Jan. 14, 1S86.] 



FOREST AMjJ stream. 



48^ 



head and had cut the windpipe and the principal artery. On 

 the whole the shot was a very lucky one. 



Standing my rifle against a rock, I drew my knife and 

 began the work of preparing the game for transportation to 

 camp. While engaged at this a problem presented itself. 

 How was I to get my meat to the horses? The distance was 

 perhaps three miles, and the return necessitated a climb of 

 1,500 feet up the mountain side, a 16ng journey over its rough 

 face and then a descent of about 2,000 feet to the horses. The 

 sheep would weigh dressed from 80 to 100 pounds. Now I 

 am a little man, sliglit, and rather feeble than athletic, and 

 usually find my own weight quite enough to carry, and I 

 was perfectly well convinced tliat it was useless for me to 

 think of getting this entire animal to the horses. As I con- 

 tinued my work, I kept hoping that the Indians would pass 

 along within sight, so that I could call them down and in- 

 duce them to pack the load for me, but they did not appear, 

 and when I had turned the creature over to drain, I smoked 

 and prepared to face my task unaided. If we had had any 

 meat in camp, I would have taken the hama and saddles, 

 which I could perhaps carry, but I did not like to leave the 

 forequarters, for it was evident that as long as the bad 

 weather lasted, one might go hunting a good many days 

 without killing any meat. 



Finally I thought I would see how far I could carry the 

 animal, and so, with some difficulty, I threw it on my back, 

 and with my rifle resting across the legs in front, started 

 very slowljr and tjemulously up the mountain. It was a 

 terribly hard ascent, bad enough when I had only myself 

 and my gun to carry, and now weighed down by the load 

 on my back, it seemed at first as if it would be impossible 

 for me to go 100 yards. It was necessary to stop every few 

 steps at first to lake breath, for the weight on my shoulders 

 made it seem impossible for me to fill my lungs with air; 

 but at length I had made half the ascent, and then placing 

 my burden on a high rock, I sat down and took a long rest 

 and a refreshing smoke and started on again. Once, when 

 going slowly along over the loose tipping rocks, I fell, and 

 it seemed to me as if a dozen holes had been punched in my 

 ribs and my legs and ai-ms broken, but I was "getting mad" 

 now, and shouldering my burden again pushed on. Pour 

 times during my purney I threw off my load and rested, 

 but at length I reached the top of the long steep hill at the 

 foot of which I could see the horses. I tossed the sheep 

 down the hill, and as I turned to stretch and look back, saw 

 appearing over the mountain point the two Indians, bowed 

 down beneath their load of meat. It was not difficult to 

 drag my load down the hill by a foreleg, and when the 

 Indians reached the horses I had already been there some 

 little time. When they threw off their loads I saw that be- 

 tween them they had only one animal, so tliat their loads 

 were really lighter than mine had been. 



While we were packing the meat on the horses the thought 

 occun-ed to me that I would try the Chinook jargon on my 

 friend the Kootenay, for this tribe ranges over into Oregon 

 and British Columbia, where this barbarous tongue — if it 

 can be so designated — is spoken, and to our mutual satisfac- 

 tion we found that we could converse quite easily, though 

 long disuse had made my vocabulary rather Umited. As we 

 started down the mountain the Indian again asked me about 

 the trail , and whether it was a good one, and on my reply- 

 ing that it was much better than the one we had taken 

 coming up, he asked me to go ahead and take them down by 

 it. This I did, deriving as I rode along not a little of 

 amusement from the fact that I was guiding the Kootenay 

 Indians around through then- own mountains. 



That night in camp I told the story of the day to my 

 companions, and after I had ended it Appekunny said: 

 "That mountain shall be called Singleshot Mountain from 

 this day forth, in memory of your single shot." And Yel- 

 lowfish, who was stripping the fat meat from a sheep's rib, 

 said, "It is good;" and then, turning to me, added: "Now 

 the Bear-pipe will have a dance." "Ah," I replied, "skoon- 

 a-faps nat-ose" (Yes ; strong is the Sun). Yo. 



"Tliat reminds me." 

 178. 



SOME of your readers in Ogdensburg, N. Y. , may per- 

 chance remember Mike Daniels, whose habitat some 

 twenty -five years agone was in thatbnrgh. 



He was one of a party of hunters who made their camp 

 one night on the Oswegatchie (locally known as the Oshe- 

 goshy), and had for his rifle a new wiping slick, in those 

 days commonly called a "limber." This fitted the bore of 

 the piece with great accuracy, and that night, before turning 

 in, he chanced to leave it exposed to the weather. There 

 was a slight shower and a mist that evening, and when 

 Mike, who was an tady riser, went forth at gray daybreak, 

 and attempted to swat) his rifle with the stick aforesaid, it 

 refused to enter his gun, being swollen with the wet. Mike, 

 not fully appreciating the situation, dropped gun and limber, 

 bolted into the camp, gave the nearest man a kick in the 

 ribs, and waving his hand in his own peculiar fashion, shout 

 ed, "Git up. git up, — got to leave this cursed place to-night." 

 "Wha' for"? (sleepily) from the recumbent form. "Git up, 



I tell you, there's witchcraft here; the raffle (rifle) 's 



shrunk in the night." It was a long time before Mike heard 

 the last of his shrunken rifle. 



I was relating this incident the other evening to Josephus, 

 who was half asleep, and he roused himself sufficiently to 

 say that it was a good yarn, and added: "Had'nt you bet- 

 ter send it to the Flickfire camperings?" Kelpie, 



Address all communications to tfte Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co. 



CAMP FLOTSAM. 



XIX. — THE PIZEN ANN, 



THE morning broke with a cold, battering rain and the 

 thermometer at 60°. The camp fire had been drowned 

 out during the night and everything within was in a state of 

 dampness. The little camp stove, however,soon put the interior 

 in living condition, and by noon the rain had ceased. With 

 the first siffns of a let up, we were in the boat and making 

 our way around the foot of the island to try the fly once 

 more. It was a solemn task, and we went over the weed 

 beds and rocky bottoms across to Burnt Point, without the 

 sign of a scale. Then we turned short to the left and skirted 

 Pensel Island, with as promising a looking bass ground be- 

 neath us as one could wish, passed Devil's Oven and came 

 into the open lake without having had a strike. The netter 

 had done Ms work well. On the' shoal behind Lost Spring 

 Island, a calamity overtook a pound and a half small-mouth 

 which became enamored of the dropper, and came into the 

 boat after a smart tight. At Knapps Point we found the 

 Colonel trolling over the shoal with no better luck than our 

 own. Just beyond, at the extreme point of the shoal, we 

 took a pound small-mouth and then pulled over to the bay 

 in front of the tents and began the course anew. Here we 

 had a fight with another small-mouth which took the Cana- 

 da fly with a strike which savored of a five-pounder, made a 

 long swirl of six feet or so, and struck for the bottom. We 

 knew in a moment that we had a good fish, and a quick 

 gesture caused George to put the boat broadside on in readi- 

 ness for a fair fight. Up and down the length of the boat, 

 in to the base of the rocks which fined the shore, across the 

 stern to the edge of the weed bed, from entering which the 

 whole leverage of the rod was barely more than enough to 

 restrain him, the fish rushed not once, but half a dozen times, 

 until the fear came with each turn that he would tear from 

 the hook or escape by the parting of the snell. When at 

 last he was lifted in, lo, a pound and ten ounces was all that 

 the scales could be made to show. Never before had we 

 seen a fish of like weisrht fight as this one fought, except 

 that it never once broke water. A few rods ftlrther on, we 

 took another of the same weight which made but a single 

 rush or two and gave up the struggle, when we turned into 

 camp with our four fish. Before we were through dinner 

 another rain set in which furnished music for us until far 

 into the night. The next day we tried still fishing for the 

 first. Hitherto we had used only the fly, and were quite 

 willing to have an old-fashioned time with bait and bobber. 

 Our bait was "chunk," the favorite of the Canuck, that is, 

 pieces of perch with a pectoral or anal fin attached. We 

 preferred small live perch, but these were hard to get, and 

 on this particular morning none were on hand. A small 

 perch was taken near shore with a fly, and with this for our 

 entire stock of bait we started out. Anchoring between two 

 rocks which rose from the water a couple of hundred feet 

 apart, the choice cut of the bait — the "throat latch," as the 

 natives call it — was put on the Madame's hook, while we 

 tried the virtues of a Ferguson in casting. The first fish 

 fell to our lot; then, after the Madame had taken two, seeing 

 no signs of further luck with the fly, we joined in the 

 "chunk." It was a pleasure to handle the little Mitchell, 

 and when the first bite came there was a circus. In an hour, 

 with three rods, we took eleven bass of two pounds average 

 weight, the majority of which were big mouths. 



'The difference in the sameness of the two varieties was 

 never more apparent. We marked each strike and the re- 

 sultant fight with a care born of the desire to test the matter 

 once again and to discover, if possible, in what respect we 

 had done injustice to "the under dog" in the great bass con- 

 troversy. We entered into the test doubtfully and humbly, 

 for we were fresh from a "hetcheling" on the subject at the 

 hands of the Cold Spring boss, and felt like the boy sent 

 back to his seat to "try his sum over again." No, there 

 was no mistake about it. Each would start off with about 

 the same rush, but the fight of the big-mouth would be over 

 in a couple of minutes. It was seldom that the small-mouth 

 would make the leap that characterizes him in New York 

 and New Jersey waters, while not a leap did we get Irom 

 the other, but for a long, steady, stubborn under-water fight 

 with tactics tending to an entanglement with the other 

 lines, the anchor, or a stick on the bottom, the former was 

 far ahead. And we will venture to re-assert what we said 

 in an article of a year ago, that he who can see no difference 

 in the gameness of the two varieties, has never seen the 

 small-mouth in his perfection, and furthermore, we will 

 agree with our friend of the Bigosh to name the variety after 

 ten seconds play, under the conditions which he proposed to 

 his friend Mosely on the James Eiver, and not hedge, or we 

 will give him a carte blanche order on William Mitchell for 

 the best rod which that gentleman can devise. It occurs to 

 us just here, to allude to a subject, mooted by^ us in the ar- 

 ticle referred to, and which was the cause of the aforesaid 

 "hetcheling." We there said in substance, that it was our 

 belief that the small-mouth was gamier in waters to which it 

 was not a native. At the time of writing the article men- 

 tioned our observations, with this question in mind, had 

 been limited to a single season. Beyond that, we could only 

 recall and compare the difference between the transplanted 

 and the native in memory. The experience of another sea- 

 son had left us somewhat in doubt, although we are inclined 

 to coincide with the theory of Mr. A. N. Cheney in his 

 paper upon that subject, suggested we believe by us, and 

 read before tlie American Fisheries Society. Given the con- 

 ditions of improved water and food, we are convinced that 

 the gameness of the small-mouth, so far at least as the same 

 is indicated by leaping, is increased by transplanting, but 

 whether anything is added to the length, strength, cunning 

 and dash of his under-water fight, of that we are in doubt; 

 still it may be so. Perhaps there is no more appropriate 

 place than this to answer the query put at us by our Bigosh 

 friend, viz., "What effect does transplanting have on the 

 under dog in this fight, the derided big-mouth?" Our an- 

 swer must be, none that we have ever observed. We are 

 not "after a rise" this time, and if our friend still insists on 

 offering his scalp, we will pass the knife over to "A. N. C," 

 that the "raising" may be done in an artistic way. 



In the afternoon, the camp indulged itself in a little piece 

 of extravagance. The long stretches of water about us and 

 the continuous winds had "for some time suggested a sail 

 boat of some sort, and we had seen a new cedar clinker built 

 boat, rigged with mast and sail, at the outlet, and with which 

 we had fallen in love. Negotations had been pending for a 

 week toward her purchase, and on this day were closed and 



at 8 P. M. she bore down on the camp, lowered her sail and 

 was formally delivered over to us, to have and to hold, to 

 run on the rocks or capsize, just as we might manage her. 

 She was christened right then and there, and before a week 

 the Pizen Ann was known for miles up and down the lake 

 and had can-ied her ensign into waters far from Loughbor- 

 ough. 



That night we worked her to the outlet under sail, and 

 got back with au ash breeze, but compensated for the toil 

 of the latter by a sample of Cheney and oriole flies 

 which came through the mail from our kind friend whose 

 name the former bears. There had been a dearth of yellow 

 in oiu' fly -book, and an article in Forest and Stkeam on 

 the most killing fly had suggested an order for that color, but 

 a mistake in filling it made by a New York house on the eve 

 of our departure for camp, left us in the cold, and we had 

 poured out our troubles to the veteran of Lake George, who 

 promptly helped us out. We tried those flies faithfully and 

 well, both in casting and trolling, and never had a strike on 

 either; a sad commentary on the ajsthetic taste of Canada 

 bass. Nor did we find any one fly, unless we except the 

 white Canada, which seemed more killing than another. 

 The rule was, li<Tht flies for dark days and toward dusk, and 

 dark ones for bright days. For the first we used the Canada, 

 Professor or Ferguson, for the latter, the great king, Lord 

 Baltimore and Montreal, with a scarlet ibis for either. 



During our trip to the outlet, we found the native in all 

 the excitement attending the berry fever, for various individ- 

 uals had been "in the bush" and returned laden with pails of 

 blackberries. A party of three or four were at the landing 

 discussing a proposed expedition by water to a place in the 

 woods, some twelve or fifteen miles distant, and we soon 

 learned that it was near the border of Hart Lake, which water 

 with Truthful James and Sabattis we attempted to reach 

 last summer and failed at the lower outlet— eight miles from 

 camp — for want of water in the stream which connects it with 

 Loughborough. Here was our opportunity. There was now 

 plenty of water, they said, and only one carry, but a bad 

 one, to get over, and here were our guides to order and help 

 for the carry. We wormed ourselves at once into the affec- 

 tions of that party and found that we would be welcome. 

 We would probably be away from camp for two or three 

 days, and a tent and supplies with a frying pan and coffee 

 pot would come handy. The latter would only be needed 

 by ourselves, for the Canuck drank tea, and strong at that. 

 The' arrangements were soon made and we were to hold oiu-- 

 selves in readiness to start at any moment within the next 

 two days, when we should bs notified that the party was 

 ready. 



Through the whole period of our last year's camp, we had 

 longed to get into the chain of waters to the north. We had 

 studied the map and it seemed as if the whole northeni 

 country was a series of lakes and streams. But we were 

 lold that with the exception of deer hunters in the fall, few 

 ever visited them, and none of our proposals to make our 

 way thither had met with any encouragement from the na- 

 tive. It was a half fer?'« incognita to them, and the mosqui- 

 toes and like pests were a terror. As we were enjoying quite 

 a season in our own camp with some of these, we flattered 

 ourselves that we were skin-hardened, and so determined to 

 make the venture and go as far as we could. There were 

 miles of the lakfe about us which we had not explored, but 

 we wanted new waters, and we got them. 



It would be necessary to dispose of the Madame some- 

 where at the outlet or else leave her with the Indian girls 

 and one of the boys to take care of the camp. She chose 

 the latter, so the proposition was broached to the oldest girl, 

 who was in a state of delijrht at the idea. But a single night 

 passed in thinking of it, filled the head of the Madame with 

 all sorts of imaginary scalpings, and in the morning: she an- 

 nounced her intention of "going ashore." She might have 

 been hurried to her conclusion by finding, upon awaking, 

 one of the Indian boys standing in the tent, which he had 

 entered without disturbing her and where he was waiting to 

 find out when we would sl:art. 



In the course of the day word was sent us that the berry 

 pickers would set out the next morning. A good sized boat 

 which had seen its best days on the Rideau but which had a 

 sail and centerboard and would carry eight persons, was 

 being caulked and prepared for the journey. She bore the 

 somewhat doubtful name of the Sabbath Breaker, and, 

 should there be a sufficient breeze, the run to the lower out- 

 let would be made in her, at which place she would be left 

 and the trip finished in a couple of skiffs which were to be 

 taken in tow. There was considerable good-natured chaff- 

 ing between us and our Canadian friends, and we were 

 warned that with anyttiing of a wind the Pizen Ann and 

 her crew would be left so far behind that they would have 

 to get over the carry alone and find their way Further as best 

 they might. We were not over-confident in the qualities of 

 our craft as a sailer, but we inwardly determined that, come 

 what might, we would, by hook or crook, get to that carry 

 in time to see the Breaker lower her sail, or that there would 

 be a regatta, the like of which had never been heard of 

 on the nether side of the border. In one respect, at 

 least, we knew that we had the advantage, and that was in 

 our sailing master, for George was an old tar and an expert 

 with the sails. So we thundered back our defiance and 

 struck out for camp with the prospect of a lively sciimmage 

 before us on the morrow. 



Once more the mosquitoes enveloped us on our way home 

 and, without a breath of air stirring to aid us in the one- 

 sided fight, we fanned and brushed until camp was reached 

 and the smudge pail brought in and fired up. Then as the 

 air grew thick: and stifling, we rubbed on the killer, drop- 

 ped on the bunk, and were soon dreaming of the ordeal 

 awaiting us on the morrow, when we were to sustain the 

 honor of America against the haughty subject of the woman 

 who reigned by the grace of God. Wawatanda. 



Michigan's Shiftless Law Enforcement. — Escanaba, 

 Mich., Dec. 35. — Editor Forest and Stream: We read a good 

 deal about, killing game out of season. I do not believe any 

 one has told one half of the true state of the case. It is 

 terrible the way they are killing deer in and out of season, 

 and shipping it out of the State in the legal killing time. I 

 don't think shippers dare run the risk of shipping since one 

 of the C. & N. W. Railway agents was fined $50 last winter 

 for shipping out of season. I was told he could have been 

 fined $1,000 if they had wanted to do so. One Al Moore (a 

 Canadian) has for years been shipping trout in the winter 

 as well as venison. This year our butchers bought all the 

 saddles of venison they could get, and shipped them without 

 any special care for the law. At one time I saw three small 

 fawns (all spotted) in front of a butcher shop. The express 

 company took all that was offered for shipment, without 

 asking foolish questions so far as I can learn. — Blank. 



