Aug. 10, 1895. j 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



121 



of the water, but are looking forward daily to naaking 

 good catches. Messrs. Otterback and Schneider were up 

 Wednesday, July 31, and caught eleven. Messrs. Coburn 

 and Einstein anticipate a good outing this week. 



Some very good reports come from forty miles up 

 stream about Point of Rocks and Tuscarora. At the lat- ' 

 ter place Messrs. George Barr and P. T. Hall caught 

 eighty-five bass this present week. B. A. Bean. 



Washington, D. C, Aug. 2. 



A SUMMER OUTING. 



Opelutjsas, Louisiana. — The city man who delights in 

 outdoor sports pines, when summer comes, for a vacation 

 —a needed rest from business ties. So it is with the man 

 in the country. 



Last summer, being in ill health, I determined to spend a 

 week or more on the banks of a clear, placid stream, fifty 

 miles west of here. A party, consisting of four besides 

 the writer, made all arrangements for the trip, and one 

 damp Sunday evening — the 13th of August — we left the 

 familiar scenes of home and town, and journeyed toward 

 the setting sun. 



That evening we drove seventeen miles, and spent the 

 night at the home of Mr. T. C, Cbachere. Before day the 

 next morning we had coffee and prepared to leave. Our 

 route then turned northwest until we struck the Chataig- 

 nier road, which led us soon to Bayou de Canne, which 

 bayou is skirted by a forest. After emerging from this 

 woods we entered Mammou prairie. A description of this 

 prairie would not be amiss. 



Mammou is a prairie, about thirty-five or forty miles in 

 length, and from twelve to fifteen in width. It runs 

 north and south, sloping on the east toward Bayou de 

 Canne and on the west to Bayou Nez Pique. This prairie 

 is an immense track of land, dotted here and there by the 

 homes of the native creole population, who of late years 

 make a living by the production of rice and raising cattle 

 and ponies. In the last few years, however, many people 

 from the North and West have settled here and plant rice. 

 The homes of these Northerners and Westerners can 

 easily be distinguished from those of the natives, for the 

 homes of the two first always consist of two stories and 

 the stable or barn is usually larger than the dwelling, 

 whereas the Creoles' houses are most always one-story 

 buildings and only small stables are to be seen. This 

 prairie was once the home of thousands of prairie chickens 

 (pinnated grouse), but when people began to settle there 

 the birds were all killed off. 



But to proceed with the narrative of our trip. "We ar- 

 rived at Bayou Nez Pique at about 13 o'clock. After 

 crossing the bayou we were in Calcasieu Parish, and near 

 a small store. Here we stopped to rest our horses and 

 refresh the inner man. We were at this place about two 

 hours and then left, as we wished to reach Oberlin (a 

 new town on a new railroad). Here we were in a town 

 without hotel accommodations and not a place where we 

 could reBt our tired bones, except on the cold, wet 

 ground. I strenuously objected to this, for I had been 

 sick all the summer and was still feeling bad. But the 

 Messrs. Clements, rice buyers, came to our relief and of- 

 fered us the use of their bachelor quarters, they being at 

 their summer camp on the Calcasieu River. We of 

 course accepted their kind offer and proceeded to the 

 house. 



In the morning we left in the rain and proceeded to the 

 Calcasieu River, which was three miles away. The rain 

 continued to fall, and when we arrived at the old camp 

 things, or prospects, looked gloomy enough. It had been 

 raining for over a week, and the other party camped 

 there were disgusted, as the river was too high for fish- 

 ing. Our arrival caused a change in the weather, for 

 that night the wind set in the right quarter, and when 

 morning dawned the sky was clear and the river fell 

 rapidly. 



I have omitted the names of those in our party, and it 

 would be best to mention them now before I get so 

 tangled up that it would be too late. Joe G. was the 

 champion fisherman and cook of the party; his brother, 

 Lee G., the champion lazy man; Pel F., the boss grumbler; 

 Jack C, the undaunted braggart, and the writer — well, it 

 will not do for a man to give himself a bad name. 



As I have previously said, the river began to fall 

 rapidly, and Joe G. began to get nervous with equal 

 rapidity. We did not know what was the matter with 

 him, for he acted like an escaped lunatic. Finally our 

 suspense was ended. Joe announced that he was going 

 fishing. We laughed at him, for we thought that the 

 river was too high; but Joe knew better, for according to 

 his own words he had not been fishing all these years for 

 nothing— he had learned that catfish bite in high water. 



So Joe, attired in a pair of jeans pants, a check shirt and 

 a wide-brimmed hat, sallied forth, armed with several 

 hand lines and tempting bait to haul out a fish. Joe is 

 always lucky, and he did not fish in vain. We had fish 

 for supper that night. Joe caught it, cleaned it and 

 cooked it, and we acted as spectators to the cooking, and 

 when it was completed we helped to eat it. I am afraid 

 we did such things the most of the time. 



Occasionally we would go hunting, but excepting a few 

 squirrels and doves there was little to hunt. 



One day a man who worked near our camp went to 

 Oberlin. On his way back he saw three deer in the 

 woods, a short distance from us. The law protecting 

 deer was in force, but Joe and myself determined to go 

 out and see if we could not get a shot, even if the conse- 

 quences might be bad for us. We struck out for the 

 woods, armed with Winchester repeating rifles. Ar riving 

 at a thickety slough, we agreed to separate, Joe taking 

 the east side and myself the west, and to bunt north. 

 "We proceeded in this way for a half mile when Joe called 

 me, and on crossing over to his side he informed me that 

 he had seen a small doe get up out of the thicket about 

 800yds. away and run toward the north. We hunted for 

 her trail, but failed to find it, and were compelled to 

 return to camp with the conviction that we had not 

 broken the law. 



A short time after this Pel and Jack went out in these 

 same woods to kill squirrels. They were almost in gun- 

 shot of several dwellings and did not expect to find large 

 game. I was at camp, lying down in a hammock, and I 

 heard them shoot three times. I paid no attention to it. 

 In a few minutes they came running into camp puffing 

 like two porpoises. I inquired of them the reason of their 

 haste, but they were too nervous and excited to reply 

 immediately. Finally they managed to tell me that they 

 had jumped a deer in the woods and shot at it about 



70yds. with No. 7 shot, and said they had hit it "very 

 badly." 



Day after day passed and our food as well as money 

 was getting low, and we concluded to return home. We 

 concluded, however, to have one more fishing, and that 

 one must be taken on Ten Mile Creek, a tributary of the 

 Calcasieu. 



So the day before we left for home saw us up and stir- 

 ring at 4 A. M. We intended going in a large hack, and 

 to get across the river we had to strip off, lead the horses 

 and then haul the hack across. The river was still pretty 

 deep, and the ford where we crossed was up to my shoul- 

 ders, and I am 5ft. 10A in. The current was strong and it 

 almost swept us off our feet, but we managed to get across 

 without any mishaps. Then we traveled ten miles and 

 found ourselves on the banks of the most beautiful stream 

 we had ever seen. Ten Mile Creek is not over 40ft. wide 

 in its widest places, and its depth varies from 1 to 14ft. 

 The banks and bed of the creek are composed of pure 

 white sand, and the water is so clear that you can easily 

 see the bottom in 14ft. of water. I am told that the purity 

 of the water is wonderful — a goblet full having been left 

 standing for twenty -four hours, and at the end of that 

 time there was no sediment at the bottom of the vessel. 



We fished with minnows as bait, and the black bass bit 

 well. At 1 o'clock we had caught about sixty, besides 

 several perch, cats, and one caspergou. A rough road, 

 ten miles long, lay between us and camp, and we wisely 

 concluded to leave, for we did not care to ford the Cal- 

 casieu in the night. 



I left Ten Mile with regret, for, having always been a 

 lover of nature, I found new beauties on which to feast 

 my eyes. There silence reigned supreme; there nature's 

 handiwork lay in all its grandeur. I sighed, as I often 

 have done, those lines of Cowper's: 



"Oh, for a lodge in some vast wilderness, 

 Some boundless contiguity of shade. " 



But all pleasures have an end, so we left this peaceful 

 spot where rippling waters make music for the silent 

 hills, and returned to the bustle and noise of camp. 



That night was the last of our trip. The next morning 

 we prepared so as to leave about 4 P. M. Everyone had 

 clothes to wash, lines to take in, horses to feed, etc., and 

 when 4 P. M. came we had just completed our work, and 

 were ready to bid farewell to Calcasieu and return to 

 home and to work. 



We traveled seventeen miles and camped. By 2 P. M. 

 the next day we were at home once more. Each and 

 every one of us felt healthier in body and mind, especially 

 myself. I left home sick, and began to improve at once. 

 I have not had a sick day since then. 



I am a poor writer, and have described but few of the 

 pleasures we had on our trip. Every man who loves 

 nature, and delights in hunting and fishing, can easily 

 picture to himself the delights we experienced on our 

 summer outing. T. Anderson Jackson. 



NEW ENGLAND WATERS. 



Boston, Aug. 2.— Mr. L. A. Aspinwell is just in from 

 his vacation on the coast of Rhode Island. Scup fishing 

 he has found to be excellent, having landed 135 in three 

 hours' fishing on one trip and over sixty at another trip. 

 Mrs. Aspinwell took fifty scup at one trip. They describe 

 the fishing as rare sport, but their faces are as brown as 

 one can well imagine. At the mouth of Warren River 

 they had fair sport with tautog, getting some fine fish. 

 Bluefish they found to be scarce in that vicinity, but in 

 the neighborhood of Block Island and Vineyard Sound 

 they learned of several good catches. 



Friends of Mr. Henry W. Dodd, who is very popular in 

 the stock market, have been congratulating him on the 

 capture of a 62£lb. codfish, which fell to his hook some- 

 where between Saturday and Monday last and was safely 

 landed. Mr. Dodd's office is at No. 40 Water street, and 

 on Monday an acquaintance wrote: "My Dear Mr. Dodd, 

 that cod knew there was no water on the Montana line, 

 but he read somewhere '40 water' and so the Old Harry 

 caught him." 



After all the trouble in getting started the party for 

 Loud Camp, Bonny River, New Brunswick, will leave 

 Boston this week for that point. The party is made up 

 of Mr. and Mrs. E. Waldo Page, Mrs. S. C. Loud, Miss G. 

 C. Loud and Mr. A. I. McLauthlin. This is Mr. McLauth- 

 lin's first trip to the New Brunswick trout waters and he 

 is anticipating a great deal of pleasure. Others who 

 have been there before have put matters in such a light 

 that a much-earned vacation is likely to be a happy one. 

 The trout fishing is reported to be excellent. 



More reports of good salmon fishing are in order. Mr. 

 Ed. R. Wharton, of Newpo.rt, with a friend, has fished the 

 Upper Restigouche preserve of Mr. Archibald Rogers, of 

 New York, with the splendid catch of seventy -four salmon 

 and nine grilse in twelve days. This is declared by salmon 

 fishermen to be something like the catches of former days 

 in that celebrated river. My informant understands Mr. 

 Wharton's preserve to be above that of the Restigouche 

 Club. 



Mr. Charles B. Barnes has fished the Grand Cascapedia 

 this season and made a catch of twenty-two salmon. 



Mr. Charles A. Clarke is at home from his spring fish- 

 ing trip. This trip means more to Mr. Clarke than to most 

 men. In the first place, he takes about five weeks every 

 season, adding more of success to the catches of many 

 years. Starting for the Rangeleys soon after the ice went 

 out, he tried the fishing there with good success. Then he 

 went to the upper waters of the Rangeley system, finally 

 bringing up at King and Bartlett, where he went down the 

 Spencer. He regards this as the ideal spot for big game. 

 Personally, he saw deer till he thought it a task to take 

 pains to look at them. He saw a big moose in the neigh- 

 borhood of Flagstaff, where he stopped on his way home. 

 He mentions another gentleman, who was at the Big 

 Spencer region at the time he was there, who, with his 

 guide, saw thirty deer in one day. Mr. Clarke asked 

 them if they would not make it twenty-nine, and they 

 allowed that they would, but would not "take off another 

 deer — not even a half one, and make it twenty-eight and 

 one-half." 



There are few men that have fished for more years than 

 Mr. Clarke, and few that are always working for the new 

 and novel more. This time he satisfied himself that pick- 

 erel can be taken on the fly, and with a good deal of sport. 

 At Flagstaff Pond he landed twelve pickerel in one day, 

 and every one on the fly. He mentions working hard to 

 complete his dozen; but he was bound to accomplish that 



feat, and he did it. He used the scarlet-ibis, and describes 

 the catching of the pickerel as good sport. 



Mr. N. G. Manson, with his friend, Ezra P. Howlett, is 

 out from Camp Leatherstocking, Lake Molechunkamunk. 

 He describes the trip as a delightful one, though they did 

 but little fishing. On the way out from the South Arm 

 they were just behind a cow moose and two calves, which 

 they had the pleasure of seeing, though only a glimpse 

 was caught. The deer are more plenty than ever, in the 

 opinion of everybody Mr. Manson talked with. 



Mr. J. Parker Whitney made a flying trip to New York 

 last week, stopping in Boston. He is spending the sum- 

 mer at his Mosquito Brook camps, Lake Molechunka- 

 munk. He mentions the surroundings of that region as 

 more beautiful than ever. For one season at least the 

 lake is being kept full of water by the Union Water 

 Power Co., and the shores are rapidly improving. 



Aug. 8— Mr. John Fottler, Jr., is back from the St. 

 John's at Gaspe, P. Q., where he and Mr. I. W. Adams 

 own what would seem to be a most excellent salmon 

 right. Mr. Fottler was accompanied by his wife and 

 children, as usual. For his guests he had Mr. Arthur Bar- 

 ney and wife. Mr. Adams's guests were Mr. Henry 

 Sampson, of New York, and Mr. Barbour, also of New 

 York, and well known in the manufacture of thread. 

 When Mr. Adams left the river, which he was obliged to - 

 do earlier than he wished, Judge Gray, of the Supreme 

 Court, with his most estimable wife, came in. Mrs. Gray 

 did that which few ladies have ever done. She hooked 

 and killed a big salmon without aid. The Judge also took 

 a number of fine fish. Mrs. Barney killed a salmon that 

 bad been hooked for her, and Mrs. Fottler has several 

 times accomplished this feat. The party bad taken, when 

 Mr. Fottler left the river, upward of 100 salmon and a 

 great many fine trout. But it is a rigid rule of that pre- 

 serve that no fish shall be taken that are not wanted 

 in camp or to send or take to friends. No fish are allowed 

 to be taken to be wasted. Often more fish might have 

 been taken, but they were not needed and so fishing 

 ceased. 



But at times the fishing was dull, owing to the ex- 

 tremely bright weather. For many a day no salmon 

 would rise. At such times the salmon could be seen in 

 the pools— great, noble fish. Mr. Fottler counted a great 

 number that were not taken. He feels sure that over 200 

 salmon are left as breeding fish— a very good stick indeed. 

 Twenty years ago, according to guides and fishermen, if 

 fifty or seventy-five fish could be counted at the close of 

 a season left in the pools, it was thought to be a great 

 many. This shows how the fishing has increased under 

 protection and care. One great advantage this river has. 

 The owners have bought off all the netters below them, 

 and one of the principal netters formerly they have hired 

 as a protector. Mr. Fottler believes that this plan is work- 

 ing most admirably. Since he first went on to the river 

 in 1891 the fishing has more than doubled. He is greatly 

 delighted with their river. He comes back to business 

 having gained in flesh and learned to pole a canoe through 

 the rapids, even where the river falls at the rate of 25 ft. in 

 a mile. But one catastrophe, that came near being a 

 serious one, is set down to the credit of the gentle- 

 men of the party. Fortunately the ladies went around 

 the bend and the terrible eddy below, or were able 

 to pass it in safety. But the canoe in which was Mr. 

 Fottler was upset and drawn under the logs and drift- 

 wood that partly cover the eddy in the bend — drawn 

 under so hard that it took two men a couple of hours to 

 get it out. The men in the canoe were unceremoniously 

 dipped, and they had to cling to the driftwood for life or 

 be drawn under, where went part of their rigging, their 

 fish and some of their clothing. They worked to the 

 shore more dead than alive through the seething water 

 and logs and driftwood. 



Mr. Edwin C. Stevens is back from Lake Dunmore, 

 Salisbury, Vt., and has broken the record for big pick- 

 erel. He brought home a pickerel on Wednesday that 

 weighed 8£lbs. This monster he caught the day before. 

 He was fishing with a- small trout for bait. He has never 

 heard of a bigger pickerel, though the lake. is noted for 

 big ones. The fish was on exhibition at 18 Central street 

 all day the day af ter Mr. Stevens's return and attracted a 

 good deal of attention. Special. 



The World Do Move. 



Toledo, O., July 27 —Editor Forest and Stream: Toledo 

 is a city of something less than 150,000 souls. It is noted 

 as being the second largest railroad center in the United 

 States, and from the fact that the principal occupation of 

 the majority of the adult male inhabitants is fishing. 

 Many of them, it is true, follow other callings enough of 

 the time to provide groceries, shelter and wearing apparel; 

 but if you scratch a banker, a jeweler, a newspaper man, 

 a railroad employe or a grain dealer, ten to one you find 

 a fisherman. Going fishing is a necessary and serious 

 affair, and not to be interfered with by minor matters. 

 Witness the following card, which is taken from the ad- 

 vertising columns of one of the leading newspapers, where 

 it appears in some two inches of bold display type : 



C. L. LEWIS, 

 The Photographer, 



Will be out of the city this week and 

 return Saturday, the 27th. 



GONE FISHING. 



If this is not conclusive evidence that Toledo is an en- 

 terprising, progressive town, freed from the narrow and 

 antiquated traditions of the musty past, where the people 

 know what they want to do and then go and do it— why 

 then, we don't know where enlightened public senti- 

 ment is to be found. "The world do move." 



Jay Beebe, 



! REPORT YOUR LUCK I 



With Rod or Gun 



? To FOREST AND STREAM, 

 | New York City. 



