60 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 20, 1895. 



Adirondack Deer. 



Birch Haven, Blue Mt. Lake, July 6.— Editor Forest 

 and Stream: As a lover of the Adirondacks for many 

 years, I have been much interested in the discussions as 

 to the depletion of deer. My own observation has led me 

 to believe that they are'increasing rather than diminish- 

 ing in numbers, at least in this section, and I have been 

 repeatedly told by reliable men of the starvation of many 

 deer during the severe winters. This week Mr. C. L. 

 Stanton, a thoroughly reliable man and a skillful guide 

 residing here, told me that he knows of the starvation of 

 about 150 deer the past winter in the country stretching 

 from Moose Biver to Bog River. In repeated instances 

 deer were found in the road too weak to leave it, and 

 were taken to stables and an effort was made to feed them 

 and save them, but they were too far gone. 



Mr. Stanton further says that he knows of large areas 

 that were absolutely stripped bare of everything a deer 

 could eat. Other experienced and reliable guides give 

 me similar statements, and say with emphasis, "The deer 

 are increasing." 



I give you these facts as bearing on recent articles, and 

 as indicating the wisdom of the Legislative Committee last 

 winter in consulting the people who live in the Adiron- 

 dacks all the year. J. C. Allen. 



Rains and Nesting Quail. 



West Boint, Miss. , July 5. — It has been raining here 

 for at least three weeks, and some of the rains have been 

 very heavy. I do not know whether they have drowned 

 any of the young quail or not, but I have commented on 

 the fact of my seeing so many pairs of quail together at 

 this time of the year, when one usually sees only the cock 

 birds. 



I walk about over the farm a good deal, and as you 

 know there are any quantity of birds here; so plentiful, 

 in fact, that I go only a few hundred yaTds to flush at 

 half a dozen pairs of quail. 



Their being together as when they are first paired off I 

 do not understand, without attributing it to their nests 

 being drowned out. A quail in making its nest invariably 

 makes a hole in the ground like a guinea fowl's. In this 

 country when it gets very wet the whole surface becomes 

 saturated with water, and all depressions become minia- 

 ture ponds; hence'the quail's nest being in a hole fills with 

 water unless on the side of a hill. W. W. Titus. 



FROM A GIRL'S LETTER. 



Here are some extracts from a letter telling of the 

 experiences of a party of three girls in the Adirondacks. 

 They drove in from Westport by way of Elizabethtown: 



We flew on and reached the cabin about half past ten 

 in the morning. Everything there looked delightful; 

 fresh flowers in the vases and brilliantly colored colum- 

 bine blooming just outside the door, adding not a little to 

 the charm. They have built a cunning little store-room 

 just under the porch steps, and there we found eggs, but- 

 ter, meat, etc. As the butcher only came once a week, 

 and as veal was the only thing he had when he did come, 

 we would have fared badly if we had not brought up 

 some canned things with us. We made up our minds we 

 would dine in the kitchen and have no table-cloth, no 

 saucers to our cups as a matter of course and only one 

 spoon apiece— you know our habits. We reduced the 

 number of dishes which had to be washed very consider- 

 ably, and, as there were only three of us, the washing 

 did not take long. 



In the afternoon we initiated our fishing-poles in Roar- 

 ing Brook. We were fishing with flies, for which the fish 

 will not rise so early in the season, we were afterward in- 

 formed, and met with no success. The next day being 

 Sunday, we went to church like good little girls, and Dr. 

 DuBois being a "fisher of men," caught us instead of our 

 catching anything. That evening Dr. DuBois brought 

 over Verde Beede, a protege of his and a guide, and we 

 arranged then and there to take a thirty mile drive the 

 next day to St. Armands, which is northwest of Lake 

 Placid, in search of the mighty trout, which were de- 

 clared to be particularly plentiful in the streams in that 

 section. Alas! We awoke to hear the gentle patter of 

 the rain and knew that we were doomed for that day at 

 east. We resigned ourselves to the inevitable, provided 

 ourselves with the vulgar worm, and in spite of rain and 

 encased in rubber boots and sweaters went down to the 

 Ausable below the house. This was the scene of our first 

 victory, for Sib caught a beauty about 9in. long, Bessie 

 caught several and I came out at the rear with two small 

 ones. We had trout for supper that night. 



The next morning it was pouring; however, we thought 

 we would not wait any longer, and started off at 2 o'clock, 

 although it was still drizzling. Beede's little boy, a kid 

 of about eight years old, went along with us, and a use- 

 ful little soul he was. He was wild with delight at the 

 dea of going, and held out bravely through a very mos- 

 quitoey night. In order to reach this place, St. Armands, 

 you have to cross a long ridge of Whiteface, over a verv 

 rough road. It cleared off during the afternoon, but was 

 as cold as Greenland toward 5 o'clock, and as Beede did 

 not seem very clear about the road being passable over 

 the mountain, not having been over that year, we con- 

 cluded it was better to stop at Wilmington for the night 

 and push on fresh in the morning. The next day was 

 gloriously clear and brisk, so that we walked most of the 

 way over the mountain, the horses having hard work to 

 pull the wagon up, the road being one series of ruts and 

 rocks and quagmires. We passed the most beautiful 

 clumps of painted trillium and lovely patches of violets, 

 although many of the trees had been very badly bitten 

 by a late frost, so that their foliage hung brown and life- 

 less. Sib was the victim of the first black fly, as* indeed 

 she was of most of those that came after, and while 

 mosquitoes worked their will on Bessie and myself, Sib 

 had the glory and anguish of all the black flies, so much 

 so that at the end of our expedition she looked as though 

 she had had a good case of chicken pox. 



The view from the top of the ridge was superb, taking 

 in Keene Valley, Marcy, Whiteface, the Poke o' Moon- 

 shine range and many others. We stopped by a stream 

 on the way to fish, called Merry Brook, and it was indeed 

 merry. No sooner had I whipped the water than up 

 came a trout, and for a while we were quite busy. St. 



Armands is simply a tract of land, mostly farming and 

 rolling, with one mountain, called Catamount, rising out 

 of the ground like a sentinel, and seeming to be more of 

 a geography book mountain than any I have seen. It is 

 a very moth-eaten looking mound, owing to there being 

 few trees on it. 



We took up our abode in a cabin, close to Lincoln 

 Brook, on some land belonging to Beede. He is a much 

 better guide, companion and friend than our others have 

 been. Nothing is too much trouble for him, and his 

 funds of stories about the woods are endless. We fished 

 up and down the stream, meeting with fair luck, having 

 plenty and more than plenty for every meal. We turned 

 in early, and were very comfortable the first part of the 

 night, but toward morning were devoured by mosquitoes, 

 so we arose with the sun. 



We drove a couple of miles further up the brook that 

 morning, and then separated each to try a different part 

 of the stream, and then literally dove into it, for the trees 

 came so close to the bank it was impossible to fish from 

 the bank. It is most deliciously cool and refreshing to 

 stand in rubber boots in the water, for you get all the 

 sensations of wading without the wetness, unless you go 

 in over them, as happens occasionally, and as Sib did 

 when we were on the Boquet a couple of days later. 



It was the funniest sight I ever saw — she was standing 

 on a very sloping rock, and one moment I saw her and 

 the next I didn't! Nothing but her pole, violently agi- 

 tated, was visible over the top of the rock. I had given 

 her up as lost when her head slowly appeared above the 

 rock and she emerged again, having been in up to her 

 waist! 



To return to Lincoln Brook. We did not start to drive 

 home that day until 2 o'clock. It was an awfully hot 

 day, and we were forced to go very slowly, as Mary, one 

 of the horses, showed signs of a rush of blood to the 

 head, and we did not dare drive her fast. All the even- 

 ing it threatened a thunderstorm, but it did not dampen 

 our spirits. Beede told stories, and we all told stories, 

 rattling along in the gloom. It was half-past ten before 

 ' we reached the cabin. 



Another day we went to the Boquet for all day. I was 

 too lazy to fish and watched the others. We found that 

 our taste for eating them was considerably diminished by 

 the time we had cleaned them, and one mess of about 

 four dozen we left for so long, not being anxious to 

 undertake the task, that in the end we had to throw them 

 away. Bessie and Sib found a place in the Ausable 

 where two great big old grandfather trout dwelt, which 

 must have been from their description somewhere be- 

 tween two and three feet long, and they angled for those 

 grandfathers through rain and shine, but the old gentle- 

 men were too wary for them. We got Beede to drive us 

 out by way of Port Henry for a change, and found 

 ourselves aboard the train bound for home much too 

 soon for our taste. There were lots more places we 

 wanted to go to, and we had just begun to know how to 

 fish. E. L. L. 



BASS AND BOATING ON THE UPPER 

 DELAWARE. 



A stream of crystal clear water, fresh distilled from the 

 sand and rocks and moss of the unsullied mountains, is 

 the Upper Delaware. It is a swift stream, full of foam- 

 ing rapids; but at regular intervals the white water ends 

 and the stream takes a rest, flowing lazily over shingly 

 bottoms nr through deep rock-strewn pools. Here in the 

 amber waters lurk hordes of hungry bass — athletes by 

 training and fighters from the word go. 



Your lake bass are sluggish by comparison and not in 

 the same class with these river warriors. The river fish 

 are light, running from f to l^lbs. ; but weight is not a 

 standard of excellence with fish any more than it is with 

 men. 



Mr. George Dixon, with his hundred odd pounds, is 

 more than a match for a ton of pot-bellied aldermen, and 

 these Delaware small-mouths 6trike in a way to shake 

 your teeth loose. They are up to all the tricks of the 

 game, too, and if they can't shake the hook loose while 

 out of the water, they will go the other way and rub it 

 out on the rocks or foul the line on the bottom of your 

 boat, or get free in some equally not-to-be-prevented 

 way. 



The two main branches of the Delaware rise in the 

 western Catskills, fed by innumerable trout streams, and 

 unite near the northeast corner of Pennsylvania, in Dela- 

 ware county, N. Y. Just below their juncture is a 

 deep foam-flecked pool, perhaps a quarter of a mile long, 

 where we had our first good fishing. We — W, F. P. and 

 myself— had come down the Mohawk Branch from De- 

 posit in an Adirondack boat, but out of eleven bass taken 

 in that stream we had only one good one — a fish weighing 

 a pound and a half. In this first pool below the -juncture 

 of the branches, however, we took two good bass above a 

 pound in weight and lost two more that would average as 

 well, in less than fifteen minutes. From this point down 

 at every reach of still water we took some bass. At 

 Stockport, a little settlement of five or six houses and a 

 sawmill, we caught eight good bass, averaging above a 

 pound apiece: 



At this point there is a cable ferry of the type so com- 

 mon along the river. A short distance below, near the 

 center of the pool and in the deepest water, there rises a 

 little island of rock, and around this and among the sub- 

 merged rocks on the New York side the bass were lurk- 

 ing. We were trolling with phantom minnows, and 

 several times had strikes and hooked fish before we had 

 gotten out 20ft. of line. 



After half a dozen turns on this pool we had lunch and 

 then proceeded on our way down the river. 



Running [the rapids was exciting work. One man in 

 the bow kept.a sharp lookout for rocks and the other in 

 the stern directed the boat's course with a stout ash paddle. 

 Our boat was heavily loaded and the water was low, and 

 as a consequence there was a good deal of wading to be 

 done. At times, however, we ran considerable rapids 

 without wetting our feet. This happened when most of 

 the volume of the river was drawn into narrow compass 

 between steep shores. Where the river spread out over 

 broad rapids it was next to impossible to get through 

 without wading or dragging. 



A short distance below Stockport we shot into a deep 

 still pool, where the river ran lazily along the foot of a 

 precipitous mountain. The scenery was wild and beau- 

 tiful in the extreme; not a house nor a clearing was to be 

 seen, and all the mountains within view were heavily 



wooded from base to summit. The. fragrance of spruce 

 and pine was sweet to the senses, and if added charm 

 were needed it was there in the soothing certainty that 

 our game was present. Hardly bad the deadly phantom 

 touched the water when the rod bent nearly double in 

 response to a vicious strike, and from that instant a bat- 

 tle royal began which only ceased when seventeen bronzed 

 warriors were hors de combat. A native fishing from a 

 rock as large as a small house eyed us with ill-concealed 

 envy. He was using small conger eels for bait, which next 

 to small bull-heads is the Upper Delaware idea of a fetish I 

 for black bass, but he had caught only four. The 

 phantom minnow had the field. It was an ideal day for 

 trolling. A brisk wind raised miniature swells that 

 galloped up stream against the current, and rain squalls 

 occasionally added variety. Bass were on the feed, and 

 though it is more than doubtful if they ever before had 

 seen anything in the minnow line resembling our English 

 importations, they bit at them greedily and did their level 

 best to spoil their beauty. Frequently they broke loose 

 from the cruel deception that gave them a mouthful of 

 hooks instead of a meal, and no doubt such fish as 

 escaped will have a lasting suspicion of high colored 

 minnows with prominent eyes if they chance to see any 

 such in future, and the sight will recall the ghosts of dead 

 brethren, but enough reached our boat to satisfy our bar- 

 barian instincts of sport, and not one of these but gave a 

 whole theatrical performance of the melo-dramatic class. 

 Rearing, leaping, standing on their hind legs and tossing 

 mains of foam; diving, darting, cutting the water and 

 causing the obedient line to hiss and simmer and rip the 

 liquid element, straining the rod to the utmost at one 

 instant, and the next swimming faster than the reel could 

 take up* line preparatory to aerial flight— all this and 

 more too was the performance for which the bass stood 

 treat. 



This "eddy," as such pool is known in Delaware 

 parlance, was half or three-quarters of a mile in length, 

 and after we had gone up and down it three times we 

 concluded to give the bass a rest from their arduous en- ^ 

 tertainment. At succeeding eddies we added to our | 

 catch, and when we went into camp that night on a I 

 shingle beach just below Fordville, we had 37 nice bass. ) 

 In addition we had caught half a dozen shiners and one < 

 pickerel. These shiners are toothsome eating and possess \ 

 many of the qualities of game fish, chief among which 

 may be mentioned courage. They measured from 10 

 to 13in. in length only, and being slender in J 

 build averaged less than a half-pound in weight, | 

 but they tackled phantom minnows half as long 'j 

 as themselves and fought with no little spirit, . 



We had each lost our biggest fish, as was natural. W. 

 F. P. had one alongside the boat that looked 24in. long, j 

 that fouled the line with the keel and so escaped, and 1 1 

 lost a similar fish which got into shallow water andii 

 rubbed the hook loose on the bottom. We thought these j 

 fish would each weigh 31bs. They were hooked in a deep 

 pool opposite an old sawmill that stands in a narrow gorge, 

 almost hidden from sight by the trees and overhanging 

 cliffs. In the middle of this pool is a reef of rocks sheer- i 

 ing off rapidly on both sides to deep water. It was here I 

 that we struck these, our largest fish, and here that we j 

 lost them. 



The next day we went as far as Callicoon, but had no 

 especial luck. It was a still, clear day, and bad for troll-; 

 ing, or, for that matter, any style of fishing. Our trip j 

 netted us fifty-five bass besides about twenty-five other I 

 fish. We had gone along leisurely and not fished for I 

 count or the score would have been larger. 



As a rule the fishing near the railroad stations or towns i 

 is poor. This is a good thing to remember if you go to j 

 the Upper Delaware, It is in the inaccessible pools and 

 Virgin waters where the fish are plenty. 



J. B. Bl RNHAM. 



Forest and Stream Office. 



TROUT LAKES NEAR MONTREAL. 



Newt and I went fishing the other day. We went to' 

 St. Agathe, on the Montreal and Labelle branch of the i 

 Canadian Pacific R. R., sixty-four miles from Montreal, I 

 A special fishing train leaves Dalhousie Station every 

 Saturday during the season at 1:45 P. M., making the run 

 in about three hours, returning on Monday morning, 

 leaving St. Agathe at 7 A. M., reaching Montreal at 10 

 A. M. The return fare is $2. 10, good for this time only. 



We looked up some friends in Montreal to learn some- , 

 thing of the country. Nearly every one named a differ- 

 ent lake as being the best fishing. Finally we struck a 

 party who had been fishing there on May 1, to whom, 

 being a reader of Forest and Stream, I might drop a 

 hint that the season does not open till May 2, which he 

 may paste in his hat for future reference. They fished 

 four lakes in the two days, catching some 175 trout, bring- 

 ing about 351bs. home with them. Following his direc- 

 tions, we duly arrived at St. Agathe. 



We crossed the street to Sauve's hotel, engaging him to 

 drive us out to Mr. Jos. Belisle, at Lac a la Truit, three 

 miles away, 75 cents for the trip. Arriving, we intro- 

 duced ourselves, stating we were after fish, and asking if 1 

 he could accommodate us with lodgings. He seemed to 

 take us for city bloods, and was apologizing for his poor 

 accommodations, when I cut him short by saying that we ' 

 were just common farmers, that as soon as we could get 

 our Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes off we would demon- 

 strate by our old duds that we were not above farmers' 

 fare, our principal object being trout. This seemed to 

 relieve him greatly. We were on familiar terms at once, 

 when he became quite communicative. 



It being then 6 o'clock, we had a glass of milk with a 

 slice of bread, slightly sour, for which the good woman 

 apologized, but when we told her that it was just the kind ' 

 we had at home she seemed relieved, so that we got on 

 famously from that out. 



A boy had in the meantime been digging some worms, 

 and we proceeded to the lake. Our Montreal friend had ' 

 told us that his best fishing there was almost in the guide's 

 door yard, which proved to be the case, At the lake, 

 only a short distance from the house, the boy pulled out 

 about 25ft. , and dropping a stone with a cord attached for 

 an anchor, put worms on our hooks, telling us to cast in 

 anywhere and we would get fish. This was our first' 

 experience in lake fishing, and it did not seem just right 

 to fish for trout as we would for bull pout at home. The 

 boy had a sapling about 7ft. long with" the bark peeled off 

 and painted red, with a large line, which he soon had 

 dangling over the boat, and we took our cue from him. 

 For a time no one had a bite, I was beginning to think 



