May 13, 1886.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



309 



and Taylor rivers; from Sapinero, Sapinero or Soap Creek, 

 a floe stream, and the Gunnison ; at Cimarron, both branches 

 of the Cimarron and the Gunnison in ihe Black Canon. I 

 should have mentioned Lake Fork at Sapinero. I have 

 fished all these streams and can pronounce tbem excellent. 

 The proper time to go is after the spring rise, when the 

 streams are clear and not too full. For flies I would suggest 

 coachman, governor, brown hackle, peacock body; gray 

 hackle, peacock bodv, in the order named on small, say No. 

 8 hooks, except in the Gunnison River, where No. 6 is more 

 suitable. All the stream* can be fished from the banks, but 

 your correspondent will find wading more satisfactory. He 

 will find that the officials of the road and especially at Sabda, 

 are courteous and accommodating, and will williusly afford 

 him any additional information he may require. Kokomo 

 Sauda, Col., April 27, 1886. 



CAMPS OF THE KINGFISHERS. 



CAKP LAKE, MICHIGAN. — XI. 



LL in the rain g_ave us a chauee to shed our hot 

 fnbber coats, and when we had changed place, Ben 

 settled down to the oars and the "coincidence," and I give 

 it in his own words but not in his inimitable manner, as near 

 as I can now recall it. When 1 had trimmed boat to his 

 liking, he began: 



"Several years ago I got a letter from my brother William 

 that lived in a little town away off in Northern Texas, invit- 

 in' me to come down an' spend the winter an' hev some 

 sport a huntin' with my neffew Harry, who had a cow ranch 

 on the Little Wichita River, about 120 miles from the town 

 where he lived. He said there was jest slathers o' deer in 

 the woods along the river an' in the hills not fur from the 

 ranch, an' wolves an' kyotes an' jick rabbits on the perairies 

 till ye couldn't rest. The bait was too temptin', an' I made 

 up my mind to go. 



"But I'm a leetle ahead o' the houn's— started the story 

 without a preface, ye might say — an' I might as well tell ye 

 what was the main reason that started me. Ye see, the 

 winter afore that I'd got into the habit o' hitchin' a hoss to 

 the buggy every day or two an' drivin' to town to hev some 

 fun with the boys — a gang o' town fellers that 1 was ac- 

 quainted with — an' we gioerally, six or eight of us, got into 

 one pertickelar saloon an' set au' played sell out seven up till 

 we got our hides chuck full o' a mixtur' o' malt lickers an 

 blue ruin. Lots o' times it would be after midnight when I 

 got home, fuller 'n a goose, an' I git up next mornin' with a 

 head on me bigger n a country school house, an' several 

 nights, ef my hoss hadn't a had more sense than the driver I'd 

 a failed to show up at feedin' time. Well, the day I got this 

 letter it was late in the fall, the crops was all in and housed, 

 the farm work all over, an' I'd got to goin' to town agin an' 

 tamperin' with the flowin' bowl. Goin' home that night 

 with a lighter head on than usual, I got to thinkin' thiDgs 

 over, an' I concluded I'd paid about my sheer to'ards the new 

 house the giu slinger was a-buildin', besides hevin' right 

 smart o' stock in the sparkler a-glistenin' on his shirt buzum, 

 an' techin' up the hoss kinder maddike at myself, I said, 

 'Ren R., yer a cussed fool fur the want o' sense' — an', mind 

 ye, I said it a heap stronger 'n that — 'an' the best thing you 

 ean do is to shake the gang an' go to Texas an' get the on- 

 rectified corn juice out o' ye and keep it out.' 



"Ye see," he went on after filling and lighting afresh pipe, 

 "I hev to tell ye all this afore I kin git a good start to 

 Texas. 



"Next mornin' 1 got up dryer 'n a fish, but I'd made up 

 my mind the night afore jest what I was a goin' to do, an' 

 as my head was not so hig but what I could git it through 

 the door, I went out to the pump an' let about a half a bar'l 

 o' water sizzel down my throat, an' from that day to this 

 I've not teched a drop 6' anything strong enough to confuse 

 a hossfly, 'thout it's coffy an' tea an' sich like home made 

 flooids. 



"Brother Jack an' his wife an' me talked it all over that 

 mornin', an' as Jack an' a hired hand or two that we gener- 

 ally kep' through the winter could git along with the stock 

 an' what little work there was to do about the*farm in winter 

 time, they thought it would be a good scheme fur me to go, 

 'specially if I kep' on 'tendin' the seeances in town. 



"I went to town that day, an' after paralizin' the boys by 

 refusin' to drink with 'em, I bought some things I'd need, 

 ye see I didn't hev to buy a gun fur I had as good a Win- 

 chester as ever was turned loose, an' next day was off fur 

 the Southwest, dry as a contribushun-box, but feelin' a heap 

 better 'n I expected. 



"I reckon the gang an' the head sawyer o' the gin mill 

 missed me from my usual place at the costive board, but I'd 

 had enough o' his buzz saw whisky, an' the move I was 

 makin' would be money in my pocket ef nothin' else, fur ye 

 can bet yer last fish hook, Hickory, that ye never draw out 

 any dividends from money that ye invest in a gin slinger's 

 bu'ddin' associashun; the more ye put in the less ye take 

 out." 



Just here a thoughtless big-mouthed bass interrupted the 

 story by a savage pull at the frog trailing away astern, and 

 at the end of a five minutes' vigorous remonstrance with him 

 for the breach of good manners, he was towing alongside the 

 boat with a stringer through his lower jaw, to take his turu 

 in the frying-pan next day as a brain sharpener for the 

 family. "Ben reached for the stringer, raised the fish out of 

 water to "heft" it, and droppiug it back remarked, "three- 

 pounder, I reckou, an' a right smart fighter fur one o' the 

 open-faced kind." 



"Well," he continued, after wetting his whistle with a tin 

 cup of water dipped from the lake, "i arrived at my brother's 

 in due course o' time, an' he was as glad to see ole Ben as ef 

 he'd found a soap mine, an' I was mighty glad that 1 was 

 about at the end o' my journey, fur 1 was nigh about clean 

 bushed, as Jim says, out after a few days rest an' a heap o' 

 talk about ole times when we was youngsters together 1 felt 

 in middlin' good trim an' got ready fur a start to the ranch. 



"I bought a rackin' good liitle hoss, or pony I'd call him 

 [by some unaccountable oversight Ben left off ike usual pre- 

 fix to "rackin' "J, a big navy pistol an' a scalpin' knife of un- 

 usual dimenshuns, an' I felt heeled fur killin' deer, buffalow, 

 wolves, Injuns, or any other species o' wild animals that 

 might git in my way." 



Then he told about his long ride to the "cow ranch," and 

 described in his humorous way the peculiarities of the four 

 "cow punchers" and the cook, who with himself and nephew 

 "are a couple o' lean lookin' dogs without any leadin' traits 

 o' character less it was bein' always huugry," were to make 

 up the "family" and pass the winter in this isolated region, 

 near a hundred miles from another habitation. 



For near an hour he rowed slowly along the line of bul- 

 rushes and grass fringing the shore, now and then stopping 



for me to make a castor two inshore at a likely-looking spot, 

 recounting in his droll way the many days of great sport he 

 had with deer, wolf and sneaking coyote, and each day's 

 hunt with any special feature of iuterest in it was told with 

 such accuracy of detail and with such realistic descriptive 

 power that at times 1 fancied I was au actual participant in 

 the glories of the day. 



Then, as we passed a patch of yellow water lilies reaching 

 out into the lake from the grass line, came a sharp dispute 

 with another "snake," which ended disastrously for his 

 suakeship, iu that he was shortly doing a ground and lofty 

 flopping feat in the boat, snapping his vicious jaws together 

 on the gimp, and glaring savagely at us with his snaky eyes. 

 When quiet had been restored by a smart rap of the club, 

 Ben dropped the oars and lighting the brier-root for not It S3 

 than the twentieth time since leaving camp, he went on 

 without removing it from his mouth. 



"I'll leave out several o' the least interestiu' chapters o' 

 this tale, an' jest say that I had more sport there at the cow 

 ranch than I ever bad on the face o' this livin' earth, 'less it 

 was when 1 ketched that big muskylunge over in Central 

 Lake last year. 



"Deer was plenty, an' it was no trick to go out an' kill 

 more 'n we could u c e, an' knockin' over a wolf or kyote 

 every once in awhile was worked in as pastime to keep us 

 from killing too many deer; but" — with a solemn blink of 

 his eyes— "but the Injuns must a got wind that I was 

 a comin', fur not a solitary one of 'em showed up while I 

 was around, an' I didn't git to use my big scalpin' knife only 

 to peel the hides off the game I killed. 



"I hunted most o' the best days an' loafed around the 

 ranch in bad weather, and eat deer meat and jack rabbit 

 stews an' slept good o' nights, till 1 got as fat an' lazy as a 

 possum in a paw paw patch, an' afore I thought the winter 

 had fairly set in it was mighty nigh time for me to hustle 

 home an' put in a few licks at the spring work on the farm. 



"I hadn't brought my trunk nor no dude clothes with me, 

 so I strapped my wardrobe on behind the saddle, said good- 

 bye to Harry an' the other fellers, an' one mornin' afore day- 

 light a solitary horseman might hev biu seen pursuin' of his 

 way acrost the perairies, with his cutwater a-pintin' a leetle 

 south o' sunrise. 



"Just about dusk, after ridin' between eighty an' ninety 

 miles, I pulled up at the only house between the ranch an' 

 the little town, where I intended to stay all night an' rest 

 myself an' the pony, fur it had bin a long pull on the little 

 feller; but he was a clean stepper and a stayer from 'way 

 back on his gran'father's side, an' he'd made the whole dis- 

 tance on a few bites o' grass about noon an' a drink o' water 

 once 'n a while without turnin' a hair. 



"I hollered to see ef anybody was at home, an' a woman 

 opened the door an' asked what was wantin,' an' I told her 

 very politely who I was, where I come from an' where I 

 was goin', an' asked ef I could stay all night an' git somethin' 

 to eat for me a' my hoss. 



"She said she could git me some supper, but I couldn't 

 stop over night unless her husband got back from town. She 

 expected him back in an hour or two, an' I could eat some 

 supper an' wait that long anyhow. A bite to eat an' a rest 

 was good enough fur Ben, even ef 1 had to move on after- 

 ward, an' it wasn't many minutes till the pony was stripped 

 an' picketed out, fur there was nary a sign of a shed or 

 stable in sight, an' I was settin' in the house with my mouth 

 a-waterin', waitin' fur the promised supper. 



"The lady said they hadn't much of a variety in the way 

 o' eatables, but ef I could git along with some corn bread an' 

 bacon, an' some molasses an' a cup o' tea I was welcome to 

 it. I told her that corn bread an' side meat was one o' my 

 best holts when I was a-travelin', an' as fur tea, I was a heap 

 fonder of it than the heethen chinee that makes the turkle 

 tracks on the tea boxes. 



"When I said that 1 noticed a small smile lurkin' around 

 the corners o' her mouth, an' she didn't 'pear quite so skit- 

 tish as when I first went in the house, an' 1 kinder felt then 

 that I was in fur the best in the ranch. Tell ye, Hickory, 

 there's nothing like playin' a little strategy on the wimen 

 folks, 'specially when yer a-talkin' fur somethin' to eat. 



"The first proceedin' she made to'ards supper was to git 

 out a shaller cast iron skillet with a handle au' three legs to 

 it, wipe it out with her apron an' set it on some coals she 

 raked out from the fireplace, fur there was nary stove in the 

 house, an' then lean the lid of it up agin one o' the dog irons 

 to git it hot, Then she got some corn r>ieal in a pan from 

 somewhere back in the corner an' set in to mixin' it into a 

 tolerable stiff dough, an' when it was the light thickness, 

 she scooped out a big hau'f ul an' patted it an' tossed it back 

 and forth frum one hand to t'other, an' then patted it agin 

 till she got it into a ball about as big as my fist, an' then she 

 laid it down on the table. 



'About this time I noticed a cradle a settin' jest back o' 

 me, an' d'rectly there was a commotion in it an' then a squall, 

 an' in about a second there was some o' the tallest kickin' 

 with a pair o' chubby legs an' a sawin' of the air with two 

 fat little arms an' fists a goin' on in that cradle that ever was 

 seen on the lace o' this livin' earth, an' the squallin' was in- 

 creasin' with every kick. 



"'Hush, baby,'" sed Mistress Jones— I forgot to tell ye 

 the i'olkses name was Jones, some o' the oiiginal Janes 

 family, I reckon— 'hush, baby!' don't cry now till I git the 

 gentleman's supper ready.' The gentleman was me, mind 

 ye," said the blessed old sinner, with a wink and a comical 

 t wist of his sun-browned face that would have made a Digger 

 Indian laugh. 



"She was a pattin' the second corn dodger jest then an' I 

 hitched over au' went to rockin' the craule to see if I could 

 pasify the baby an' keep the supper proceeding from comin' 

 to a full stop. 



" 'Sho, little feller,' sez I, ye see I took the chances on it 

 bein' a boy by the way it yelkd. 'Sho uow; dou't cry, little 

 snoozer; don't ye see yer mammy's a makin' patty cakes fur 

 the gentleman?' 



kep' a rockin' an' talkin' taffy to the little sardeen till 

 I reckon I must a rocked a little too hard, fur I felt his head 

 bump agin the side o' the cradle an' then he jest turned him- 

 self loose an' squalled with renewed vigor. Great hoss 

 ches'nuts! how he yelled, an' 1 rocked with increased 

 vehemence. 



'Jest then his mammy had begun to pat dodger number 

 three, but she drapped it on the table an' in kss'n a second 

 was sittin' in a cneer alongsiae 'o the cradle, au' had the 

 little fellow yanked out an' spread out on her lap a layin' 

 flat on his stummick. 



"She jerked the little loose calico slip that stood fur a 

 whole suit o' clothes up over his head, and there he lay as 

 bare as the back o' my hand, an' a kickin' an' a yeliin' fit to 

 kill. Whack! she took him jest about aft o' the dorsal fin, ef 

 he'd a bin a trout. Clip, clip, whack ! without givjn' him time 



to ketch his breath, an' at every lick the dough flew clear 

 over to the fireplace. 



"The performance didn't last more 'n two seconds an' a 

 quarter, but when it was over the little feller looked like he'd 

 bin a sittin' down in the bread pan, an' bis mother pulled the 

 slip back to its place an' socked him down in the cradle an' 

 srz quiet like, 'There, now I I guess you'll stop bellerin' till I 

 git the gentleman's supper ready.' 



"I reckon he'd bin there before fur it knocked all the squall 

 out o' him, an' he snuggled down as quiet as ef he'd swallered 

 a whole bottle o' sootbin' syrup, or a pint o' parjgorick. 



"I felt kinder sorry fur the little cuss, for he wasn't more 

 'n fourteen or fifteen months old, an' at the same time 1 was 

 nearly a bustin' to laugh at the way the dough flew. When 

 she put the little man back in the cradle Mistress Jones went 

 straight back to the table an' grabbed up the unfinished 

 dodger, without washiu' her ban's, mind ye, an' patted an' 

 tossed it this a way an' that. [Here Ben let the oars trail 

 while be went through the motions of to«sing aud patting a 

 corn dodtrer. in such an utterly ludicrous manner that I 

 laughed till I was forced to lay the rod down that I might 

 employ both hands in holding my aching sides, Ben joining 

 in at last out of pure sympathy.] like she was in a hurry to 

 make up fur lo-t time, till she got it into the light shape. 



' She laid No. 3 'longside o' the other two," Ben went on 

 when we had come to our senses, "an I kep' on rockin' the 

 cradle easy like fur fear the kickin' and squallin' would 

 break out agin, but ye kin bet yer last chaw tobacker I kep' 

 my eye on that pertickelar dodger, fur I didn't jest like the 

 experience it had jest bin through. 



"There was only dough left fur two more, an' when they 

 was finished she greased the skillet with a piece o' bacon rine 

 an' put 'em in one at a time an' patted 'em down flat till the 

 bottom o' the skillet was kivered ; an' me a keepiu' a peeled 

 eye on No. 3 by makin' a landmark o' the skillet Uandle. 

 > But when she put the lid on an' shoveled some coals^on it 

 an' turned it around two or three times while they was a 

 bakin', I forgot which Side o' the handle No. 3 was on, an' 

 lost the bearm's o' the durned thing altogether." 



Here the yarn seemed to end, as Ben rowed along for sev- 

 eral rods seemingly lost in thought without saying a word, 

 and smoking placidly the while as was his wont. 

 "Did you eat any supper, Ben?" I finally asked. 

 "Course," he said, rousing himself, "a little thing like 

 that don't amount to nothin' when yer huugry, but I was 

 jest a tryin' to think which side o' the skillet handle that 

 cussed corn dodger was on. Wheu the table was set an' the 

 tea made an' the bacon fried, I sailed in, an' I don't believe 

 1 ever eat a meal on the face o' this livin' earth that tasted 

 better'u that did. Ye see, I'd made up my mind not to eat 

 No. 3, but I'd lost the bearin's of it, an' ef I'd a left one of 

 'em it would hev bin jest my luck to leave No. 1 or 5, so I 

 eat the whole five so as to give the one I was the most con- 

 serned m a fair show with the rest, an' they all tasted jest 

 alike. I done some monstrous braggin' on that supper as it 

 disappeared, but when the table was cleared i come mighty 

 nigh sp'ilin' it all an' makin' a cussed fool o' myself, fur I 

 was jest a goin' to say that 'it was good enough fur the 

 Joneses, fur they never was used to the very besl o' every- 

 thing, nohow ;' but I ketched myself jest iu time, an' choked 

 it back, but it was sich a narrer escape that it made me 

 sweat. 



"After supper, when I was a thinkin' I'd hev to saddle up 

 an' move on, Mister Jones himself come an' I got permission 

 to stay all night. I went out an' hobbled the pony an' turned 

 him loose to rustle 'round after the rest o' Ms supper, au' 

 next mornin', after walkiu' a half a mile after him, I saddled 

 up, thanked the folks fur their hospitality to me an' my 

 hoss, said goodbye an' rode on to the little town bef _>re" noon 



"I stayed at my brother's a few days, sold the little hoss, 

 an' then he rode with me to Sherman— at the end of the 

 railroad — to take the hosses back, an' we made the whole 

 distance o' ninety miles in one day. In a few days I was 

 back at the farm wadiu' into the spring work like I was a 

 seinin' fur minners. An' the trip done me a heap o' good, 

 only for one thing," said Ben, soberly. Here he removed a 

 pair of blue tinted spectacles from his nose that he usually 

 wore when on the water, wiped his eyes with great delibera- 

 tion with a voluminous silk handkerchief secreted some- 

 where in his overshirt, and after replacing specs and hand- 

 kerchief and picking up the oars, continued, "Ever sence 

 that trip it 'pears liae my eyes hev been kinder weak an' 

 watery, an' I reckon I must a strained cm that night a-tryiu' 

 to keep track o' that durned Texas corn dodger." 



The "coincidence" was told, and could it be told on paper 

 in old Ben's inimitable manner, with his ludicrous motions 

 of shaping the dodger and administering the "sootbin' 

 surup" to the "little sardeen," and with his serious delibera- 

 tions of speech, the reader would doubtless have occasion to 

 hold his aching sides, as I did, but an effort to do justice to 

 his quaint droll rehearsal of ihe "fun he had iu Texas" 

 would be as futile as an attempt to paint a streak o'moonshine. 



KlNGFISJiEE. 



Cincinnati, O. 



TIM AND THE SEVEN PONDS. 



TELEGRAMS say the ice has gone from Moosehead Lake. 

 No doubt this is the best lake in Northern Maine for 

 tne sportsmen that prefer to fish in deep water or troll for 

 large trout. The steamboat nuisance has not so badly in- 

 fested it as it has the once noble lakes of the Rangeley re- 

 gion; nor have high water and low water, new uaius and 

 broken dams, as spoken of by your recent correspondent, 

 demoralized the trout and guide3 so the fish canuot be fouud. 

 This doubtless is regarded by the Stale Commissioners as a 

 grand provision of mau and nature to restock these Andro- 

 scoggiu lakes. They have become so much depleted tney 

 needed rest. 



But for greatest number of trout, ranging from 6 ounces 

 to 2$ pounds iu weight, and for the greatest amouut ot sport 

 to the fly fisherman, the Dead River region has no tqual. 

 This is clearly proved by the fact that "oid-nmers" have bid 

 adieu to other waters and turned to Tim and the Seven 

 Ponds. This is true of Bostonians. Very large paiiies leave 

 soon for these ponds, aud still larger numbers are preparing 

 to go about the last of this month or early in June. Those 

 best posted say the ponds wili open about two weeks earlier 

 than last year. Mr. Lambert, tUe favorite landlord at Tim 

 Pond, has been tker* marly a moutn putting wharves, boats 

 and camps in better order than ever uetore. Eugar Smith 

 and wife are to have charge at Seven Ponds, and their tbou- 

 sauds of friends know what this means. A new hotel has 

 been built at Kingfifld, furnished in graud style for a coun- 

 try hotel, aud is to be run by a man well known and popular 

 in that section of the couutry. This, as 1 have said iu your 

 columns, has been a great need since the old "tavern" of the 

 place was burned. Thousands with me will rejoice at thin 



