410 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 18, 1885. 



"I thought I was a goner once, fur Kit kin run like a deer 

 an' was a reachin' mighty close far rny suspenders, but I jest 

 teched myself in the flank with the spur, figgeratively speak- 

 in', as ye might say, an' then ye ought to a seen the sand fly; 

 'xpect Kit must a got more'n a bushel of it in her eyes, an' 

 that's what saved my bacon. Jest write it down, Hickory, 

 in that notebook you're keepin' in yer head, that there's heaps 

 o' fun in this camp an' Hyperboler is lookin' around fur his 

 share of it. " 



It may be in explanation that Ben was called Hyperboler 

 (accent on third syllable) by the girls on account of a very 

 marked tendency to indulge freely in hyperbole when tell- 

 ing a story or relating in his inimitable manner his varied 

 experiences by flood and field, and Hyperboler stuck to him 

 till camp broke and he will no doubt be hailed by it when 

 the next carnp is made. 



Jim's wife was honored as "Mother Jim" for the reason, 

 as Bob said, that she was the only married woman in the 

 party, and where there were so many girls— there would be 

 two more next day— there ought to be a mother to look after 

 and keep them straight. The blessed little woman entered 

 into the spirit of the thing with great glee, and thereafter it 

 was Mother Jim and the children. 



And we could see, too, that Jim was pleased ah over at 

 the good feeling manifested toward his wife, as evidenced by 

 the grin that made strenuous efforts to reach clear to the out- 

 skirls of his beaming countenance, but failed, as the territory 

 to be covered was to much for one grin. Truly, it was the 

 happy family. 



We sat and talked and joked till darkness came down and 

 the smudge went out, and, outside of the rays of the solitary 

 lantern on the table, nothing was to be seen but black 

 shadows, except a faint shimmer on the water where a bright 

 star shed its luster on the bosom of the tranquil lake. The 

 conversation took a turn in keeping with surroundings, and 

 finally dropped to a few scattering remarks addressed chiefly 

 to our enemy, the tuneful and ever-cheerful pest of the North 

 "Woods. 



The labors and pleasures of the day were over, eyelids 

 grew heavy, and we sought our beds and the protection of 

 the mosquito bars, to be lulled to sleep by the lonely cries of 

 a trio of loons, whose wailing notes came quavering over the 

 water to us from far up the lake. Kingfisher, 



[to be continued.] 



them. I have always thought that at this season of the year 

 large fish feed generally in the early morning, and when it is 

 raining hard. 



Let your fly or your bait fall as near the plunging water 

 as you can and then float out. And remember that it is not 

 necessary to cast far out for trout; even large ones, when 

 they are feeding, come very near the shore. 



All that the suggesfcor of these devices will ask of "Squat- 

 ter" is that he tell the readers of Forest and Stream if he 

 succeed in catching the wily fish. 



Knock an old stump or log to pieces for the wood worms 

 and watch any person breaking up "sod ground," or even 

 digging in a garden for the white grubs, Stim-aboy. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



If "Squatter" can find a nest of young mice he will have 

 no trouble in catching some of the large trout, he seems to 

 want. Hook the mouse through the uape of the neck, and 

 with favorable conditions of weather he will be almost sure 

 of success. I don't care for any of the catch, as trout shipped 

 from Massachusetts to Minnesota would hardly be trout on 

 arrival here. June. 



Minneapolis, Minn., June 10. 



MINNESOTA FISHING. 



AT 3 P. M. on Wednesday afternoon of last week, Clark 

 Bldred and myself started out to interview the fish, 

 my first haudling of the rod this season. 



After securing a bucket of minnows for bait, we pulled up 

 across Swan Lake, using a trolling line, designing to do our 

 still-fishing in other waters. Before reaching the head of 

 the lake we had captured nine good-sized pickerel, and a 

 huge old muskanonge had snapped my line in two, and made 

 off with my trolling spoon. Leaving our boat at the head 

 of Swan Lake, forty rods of travel brought us to MonsLake, 

 where we borrowed another craft, and making our way to 

 the inlet commenced still-fishing. The first fish to come 

 aboard was a wall-eyed pike weighing seven pounds, shortly 

 followed by another weighing two pounds more. When the 

 sun went down and we turned our faces homeward, we had 

 taken exactly fifty fish, and the fifty fish average fully three 

 pounds each. Not a bad catch for a part of one afternoon. 



Just before we left Mons Lake Eldred made a strike, fas- 

 tening to one of the largest fishes 1 ever saw in Western 

 waters. Having no reel Eldred could only brace himself 

 and hang on, but first his rod and then his line yielded to 

 the tremendous strain and the fish was free. I saw the fish 

 distinctly and am confident it was fully five feet in length, 

 and would weigh thirty-five to forty pounds. 



Long Lake, three miles from this village, is the best fish- 

 ing ground I ever saw. I am glad to say, and I have no axe 

 to grind, save that I want others to have as good sport as I 

 have myself, that Mr. J. S. Grover of this town can furnish 

 excellent accommodations for small parties, and furnish 

 team and boats. J . Frank Locke. 



Pillsbttry, Todd County, Minn. 



WHAT BAIT? 



Editor Foi'csi and, Stream: 



I have fished for just such trout as "Squatter" speaks 

 of and have had others near by doing the same, and 

 when I was entirely discouraged, my Indian told me 

 to try the back under fin of a small trout, for I had 

 caught some small ones. Now if "Squatter" will try 

 this and tell me the results, so that 1 may compare them with 

 mine, 1 will be obliged to him. And if it does not succeed I 

 will send him a fly which an Indian of a good deal of experi- 

 ence showed me how to make, and if that won't catch them 

 nothing will. Hope to hear from "Smuggler." H. G-., Jr. 



Albany, N. Y. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In answer to "Squatter" I would suggest that should he 

 hunt along the banks of the stream and procure some kind 

 of crawfish or water-worm of any kind, the trout would be 

 more likely to bite, as the bait used would not be strange to 

 them. Nimrod, Jr. 



Leavenworth. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I do not know that I ever failed myself in capturing any 

 large trout that I knew the whereabouts of, and I see no 

 reason why "Squatter" should not have the fish that belongs 

 for. Let "Squatter" go to the pools very early in the morn- 

 ing (say when it is hardly daylight) and try a white miller 

 and any slate-colored or drab fly. If neither of these suc- 

 ceed be provided with some worms that have been kept in 

 damp moss for two or three days, or with some white grubs, 

 as they are commonly called, or better yet, perhaps, wood- 

 worms or borers. Try these one after the other. 



Should they all fail to tempt the cunning fish, a small dace 

 or a bright-colored minnow may be tried. But should none 

 of these succeed in the morning, then go to the pools late in 

 the evening and try the white miller again, and then the bait 

 until it is quite dark. 



The early morning after a thunderstorm, the afternoon or 

 evening before, I have always found the best for large fish. 

 Stand well back from the pool when you cast. It is a good 

 plan to notice the character of the little fish that may swim 

 around the edge of the pool, if there are any, or the worms 

 and flies that may drop from the trees into the water. Some- 

 times they make excellent bait. 



However, I think the early morning, with the flies and 

 bait that I have named, will do the work. The fish can be 

 caught if "Squatter" has the time and pafAence-to give to 



A TRIP TO RACCOON STRAITS. 



IN comparing the relative merits of salt and fresh-water 

 fishiug, I am inclined to agree with the conclusions of 

 Forest and Stream that the former is entirely lacking in 

 most of those features that contribute so largely to the inter- 

 esting details of the latter, and which, when placed before 

 us by the skillful hands of "Kingfisher" and "Wawayanda," 

 seem to take us with them, away over mountain and plain 

 to the forest lakes of Michigan or the idyllic atmosphere that 

 the witchery of the writer has thrown around the charming 

 description of his life at "Camp Flotsam." "Al Fresco" in 

 his Florida home could, I fancy, give us something rather 

 exciting in the salt water line should he ever be successful 

 in any of his numerous attempts to land a six-foot tarpon, 

 especially if the exploit was accomplished with a split 

 bamboo and a braided silk, and I feel assured that after the 

 veteran "Nessmuk" has fastened his line to some of those 

 big fellows he saw in the vicinity of Tarpon Springs, he will 

 be able to give us an article of an even more exciting 

 character than anything of the kind that has ever yet 

 emanated from his facile pen. Notwithstanding all this, the 

 salt water narrator is, generally speaking, badly "handicapped 

 by the superior attractions and more diversified character of 

 the sport furnished by sylvan stream and lake for exactly 

 the same reasons that make a description of sea fowl shoot- 

 ing, however exciting it may have been to the participants, 

 of less general interest than a forest sketch of the same 

 description. 



Influenced as we are by these reasons, we do not feel quite 

 sure that the following description of a fishing excursion, 

 taken by four of us to Racoon Straits a few days ago, will 

 be found of sufficient interest to entitle it to a place in your 

 crowded columns, although the pleasure we derived from 

 it fairly places it upon the red-letter page of our piscatorial 

 experience. All of our arrangements having been made the 

 night before, we took the Market street cable car for the 

 ferry at seven in the morning, where before boarding the 

 steamer Fiburon we laid in a supply of shrimp for flounders 

 and a cigarboxful of worms that live in great numbers 

 among the muscles that cover the piles and rocks along the 

 bay. These worms resemble an earwug much more than 

 they do an angleworm; have numerous legs; are much 

 tougher, and far more tenacious of life, and when just 

 caught will sometimes bite hard enough to draw blood. 

 Rather ugly customers to look at, but excellent bait for rock 

 cod, porgies or sea perch. They are gathered by the quart 

 at low tide; usually by boys, who dispose of them to dealers, 

 who have small stands near the ferry landing for supplying 

 fishing parties with bait. 



The steamer was crowded with fishermen, hunters and a 

 number of others who were intent upon a day's sport near 

 Cloverdale, coursing jack rabbits with greyhounds. Half 

 way to our destination we sighted a pleasure party about a 

 quarter of a mile distant on our larboard bow who had 

 come to grief through the swamping of their boat, the occu- 

 pants, five in number, were hanging to the gunwales sub- 

 merged to the neck and endeavoring to attract the attention 

 of the passing boats by frantically waving their hats and 

 handkerchiefs. The steamer was stopped and a boat manned 

 by four lusty sailors was lowered with all possible expedi- 

 tion, while we resumed our course, leaving the small boat to 

 rescue the unfortunates and return them to the city. 



Landing at the Tiburon pier, the terminus of the N. T. 

 C. R. R. we exchanged the steamer for a rowboat and pulled 

 around the point about half a mile into a wide, shallow cove. 

 Twelve or fifteen boats were already anchored on the fishing- 

 ground when we arrived, but none of them seemed to be 

 having a very exciting time and the prospect for good sport 

 looked rather dubious. We threw our anchor over, however, 

 in about three feet of water and dropping down into the 

 soft mud our hooks, baited with the tempting shrimp, awaited 

 further developments. The tide was about half in and the 

 odoriferous mud flats on either side still remained to a great 

 extent uncovered, their monotony being relieved here and 

 there by small gatherings of seagulls vigorously searching 

 the oozy shore for small crabs and shrimps, with a view of 

 getting themselves into an acceptable condition for the en- 

 terprising ' 'chicken" taniale venders of the city. For a full 

 hour we lay idly floating on the sluggish tide before a single 

 nibble disturbed the soporific influences that w r ere gradually 

 stealing over us. Tom sat in the bow in a decidedly som- 

 nolent condition. Joe fastened his line to a rowlock, and 

 taking a morning paper became absorbed in the latest feat- 

 tures of the Sharon divorce case. Belden yawned until a 

 dislocation of his jaw seemed imminent, while the writer, 

 sitting in the stern,' looked listlessly away over the green 

 hills of Marin county, his hands dabbling in the water and 

 his thoughts wool-gathering among the sage-clad mountains 

 of Nevada. 



"I've got a bite," shouted Tom, in tones that put every 

 man instantly on the alert, and by the way of a practical 

 demonstration of the truth of his assertion, a moment later 

 he landed two flounders of at least a pound weight each into 

 Joe's lap. All day dreams instantly fled, and the animation 

 that was immediately perceptible in the surrounding boats 

 announced the fact that the ball had opened with them as 

 well as ourselves. Belden and the writer took in a couple 

 out of the wet, followed by another pair for Joe before Tom 

 could replenish his hook's for another cast, the two fish 

 caught by the latter being evidently the advance guard of a 

 vast army of flounders that were coming in on the flood tide; 

 and for two hoursthe biting was last and furious, until there 



was no room for our feet in the bottom of the boat without 

 stepping on a fish. Then the sport stopped almost as sud- 

 denly as it had begun ; the school had evidently gone by us 

 further up the bay, for we could see the boats beyond still 

 catching them rapidly after they had ceased biting in our 

 vlcin ity- We did not care to follow them, however, we had 

 had fishing enough in that particular line, and stringing our 

 catch of ninety-six flounders on strong cords, we pulled up 

 the anchor, rowed out of the bay and headed for Raccoou 

 Straits, which separate Angel Island from the mainland. 



The day was warm and very pleasant, and the wharf at 

 iiburon, as we passed it on our way up the straits, was 

 thickly set with men, boys and even women who had come 

 over from the city to enjoy a, day's fishing in the country air. 

 One fat old fellow in particular attracted our attention l>v 

 the elaborate preparations he had made for a comfortable 

 day's sport. Seated in a large easy camp chair with a lunch 

 basket by his side, out of which protruded the neck of a wine 

 bottle with a metallic drinking cup inverted over the stopper; 

 he was puffing away at an immense meerschaum pipe, his 

 three lines tied to the wharf near his feet having large floats, 

 each of which was surmounted by a tiny brass bell, whose 

 musical tinkle gave him warning whenever thev required his 

 attention. 



A pull of a couple of miles up the straits took us to -Cali- 

 fornia City, consisting solely of a large packing house, where 

 the catch of the Alaska cod fishery is prepared for market, 

 and a few cottages for those engaged in packing the fish. It 

 was nearly or quite noon when we arrived, and beaching 

 our boat a short distance beyond the city in a delightful 

 little nook where the hill that rose in a gentle incline from 

 near the water's edge was covered with green grass, clumps 

 of low trees and wild flowers of every hue, we spread our 

 lunch beneath the shade of a stunted live oak, and proceeded 

 to fortify ourselves for an onslaught upon the rock cod, sea 

 perch aud porgies for which the surrounding waters have 

 quite a local celebrity. 



We were iu no great hurry, however, to get out among 

 them, the morning's experience had been pretty good for a 

 starter, albeit the fish had not been quite as gamy in character 

 as those we proposed to interview iu the afternoon. The 

 lunch that gentle hands had prepared for us before starting 

 was leisurely discussed with appetites gained by the long 

 pull up the straits, the perfume of the flowers, the drowsy 

 humming of bees, the twittering of the sparrows in the 

 thickets around us, and the clear, ringing notes of the quail, 

 whose nodding plumes were occasionally visible as they 

 hurried through the grass calling loudly to their mates on 

 the opposite hill — all had a tendency to render our surround- 

 ings too agreeable to be hastily disturbed. A few porpoises 

 were lazily rolling about a short distance from the shore, and 

 the swell from the paddles of a steamer bound up the Sacra- 

 mento River came breaking in upon the sand at our feet. 

 High in the air a file of pelicans, seven or eight in number, 

 went winging their way slowly toward the north, their un- 

 gainly forms and great expanse of wing forming it striking 

 contrast to the trim little ducks that went whistling away 

 like bullets just over the surface, of the water. 



By 2 o'clock we were through eating and smoking and 

 tired of lounging under the live oaks, and each expressed his 

 readiness to test the resources of the new fishing ground, 

 "Now for those villainous worms," said Joe, as we pushed 

 off into the tide. "I had rather be whipped than take one 

 of them in my fingers; they make me crawl every time I look 

 at the squirming things." "That's because they have got so 

 many legs," retorted "Tom. "Nothing like getting used to 

 them," chipped in Belden; "I used to think grasshoppers 

 were nasty little cusses, but when I was prospecting one 

 season in the Boise basin we ran clear out of grub and got 

 so nearly starved before we got into camp that we not only 

 made a square meal out of an Indian cache of roasted grass- 

 hoppers we found in a tree, but took along about a peck for 

 future emergencies." "Did they make you sick?" inquired 

 Joe, who was the only dude of the party. "Not much," was 

 the grave reply, "beat the finest peanuts I ever eat." 



A few vigorous strokes with the oars took us a suitable 

 distance from the shore and dropping anchor in about 20ft. 

 of water near a ledge of rocks, w T e all cast our lines over ex- 

 cept Joe, who concluded to await results before he tackled 

 the worms. There was no delay with the fish here, as was 

 the case with the flounders, for the writer's lead had barely 

 touched the bottom when a fierce tug from below announced 

 the fact that they were not only there, but were ready for 

 business, and as a fine blue cod of two pounds' weight came 

 in over the gunwale followed quickly by a silver perch at 

 Tom's end of the boat, Joe's scruples against the crawling 

 things vanished into thin air, and calling loudly for the 

 cigar box containing them, he grabbed a handful and placed 

 them near him on a seat, and a moment later was as deeply 

 absorbed in the sport as any of the party. There wus a 

 uovehy, or more strictly speaking, a delightful uncertainty 

 attending the fishing at this point that made it more fascin- 

 ating than any other place we had yet visited in the bay. 

 Sometimes it was a blue or red cod, then a silver or blue 

 perch, then a sea trout or a porgie — no flounders, no scul- 

 pius, but all were fish that were desirable, and most of them 

 tolerably gamy. A number of boats were fishiug near us, 

 some of which had ladies on board, and their screams of 

 fright when one of them would draw to the surface instead 

 of the expected fish, one of the enormous crabs that frequent 

 these waters, never failed to elicit shouts of laughter from 

 all but the victim. 



From a rocky point jutting out into the bay near us two 

 gentleman were fishing with rod and reel, and although they 

 labored under serious "disadvantages owing to the multitude 

 of sunken rocks around them, beneath which the tell, 

 especially the cod, would fly for safety the instant they felt 

 "the prick of the hook, it was nevertheless evident that they 

 were extracting more real sport out of the capture of a hall 

 pound perch than we obtained from our largest cod, but as 

 the fish were much more abundant with us as well as larger, 

 and the chances of setting our lines caught far less, we felt 

 tolerably well contented with our situation. Sometimes 

 there would be a lull for a few moments in the biting, as if 

 the fish had left the ground, but they soon returned, and as 

 the last boat for the city left Tiburon at half past five, we 

 reluctantly took in our anchor shortly after four o'clock, and 

 leaving them biting as freely as ever, turned our bow toward 

 home, having taken sixty three fine fish running from one- 

 half to two and a half pounds since luuch, to go with our 

 morning's catch of flounders. 



As we rowed along near the shore ou our return, my atten- 

 tion was attracted by a queer-looking Craft, half boat mid 

 half dwelling, looking for all the world like the home of Mr. 

 Peggotty in "David Copperfield." It was tied to the shore 

 in a little inlet just beyond the wharf; it certainly was not 

 intended for navigation", although it whs almost entirely in 



