Afrxl 1, 1880.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



187 



Mullen's Mill and stopped for dinner. While 1 picked 

 berries Charley got a three-pound bass iu shape to eat. It 

 was necessary to make a carry here, and McMullen'sox team, 

 cart 8nd boy conveyed our boat and traps to the head of Six 

 Mile Lake, a half mile below the mill. The cart was nearly 

 in pieces, and the oxen became frightened when we put the 

 boat on the cart and came near running into the lake. We 

 began to think we were not going to make it with that team ; 

 but the boy was confident that he would get us through all 

 right, and he did , for in half an hour we were once more 

 afloat at the head of Six Mile Lake. We pulled down the 

 lake a short distance, and set up our tent in a clearing on the 

 edge of the lake and close to a pretty little stream that ran 

 down from the hill. After arranging camp we went fishing 

 in the lake, and came back in an hour with four good-sized 

 pickerel. We would not eat these ourselves, so Charley took 

 them to a farmhouse near by, and while there the lady of the 

 house told him of a trout stream a mile from the house. To 

 have a trout stream so close and not visit it was not to be 

 thought of. 



Next morning we struck out across the country in the 

 direction the lady had told Charley to go. The woods were 

 beach, maple and elm, and were quite clear of underbrush. 

 In a short time we came to a small stream which we thought 

 must be the one we were in search of. It was such a little 

 brook we thought it could contain only small fish, but con- 

 cluded to try it before going further. Hastily jointing our 

 rods we began to fish. 1 had gone but a few yards down 

 stream when I came to a little fall with a deep hole below. 

 I put on a sprightly grasshopper and dropped it just below 

 the fall. With a rush it disappeared, and I got a tug that 

 almost paralyzed me. I was expecting a fingerling and got 

 a twelve inch trout. I hooked another good-sized one out of 

 this place, and then moved on down stream. Every few 

 rods I came to one of these little falls, and got one or two 

 trout from each place. We returned to camp at 11 o'clock 

 with a fine lot of trout, some of which were prepared for 

 dinner. At 9 o'clock we put our traps aboard and pulled on 

 down the lake, arriving at the head of St. Clair's Lake at 6 

 o'clock. The tent was put up in a grove of beech trees, near 

 a fine spring of water. In the evening we called on Mr. St. 

 Clair, who lives near where we had camped. Mr. St. Clan 

 is an old resident, and his stories of deer and bear hunts are 

 quite interesting. After a pleasant chat of an hour we went 

 back to the tent, rolled up in the blankets and were soon 

 fast asleep. 



In the morning the wind was in ourfavor, and our square- 

 sail carried us quickly down the lake. In the Ox-Bow Lake 

 we laid to and Charley got out his rifle and took a shot at a 

 loon about one hundred and fifty yards away, and by chance 

 killed it. Loons are very plenty along these lakes, and their 

 noise is heard almost constantly. At Central Lake we stopped 

 for dinner, and afterward went up to see "Kelpie" and pro- 

 cured supplies. We returned to the boat in a short time and 

 continued down the lake. When we rounded Blue Point, 

 we saw several tents on the east shore, and at once surmised 

 they belonged to the "Kingfishers." We had intended to 

 camp at this place, so we headed the boat direct for their 

 camp. We did not want to intrude, but we thought it could 

 make no difference to them as we were only going to stay 

 until morning. When we got to shore Charley asked one of 

 the men if he had any objections to our camping there for 

 the night. The answer was not very satisfactory, but we 

 concluded to stop anyway. Perhaps the gentlemen thought 

 they had good reasons for not being cordial. We had been 

 in the woods for five weeks, our clothes were torn and we 

 looked pretty rough. Charley said I looked like the "Old 

 Scratch," and I'm sure he looked worse than I did. So we 

 did not blame the "Kingfishers." We never let anything 

 disturb us, so we hurried the outfit ashore, put up the tent, 

 and got everything ready for the night. We had for supper 

 hot biscuits, honey, trout, potatoes, bacon and coffee, and 

 when we sat down to eat we were as happy as kings. 



About sundown Major Sloane, of the "Kingfishers," came 

 in with a nice string of small-mouths, one of them we judged 

 was a four-pounder at least. During the evening two' of the 

 gentlemen came over to see us. One of them said their 

 party had intended going into camp on Piatt Lake, twenty- 

 five miles southwest of Traverse City, but had changed their 

 minds and had come here instead. We broke camp early 

 next morning and pulled down the lake to Island No. 2. 

 Here we landed our traps, got our rods ready, caught some 

 frogs for bait and went bassjfishing. Charley caught a very 

 large pickerel and towed him around for half an hour, until 

 he was quite dead before he got him in the boat. The pick 

 erel was about three feet long and weighed nearly six pounds. 

 We caught one small-mouth and three big-mouth bass. 

 Landing on the west shore Charley took his rifle and went 

 for squirrels and I picked berries. ;ln an hour Charley came 

 back with two squirrels and one pheasant. When we got 

 back to camp we found two strangers there. They were 

 from the South and were stopping at Bellaire to take in the 

 fishing. We told them dinner would be ready soon and 

 invited them to stop and eat with us. They hesitated for a 

 moment and then said they would stay. We were glad to 

 have them, for we were tired for somebody new to talk 

 to. While we were getting dinner ready the gentlemen gave 

 us the news from the outside world and the time passed 

 pleasantly by. Our dinner consisted of bacon, potatoes, 

 bass, pheasant, squirrel, honey, bread and butter, coffee and 

 raspberries. Our guests remarked that it was "a fine lay 

 out" and backed up what they said by eating heartily. After 

 dinner we had pipes and tobacco, then our friends bade us 

 good bye and good luck. 



In the evening we moved down the lake and Intermediate 

 River to Bellaire, made the carry around the dam, and 

 camped just below the bridge. We stayed here three days. 

 The first two we fished in the Cedar, having fine sport and 

 taking 150 trout, one of them the largest caught on the trip; 

 it was 13 inches long and weighed 17 ounces. On the third 

 morning we got up bright and early, and after a hasty break- 

 fast struck out on the Mancelona road, followiug it for three 

 miles. We came to Shanty Creek, which empties into Grass 

 River a little above Cold Creek. This is a pretty little 

 stream and fairly alive with trout. I believe that tnis and 

 Cold Creek were the only streams where we found the 

 orange-colored trout. At 3 o'clock my creel was nearly 

 full, so I reeled in and went back to the road and found 

 Charley stretched out on the bridge fast asleep. 1 sat down 

 and cleaned my fish and put them in the creel, fastened the 

 lid down and sinking it in the creek. By this time Charley 

 was awake, and after filling up with berries we sat down on 

 the bridge to wait for the stage from Mancelona, which was 

 due here at half-past 5. The stage arrived on time, and we 

 were soon on our way to Bellaire. The driver was or had 

 been a great hunter and fisherman, and in that three-mile 

 drive we learned some remarkable things about deer and 



trout that we never knew before. That evening while eat- 

 ing supper we were surprised with a big pan of pork and 

 beans, which the storekeeper's wife had sent us. We had 

 given them trout several times, and here was a present for 

 us which we fully appreciated. 



The next morning early we were on our way down the 

 Intermediate River. By nine o'clock we had crossed Crass 

 Lake and down Grass River to Cold Creek. We tried this 

 stream again with good success, taking about thirty fine 

 trout. At one o'clock we pulled down the river and through 

 Clam Lake. At three o'clock we passed out of Clam River 

 and came into Torch Lake. Our boat was headed toward 

 Spencer's Creek, and after three hours' hard rowing against 

 the wind we landed safely at the mouth of Trautman Creek. 

 The next day we fished the Trautnmu, and in the evening 

 moved dow T n to Spencer's. As we had more trout than we 

 could use, gave some to friends. The following day we took 

 a trip overland to Leach's Creek, which empties into Clam 

 Lake. The road we took crosses this stream about, three 

 miles above its mouth, and four miles northeast of Spencer's. 

 We had a pleasant day of it, and brought home sixty trout. 

 We had intended to leave the next morning, but during the 

 night a storm came up and the lake was so rough that a trip 

 across the lake in our little craft was not to be thought of. 

 None of the steamers landed at Spencer's that morning, all of 

 them keeping close to the opposite shore, as the wind was 

 from that direction. We contented ourselves the best we 

 could picking berries, mending clothes and wishing for the 

 wind to go down. The uext morning the sun came up bright 

 and clear, and the lake was as smooth as a mirror. By six 

 o'clock we were ready to start. The boat was headed for 

 Torch River, where we arrived at eight o'clock, and resting 

 on the oars, floated slowly down until we came to the mouth 

 of Rapid River. Heading up the rapid a stiff pull of an hour 

 brought us to our old camp. The afternoon was spent in 

 fishing, but with poor success. 



As there had been plenty of trout here three weeks before, 

 we concluded they had gone further up the stream, so in the 

 morning we started for a point about two miles up the 

 river. Here we found good fishing and by noon had caught 

 all we wanted. After eating lunch we struck out for camp, 

 and when we reached there we found some cattle had been 

 fooling around and had knocked everything crooked. They 

 had tramped on our pans and plates and had mashed them 

 all out of shape, had eaten our sugar, salt, bread, two cakes 

 of soap, box of cartridges, two towels, three undershirts and 

 straw hat. Fortunately the tent was unmolested, that was 

 something to be thankful for. This little frolic of the cattle 

 made us considerable trouble, but there was no use to get 

 mad at a little thing like that, so we hustled around and got 

 things in shape again, all the time wishing the cartridges 

 that old cow had eaten would go off and kill her. We 

 had the next thing to the nightmare that night. In the 

 morning our traps were put in the boat, and, jumping in, the 

 current carried us quickly down stream. Hundreds of ducks 

 got up ahead of as, and, circling around, dropped in the 

 river behind. When we came into Round Lake our sail was 

 put up and the boat headed for Sutherland's. The boat fell 

 away some in going across, and we had to row up against 

 the wind for a short distance; but in an hour and a half we 

 reached the landing in safety. There was an empty store 

 room a few yards from the lake, whiGh we got permission 

 to occupy, and the tent was spread out on the floor for a bed, 

 while the counter served very nicely for a table. After din- 

 ner we took our rods and started for the creek, which is 

 about a mile from the landing. 



Arriving there we took a hasty survey of the surroundings 

 before starting in. Above us for a mile or so the creek runs 

 through an old clearing, and below through the woods into 

 a swamp. The bed of the creek was hard clay, and slippery 

 as soap. We found the fishing elegant, the best of any 

 place we had been, and caught over fifty in two hours, 

 throwing back all but about a dozen of the largest. Those 

 we kept averaged half a pound each. Returning to camp at 

 5 o'clock we prepared supper, and after eating took a row 

 up the lake to try our luck with the bass. We caught 

 several, putting them back in the lake as we had no use for 

 them, except the sport they gave us. The next morning the 

 sun rose bright and clear, and after a hearty breakfast we 

 struck out for the creek. We felt sure of fine sport and were 

 in high spirits, prating and prancing along like a couple of 

 boys until we came to the stream, when we sobered down 

 suddenly as though ashamed of our pranks. We intended 

 to take what trout we caught that day to Traverse City, so 

 we kept everything over six inches long. At noon we 

 cleaned our fish and put them into our bread pan, which we 

 had brought along for the purpose. At 5 o'clock we started 

 for camp with both creels and pan full of trout. After 

 supper we made all preparations possible for an early start 

 next day, and turned in for a good sleep. About midnight 

 a storm came up, and for a couple of hours the wind blew 

 and the rain poured down. We felt thankful that we were 

 completely sheltered from the storm, and were off at 6 o'clock 

 in the morning, pulling against a stiff breeze all the way to 

 Skegeemaugh Point, where we landed at 8 o'clock. Taking 

 a view of Elk Lake we decided that it was too risky to at- 

 tempt to cross to Follet's, so we sat down to wait for the 

 wind to go down, rather uncertaia business, but it was the 

 only thing left for us to do. 



At 9 o'clock the steamer Ida came along, aud we rowed out 

 to her and asked the captain to take us to Follet's; but he had 

 passengers for Traverse City boat, and had to make Elk 

 Rapids as quick as possible. We got very tired waiting on 

 the wind, and at 10 o'clock we made everything as snug as 

 possible in the boat, said our prayers, and headed our craft 

 for Follet's Landing. We felt that we were in danger and 

 scarcely spoke, but watched eveiy movement of the boat. 

 When a big wave struck us, I would head the boat down 

 and run her along in the trough until the next one came. 

 We shipped a good deal of water, but I managed to bail out 

 with one hand and steer with the other. When we landed 

 at Follet's, Charley was almost exhaused, having rowed all 

 the way, for we could not change places coming over. If 

 we had known how rough the lake was, we would have 

 stayed at the Point a week before starting out. It didn't 

 look so awful bad, and we did not realize our danger until 

 we had gone some distance from shore, and then it was too 

 late to turn back. Now that we were safe on land again, we 

 soon forgot our late trouble. 



As soon as dinner was over Charley went to get a team to 

 take us to Traverse City, and by the time he returned I had 

 our goods all packed for moving. The team was to come at 

 4 o'clock, so we had three hours to put in trout fishing. I 

 went to the old mill and fished down, and Charley started in 

 at the bridge to meet me. It was a lovely afternoon, the 

 fishing fine, and the time passed quickly away — too quick 

 for us, for we would fain have had the afternoon drawn out 



a few hours longer; but 'time waits for no one, and with 

 regret we reeled in for the last time, and walked back to 

 camp. The team was waiting for us, and when everything 

 was in the wagon we took a last look across Elk Lake and 

 away beyond to the north where we had spent so many 

 happy days, jumped into the wagon, and were driven rap- 

 idly away. Two miles from Follet's we passed the pretty 

 little village of Williamsburg on our left. Six miles further 

 on we came to Acme, a little town on the east shore of Tra- 

 verse Bay. The drive from here to Traverse City, eight 

 miles, is the finest in the kind. The road is perfectly level, 

 hard, smooth gravel, and runs alongside the bay and through 

 groves of evergreen trees almost the entire distance. A 

 more beautiful drive could not be imagined. 



We arrived in Traverse City at 7 o'clock and stopped at 

 the Occidental Hotel, where we had left our trunks. We 

 gave the proprietor of the hotel some fifteen or twenty 

 pounds of trout, which we had brought from Sutherland's 

 and Follet's. As soon as we got our store clothes on and had 

 supper, we went up street to get our hair cut and faces 

 shaved. It seemed real awkward to get on pa vements again, 

 and we went stepping along like a blind horse in high oats. 

 At 11 o'clock P. M., we took a sleeper for the south, reach- 

 ing Chicago the next evening at 7; we stayed here until the 

 following evening, arriving in St. Louis Sunday morning, 

 and California at half past two the same day; a twelve-mile 

 drive and we were once more at home. We had been gone 

 just six weeks aud twelve hours. J. O. S. 



High Point, Missouri. 



OUR BIG BASS. 



WE were camping on the Juniata that summer. We 

 had camped on the Susquehanna several times and 

 also on the Yellow Breeches and Conodoguinet creeks, but 

 we were all agreed that along the Juniata River was to be 

 found the most sport. 



We were lying stretched out in front of our tents. The hot 

 August sun shone fiercely down on the open river iu front 

 of us, but scarcely penetrated the thick foliage of the trees 

 under which our tents were pitched. Right at our sides 

 bubbled up Poorman's Spring, pure limestone water and as 

 cold as ice. In front of us flowed the beautiful Juniata, its 

 usually placid current broken at this point by a jagged mass 

 of rocks which extended clear across the river, and over 

 which the water dashed with a ceaseless roar. Below the 

 falls the water was very deep and afforded excellent fishing. 

 But that afternoon we were lazy aud somewhat tired, for in 

 the morning we had climbed four miles across the mountains 

 to visit Simon Girtis' cave, which is said to have been that 

 famous renegade's retreat. 



"Hello, boys!" came a voice suddenly from behind us, 

 "Why ain't you out on the rocks pulling in the bass?" 

 "Heilo!" we exclaimed, "where did you fellows come from?" 

 "Why, ain't we fishing?" "Oh! its more comfortable 

 here in the shade." "Well, it is nice and cool here. Dave 

 wants to go out to the falls a while. It seems like a good 

 afternoon for bass." "Any one going along?" called out 

 Dave, who was already down by the boat. "What do you 

 say to trying it a while Will?" exclaimed Charlie Horton. 

 "AH right," I answered, "I'll go out awhile. We might 

 catch something. Tell Dave to wait." 



Sam Brown was a farmer living along the mountain a 

 mile below our camp who supplied us with fruit aud vege- 

 tables, and occasionally a melon or a young chicken. Dave 

 Hardy was a veritable lone fisherman, and he possessed the 

 rare patience common to that class of individuals. The sec- 

 ond day in camp we had noticed him at daybreak fishing 

 below the falls. At noon, when we were crossing the river 

 to look for flint arrowheads, which were quite plentiful 

 at a point along the shore, he still sat there with his rod. 



"What luck?" I inquired. He shook his head slowly. 

 "They don't bite well to-day. The water is too cloudy. I 

 only caught a couple of flyers. It's no use to fish any more," 

 and picking up his rod aud a couple of small bass strung on 

 a willow switch, he began to make his way over the rocks 

 toward shore. He had been a frequent visitor at camp, and 

 his knowledge of the fishing ground along the river had been 

 of great service to us. 



We rowed out to the falls. Charlie and I took our posi- 

 tion on a rock. Dave dropped down a few yards in the boat 

 and anchored. We baited our hooks and threw in. The 

 fish did not seem to be hungry, for we waited an hour with- 

 out even a nibble. The sun was intensely hot, and we began 

 to envy the boys whom we could see lying in the shade at 

 camp. Dave did not mind the heat. He sat motionless in 

 the boat watching his line. I was looking at an inquisitive 

 turtle which had come up near me, when a sudden excla- 

 mation from Charlie made me look up. Dave had hooked 

 a fish that was engaging all his attention. He was standing 

 up in the boat, grasping the rod firmly, while the fish darted 

 from side to side. "Don't give him any line," shouted Char- 

 lie; "hold him iu." The stout hickory pole was bent nearly 

 double, and threatened to break under the strain. Suddenly 

 the fish darted straight downstream. Dave held firm. For 

 an instant there was a splash and a huge fish cut the surface 

 of the water. Then the rod flew up with half the line hang- 

 ing from the end of it. The fish was gone. Dave turned 

 around and looked at us. Then he slowly pulled up the 

 anchor and rowed up to the rock. "Come on," he said, 

 "we'll go over. I knew I could never land that fish." 



We started over. I picked up Dave's rod. The line, 

 which was made of link cord, had parted in the middle. As 

 I was stepping out of the boat I observed the tin bucket in 

 which Dave canied bait. It contained two large chubs 

 about six iuchcs long. 

 "Did you catch those out there, Dave?" I inquired. 

 He looked around. "Those chubs! Why that's my bait," 

 he replied. 



"You don't mean to say you fish with bait of that size," I 

 exclaimed. 



"Yes," said he, "I don't use any other kind. If you w T ant 

 to catch big bass you must use large bait. I hooked that 

 fish out there on a larger chub thau either of those." 



We stared at him in amazement. Fish of that size for 

 bait! Why they would have almost made a supper for the 

 crowd. 



"Yes," resumed Dave, "there's big fish out in that deep 

 water. Go down along shore here and catch some big chubs . 

 Then go out where I was and fish. You must have patience, 

 though. They won't bite as soon as you throw in." 



By this time we had reacheed camp. The boys had pre- 

 pared supper, and the loss of the big fish certainly did not 

 impair our appetites. After supper Charlie and I slipped off 

 from camp, and going down the river a short distance suc- 

 ceeded in catching half a dozen large chubs, put them in a 

 small fish box and placed the box in the river near camp. 

 "Now," said Charlie, "we'll see to-morrow how Dave's style 



