FOREST AND STREAM. 



shore, opposite which we catight our fish, and, when ten or 

 fifteen minutes had elapsed without a strike, we would turn 

 and row back, often getting as many fish, during our second 

 passage as we had the first. 



Bo the day passed until the afternoon was well advanced, 

 when the rising wind drove us to the shore and into camp. 

 A feature of this day was the appearance on the lake of a 

 great number of terns, apparently Sterna Mnindo. They 

 were seen busily fishing during the morning and evening, 

 and hovered above the stern of our boat, evidently half 

 inclined to make a plunge at the baits trailing in the water 

 behind. Then toward midday they betook themselves to 

 tbe gravelly points and bars which made out from the shores 

 and sat there on the beach, plump, comfortable looking, and 

 altogether enviable. These brisk graceful sea swallows and 

 the slow-winged gulls seemed to get along very pleasantly 

 together, and fished and rested in company. 



Sometimes at night we would row along the shore, and it 

 gave one an eerie, half-uncomfortable feeling to watch these 

 white ghostly, indistinct forms as they seemed to rise out of 

 the water, and then as we approached to see the spirits lightly 

 take wing and for a moment flit about with faint, queru- 

 lous murmurs, and then vanish away into the darkness. 



Yo. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co, 



AT SEVENTY-ONE. 



BY JEROME BURNETT. 



The testimony of a genial angler of three score and ten, out in his 

 boat with roJ and line, busy with the bass, and now and then telling 

 of his years from ten 10 seventy-one. 



A CHECKERED life has been my share, 



I've had good times as well as care, 

 While honors, too, I've come to wear, 



And proud with what I'd won; 

 But memory ever brings to view, 

 Whene'er I look my long life through, 

 The years I've fished, as now I do, 

 Frcm ten to seventy-one. 



The same gl|d impulse still I know 

 To go afield, to fish, and ro«v, 

 As when, some sixty years ago, 



The songs of youth I sung; 

 For though my life may go amiss, 

 And stale become what once was bliss, 

 'Tis true as truth, in joys like this, 



My heart is always young. 



The shade and sheen of wood and lake, 

 The tangled trail of fen and brake. 

 With hazards and the tests that make 



The self-reliant man ; 

 The out-door world of mountain gleams, 

 Of ocean shores and whispering streams, 

 Embellish still my waking dreams 



as when my life began. 



Ah, tell it as you may, my friend, 

 Most earthly i iys untimely end, 

 Whatever fate may deign to send 



Ere Time with you is done; 

 Whichever way you hold your dish, 

 Whatever you may will or wish, 

 The happiest days are those you fish, 



Till you are seventy-one. 



And so I say as now I view 



The vista of my long life through, 



In light and shadow, false and true, 



Since I was young and bold. 

 Howe'er my lines have gone amiss, 

 Or faith has failed in hope of bliss, 

 The while 1 live in joys like this 



My heart can ne'er grow old. 



A DAY WITH THE DEVIL FISH. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



1 have just read my son's sketch, published recently in 

 your spirited paper, and it recalled to my mind some of the 

 pleasantest aud most exciting recollections of ante-bellum 

 sports. Let me add an account of a day's sport devil fish- 

 ing, every word of which is strictly true. 



Id the latter part of June or first of July of that year I 

 visited Bay Point, having obtained a few days' recreation 

 from my studies in Charleston. It was the season for devil 

 fishing, and my brother-in-law. Stephen Elliott (afterward 

 General Elliott of Sumter fame), was in the midst of it. He 

 was acknowledged to be the best fisherman and boatman 

 among good fishermen and boatmen, as all the Beaufort 

 young men were. He had been at the fish several times, 

 and had even struck one, but as yet "had no luck." My 

 vacation was so short that I did not intend to fish ; the sun 

 and salt water have a most unpleasant effect on a sensitive 

 skin, and to present myself before my class with my face 

 cracked and burnt was what I did not relish, so I was trying 

 to make myself agreeable to the young ladies of the party 

 on shore, aud enjoying tbe delightful sea breezes in the lazy 

 manner which any one who has marooned on the seashore 

 knows all about. In comes General Elliott, arrayed in fish- 

 ing attire— blue flannel shirt tucked in duck trousers, and a 

 felt hat that Robinson Crusoe would have discarded, so 

 many were the holes in it; but Elliott chought it the "luck- 

 iest hat" he ever wore, besides the holes kept his head and 

 brains cool, a requisite in this kind of fishing. Said he, 

 "Well, Hal, you must go fishing with me to-day. I appeal 

 to you ladies to second my motion. 1 have been promising 

 you a sight of a devil fish and have failed to kill one by 

 myself. Whtn we go together our luck has never yet failed 

 us, aud once we took t w o in one day. " This appeal, strongly 

 seconded by the ladies, was a little too much for a young 

 man to stand; so rather reluctantly I slipped into my tent, 

 changed my clothes, and met Elliott at the boat on the 

 beach, a faw hundred yards from our tents. It was a "shad 



boat," as they were called, 18x6+ feet, with sprit mainsail 

 and jib; mast easily unshipped and laid along the thwarts; 

 rowed by two hands when necessary; centerboard, and with 

 a good broad platform at bow to stand on. The crew con- 

 sisted of General Elliott, myself, and two hands, Bob and 

 .lack. I had quite an affection for Bob, for he had once, at 

 the risk of his own life, saved mine, when a coil of rope 

 accidentally got around my ankle, but fortunately after the 

 fish had almost made his run, and was exhausted. These 

 two nesrroes enjoyed the sport as much as we did, and were 

 perfectly familiar with every phase of it. 



We jumped aboard, spritted out the sail, hauled up the 

 jib and leisurely sailed for the Hilton Head shore. On the 

 way across, about three miles, we busied ourselves preparing 

 harpoon and lances. We always made it a rule to have a 

 large supply of these ready. Our habit in striking was one 

 to stand at the head, the otner at tbe stern, both armed with 

 harpoons; the one at the stem steering with his foot, but 

 ready in case of an emergency to strike also. Reaching the 

 mouth of Skull Creek, which bounds Hilton Head on the 

 west, and empties into Broad River, we anchored near the 

 shore, stowed useless things away, and arranged our weapons 

 to hand, then "layoff" to watch for the fish, which gener- 

 ally showed themselves on the early ebb tide just at the 

 mouth of Skull Creek. Can one fond of the water imagine 

 anything to surpass this? The gentle roll of the boat, the 

 constant dipping of the gulls, the wind blowiug fresh and 

 crisp, by this time having increased sufficiently to cap the 

 waves in mid river beautifully, the landscape around pre- 

 senting that peculiar smoky, quiet appearance so charming 

 on a June day. Such a situation and sun would, under 

 ordinary circumstances, induce sleep, but our eyes were 

 strained for the first sight of the fish; and our inexhaustible 

 supply of reminiscences of former days' sport — so pleasant to 

 recall when another day is to be added to the long list — kept 

 us on the qui vive. Besides Bob and Jack knew there was a 

 drink for the one who first saw the fish ; they would have 

 it anyhow, but it seemed to taste better if they could say 

 they won it. 



Suddenly Elliott points to the starboard bow. "There is 

 one, I think/' "No boss," says Bob, "da porpoise." When 

 the fish first shows the point of its wing it resembles the fin 

 of a porpoise very much. Before Bob's words were well out 

 of his mouth, tbe monster suddenly leaped entirely out of the 

 water, coming down with a slap and splash that sent the 

 foam in every direction; and as quick as thought another 

 and another fish show themselves until the number reaches 

 eight or ten. 



Elliott is on his feet "Haul in the anchor, Bob; lay out 

 the oars, Jack; and now, Hal, you strike." 



In a moment I am at the head of tbe boat, the harpoon 

 with a staff six or eight feet long poised evenly in my right 

 hand, a coil of rope in my left, in order to give plenty of line 

 when the harpoon is cast. The main coil is in the bottom of 

 the boat, the end fast to something substantial, so if all the 

 rope is paid out with the dash of the fish we will not lose 

 both rope and harpoon, I am ready, and the hands are 

 quietly pulling toward the spot where the tremendous boil 

 indicates the monster's disappearance. Here he is to the 

 left, about twenty yards off, cutting around in a circle, the 

 point of both wings showing. 



"Easy, boys, easy, and stand ready to help me, Bob, when 

 I strike; leave Jack to look after the oars. Steady. Back 

 water." 



The fish has just turned his gigantic body over, about ten 

 feet from me, the harpoon is raised and driven with all my 

 strength into the center of his white stomach, which is just 

 on the level with the surface. 



"Good shot!" says Elliott. 



Before the fish realizes the situation the head of the boat 

 touches him. I reach out, catch the butt of the harpoon 

 staff and force it entirely through the body, and jump out of 

 the way of the rope which now begins to spin out with a 

 fearful velocity. "Mind your hands, Bob," for we are now 

 catching at the rope and bending it over the bow whenever 

 the chance offers, thus turning the head in the direction of 

 the fish, assisted by Elliott at the helm. "Come and help us, 

 Jack, for if the rope gets on the broadside we will capsize, 

 certainly." "No danger," says Jack, who immediately adds 

 his bony hands to the work, and although the smoke flies, 

 and 1 lose some skin from my hands, the boat swings arouud 

 and we dash away with a speed that almost takes away our 

 breath ; the spray pours over us and the head of the boat 

 buries into the waves, seeming sometimes as if it would never 

 rise again. For the time being I can use no other expression 



than that we are drunk with excitement, there is nothing to 

 equal it in the line of sport. To relieve the weight at the 

 head Elliott and Jack pass the line down to the stern and 

 silting there, as we give the word, all haul together, for an- 

 other harpoon must be placed in tbe fish as soon as his first 

 dash is over. He is then gradually hauled nearer and nearer 

 the surface. Gradually and cautiously we haul as he ap- 

 proaches nearer and yet nearer. , Elliott catches up another 

 harpoon, and coming to the head stands ready to hurl it into 

 the fish as soon as it approaches near enough to the 

 surface. We begin to see the black mass indistinctly at first, 

 then more and more visible, until suddenly Elbott says, 

 "Look out!" and lets fly his harpoon, It quivers as the 

 staff is half submerged ; and again the fish dashes down and 

 down until eight or ten fathoms are paid out. We then 

 steady him, and begin the hauling again. This time Elliott 

 arms himself with a lance, and when the time arrives plunges 

 it in and jerks it out rapidly. The blood spurts from the 

 wound and we leave a bloody wake behind. The fish gradu- 

 ally becomes more and more" feeble. His dashes are less and 

 less violent, until he at length lies floating alongside gasping 

 for breath. JSlo time is to be lost. Quickly a bight of the 

 rope is passed through a nostril into the throat. My arm is 

 suddenly plunged into the mouth of the fish as he gasps. 

 This feat must be performed rapidly, as it would be danger- 

 ous to have the mouth of the fish close on one's arm in a 

 dying gasp. Then catching tbe rope 1 bring it out of the 

 mouth. This performance is repeated with the second nos- 

 tril, and we have the fish ready to be towed ashore, present- 

 ing his head to the resisting tide, which is still running 

 ebb. 



We have time to look around us now. We are about four 

 miles outside of Bay Point, and it will take at least four or 

 five hours to reach shore, notwithstanding the fact that we 

 have a howling south wind to assist us. But we have more 

 sport in store. The sharks begin to show themselves. 

 These "vultures" of the sea have smelled blood, and their 

 fins are seen flitting around in numbers. One fellow, com- 

 ing up deliberately, takes hold of the thin portion of the 

 wing of the devil fish, and throwing his body entirely out of 

 the water, his tail just missing the boat, he cuts a clean half- 

 moon out of the fish's flap. Our sbark lines are rigged, 

 baited with some small fish found in the bottom of the boat 

 or a piece cut from the devil fish, and thrown overboard. 

 They hardly touch before they are grasped as if another 

 man was at the other end, and a trial of strength begins. 

 But man brings mind to bear, and the shark is allowed 

 rope, and is played ; gradually his strength fails him, and a 

 ten -foot monster is brought alongside. The lance plays a 

 second part in dispatching the shark. We take nine of 

 these fellows before we land, averaging from six to ten feet 

 long. 



We land at last toward sunset and are met by all on 

 shore. Tbe fish is hauled as near the beach as possible, 

 and when the tide recedes is left high and dry. We measure 

 him and he proves to be 18 feet from tip to tip of wings, 1 1 

 feet from nose to base of tail, and 4-$- feet throxigh. The 

 next day he is cut up and sent to Elliott's place for 

 manure. 



We have hunted our old grounds since the war, but find 

 no fish there now, and one of the grandest sports man ever 

 enjoyed is lost to us. If they ever return and 1 am loo old 

 to strike, I will certainly go along and teach mv boys how to 

 kill a devil fish. * H. M. S. 



Beaufort, S. C. 



Michigan Association. — Grand Rapids, Mich., Jan. 13. 

 — The annual meeting of the Michigan Sportsmen's Associa- 

 tion will be held at Kalamazoo, Mich., on Tuesday, Feb. 9, 

 1886, commencing at 7:«50 o'clock, P. M. The headquarters 

 ot the Association will be at the Burdick House. A full 

 attendance is requested, as business of interest and im- 

 portance to the sportsmen of the State will be considered. 

 Clubs, members and individuals are requested to send to the 

 undersigned any information they may possess which will 

 aid the Association in its endeavor to save the game and fish 

 of this State from the rapid destruction now menacing it. 

 The secretaries of all auxiliary clubs are requested to send 

 the names of their officers and the number of their members 

 to the Secretary for the information of the Association. 

 Each auxiliary club is entitled to be represented at the 

 annual meeting by five delegates. Individual members and 

 others interested in the objects of the Association, are 

 earnestly invited to be present.— Mabk Norms, Secretary, 

 79 Lyon street. 



