430 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 1, 1886. 



at last lags, and we are in readiness to turn. Our tent is 

 eight feet square, tbree foot wall, arranged -with a curtain 

 running full length, and from peak to floor. Spreading first 

 our rubber blankets to keep out the dampness, then getting 

 into our blanket bags, drawing up our heavy woolen blankets 

 over us, we soon fall asleep, and Camp Sauford is in silence. 



Of the days that followed it would be nearly impossibe to 

 speak in detail. The memory now is one delightful whole, 

 yet there are incidents which are engraved on our minds as 

 pictures never to be effaced; and during the long winter 

 months, while our rods and camp kit are carefully packed 

 away, the recollection of these days and nights under canvas 

 comes back with realistic pleasure. 



Of our guides, a word: The older one, on whom rested 

 the greater responsibility, was a quiet, steady fellow about 

 thirty-three years old, a man of family, who for several 

 winters had been in charge of lumber camps, and was a^o 

 active on the "drive" in the spring. A man of muscle, who 

 could handle a canoe well in a heavy sea and was quick to 

 chose tbe best places in running the rapids, a good cook, a 

 first-rate shot, as our table frequently testified, and a man 

 not often to be second in reaching the heart of a large hem- 

 lock. In his honor was our wangan named Camp Sanford. 

 Willis was his opposite in many respects— quick, agile, im- 

 pulsive—one of those lucky fellows likely at any time to get 

 into a scrape, yet always coming out right side up; qnick to 

 learn, willing to work and worth his price any day for the 

 fun he would make, always good-natured, looking on the 

 bright side and not often caught napping. His hearty "Well 

 boy 8, this is a pretty good day for eatin'," as he held up a 

 good string of trout, the result of a morning's catch ; or 

 passed his plate for the fourth time to be helped to griddle 

 cakes, will be long remembered. The pleasure he took in look- 

 in g over our fly-books and the readiness with which he learned 

 the names of our flies until he knew by heart the professor, 

 silver doctor, toodle bug, etc., drew forth from him before 

 our nip was ended, the characteristic remark, "Well now, 

 boys, I'll bet a dollar that I know the names of more flies 

 than any man in Maine, north of Oldtown." 



We were fortunate in our weather, having no rain of con- 

 sequence; the .days warm and sunny, and the nights cool, 

 but made briaht and beautiful by the light of the harvest 

 moon. Our table was well supplied with the good things 

 carried from Boston, supplemented by the trout and part- 

 ridges we were successful in bagging. On one occasion 

 when taking a long paddle on the lake, we landed upon a 

 small island completely covered with huckleberry bushe9, 

 hanging full with the large and luscious fruit. At this we 

 were surprised, it then being later than the middle of Sep- 

 tember. Wild cranberries, too, were found, but in such 

 con-Jition that our store of BUgar was largely reduced to make 

 them palatable. 



Our neighbors were few and far between, one or two 

 camps, perhaps, besides our own on this lake twelve miles 

 in length, and occasionally we saw a canoe or heard a rifle 

 shot echoing among the hills. We were isolated from the 

 world, and not a paper or a letter could reach us; and not 

 until ten days after all bets on the Puritan-Genesta race had 

 been paid did we learn of the result. It came to us from a 

 party of Boston gentlemen, whom we met just at dusk one 

 evening an their wav to camp, and our first question was, 

 "Who beat in the race?" The answer came back, "The 

 Puritan, by thirty seconds." And then on that lonely lake 

 in the wilds of Maine, three hearty cheers were given for the 

 Boston boat. 



In fishing, we had the traditional fisherman s luck. On 

 some days whipping the streams patiently for hours without 

 a rise, and again rewarded by seeing tbe trout leap from the 

 water for the favorite fly, and our rods bend almost to the 

 double in his efforts to escape. We caught enough, how- 

 ever, for the full supply of our table, and as we are among 

 those who know when they have had enough, we were con- 

 tent. To us the evenings round the camp-fire are one of the 

 pleasantest episodes of open-air life. What more delightful, 

 afier a hard day's work, than to lounge around the fire, and 

 watch the flames creep in and out among the logs, the crack- 

 ling of the sticks and the sparks as they fly upward driven 

 by the wind? Whut more picturesque than to go a short 

 distance into the deep forest and look down upon the camp, 

 brilliantly lighted by the huge fire leaping len feet into air, 

 and all around the quiet stillness of the forest, and not a 

 sound save the hooting of an owl or the laughing of a loon 

 away out on the lake? These are the times when the cup of 

 happiness seems full to overflowing, when the cares of busi- 

 ness or tbe quotations of the stock room cease to interest. 



Thus the days passed, so full that the daylight was not 

 long enough tor all we wished to do, but each surely bring- 

 ing us to the hour when we must break Gamp. It came 

 at length. After striking camp and loading the canoes 

 we started on our run of over sixty miles down the river. 

 This took three days. At limes our course lay through dead 

 water, the Tiver winding in and out through the forest ; at 

 times we ran the rapids, when it required all our skill and 

 exertion to keep the birch from upsetting, and from being 

 dashed against the rocks; again through broad intervales, as 

 we drew'nearer civilization, and the occasional farm bouse 

 on tbe river bank showed all too plainly, that our vacation 

 trip tor '85 was nearing its end. At last the town of Passa- 

 dumkeag came into vie w, we paddled to the shore by the 

 railroad bridge, exchanged our camp suits for those more 

 presentnble, shook hands with our guides, and soon were on 

 the train for Boston. . 



Wby is it that so few ladies go with their husbands and 

 brothers to the woods? Why should they not join in the 

 ph asures of camp life and gain the benefit to health which 

 comes with the complete change and life in the ©pen air? In 

 our judgment, if one is well provided with a suitable outfit, 

 and pays a due regard to the laws of health, the risk from 

 exposure is-reduced to a minimum, and we venture the pre- 

 diction that with tbe increased interest which is now taken 

 in out-of-door sports, the time is not far distant when it will 

 be a common event for ladies to join in the pleasures to be 

 found in the forest and stream. E. S. 



Broobxihe, Mass. , 



Landlocked Salmon, Sebago Lake. —Bill Hodgkins, 

 the well-known guide, reports visiting the fishing grounds 

 in Sebago Lake May 31, and boating three salmon, a total 

 weight of 30 pounds. Tbe Portland Transcript of June 16 

 reports: ' Friday, two Portland gentlemen fishing at the 

 outlet of Sebago Lake caught four salmon and a dozen 

 speckled trout." Lavt summer several salmon (L L ) were 

 taken in tbe Presump^-cot River on flies. Brown hackle for 

 artificial, and "mill fly" for natural, proved the most ag- 

 gravating. With the increase of fish itlooks as if our salmon 

 season would not long be restricted to the first two or three 

 weeks after the ice leaves the lakes.— Black Spot. 



LAKE MELISSA. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Who says fish? I do, and hundreds of them. Black bass, 

 wall eyed pike and gigantic pickerel. A party of us, seven 

 ambitious, embryo fishermen, are camped here, under the 

 shade of the graceful basswood. 



Commodiously housed in a good wall tent, we can bid 

 defiance to diurnal storms, and regale ourselve the while in 

 the friendly "seven up" or "raise you one;" when we are 

 notyanking the sportive fish from their aqueous element. 



We came here from Castleton, D. T., filled with wild ex- 

 pectations of voluminous prey, and our wishes have been 

 more than realized, for to say that this is the "paradise of 

 piseators" is drawing it mild. 



On our arrival here, after the "stake-out" and a hearty 

 dinner, our first thought and action was to capture minnows 

 for our bait, and finding them plenty in one of the small 

 connecting streams between the lake and another (Lake 

 Sally), we soon netted a good complement and essayed our 

 victims. Hardly had a line been cast, when "first blood" is 

 heard from one boat and quickly followed by the cry "it is 

 a bass." and such fun. Tbe supple rod bends to the sudden 

 strain, and with anxious eyes all watch the combat Hurrah! 

 he's landed, and a beauty he is. In quick succession the 

 other rods have their own duty to perform, and ere long 

 all the other boats are well stocked with prime fish of various 

 kinds. 



A friendly dispute begins between two occupants of dif- 

 serent boats, and high in air is held aloft an eight-pound 

 pickerel. "Show a better if you can," yells its excited cap- 

 tor, and up goes its counterpart. I believe it was decided 

 that they were twins. 



We have been here three days, and each a repetition of the 

 other. Uninterrupted success, and we can tally two hun- 

 dred and fifty as fine fish as ever graced a table. 



The accommodations for visitors and sportsmen at Detroit 

 are unexceptionable, and at the boat house near the village 

 is a nice assortment of boats for hire. Be cautious whom 

 you employ as boatmen, and select those who have a reputa- 

 tion for a close mouth and can live on good plain food and 

 drink, without resorting to fire water. A. T. Bond. 

 Detroit, Minn., June 17, 



GAMPS OF THE KINGFISHERS. 



CARP LAKE, MICH. — XVII. 



AFTER the first feeling of discomfiture had passed off 

 we joked and laughed— not "voriferously," however 

 —at our forget fulness in leaving our trolling gear in camp, 

 and rowed carelessly along, not caring much whether the 

 fish preferred a glittering sham to the toothsome flesh of a 

 speckled frog or not, for to catch fish is not quite all the good 

 there is to be found in going a-flshing. 



Dan had "set" his rod between one of the rails supporting 

 the thwart and the side of the boat, and was contentedly 

 puffing at his pipe as he sat facing the bow, when, as we 

 drew near the sunken reef, "whiz, bi z-z," went the click of 

 his reel with a burst of music that fairly took our breath, and 

 as the old pelican swung his half paralyzed old right leg over 

 the seat, following it with the good left one, so as to face the 

 way the line was running and grabbed the rod, I stopped 

 the boat and gave her sternway, looking then to see a great 

 fight, for no common fish would raise a commotion like that. 



But for the first time in all our varied experience of many 

 years together, the old veteran of many hard fought battles 

 iost his head, and actually forgot what he was doing or how 

 to do it. He forgot to hook his neck-strap in tbe screw eye 

 in the rod, which would have given him a chance to handle 

 the reel with his one good hand; he forgot to let the line run 

 while he took time to do this "hooking up" -without which 

 he can't handle a fi3h at all of any size— and just held on to 

 the rod like grim death, grasping the reel in such a way that 

 it couldn't turn till the fish, which was pulling like a horse, 

 came so very near taking him over the stern of the boat, that I 

 dropped the oars to reach for him and prevent a catastrophe, 

 in the shape of a good sousing in the lake. 



A great surge of the fish, which now had the rod pulled 

 down straight with the tightened line (a new F. braided linen) 

 however, saved Dan a ducking and me the pleasure of fish- 

 ing him out. 



As I got up to step aft and get hold of him and take the 

 rod from his hand, it flew back over his head, and the sudden 

 release of the mighty strain "disturbed his eqnibilerum," as 

 old Dick expresses it, and he tumbled backward off the seat, 

 flat on his back, in the bottom of the boat. (A fact.) 



With the "skipper" it was either laugh or "bust," and I 

 let off a quiet, very circumspect, and decorous chuckle as I 

 picked the old pelican up and replaced him on the seat, a 

 feat requiring not much of an effort, as he only weighs in the 

 neighborhood of ninety -eight pounds. 



I handed him his rod, which I had caught and laid for- 

 ward when he took the tumble, and as he recovered his pipe 

 from the bottom of the boat, he said in his quiet way, but 

 with a "can't-do-the-case-justice" sort of a look in his old 

 eyes "Hickory, nothin' makes me so mad as that," but 

 w nether this referred to the chuckle that was still "a agr- 

 tatin' o' my frame," the tumble, or the loss of the fish, 1 

 have never had the hardihood since to try to find out. 



The line was reeled up to find the hook, a big, strong, 

 No 17 salmon trout, broken off below the barb, and the 

 sudden ending of the fight and Dan's defeat was accounted 



We were satisfied it was a "scrouger," but whether pick- 

 erel bass or maskalonge we were unable to make out; bass 

 from the "hustle" be developed, but then we "almost always 

 invariably" as old Dick figures it, lose our biggest fish. 

 Tbe old flshhawk owned up squarely that he had lost bis 

 head and was so bewildered by tbe sudden dash of the fish 

 that be never once thought what a reel was made for, but it 

 was too late now to hunt up excuses for his temporary lack 

 o ! sense, and he was only glad that I was cheated of the 

 pleasure of fishing him out of the lake. 



A new hook was tied on and baited with the choicest frog 

 in the buckets, and we pulled along the upper side of the 

 reef out to deep water where a turn was made up lake to 

 make a circuit of a hundred yards or so and come back over 

 the same water where the calamity had overtaken us. As 

 we neared the reef again I struck a fish, which, if not quite 

 so big as the one Dan bad lost, was strong enough to break 

 loose after a short, fierce struggle, and then the old pelican 

 just sat there and chuckled himself into a mild "conDiption. 



We fished around in the vicinity over ten acres of water 

 for half an hour longer without another strike. It was 

 clearly our unlucky day; we could not catch fish even when 

 they were in the humor to be caught, and we headed for 

 camp, trusting that another day would bring better luck, 



At Alexander's Point we crossed over to fish past the point, 

 near the mouth of Maybert's Creek, for we did not like to go 

 in without a scale; but here too our unlucky streak followed 

 us, and we pulled down to the point at the old log road and 

 across to camp in the gloaming of the evening without once 

 having had occasion to use our stringers. 



Here another backset awaited us. Old Ben met us at the 

 landing with the information that "old Knots had skipped 

 the ranch an' gone down to 'Coetereye's to stay all night an' 

 hev an early start in the mornin' fur the down boat at Sut- 

 ton's Bay." i 



It was clearly a case of too many girls for his peace of 

 mind, or a sudden drought in the matter of "festivities," the 

 latter most liliely the moving cause, for old Ben said, "the 

 ole feller looked mighty nigh fagged out, an' I reckon he's 

 gone down to look over ole 'Cootereye's cellar an' hist in a 

 'rejuvenater' er two." 



We saw no more of him till we got home, but our good 

 wishes went with him, and we missed him too, for a belter 

 comrade never "fit muskeeters or rassled with a sogsry flap- 

 jack" in a fisher's camp thaa old Knots. Kingfisher. 



DESTRUCTION OF WEAKFISH. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I learn that one of the crew employed on one of the numer- 

 ous steam fishing vessels engaged in so called mossbunker 

 fishing in the waters adjacent to our harbor, casually related 

 to a crowd of open-mouthed admirers the facts of a big catch 

 they had met with within the past ten days, just outside 

 Sandy Hook Point. They surrounded with their murderous 

 mrse net an immense school of weakfish, on which tbiy were 

 Dusily employed the greater part of twenty-four hours trans- 

 ferring to their tenders or sailing vessels and the result of 

 their labors must have been over 200 tons of fish. After 

 taking their fish to New York they found that there was no 

 sale for such a quantity, and after disposing of what were in 

 the best condition, tbe balance were taken to the fish factor- 

 ies to be converted into fertilizer. 



Such ruthless destruction of our food fishes is the cause of 

 the scarcity we hear so universally complained of as existing 

 in our waters. It is a crying shame that such work is going 

 on, day in and day out, and a disgrace that a stop cannot be 

 put upon such operations. The fish, when caught in such 

 numbers, roughly handled and thrown in great bulk together, 

 soon become soft and unfit for food. This is particularly so 

 with weakfisb, which at this season of the year are coming 

 on our coast full of spawn. To destroy them in vast num- 

 bers, as evidenced by this relation, is only to help on the 

 gradual extinction of the species which has grown each 

 year more apparent to those who, when time and opportun- 

 ity serve, are happy to drop a line in waters where in years 

 gone by glorious fun and success awaited them, but now, 

 alas, the memories of departed days are too often the only 

 reward for their endeavors. 



We hope the time will soon come when the attention of 

 our legislators will be given to means to prevent this whole- 

 sale destruction. If not given we must make up our minds 

 that angling with rod and reel in New York harbor will be 

 a joy of the past. 



An Angler for over 35 Years in New York Harbor. 



MURDERING BABY TROUT, 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Your old-time correspondent "Piseco" and I are here m 

 the wilds of Hamilton county, N Y., fishing the east branch 

 of the West Canada Creek and Wilmurt L ike in a miserable 

 easterly storm which has now, June 25, lasted three days 

 without the slightest indication of ever stopping. I have 

 neither time nor inclination to tell vou of our mighty deeds 

 nor how I yelled to "Piseco" to "give him line" and bis 

 reply of "not a blessed inch," but 1 do want to make a re- 

 mark or two on the subject of killing baby trout, and if you 

 think that this is of more interest than a recital of our sport 

 and of the big ones lost then I will defer the latter until I 

 can substitute paper for birch bark. 



A°-e is said to bring wisdom, and this trip has opened my 

 eves to an evil of long standing, which I have read about 

 but never before realized. The laws of New York have for 

 some years forbidden the killing of brook trout under six 

 inches in length, and. as your attentive readers know, this 

 clause was omitted for some reason in the amended act of 

 last winter. I have read the various adverse ciiucisms on 

 this omission which have appeared in your columns, but 

 have been totally iudifferent to the six-inch law. To me it 

 appeared like legislating that a man may not marrv his 

 erandmother; in other words, it forbid a wrong act which 

 few would ever commit. My fishing experience coveis 

 several years, a few States and Territories, and two conti- 

 nents yet never did I see a man kill fingerlings, and hope 

 that 1 never shall. I have heard men talK of it and praise 

 the table qualities of three-inch trout, but thought it an 

 abnormal taste, and therefore an uncommon one. On such, 

 occasions I have answered in a tone of levity that the 

 babies would be be-t served as an omelet, but conversation 

 with men on this trip has shown me that the killing of baby 

 trout is, in this region at least, a crying sin. It is a sin toward 

 which I never have been tempted and am not inclined, after 

 havine learned how to do it. Law or no law, I haye put 

 back all trout under six inches, without thinking that it was 

 a sacrifice for the general good, but in the same spirit in 

 which I would release a swallow accidentally taken as the fly 

 was in the air, or a bit of useless weed hooked As a member 

 of the Ichthyophagous Club, which eats everything that comes 

 from the wlter, whe.her lizard, fi«h or snail. I would have 

 been insulted to have a platter of si x-t neb baby trout set 

 before me. Heretofore I have thought this baby murder 

 to be an occasional crime, but am amazed at its extent in the 

 southern Adirondacks. I knew a man in Wisconsin who 

 was said to do this thing and he was pointed out by a tnend 

 as a man to avoid and I looked at him as a being who was 



CU BTorJg d ivmg V any instances I wish to say As an angler 1 

 am favored with many kind invitations to fish in waters of 

 dubs and of private persons. As a fishcultunst m charge of 

 one of thestaUons of the New York Fish Commission, many 

 applications for trout fry come in the mail from strangers 

 Now should any of these baby killers have an idea of ask ng 

 me to fish with them or to stock their ponds, I beg that they 

 will save their postage. I despise and loathe their practices 

 and do not wish for their acquaintance. 



A gentleman of Little Falls, in whom we can trust says 

 that he spent some days this month at Griff Evap s s , at the 

 junction of the east and west branches of he West Canada 

 Creek, some four or five miles west of Moorehousville, in 

 Hamilton county, N. Y., and that men there practiced baby 



