deepest water of 

 the rapid, during which he twice sprang into 

 the air, shaking himself savagely to see if in 

 that way he could not free his jaws from the tiny steel. 

 Then suddenly he turned and came back toward the rod, 

 throwing himself out of the water as if trying to fall upon 

 the line. All this availing him nothing, he started down the 

 river at top speed, and so furious was his rush that I did not 

 dare attempt to check him. but when the Jine was nearly all 

 out started after him, running along the slippery stones of 

 the beach and through the pools of water left by tbe river, 

 as if it had been a salmon that was fast instead of a trout. 

 At length he stopped and began to sulk, and I took up all 

 the line I could aud then soon had him moving again. He 

 now developed a new set of tactics, and began to stand on 

 his head and shake himself from side to side so as to bring 

 all the strain possible on the line, and then would give a 

 series of tugging jerks, continuing for several minutes, and 

 at length began to tlrrow himself over and over in the water 

 as if to twist the line, and then by a sudden rush to break it. 

 When at length I succeeded in getting him close to the 

 shore, and he saw me, he began again his long rushes, which 

 he continued until he became exhausted. I had no landing 

 net and dared not attempt to lift him from the water, but 

 finding a place where the beach was shelving, I drew him 

 out by the leader and soon had him safely in my hands. He 

 was a handsome fish, very deep and thick, yet with length 

 enough to make his shape a very graceful one. What his 

 weight was I do not know, for I had lost my scales, but he 

 was very large, probably more than four pounds. It took 

 me twenty -four minutes to land him, and I never gave him 

 an inch of line except when absolutely forced to do so in 

 order to save my tackle from breaking. The battle with 

 this fish was the event of the afternoon, and although a few 

 more trout were taken, there was no struggle at all compar- 

 able with this one. 



The fishing over, I collected my catch and turned toward 

 the camp. The rain had ceased, but white clouds hung low 

 over the valley and concealed the mountains on either side of 

 the valley. As I walked down the beach, however, the 

 western sky grew lighter, and for a few moments the sun 

 struggled to break through the clouds, but in vain. Then 

 suddenly far down the valley the white wall that shut out 

 the view broke away, and I could see the tremendous moun- 

 tain mass of the Teton Range. I paused and gazed, waiting 

 for the rent to close up again. Through it I could see, like 

 a picture in its frame, the mountains, not dark and gray, as 

 they had hitherto appeared, but white in all the purity of 

 4heir newly-assumed mantle of snow. And as I gazed the 

 break in the clouds moved rapidly northward, exposing one 

 mountain after another, each more beautiful thau the one 

 seen just before, About the needle peak of the Grand Teton 

 hung a wreath of mist which concealed it, and added to 

 rather than took from its height. It was a fleeting vision, 

 for just after the rift had passed Moran, the clouds came 

 together. I had had my glimpse into the glories beyond, 

 and, though I waited, the veil did not lift again, and with 

 this beautiful memory in my heart I returned to camp. 



Mas. Glass's Famous Recipe for cooking a hare was proved 

 in an English police court the other day to have become obso- 

 lete. The new rule reads: "First catch your cat." The 

 discoverer of the new principle, like many another pro- 

 pounder of novelties, was arrested, tried, convicted and sent 

 to prison. This was on complaint of the numerous individ- 

 uals whose pet cats she had stolen, skinned and sold on pre- 

 tense that they were Scotch hares. It is to be noted that the 

 people Who bought and ate the game, made no complaint; 

 and the woman herself deposed that her own family ate the 

 cats, and that the meat tasted like that of a rabbit. 



Present Range oe the Buffalo.— The attention of our 

 readers, who are familiar with the old buffalo ranges is called 

 to Mr. Allen's note in our Natural History columns. It is ex- 

 tremely important that the materials for the closing chapter 

 in the history of this animal should be accumulated at 

 once, and the task of writing this chapter naturally falls to 

 Mr. Allen, Every one who can contribute any facts about 

 the buffalo should do so immediately. We shall hope to 

 hear from our Western readers at once. 



THE BUCKTA1L IN FLORIDA, 



ii. 



I DATE as below for good and sufficient reasons. It was 

 in December last that I received a letter from Capt. S. D. 

 Kendall, in which he said, "Hillo, 'Nessmuk!' What's got 

 you? Are you coming?" The thermometer was then mark- 

 ing 20° below zero at my Northern home, I was sick in body 

 and spirit, and it was impressed ou my mind that the raw, 

 slushy months of February and March were destined to 

 wind up my cruising unless I could reach a move genial 

 clime. And I said yes, I am coming. 1 cannot say when or 

 how, but sometime, somehow, 1 will get there. ' Pick me 

 out a high, dry camping ground well shaded by live-oaks, 

 preferably on Lake Butler, I think; but you will know best, 

 And— I am coming. And when, after many delays, I at 

 length launched the canoe for a visit to the Springs with 

 the Captain, I felt as one who returns home after a weari- 

 some jouruey. 



I wanted to see the Captain's selection of a camping ground 

 at once, but he had been telliug people about the little canoe 

 and how I was coming a long distance to visit him, and had 

 promised to pilot the Bucktai) to the Springs at once on her 

 arrival. "And there are some good people" there to whom I 

 would like to introduce you,' : he added. 



So, with his Jong, sharp canoe, the LinuieM., ou the 

 lead, we paddled up to the landing at Tarpon Springs, the 

 first time that two double-Waders- had ever made the land- 

 ing, the Captain said, "For the single canoe is not common 

 on the gulf coast of Florida." 



Of course the Bucktail was looked upon with much in- 

 terest and curiosity, for she belongs to a class of cruisers not 

 much in use hereabout; and doubts were expressed if she 

 could live in a topsail breeze, even ou Lake Butler. I had 

 little to say. I am likely to stay long enough to test her sea- 

 going qualities fairlv. If it should turn out that she will live 

 "outside" it will be known of men. If not, the least said the 

 better. 



When we had spent half a day visiting in the little village, 

 I suggested that we return, get dinner, and take a w r alk to 

 inspect my future camping ground. I had been introduced 

 to more people thau I could remember, and had met genial 

 welcome from all, but my soul was thirsting for a camp, and 

 an outdoor life among the live-oaks. The Captain explained, 

 however, that a week or so devoted to visiting and getting 

 better acquainted would be more iu order. Besides, Mrs. K. 

 had expended considerable time aud labor gcttiug up a cosy 

 corner in the loft where the Captain builds" his boats, and it 

 would hurt her if I only occupied it for two or three nights. 

 Then it was absolutely necessary that any man camping on 

 the lower Anclote should become acquainted with th.e 

 devious windings, bays, bayous, and cut-offs of that tortuous 

 stream in the last six miles of its course. Besides, it was 

 the home of the cheerful 'gator, which, he assumed, I was 

 anxious to shoot. The two salt lakes and Butler Lake also 

 needed investigation. The latter was noted for the size and 

 quantity of its black bass (called here green trout), and he 

 thought they would take it as a compliment if a tourist should 

 offer them a choice of gaudy flies, which is something they 

 are not accustomed to. 



So I put myself in the hands of my friends, and the Captain 

 led me into and out of cut-offs, channels, bayous and strange 

 places for nearly a week, until my arms were so lame and 

 swollen that I was absolutely disabled for further paddling,-, 

 and forced to call a halt. Then we took it on foot among 

 the pines and live-oaks, the latter standing alone or in groups 

 of three to a dozen, The pines are pretty evenly distributed 

 all over the higher, dryer land, and the palmettos line the 

 shores of lakes, rivers, gulfs and bays. They are the three 

 principal trees of the Gulf Coast, though the scrubby jack 

 oak is met with every where, and is of little use, save as fuel, 

 for which it is excellent, even when in a green state. 



We went over to Lake Butler by way of Salt Lake, and I 

 took along the fly-rod, with a few bass flies. Considering 

 that the bass were entirely unacquainted with this mode of 

 capture, their behavior was all that the most ardent fisher- 

 man could ask. I had not made half a dozen casts when a 

 fine big-mouth took his chances ou a split ibis, and after 

 monkeying with the reel for a quarter of an hour, was gently 

 led to a white sandy beach, where the Captain deftly gaffed 

 him by thumbiug his under jaw. We 'had no means of 

 weighing him, but he was more than a meal for three hungry 

 persons. 



"Go a little slow with that light rod," said the Captain, 

 "bass are taken here sometimes of over ten pounds weight.'' 

 Just then another and larger one attempted to immolate him- 

 self on the split ibis. He succeeded in getting on to the hook 

 in very good shape. But, whether it was my fault or 

 whether the wood was defective. I shall never know. Any- 

 how, he snapped the tip like a pipestem and went his ways. 

 Now that he has got a little used to this mode of angling, I 

 presume he will take to it kindly, aud I may hook him again, 

 but with a Henshall rod and a stronger tackle all rouud. 



On both of the Salt lakes, as well as on Lake Butler, I 

 noted some very fine camping grounds, to which I called the 

 Captain's attention. He agreed with me that they were nice 

 spots, romantic, and all that; but wauled me to look at his 

 selection before deciding on a camp. 



And so, on the following morning, we took a walk through 

 the open, park-like pine forest to a high, dry point of land 

 between the Anclote and Lower Salt Lake. And just where 

 a bend of the river left a fine bayou to the left was the spot. 

 It was chosen by a cruiser and canoeist, as well as veteran 

 woodsman, and it was chosen well. It did not take me live 

 minutes to decide on making a camp there sufficiently per- 

 manent and comfortable for any length of time I might 

 choose to stay. The site was enough to cheer the heart of 

 any outer; and, though description is not my forte, 1 may as 

 well mentiou a few leading features. First, "it is only one and 

 three-quarter miles from the springs, and three-quarters of a 

 mile from the Captain's ranch by land, and dry, open walk- 

 ing through the piny woods. There are about three score 

 live-oaks standing in clumps, and a clump of pine, the 

 largest, shade the spot chosen. They stood very closely, the 

 two outside ones being less than twelve feet apart, while the 

 two nearest together had their rugged trunks within less 

 than two feet of each other. The two northern ones were 

 just six and a half feet apart, and nature seemed to have 

 grown them there expressly to support the front of a shanty. 



Thirty yards to the north and northwest is the bayou, with 

 banks from ten to twenty feet high, and thickly lined with 

 live oak and palmetto; also it affords fine landings for the 

 canoeist, and at certain stages of the tide, swarms with chan- 

 nel bass and mullet. 



To the south and southeast is a grove-like slope of yellow 

 pine, between the trunks of which the clear waters of lower 

 Salt Lake are plainly seen, and beyond the bayou there is an 

 immense, marsh covered with a heavy growth of rushes 

 where the 'gator makes his home, and the marsh is relieved 

 at one point by a wooded island, on the lower end of which 

 is a fish-eagle's nest, looking from camp like a bushel basket 

 set in the very top of the tree. 



Before noon the next day I had bought lumber for the 

 camp and engaged Jake, the darkey drayman, to haul it to 

 the spot. 



And before dark the next clay, I was at work with hammer 

 and saw and square, putting the final touch to what I hope 

 may prove a pleasant, healthful resting place— with a reason- 

 able amount of out-door sport added— for many weeks to 

 come. 



When my first camp-fire of live oak and pine was burning 

 low, I took a hard coal and wrote on the clean pine boards, 

 in large letters, that he who runs may read: 



OAK POINT. 



February, 1885. 

 Camp Tarpon. 



N K. 



I cannot close without adding a word concerning the 

 weather. I am willing to believe that this season is quite 

 exceptional. That they speak the truth when they say that 

 the oldest settlers cannot remember such a season as the last 

 half of January and the fore part of the present month; 

 and that nine days out of ten are bright and pleasant in West- 

 ern Florida. It is my luck to have struck the tenth days pretty 

 much in a bunch. As a sample, take the last two nights in 

 camp, Night before last it rained from dusk till daylight. 

 The shanty roof proved ineffective against the rain, and the 

 entire duffle got generally moist. 1 " Yesterday forenoon 

 thatched roof with dwarf palmetto and snugged up the 

 camp for foul weather. Last evening there were thunder 

 storms around me in all directions, but it was not until 10 

 P. M. that a heavy one struck the camp, and it meant busi- 

 ness^ The furious wind drifted the rain in horizontal sheets, 

 the lightning was fierce and incessant, the thunder a heavy 

 article of constant quantity and excellent quality, and the 

 entire affair a display of grandeur and power well worth 

 turning out at midnight to see. The average outer would 

 probably suggest that it could as well be seen in a dry skin 

 from the windows of a comfortable hotel. And the average 

 outer would be all wrong. To thoroughly see and realize 

 such a magnificent display you want to take it in as I did 

 last night, from the open front of a little 7x5 shanty, moored 

 to a. couple of gnarled live oaks by the front cross pole, 

 where, by the vivid flashes, you can' look far down the 

 vistas of writhing pines and the long, gray beards of century 

 oaks. It was magnificent— but a little damp. 



Mem.— To go down to the Springs this A. M., get Jake to haul 

 some boards aud battens, buy nails and clotu for a front screen, lay 

 in a knapsack of supplies, and organize for tornadoes. 



Oh, I will get the hang of this Florida weather in one or 

 two more weeks of camping out. Nessmuk. 



Camp Tarpon, Feb. 8. 



RAMBLES IN THE WILDERNESS. 



Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, 

 Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. 

 The wise for cure on exercise depend; 

 God never made his wwk for man to mend, 



— Dry den. 



IF all mankind would follow this advise it would add 

 greatly to their happiness, and give the doctors a rest. 

 The field is a good place to "hunt for health," bnt the foun- 

 tain head is located in the wilderness, wherein is distilled the 

 "grand elixir to support human nature," and is free to all 

 who comply with the conditions. But the wilderness is fast 

 wearing away, and the question is frequently asked by 

 people in search of pleasant pastime and healthful recreation, 

 where can I find within easy access to the city, good hunting 

 and fishing? To such inquirers the Upper Peninsula offers 

 many pleasing attractions. And notwithstanding a few small 

 farms and hamlets dot its southwestern border along the 

 Menominee Elver, it is to all intents and purposes a wilder- 

 ness still, covered with extensive forests of pine, intermingled 

 with swamps of cedar, tamarack and balsam fir. seamed 

 with water courses and dotted with lakes. A considerable 

 portion of this land has very little intrinsic value after the 

 timber has been removed, except iu some few places where 

 minerals abound, and many thousand acres have reverted to 

 the State through non-payment of taxes, and will always be 

 held as public domain, and will for many years to come afford 

 good sport if the present laws for the protection of game are 

 respected or suitably enforced. Aud notwithstanding fre- 

 quent incursions of the detestable deer-fiend and his odious 

 brother, the "trout-hog," there are yet large game and fish 

 found here in sufficient abundance and variety to satisfy the 

 wants and gratify the ambition of any considerate sportsman 

 who possesses the necessary skill to bag the game, which is 

 extremely wild in consequence of having been hunted so 

 much. Deer and ruffed grouse are quite plentiful. Black 

 bear, lynx aud foxes are often killed here, and the wolf fre- 

 quently manifests his presence at night by hideous howls. 

 They are a timid, skulking animal, aud seldom get in the 

 hunter's way— not if they know it. Trout (Salmofontinalis) 

 are quite plentiful in many of the streams, and especially in 

 the Brule River, thirty -seven miles beyond Waucedah, on 

 the Menominee River Railroad. 



A party consisting of G. E. Nichols, of Brooklyn, N. T. ; 

 W. Zeigier, New York city; "General" J. D. Wallace, 

 "Doctor" J. W. Farlin, Samuel Baker, C. H. Keihl, and 

 the writer (sometimes called the "Judge") and William (Mr. 

 Zeigler's colored cook) left here on the 9th of October last, 

 for a few weeks' vacation in the region known as the "Meno- 

 minee Range;" and presuming that some of your readers 

 may feel an interest in following the trail some day, I will 

 "blaze" it as we go along, 



Taking a sleeper on the Chicago and Northwestern Rail- 

 road at 9:05 P. M., we breakfasted at Marinette 7:50 A. M., 

 and crossing the Menominee River at this point, we arrived 

 at Powers (805 miles) at 10:10 A. M. Here we changed 

 cars to the Menominee Railroad, and arrived at Waucedah, 

 eleven miles further on, at 10:45 A. M. This was the ter- 

 minus of our ride by rail. Here Geo. Harter met us by ap- 

 pointment with two heavy teams to transport us to the 

 Menominee River, eighteen miles distant. 



There was a large amount of baggage, and it was piled 

 high above the wagon boxes, making it necessary to bind 

 the loads with strong ropes to prevent "breaking bulk" on 

 the way. The road was exceedingly rough ; the long, steep 

 hills were worn deep in ruts by recent rains, often taking 

 the wheels in up to the axle, and the wagons meanwhile 



