182 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 1, 1886. 



A Bird Protective Bill.— That rising young states- 

 man of Franklin, Mr. Floyd. J. Hadley, introduced in the 

 New York Legislature on Tuesday a bill to prohibit for five 

 years the killing of "any bird of song, or any linnet, blue- 

 bird, yellow-hammer, yellowbird, thrush, woodpecker, cat- 

 bird, pewee, swallow, martin, bluejay, oriole, kildee, snow- 

 bird, grosbeak, bobolink, phosbe bird, humming bird, wren, 

 robin, meadow lark, or starling;" but especially exempting 

 from this protection the English sparrow. The effect of the 

 bill is to forbid the killing of certain birds, as the robin and 

 meadow lark, which are at present legally regarded for a 

 month or two as game birds. It is a pity that Mr. Hadley's 

 bill had not taken the form of the one recommended by the 

 American Ornithologists' Union, but even in its present 

 shape it will do good by calling attention to the growing 

 evil of indiscriminate bird slaughter. If the graceful elo- 

 quence of that old practical hunter of forty years' experience. 

 Mr. Palmer, the silver-tongued orator of Clinton, is not 

 heard in support of this bill, we are much mistaken in our 

 man. It is hoped, too, that Mr. Barnes, of Essex, may for 

 the moment arouse himself from the contemplation of his 

 diseased cat on the back fence, and make a sturdy fight for 

 the birds. ■' 



Spitting ok Shot for Luck. —Our correspondent, "Bed- 

 ford," relates that when he was a boy in Middlesex county, 

 N. J., it was considered the proper thing to spit on the shot 

 for luck, just as an orthodox bait-fisherman spits on his bait. 

 We never heard of this before, though familiar with some 

 of the other more or less superstitious but commonly ac- 

 cepted beliefs and rites connected with loading a gun effect- 

 ively. 



SALMON FISHING IN SWEDEN.-II.* 



i<r pHE prince ©f good fellows is Baron Oscar Dickson." 



JL So shouted I as I finished reading a polite little note 

 from him, generously placing his far-famed salmon river— 

 the itran — at my disposition for the first half of July, 18^5. 



Stockholm was getting hot and becoming deserted ; most 

 of my friends had already betaken themselves to their sum- 

 mer villas, and I was longing for the green fields, the salt 

 sea breezes, and the foaming fosses of the west coast. So 

 this kind invitation of the Baron was, of all things in the 

 world, just what I most wished for. 



1 took the night train from Stockholm to Gothenburg. 

 Next morning at 8 o'clock I was on board the superb steamer 

 Halland, coasting southward through the labyrinth of rocky 

 islands that form the Swedish Skargavd. At noon we steamed 

 inside the stone piers of the snug harbor of Warberg, and 

 after a hasty lunch at the hotel, I jumped into an ancient but 

 comfortable, and no doubt honorable carriage, and rattled 

 away over the rough stone flagging of the village streets. 



Soon we were driving through the green fields of the open 

 country. 



It was a warm, still, hazy, lazy summer's day, this 2d of 

 July, 1885. The blue Oattegat lay sleeping to the right. The 

 tall winter rye moved slowly and majestically in the soft 

 breeze, larks soared from the meadows and poised on high, 

 with quick-beating wings poured out their little souls in song, 

 the driver beat time with his cracking whip, our little north- 

 ern ponies trotted sturdily along the dusty highway, and I 

 dozed away on my comfortable seat and fell into sort of a 

 half sleep, through which I saw everything as in a dream. 



1 awoke as we rattled into the pretty little village of Falk- 

 enberg. 



Here was my gaffer, Carl Nilsson, in the street. He greets 

 me with a pleasant smile and "lots o' salmon, nobody been 

 fishing here for over a week. " 



We drive directly to the old inn of the town, Gastgif vare- 

 garden, these inns are called all over Sweden, but I should 

 laugh to hear any of my brother readers of the Forest and 

 Stream try to pronounce that word. 



I jumped into my fishing costume as quickly as possible, 

 put together my rod, and was on the river bank with Carl 

 at 6 o'clock. 



Selecting a small "butcher" from my fly-book, I carefully 

 whipped the stream. No rise in the upper pool, none in the 

 next. In the middle pool at the second cast, aha! the flash 

 of silver out of the depths, the bright splash of spray on the 

 surface, the line tightening in a moment, the whiz of the 

 reel as the line runs across stream, and the leap, leap, leap, 

 of the silver-shining salmon himself, as thrice repeated, he 

 jumps three feet into air near the further shore. Ah! that is 

 what causes the blood to tingle in the veins, again brings 

 back the zest of life in all its keenness. 



The salmon was fresh run from the sea and gave good 

 play, but his bright pearly side showed above the wave at 

 last. I drew him in close to the shelving shore, and Carl 

 flung him high on the bank. 



Carl hooks my pocket scales into the lip of the fish, raises 

 him up. I lean over and look at the index. He weighs 

 just eleven pounds. 



In the lower pool I took another salmon, and on the oppo- 

 site shore three more. 



At 10 o'clock we rowed down stream in the ruddy glow 

 of the northern twilight, with five salmon gleaming in the 

 bottom of our little skiff, 



Next morning Carl called me at 3 o'clock, but in these 

 high latitudes it was already bright day. We took a hasty 

 cup of coffee, and at 4 I was casting the fly. The salmon 

 rose well. I landed seven before 9 o'clock. Then we pulled 

 home to breakfast. 



The sky was clear, the sun bright, the river low, so after 

 breakfast I turned in for a nap. 



At noon Carl wakes me. The heavens were now all 

 clouded over. We hurried back to the stream; I changed 

 flies, putting on a Jock Scott. How the salmon rose to that 

 fly. A fish took or showed himself at almost every cast. 

 From a single post I took five fish, and at 4 o'clock I had 

 landed sixteen. 



My supply of Jock Scotts were now frayed out and used 

 up. We paddled back to the village. Yes, the mail was in, 

 and here was the long looked for letter from Scotland, con- 

 taining a fresh supply of flies. We do not stop for dinner, 



" * For the first paper, see issue of Aug. 88, 1884. 



but drinking a bowl of milk hurry back to the stream. The 

 salmon are still rising, and I land five more before sundown . 

 Then a group of villagers saunter up the Doctor's way by 

 the river bank to see me fish. I put on a large "silver doc- 

 tor," and land yet two more salmon before darkness gathers 

 over the turbulent river. 



Thirty salmon. A good day's work. More than I ever 

 caught before. More than 1 ever expected to catch in one 

 day. 



Next day I took it easy, landing two salmon in the morn- 

 ing and three at evening. At noon a man drove me two 

 miles over a winding road, through fields of waving rye. to a 

 little bath house at the seaside. Here I took a plunge into 

 the Cattegat and washed the sweat and tire of salmon fishing 

 out of me. I had a neat little room to dress in, clean towels 

 and every attention, and the price was 12 ore, or 3 cents of 

 our money. Wonder what our fashionable bathing places on 

 our Atlantic coast would think of that? 



Sunday came round and I was glad to give my rod and 

 myself a rest. 



The inn I am stopping at is over 200 years old, I have a 

 large, low-studded sitting room, 22 feet square, and a bed- 

 room opening out of it. The sitting room looks on to the 

 paved street, but the window of the bedroom opens out upon 

 a large flower garden and orchard, which slopes down to the 

 river. Climbing rose bushes are trained up the walls of the 

 house, and my window is embowered with white and red 

 roses in full bloom. The summer wind drifts lasrily in, 

 cooled by the river and perfumed by the flowers. Then I 

 walk in the garden, I find a hammock hung between two 

 trees and lie and swing in it. It is noon; too hot to walk 

 with comfort in the sun, but lying here in the shade, swing- 

 ing between a maple and a cherry tree, the temperature is 

 perfection. The sound of the rippling river just reaches my 

 ear, a bee drones among the flowers hard by. I would like 

 to stay here forever. And where else, pray, can 1 catch 

 thirty salmon a day, or get a good sea bath for 3 cents? 



At evening I rambled over the river to a little cemetery I 

 had seen on the upland, attracted thither by a rude granite 

 shaft that stood like an ancient Rune stone. 



I found that this characteristic northern monument marked 

 the grave of the good doctor who planned and secured to the 

 people their beautiful shaded promenade along the river 

 bank. 



His epitaph is touchingly simple and beautiful. On the 

 rough granite is chiseled : " * 



"Wir hotter Uikunut och meniskov4Hnen. r ' 



"Here rests the physician and the friend of mankind." 



For tendays longer I had all the salmon fishing my heart 

 could desire or my hands accomplish. The weather was 

 hot, sky clear, sun bright the whole time. The river was 

 low when I arrived and it grew smaller and smaller with 

 everyday; rocks showed themselves out of water that had 

 not been seen for many years, but the fishing continued 

 good every day. The salmon left the upper pools, how- 

 ever, but the deep pools at the foot of the falls were full of 

 them. One day some friends fishing on the Nissa River at 

 Oscarstrbm, drove across country and dined with me. I 

 passed my rod to one of them as he came down the bank and 

 he hooked a salmon at the first cast. 



On Thursday, July 9, I was very early at the river. All 

 up and down the stream as far as you couid see, salmon 

 were leaping incessantly. They were all bright fish, evi- 

 dently a new run come in during the night. There had been 

 no rain, no rise of the river, no wind and no cause for a run 

 as far as we knew, but here were the fish nevertheless. They 

 rose splendidly. At 9 o'clock I had landed ten salmon. 

 Then I sent Carl to the hotel for a sandwich and kept on. 

 The day was overcast, and using a very small Fairy, the fish 

 rose well, even at noon. At three in the afternoon I had 

 landed iu all thirty -one fish. I rested fifteen minutes, ate 

 a light luncheon Carl had brought me and whippet! the 

 stream again. But the salmon were not so eager; they rose 

 more warily. At 9 o'clock I had landed thirty-seven and 

 not another rise could I get. 



There was a bit of swift water half way from the falls to 

 the village, where I had frequently seen the fish jump, but 

 where 1 had never succeeded in catching any. Now, we 

 pulled down to this and running the bow of our punt on a rock 

 that was just awash and, slipping on a silver doctor I wound 

 up the day with four more salmon, taking the last one when 

 the clock was nearly at eleven and making my score for the 

 day forty-one. 



At noon of July 16, as the village clock struck 12, 1 reeled 

 in my line for the last time in Sweden. The first half of 

 July was ended, and my time was up. The following is 

 my score for the trip: 



July 3, after 6 P. M 5 salmon, 



" 3 30 



" 4 5 " 



" 5, Sunday. 



'• 12, Sunday. 



M 13 1 6 " 



" 14 15 " 



" 15 8 " 



" 16, until 13 M 15 



The first day and last day were only half days. Count- 

 ing these two halves as one whole day, the total will be 184 

 salmon in twelve consecutive days, exclusive of Sundays, 

 an average of over 15 salmon a day. 



These fish were not large, to be sure. None of them ex- 

 ceeded 16 pounds, and few of them ran over 12 pounds, 

 though there were a good many that came up to that weight. 



It is my firm belief that in point of the number of fish 

 that can be taken by fair casting of the fly, the Itran is the 

 first salmon river of the world. 



Baron Dickson has owned the fishing in the river for 

 many years, and has expended large sums of money in sal- 

 mon breeding and stocking the river. The Baron is un- 

 doubtedly the best fly-fisherman in the kingdom, and has 

 probably taken more salmon with the fly than any other 

 man in Sweden. In fact, he has become almost surfeited 

 with the pastime. He told me frankly that the only sport 

 now to him was to cast the fly and hook the fish; after that 

 he was perfectly willing to pass his rod to anybody. He 

 cared nothing about playing the salmon. 



I used a light Leonard 16 feet split bamboo rod, I think 

 the first American split bamboo ever used in Sweden, and a 

 15 feet Scribner greenheart rod. alternately from one to the 

 other, and finding a certain rest in the change, 



I did all the casting, and hooked, played and brought to 

 the gaff or landing net all the 184 salmon, and I must con- 

 fess I was never so thoroughly tired out as at the end of this 

 glorious twelve days salmon fishing, Marstrand, 



THE AUDUBON SOCIETY, 



New York, March 9, 1886. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



My reply to your favor of the 18th ult. has been delayed 

 by the pressure of numerous engagements. I beg you, how- 

 ever, to believe that you have my heartiest sympathy in the 

 proposed organization of the Audubon Society. I am of 

 the opinion that you deserve thanks for bringing to the notice 

 of the community the extent to which the slaughter of 

 American birds is going on, a fact which I think few realize. 

 The success of your society will also tend to refine the public 

 taste. Our savage ancestors decorated themselves with the 

 tusks of wild boars and the skins of wild animals. The 

 practice of wearing the stuffed skins or the plumage of birds 

 in a hat is perhaps less barbarous, but is after all inspired by 

 the same primitive fancy. Very truly yours, Felix Abler. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Though somewhat tardily, I nevertheless cordially indorse 

 your worthy movement for the salvation of the birds. I 

 should never dare face them again without the consciousness 

 that I had enlisted my name upon the roll of those pledged 

 to protect them Sincerely yours, with congratulations and 

 hopes of success for the movement, W. Hamilton GlbsoN. 



Aiithob's Oi,nB, New York. 



Mr. George T. Angell, president of the Massachusetts 

 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and editor 

 of Our Dumb AnimaU, is rendering "yeoman's service" in 

 the interest of bird protection 



In the April number of that periodical there Wili appear a 

 very powerful appeal to its readers, to read the collected 

 statistics of the hecatombs of "bright spirits of the air," 

 annually sacrificed to the fashion, and the impression this 

 heartless sacrifice of innocent life makes on Ihinking men 

 and women, whose utterances on the subject are quoted; 

 and then join in one universal demand for the legislation 

 asked for in the body of resolutions and petition, prepared 

 for presentation to the Massachusetts Legislature, and having 

 for its object the compulsory introduction into the Massa- 

 chusetts schools for systematic instruction on the economic 

 importance of protecting insect-eating birds and their nests, 

 and the general importance in its influence on character of 

 treating the lower animals kindly, together with some knowl- 

 edge of the State laws for bird protection. 



That the Legislature may have some expression of public 

 opinion to guide it in its consideration of the proposed act, 

 Mr. Angell addressed the collective bodies of the Congrega- 

 tionalism Baptist, Episcopal, Methodist and Universalis! 

 clergy of Boston and its vicinity, the Massachusetts Horti- 

 cultural Society, the Saturday meeting of farmers at Massa- 

 chusetts Hall, and the Unitarian clergy, all of whom passed 

 unanimous resolutions in favor of the movement j the Epis- 

 copalian clergy dissenting only to the extent of preferring 

 a similar resolution in the form of a petition to the Legisla- 

 ture. 



A second section in the proposed act provides "that all 

 fines collected upon, or resulting from, the complaint or in- 

 formation of an officer or agent of the Massachusetts Society 

 for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, for violation of the 

 laws of Massachusetts, relating to the birds and their nests, 

 shall be paid over to said society in aid of the benevolent 

 objects for which it was incorporated." 



The Society hinting what it will do, if it succeeds in get- 

 ting both sections of the act passed, leaves it to be shrewdly 

 inferred, that whatever of taint of inherited destructive im- 

 pulse or passionate lust of vengeance the president and 

 members of the Society may have received from savage 

 ancestors or leaven of the old Adam, shall all be concentrated 

 on the offenders against the laws for the prevention of 

 cruelty of animals or the protection of birds of importan ce 

 in the general economy of nature. 



SPRING BIRD NOTES* 



Lockpokt, N. Y., March 22.-— A large flock of wild 

 geese passed over this city, going north, between 7 and 8 

 o'clock Saturday morning. The first robin and bluebird 

 were seen a week earlier, and to day I saw a number of male 

 robins, but no females. The first purple grackle (crow 

 blackbird), was also seen on Saturday last, and to-day quite 

 a number were seen. We also had severe lightning and 

 thunder on Friday evening, which is very unusual at this 

 season of the year.— J. L. Davison. 



March 24. — About two years ago I reported to the Fokest 

 and Stream that a Mr. Pomroy, residing about three miles 

 from this city, captured a baker's dozen of wild geese on 

 their being enticed into his barn during a storm by his tame 

 geese— with which they mated and bred — and he now has a 

 flock of about fifty of the original wild and mixed breed. I 

 was informed last evening that for the past few days there 

 had been a flock of about one hundred wild geese feeding on 

 and about Mr. Pomroy 's farm— probably this is the same 

 flock that I reported to you on Monday as passing over the 

 city on Saturday morning last. — J. L, D. 



Ridgwat, Pa. , March 22. — Robins, bluebirds and yellow- 

 birds are here. Many flocks of wild pigeons have been seen 

 on their way north, also wild ducks and geese. There are 

 but few pheasants left and they are very wild. A few deer 

 and bear were shot during the past season, but are not as 

 numerous as they were four or five years back. — X. Tem- 

 pore. 



Central Lake, Mich., March 18.— Robins first seen to- 

 day. The first crow of the season appeared on the 15th, and 

 audibly expressed his opinion that spring was at hand. 

 .Weather mild, up to 50°. — Kelpie. 



Newfoundland, N. J., March 22. — A dead woodcock 

 was found to-day near the N. T. S. & W. R. R., about one- 

 half mile from here. Supposed to have been killed by flying 

 against the telegraph wire. It was in fair condition and a 

 full-sized bird. Saw meadow lark March 20.— S. S. W. 



Hornellsvllle, N. T., March 21.— Bluebirds arrived 

 March 11; robins, 15; red-wing blackbirds, 19. I believe 

 Meadow larks have been here all the winter.— ,T. Otis Fel- 

 lows. 



A Hair Seal up the Hudson.— Cheney A. Burhans, of 

 this place, had the good fortune to shoot a fine specimen of 

 the hair seal yesterday morning, Mr. Burhans was hunting 

 ducks on the river opposite Barry town, when he saw the 

 seal on a cake of floating ice, and had no difficulty in get 

 ting within gunshot, The animal weighed 65 pounds.— 

 Howard Burhans (Flatbush, N. Y M March 24). 



