386 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 10, 1886. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ng Co. • 



THE TROUT STREAM THAT NOBODY KNOWS. 

 TTAVE you heard of the trout stream that nobody knows, 

 Stealing silent and sheltered 'neath o'erhanging trees, 

 While out through the meadows it ripples and flows, 

 Kissed by the grasses, caressed by the breeze? 



Secluded it wanders unheeded by man, 

 Unknown to the aDgler, secure from his wiles. 



And the trout, unmolested (no fear of the pan), 

 Ijeapand dart and bask safely in nature's sweet smiles. 



I heard of a trout stream that nobody knows 

 (A friend (?) told it me and I rowed I'd ne'er tell). 



The world after that had a eouleur de rose, 

 And my dreams were of trout creels, rods, reels and— well, 



1 resolved to explore this wonderful stream, 



To enjoy a day's outing alone by its side, 

 And so, by the virtue of stage coach and steam, 



I arrived like a bridegroom equipped for his bride. 



For no bridegroom adjusted bis nuptual day tie 



More deftly than I tied my leader that day ; 

 I tested my reel and the shade of each fly, 



And trembling and eager went forth to the fray. 



I followed directions and soon found the stream- 

 It was sparkling, pellucid, than crystal more clear. 



But what is that signboard. Great Scott! do I dream? 

 "No fishing or hunting allowed around here." 



Like most of the craft, I discarded the sign, 

 And made a deft cast o'er a black darkling pool. 



A rise, a strong tug and a quick straight' ning line, 

 And I landed a chub! -less than six by the rule. 



Down a well-beaten path I encountered a boy 



With a twig for a rod and a pail for a creel; 

 His face was all radiant and shining with joy, 



For his pail held a sucker, two chubs and an eel. 



He offered the lot for a broad silver half, 



And remarked, 'They are better than nothin', you know:.'' 

 But I spurned his kind offer, demurred at his laugh. 



And wended my way to fresh pastures below. 



Encouraged, I worked as i ne'er worked before, . 



Tried new flies, luscious worms, every art I possessed. 

 But I got not a rise, and met anglers more 



Than I'd any idea the whole country pisses^ed. 



At last I departed disgusted and sore, 

 With a hearty consignment to deepest of woes 



Of that friend who had put me<he's my friend no inorei 

 On the banks of that trout stream that nobody knows. 



. H. W. D. L, 



DAYS WITH THE BARMECIDE CLUB. 



IT WAS a bonny morning with a mild and exquisite sky 

 of tenderest blue. It was impossible not to feel the ex- 

 hilaration in the magic of the forest air, more potent in its 

 effects than tbe cunning products of alchemy. A scarlet- 

 headed woodpecker making the cbips fly in some hollow 

 beech tree awakened us. The engineer and conductor of 

 our freight train had remained over a day at Our Lake in 

 order that he might have a mess of trout to take home with 

 him, as he said his "old woman would be powerful dispinted 

 ef he come back out no fish," so giving him what we had on 

 the ice and instructing him when to come after us, we bade 

 him good-bye, and away we went with the enthusiasm of 

 reawakened life to our sport; Roy and Storm to the lake, 

 and Glen to the brook below — a baby of a river and a pretty 

 stream it is, alive and bristling (if a brook can bristle) 

 with charming surprises as it flows on to join the river ever 

 so far away; here running riot or chanting gaily around the 

 slippery rocks and working through or leaping over the 

 smooth boulders, with a rippling musical sound like the re 

 frain of an old ballad; then a stretch like a sheet of undulat- 

 ing glass, over which the rosy mayflowers lean and blush at 

 their own vanity; jutting rocks and fallen trees turn it this 

 way and that, hold it for a little in stillwaters, while it 

 gathers masses of creamy bubbles, then releases it and lets it 

 go in white-capped disorder, dancing to its own wild music 

 and seeking the rest it never finds. 



In the quiet at the upper pool, just above where the waters 

 begin to whirl in furious dance, resided one of the best known 

 and most influential trout in the "deestrict." We had been 

 told of him on our way up, and informed regarding some of 

 his peculiarities. One man said he was an old "sockdol- 

 ager," whatever that may be, while another said there was 

 no use trying for him, but cautioned us not to miss fishing 

 the pool, for there were others in it good enough to try our 

 tackle to the last ounce. 



Glen was to have the pools this morning, and none more 

 likely to render a good account of his stewardship, for, as 

 Tom Northbeam described Mr. Greenshield to the clergy- 

 man, "I think he must have been a fish one day himself, he 

 knows all their doings so well." A coachman and a scarlet 

 ibis were attached to the carefully examined leader, a few 

 throws on the shallow stretch above to remove the kinks, 

 and Glen, making a quarter turn, landed his flies in the 

 center of the pool, drew them slowly toward him and placed 

 them further to the other side almost under a little fringe of 

 alder; and his troutship went for that beautiful stretcher, 

 not with the boisterous rush of the school boy nearest the 

 door, but like a polished gentleman entering a drawing-room. 

 Quickly, as the almost imperceptible movement on top of 

 the water showed, he sucked in that ibis; and just as quickly 

 Glen fastened the hook. How suddenly everything changed. 

 The trout was no longer the quiet, mild-mannered gentle- 

 man, but a fighter from the word, one who would not hesi- 

 tate at any expedient to smithcreen everything. He thinks 

 the end justifies the means and he is right. 



There was no misunderstanding the intentions of those 

 demoniac gyrations. He's not one "to surrender ere the 

 assault," nor for some time afterward, and he evinced a com- 

 plete unity of purpose, a pressure, as it were, on the line of 

 at least a hundred pounds to the square inch. See him! how 

 that trout can play seven-up. He's high, low and game to 

 the last. A neighboring kingfisher chattered his displeasure 

 from the bare arms of a deceased pine in his noisy way, but 

 there was a selfish sound about it that merited and received 

 no attention. The trout is moving slowly and surely away 



as the measured click, click, click of the reel announces, and 

 heading down stream, Glen prepares to carry him through 

 the short rapids to a pool below, where he arings him up 

 with a round turn as smartly as though he had been hitched 

 to a snubbing post. No, no, Mr. Trout, I am not afraid of 

 you now (which reminds me of what the old lady said to the 

 little boy who was eyeing the pie which was cut in very 

 small pieces indeed, "Help yourself to a piece, sonny, and 

 don't be afraid of it." The boy answered, "I would not be 

 afraid of it if it were twice as big.") Carefully, now, shshshsh ! 

 At last he yields to the combined influence of split bamboo 

 and coercion. Now the landing net. So-o-o, good enough. 

 Toss him ashore on the long lush gra&s. Handsome fellow 

 you are, whether leaping the cascades, rushing through the 

 riffs, circling among the eddies, or breaking upward in the 

 mirror-like pools, a fit theme for the eloquence of Dawson, 

 and on the table a dietetic glory to whom Soyer can do no 

 more than justice. 



Perhaps he didn't weigh a ton, but probably he was a 

 "sockdolager;" and surely the pool was worth the trying, 

 as were also the others just below, as Glen's creel testified 

 ere he was through with them. The angling on the lake was 

 equally good for Roy and Storm, and* the morning's sport 

 was full of abundant satisfaction. The late afternoon fly- 

 casting was a repetition of our morning's experience, though 

 we returned to the water every fish that was not seriously 

 damaged, and which we thought would have a good chance 

 of growing older, heavier and wiser. 



Not much more than a stone's throw from Our Lake was 

 another lake of perhaps three quarters of a mile long, and 

 averaging about two hundred yards in width. The shores 

 were very irregular, and from no point could an extended 

 view of the lake be had. Between this and Our Lake was 

 a carry (or drag) of not more than thirty yards, and you 

 launched your boat into good fishing, but the other end 

 afforded better and gave you besides a nice outlet where one 

 was almost always certain of a few good rises. We have 

 never paddled the length of this lake without seeing from 

 one to a dozen or more deer feeding along shore. Its jutting 

 points and sudden turns enables one to paddle very close to 

 the deer before they are aware of the presence of "strangers, 

 and many a time did we amuse ourselves by seeing how 

 near we could approach them, and then watch their curious 

 movements before they were fully satisfied as to our identity, 

 and then how gracefully they would bound away and dis- 

 appear in the forest. 



Did we kill any of them? Now that is a leading question, 

 especially as this was the close season; but to be candid and 

 truthful, Storm did kill one and only one, a young buck, though 

 he might easily have killed a dozen. We found him quite a 

 welcome addition to our supplies at camp and thereby recon- 

 ciled our consciences to his unseasonable taking off. All 

 facts considered, we don't think any sportsman in the world 

 will attach any blame nor unsportsmanlike conduct to the 

 proceedings, and if they do we can only plead that honest 

 confession, which is said to be "good for the soul, " is like 

 charity, it "covers a multitude of sins." 



The outlet of the lake was very broad, smooth and shallow 

 where it left the lake, but gradually narrowed until it became 

 as turbulent as the orthodox mountain stream. The fish at 

 the head of the outlet were of fairly good size, but grew 

 smaller as the stream grew narrower and more rapid in its 

 movement. We gave it several investigations during our 

 stay in the neighborhood, more for the sake of variety than 

 for any extra inducements it afforded in the way of sport. 



The only well-defined break in the circle of hills which en- 

 compassed Our Lake was near the upper end, where the land 

 was low and swampy and covered with a heavy growth of 

 tamarack. A few rods south a neighboring lake discharged 

 its surplus into this, and here was always a favorite place 

 for casting the fly with almost a certainty of reward. There 

 was also a wide spread of lily pads, and by casting just on 

 the outside edge of them and using a scarlet ibis one could 

 coax, in the early morning before the sun was fairly under 

 way on his day's journeyT a half dozen or more early fish. 

 Red ibis would do the trick; or, if flies of that description 

 were not in the book, a little piece of red flannel carefully 

 attached to the hook made a very taking substitute; in fact, 

 so wonderfully well did it answer that we economized to the 

 extent of using in this particular locality the flannel fly alto- 

 gether. 



By poling or pushing our boat through the lily pads 

 toward the tamarack; swamp we could a frogging go, and by 

 using a medium-sized hook and a piece of bright scarlet flan- 

 nel secure quite a welcome addition to our menu; in fact, as 

 trout and, shall we say it, venison (that venison is like Ban- 

 quo's ghost, it will not down) began to pall on our appetites, 

 the frogs more than compensated for their failure to longer 

 tickle our palates. The catching of them could hardly be 

 catalogued under the head of sport, but it contributed a little 

 variety to our day-to-day doings. 



Toward the lower end of the lake is a small rocky island, 

 partly covered with blackbeny bushes, but entirely denuded 

 of timber. It is called Friz Island from the alleged fact of 

 a French deer hunter passing several days there, nearly 

 freezing and starving before he was rescued from his pre- 

 dicament. He was hounding deer late in the fall. He had 

 put out his dogs and then rowed to the island, there to 

 watch for any deer which they might drive into the lake. 

 Unfortunatelv he neglected to secure his boat, and the first 

 intimation he" had ot his actual position was seeing the little 

 craft go drifting down toward the outlet. Here was a pretty 

 howdedo, for he was unable to swim a stroke; he had no 

 matches to set fire to the small green brush at hand, and not 

 a mouthful to eat. His friends at the settlement, when his 

 dogs returned without him, organized a party to search for 

 him, and found him after he had been a prisoner for eight 

 or ten days. He was found more dead than alive, but com- 

 plained only of the cold, which he called "friz." Served 

 him right for hounding deer, and we hope it cured him, but 



doubt it. MhJjABD. 



Oaft. Martin Scott.— Every one of your readers should 

 know all about Capt. Martin Scott and of his famous muzzle- 

 loader rifle shooting, also the famous story of that wise 

 c oon, also of Capt. Scott's heroic life and of his gallant death 

 upon the field of battle where (near the writer of this) he fell 

 face to the enemy. Now who will be kind enough to write 

 an article for Forest and Stream, giving a short account 

 of Capt. Martin Scott's career, both as a great rifle shot and 

 hunter and as a military man. I hope some one of his old 

 comrades of the early days of our western frontier will step 

 to the front and answer to this most worthy call. There 

 must be I think a few yet remaining of his old associates 

 who knew him better than myself. I will wait for a time 

 to hear them speak.— Maj. H. W. Merrill (New York, 

 May 21). 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co. 



BIRDS OF CENTRAL PARK. NEW YORK. 



A PRELIMINARY LIST, BY LEWIS B WOODRUFF AND AUGUSTUS 

 G. PAINE, JR. 

 Drawn up May SI, 188$. 

 The nomenclature and classification are those of the American Orni- 

 thologists" Union "Check List." For some valuable additions 

 to this list credit is given to Mr. E. T. Adney, 



1. Zarus marinus (47) Great Black-backed Gull.— Winter 

 visitant; rare. 



2. Lams argeidatus smithsordaaus (51a) American Herring 

 Gull. — Winter resident; abundant. 



3. Aix Sponsa (144) Wood Duck, — Summer resident; not 

 common. 



4. Branta canadensis (172) Canada Goose.— Rare; generally 

 observed during migration. 



5. Botaurus lentiginosus (190) American Bittern.— Rare. 

 A specimen was observed May 10, 1886, by E. T. Adney. 



6. Ardea drescms (201) Green Heron. — Summer resident; 

 not common. 



7. Nyctkorax nyeticorax ruetius (202) Black-crowned Night 

 Heron. — Summer resident; not uncommon. A specimen 

 has been observed in December. 



8. Fulica anwrkana (221) American Coot.— Spring and fall 

 migrant; common, 



9. Actitis macularia (263) Spotted Sandpiper. — Summer 

 resident: common. 



10. JEMalilis voeifera (273) Killdeer. — Rare. Observed by 

 E. T. Adney, Sept. 3, 1884. 



11. (Jolinus viryiidanus (289) Bob White. — Resident; not 

 common. 



12. Bonasa uinbeVus (300) Ruffed Grouse. Resident; not 

 common. 



13. Accipiier celox (332) Sharp shinned Hawk.— Rare. 

 Observed by E. T. Adney. 



14. Buteo borealis (337) Red-tailed Hawk.— Resident; most 

 common in fall. 



15. HaMaetus leucoeephalus (352) Bald Eigle. — Very rare. 

 A specimen remained two months in the Park during the 

 fall of 1866. 



16. Pandion haUaetus carolinensis (364) American Osprey. — 

 This species is not rare in the vicinity of Riverside Park, and 

 occasionally is observed flying high over Central Park. 



17. Syrnium nebutosuni (368) Barred Owl.— Winter resi- 

 dent; common. 



18. Nyctala acadica (372) Saw-whet Owl.— Resident: not 

 common. 



19. Megascops asio (373) Screech Owl. — Resident: not 

 common. 



20. Coceysus erythrophtJialmus (388) Black-billed Cuckoo. 

 — Summer resident; rare. E T. Adney. 



21. Geryle ateyon (390) Belted Kingfisher.— Summer resi- 

 dent; not common. 



22. Dryobates rillosus (373) Hairy Woodpecker.— Resi- 

 dent; not common. 



23. Dryobates pubescent (394) Downy Woodpecker.— Resi- 

 dent; common. 



24. Sphyrapicus carius (402) Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.— 

 Migrant; not common. 



25. Melanerpes erytJiroceplialus (406) Red-headed Wood- 

 pecker.— Rare. Observed by E. T. Adney. Aug. 27, 1885. 



26. Colapies avratus (412) Yellow-shafted Flicker.— Resi- 

 dent; not uncommon. 



27. A/drostomus weiferw (147) Whip-poor-will.— Summer 

 resident; rare. Observed bv E T. Adney. 



28. Chordeilm virgimanus (420) Nighthawk.— Summer res- 

 ident; common, breeds. 



29. CJuelura pelagka (423) Chimney Swift.— Summer res- 

 ident; very common. 



30. TrochUus colubris (428) Ruby-throated Humming Bird. 

 — Summer resident; common. 



31. Tyrannus tyranniis(4£i) Kingbird.— Summer resident; 

 very common; breeds. 



32. Myiarchus crinitus (432) Crested Flycatcher.— Summer 

 resident; rare. Observed by E. T. Adney. 



33. Sayomis phxhe (456) Phoebe.— Summer resident; 

 very common ; breeds. 



34. Contopusmrem (461) Wood Pe wee.— Summer resident; 

 common. 



;-;5 J . '■donax- fladvcntrw(iGB) Yellow-bellied Flycatcher. 

 —Rare. Observe'd on Sept. 19-Oct. 10.. 1885, by E. T. Ad- 

 ney. 



36. Enipidvna.r miidiaas (467) Least Flycatcher.— Summer 

 resident; very common; breeds. 



37. Alauda amends ([473]) Skylark.— Six pairs were let 

 loose in the Park by Mr. J. R. Jones in 1867. The experi- 

 ment could not have been a success, as there is no sign of 

 their having become naturalized. 



38. Oyanociita eristata (477) Blue Jay.— Resident; not 

 common. 



39. Conms amerimn as' (4.88) American Crow.— Resident; 

 common. 



40. DolkJwnyx oryzi corns (494) Bobolink.— Summer resi- 

 dent; not common. 



41. Mohthrus ater (495) Cowbird.— Summer resident ; com- 

 mon ; breeds. " . 



42. Agelmus phaniceus (498) Redwing Blackbird.— Sum- 

 mer resident; not common. 



43. Bturnella magna (501) Meadow Lark.— Summer resi- 

 dent; common. 



44. leterus spurius (506) Orchard Oriole.— Summer resi- 

 dent ; common, breeds. 



4. 45. Icterus gaUnda (507) Baltimore Oriole.— Summer resi- 

 lient; common, breeds. 



46. Scolecophagus carolinns (509) Rusty Blackbird.— Spring 

 and fall migrant; common. 



47. Quiscalus quiscula (511) Purple Grackle.— Arrives first 

 of March and remains till December. Abundant; breeds. 



48. Carpodacus purpureus (517) Purple Finch.— Summer 

 resident; not common, breeds. 



49. Loceia curmrostra minor (521) American CrosshUl.— 

 Winter resident; rare. 



50. Spinus tristis (529) American Goldfinch.— Resident; 

 abundant. . '. 



51. Spinm pinus (533) Pine Siskin— Spring, fall and 

 winter visitant; not uncommon. 



52. Pooccetes gramineus (540) Vesper Sparrow.— Summer 

 resident; common. 



53. Ammodramus sandwicJiensis savanna. (542a) Savanna 

 Sparrow. — Summer resident; common. 



54. ZonotrkMa leucophrys (554) White crowned Sparrow. 

 — Spring and fall migrant: not common. 



