188 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 29, 1888. 



A PISCATORIAL ROUND-UP-I. 



THE fishing season of 1886 was to the writer colossal 

 with expectations which were carefully watered, 

 weeded, trimmed and nursed. Some scarcely sprouted; 

 some died a quiet peaceful death before putting out a 

 shoot from the main stem: some thrived and prospered 

 to full leaf only to die a violent death in one night from 

 blight; some bore a little measley, watery fruit, very un- 

 like the seed, neither sweet nor sour, and some grew to 

 magnificent proportions, deep-rooted, sturdy-limbed, rich 

 in foliage and flower, and profuse in glorious, luscious 

 fruit, the taste of which yet remains and will remain for 

 many years to come. 



From the lake trout trolling in May, our first fishing in 

 this Northern latitude. Judge Ranger and I, who together 

 have thumped the bottom of Lake George with heavy 

 sinkers, and scratched its surface without them for 

 nearly a score of fishing seasons, expected a rich return to 

 repay us for the previous season when the fishing was so 

 very, very bad that it was horrid; but after reporting for 

 duty early in the morning of the first day of the open 

 season, we found the trout coy and hard to please, 

 although one 91b. fish, which was hooked foul, made me 

 think for a time that it would go into the teens when 

 placed in the scales. 



In June I expected a generous yield from some stream 

 fishing for brook trout in Vermont, and although I found 

 the Ondawa as "lovely" as ever, it was not as liberal in 

 giving up its inhabitants as it had been in former years. 

 My journal records that late in June I got one thing that 

 I did not expect, and which certainly was not promised, 

 that one thing being a well conditioned trout of li-lbs., 

 which I caueht in a New York stream that has been 

 fished threadbare. I was promptly on hand' and on the 

 water when the black bass season opened in Brant Lake, 

 but the fishing was not what I have known in that lake. 

 Long Pond (Glen Lake\ once the home of monster black 

 bass — and it may be yet in spite of the fact that it would 

 be difficult to prove it by the writer — was not very kind 

 when visited on several occasions. Various other trout 

 streams and black bass waters proved fairly generous or 

 very fickle until the latter part of August came, when 

 Judge Ranger and I embarked on our great exploration 

 for a lake said to contain gigantic black bass, and which 

 was concealed in some very high, very steep, a,nd very 

 rough mountains. We found the beautiful forest-en- 

 circled lake, which proved to be little better than a mud 

 bole; we found some black bass which were positively 

 not on speaking terms with the bass of which we went 

 in search, and we and our men are above ground at the 

 present writing in a more or less broken-up condition at 

 the thought of that trip. The particulars of that explor- 

 ing trip can never be written as a side show, they entitle 

 it to a separate chapter which may be written some time. 



My fishing partner, Mr. "Win. D. Cleveland, of Houston, 

 Texas, had been detained at home during the summer by 

 the absence of his business partner in Europe, but we had 

 paid regular and persistent tribute to the Government 

 through the P. O Department, and by the middle of 

 August it was supposed to be settled that he could arrive 

 at the North early in September. For five years in suc- 

 cession we had spent nearly three months of each fishing 

 season together at some resort or other, but had confined 

 our fishing largely to black bass during the hot months, 

 and when we found that we could not meet until late in 

 1886 we had decided that we would devote as much as 

 possible of September to speckled trout fishing. 



Maine was the place of our choice and 1 had made all 

 arrangements possible, albeit they were somewhat con : 

 ditional. for going to Parmachenee Lake. Then occurred 

 delay after delay; in Europe, on the ocean, in Texas, and 

 the days of September were being used up before they 

 arrived by events which cast their shadows before. 

 From Parmachenee we came down in our expectations, 

 through the kindly offices of Commissioner Stilwell, to 

 Weld Pond, as being nearer at hand and more quickly 

 reached; for we began to count the days to come before 

 October 1 as something precious. When I found that 

 there would be but a bare week between C.'s arrival and 

 the close season for trout, I made a cast with a letter up 

 into the Laurentian Mountains of Canada and concluded 

 we could there get two or three days of fishing. 



About this time Mr. Cleveland wrote: ''Book me for 

 any top you like, but I hope we will be able to get at least 

 one good day with the trout." It was a decided shrink- 

 ing, from one month to one day's fishing. While I was 

 trying to revise the calendar, the fish laws and the dis- 

 tance, in time between States, I received a letter from Mr. 

 W. W. Byington, secretary of the Eastern New York 

 Association, which read: "If you will be in Clayton the 

 20th or 21:4, I will meet you there, and we will go on my 

 yacht to some special places where large black bass do 

 most abound. My plan will be to send the yacht to King- 

 ston, Ont., in advance, to have a few repairs made, and 

 we will join her there by line steamer from Clayton. We 

 can go up the Bay of Quinte for black bass and take in 

 Hay Bay for mascalonge. The most I wish to know now 

 is, what day you will meet me in Clayton." In my reply 

 I told him of my contemplated trip with Mr. Cleveland, 

 and in another letter he said he would wait until C.'s 

 arrival before starting, and added a picture of what we 

 might expect in the way of black-bass fishing that made 

 me think a brook trout was not much of a fish after all. 

 I informed Cleveland of the proposition and the prospects, 

 and he wired me: "Get a good grip on the bass-fishing 

 trip, and for this season we'll let the trout rip." 



I thought the dispatch was bogus on the face of it, for 

 the only time I ever knew Cleveland to attempt anything 

 in this line was when he tried to make a white necktie 

 and a starched shirt rhyme with a northwest gale of wind 

 and rain in an open boat on Lake Champlain. Investing 

 a dollar and a half, I found the message was genuine, 

 although written by Mr. Cleveland's stenographer. This 

 gentleman, by the way, is, in the language of the drift 

 period, "no slouch" as a rhymer. All he requires is a sub- 

 ject, and to be informed of the number of feet and inches 

 required, to have it on tap at a designated time in the 

 immediate future. In fact, after our return home he 

 contributed about a score of touching stanzas reciting 

 some of the chief incidents of the very trip I am now 

 trying to tell about. 



There was another period, this, however, brief, of back- 

 ing and filling which was ended by a wire from Cleve- 

 land, en route, saying he would arrive at my house the 

 evening of Sept. 25, which was Saturday. I telegraphed 

 to Mr. Byington that we would leave here Monday, the 



27th, and meet him at the Delavan House, Albany, the 

 same evening, accoutered as the game law directs for an 

 international fishing cruise. Just as we finished dinner 

 in Albany Mr. Byington and Judge Danaher appeared, 

 and we spent the evening talking over our prospects for 

 sport. The judge took me aside for a little caution. He 

 said in substance that B.'s yacht, which he had had built 

 to order for cruising and fishing, and was really fitted 

 with every comfort and convenience, was the apple of 

 his eye, so to speak, being very fast and seaworthy, and 

 advised me for the sake of peace and harmony to make 

 jokes with anybody or anything rather than even the 

 bilge water of the yacht. I drank it all in and thanked 

 him, promising to caution Cleveland also, for he is rather 

 given to the sort of thing the judge seemed to fear in me 



At midnight Byington said he would have to pack a 

 few last things to be in readiness for the 2:10 A. M. 

 train on the Central R. R., therefore the seance was 

 broken up and C. and I retired for a short nap. Upon 

 the arrival of the train we got a through sleeper to Clay- 

 ton, at which place we duly arrived the next afternoon. 

 The weather for a week or more had been as perfect as an 

 angler could wish for, and we rather feared that there 

 might be a change for the worse, therefore we wished to 

 make all possible speed to the fishing grounds. As the 

 yacht had been sent over to Kingston to await us we con- 

 cluded to hire a tug at Clayton, go to Kingston, get the 

 yacht, and make a night tow up the Bay of Quinte as far 

 as we wished to go. We could easily get a tug to take us 

 to Kingston, but could not get a tug to tow the yacht in 

 Canadian waters, whether it was at night or in the day. 

 As I recall the occurrence which occasioned the back- 

 wardness of the steamboat captains in coming forward 

 to tow us up the Bay of Quinte at that time, an American 

 steamer from Clayton, shortly before our arrival, had 

 discovered a Canadian vessel in distress near the 

 mouth of the St. Lawrence. The vessel flying the 

 British flag was on fire, sinking or something of that 

 sort, and appealed to the American captain for help. 

 The American captain got out his geography and foot 

 rule and "Every Man his Own Lawyer," and found that 

 it was little less than a hanging matter for himself and 

 his crew to rescue the vessel in distress, because she was 

 in Canadian waters. If it had been on the Erie Canal or 

 Spuyten Duy vil Creek he could have saved the lives of 

 the shipwrecked mariners without consulting his law 

 library or thinking of the mortgage on his homestead and 

 his small life insurance for his wife and children. The 

 American captain was a thoroughbred, however, and he 

 hailed the distressed vessel, saying he would stand, by, 

 hoping the Canadian could work into American waters, 

 when he would pick her up and take her home, but the 

 Canadian law would not let him save her where she then 

 was. The vessel did work over the line and the American 

 did pick her up and tow her into her home port, and there 

 the American captain got his reward, for the captain of 

 the rescued vessel swore he was picked up in Canadian 

 waters and the American was fined for it. Whether this 

 matter was too highly colored when repeated to me I 

 cannot say, and I onl} r heard the Clayton side of it. It is 

 veiy possible that the Canadian side of the affair would 

 put a different face upon it, but one has to mind his p's 

 and q's about towing in Canadian waters. 



Soon after my return home, "Piseco," who had pre- 

 ceded us to Hay Bay, wrote an article for Forest and 

 Stream, which was, I think, entitled "Hay Bay," and in 

 a personal letter he said he omitted from the article one 

 matter which he related to me. These are his words: "I 

 left out by accident from my paper an item which I 

 meant to have put in, and perhaps you may utilize it — 

 pro bono publico — when you come to write up your trip. 

 Starting with a light breeze from Spencer's it nearly died 

 out by the time we had gone five miles. Tom recognized 

 coming down astern, a Clayton tugboat commanded by 

 a friend of his. As it was raining we were glad of the 

 prospective tow and lowered and stowed sail, etc. The 

 tug stopped at our hail. 'What is it?' 'Where are you 

 going?' 'To Stone Mills.' 'Give us a tow?' 'I daresent 

 do it, Tom." There we were. Tom was madder than a 

 wet hen, but I judged from the man's manner that really 

 he dared not pick us up; it could be construed into an 

 American tug picking up a tow in Canada water and 

 make trouble for the tug." 



Be it understood that "Piseco" and his boatman were 

 in a fishing skiff and wished merely to get a tow from 

 one fishing ground to another, and, if possible, avoid the 

 rain. The tug with a party of sportsmen from "the 

 States" was also on pleasure bent. 



Having several hours to spare in Clayton, we visited 

 the boat builders where the St. Lawrence fishing skiff is 

 made in perfection; Skinner's trolling spoon factory, 

 where we outfitted with mascalonge spoons and induced 

 Mr. Skinner to go with us as far as Kingston. In the 

 office of the Walton House, where we dined, were hung 

 pictures of notable fish, principally mascalonge, of which 

 I made notes and afterward neglected to copy into my 

 journal, but they were monsters of their kind and fanned 

 our fishing fever to a higher temperature than before. 

 Mr. Skinner had a short time before written me that he 

 had a photograph of a black bass for me, and I found it 

 mounted in his office. It is now behind me on the wall 

 as I write, and a better photograph of a fish I never saw, 

 as one can count the fin rays and spines and the rows of 

 scales above and below the lateral line. 



The Kingston steamer was late, and by the middle of 

 the afternoon the sky portended rain and perhaps a gale, 

 which we would have to face on the morrow; but we bor- 

 rowed no trouble on that score, only assembled ourselves 

 and our belongings on the dock as the steamer made fast. 

 Besides the three anglers already mentioned, and Mr. 

 Skinner, who was going over to see us started from King- 

 ston, there were Charlie Steele and Joe Cherco. Charlie 

 was one of the yacht's crew, who had waited for us, and 

 Joe Cherco was a typical St. Lawrence River boatman, 

 who had, with his skiff, been engaged to fish with Cleve- 

 land and me. By a typical boatman I mean a man who 

 can row or sail a skiff, cook a meal, fish and shoot, and 

 do it all to a queen's taste, or in a manner to please the 

 gods. We were half way to Kingston when it began to 

 rain; a nasty, driving rain, and the weather wise were 

 divided as to whether the storm would last until the next 

 day, but agreed aB to a head wind. On the Kingston 

 dock we found Capt. Bill Steele and his son Eugene, who 

 made up the yacht's crew, and we also found a customs 

 officer. I have observed that some Forest and Stream 

 correspondents have not found things altogether lovely 

 when entering Canada from the United States, because of ' 



some annoyance on the part of the Custom House people. 

 Whether it was owing to Mr. Byington and Mr. Skinner 

 being known, I do not know; but I had the only locked 

 luggage, and the officer merely asked if it contained 

 simply personal belongings and sporting implements 

 which were to be taken out of the country on our return, 

 and I said it did, and that was all there was of it. Bying- 

 ton reported what was on the yacht in the way of guns, 

 but the officer wished only our words that it was a party 

 in search of sport and we Avere to take our effects back 

 with us; and with a request to report the yacht on our de- 

 parture from Canada, he took his departure. 



We sent some of our baggage to the yacht with the 

 men, some to the British-American Hotel, while we took 

 a carriage and were driven to "Old Sam's" to supper, 

 because it was the thing to do. "Old Sam" no longer 

 keeps the inn which bears his name, but before his death 

 he was a Yorksliireman who had good things to eat, and 

 now Mrs. "Old Sam" reigns in his stead and keeps up the 

 reputation of the establishment. If I should give a list 

 of the things which were served to us on our order and 

 the amount of the bill presented by our hostess, the first 

 would be so long and the second so short as to be incon- 

 sistent, but we found other cheap things in Canada. 

 When we went to our hotel it was raining and when we 

 went to bed it was raining, but the next morning ushered 

 in a beautiful day, and a fair sailing breeze had we been 

 in no hurry or had we been going to Montreal instead of 

 in an opposite direction. We were up early and pro- 

 visioned the yacht for a two weeks' cruise, although 

 when the stores came aboard they looked as though we 

 were to remain much longer. The first domestic storm 

 clo-7d arose above the horizon as soon as we touched the 

 deck and it was caused by Cleveland, The yacht was in 

 perfect order from stem to stern; staunch, roomy and 

 comfortable, and Cleveland could discover nothing to 

 find fault with until he read her name, Zaidee. He called 

 me aside and said she must be re-christened, that we 

 would just break a bottle of wine over her bow and call 

 her The Punkinseed, as more fitted to a fishing yacht. I 

 told him I should object so long as we had a corkscrew, 

 and Byington, when he was informed, looked the disgust 

 that his tongue refused to utter. Of course when Cleve- 

 land found that the change of name did not meet with 

 favor from the owner of the yacht he said the change of 

 name was my proposal, but I am wielding this pen and 

 propose to correct the log. We hoped that we might get 

 a Kingston tug to tow us but could not, and there was 

 nothing for us to do but beat against a head wind. 



Leaving Mr. Skinner on the deck, to our regret and 

 his, we made sail; and as the sails filled Cleveland gave 

 his trousers a nautical hitch and exclaimed, "Now, by 

 my tarry toplights, I begin to feel at home: we will grease 

 the binnacle." Byington had scarcely recovered from 

 the "punkinseed" episode, but suggested that he meant 

 oil, not grease, the binnacle. 



"I don't care what you call it so that we do it: but I 

 don't like to be corrected, for I am a regular old sea dog 

 except when I am down cellar in the yacht, sea-sick." 



"Old sea dog; down cellar. Great Scott!" and Byington 

 retired to the cabin to conceal his emotions. The yacht 

 was a "good 'un to look at and a rum 'un to go," and it 

 was not long before we were in the "big gap" off the 

 lower end of Amherst Island, where, we found a good 

 stiff wind. Cleveland interviewed Captain Bill, who was 

 at the tiller. "Isn't the wind a little strong in the nor'- 

 nor'-west by nor'?" "No, just a good wholesail breeze." 

 "Wholesale! That is what I thought from the way she 

 is rearing and pitching, and I would much prefer a retail 

 breeze." When well inside of Amherst Island we saw 

 the smoke of a steamer astern, and when she reached us 

 she proved to be the steam barge Saxon, bound for some- 

 where, which we did not ask, but at our hail she slowed 

 down and we tacked under her stern and got a line from 

 her at our request for a tow. The Zaidee was towing 

 three skiffs, and as the Saxon boomed along light she had 

 a long tapering tow. 



We passed Bath, the "small gap" at the upper end of 

 Amherst Island, Stone Mills (Glenora), the mouth of the 

 chute to Picton, the entrance to Hay Bay, and at night- 

 falL we were off Deserontb, where Mr. Byington and 

 Charlie dropped off in a skiff to get a few things and 

 send some telegrams. Just below Northport we hailed 

 the Saxon to slow down and some one would go aboard 

 in a skiff to pay for the tow. Capt. Steel made for a dock 

 that he said was somewhere out in the darkness while I 

 got into a skiff with Joe to overtake the barge, which I 

 did after a couple of miles or such a matter. 1 concluded 

 the captain of the Saxon did not want anything for tow- 

 ing us, and he did not want much, he said two or three 

 dollars, and I gave him five, for I thought it would be 

 not less than fifteen. I make a note of the Saxon's small 

 tow bill because our party made two by it. When I re- 

 turned Capt. Bill had worked into the dock and made 

 fast, and a big fire was started on shore. Whenever we 

 could we took our meals on shore by a big fire, and dur- 

 ing the trip we were obliged to take few meals on board, 

 and then only when we were under sail. 



The shores* of the Bay of Quinte for the most part show 

 a community of prosperous farmers, having well-tilled 

 fields and living in substantial, comfortable houses. The 

 people living on the south shore of the bay depend appa- 

 rently upon sailing vessels as a means of getting their 

 produce to market, and every few miles there is a small 

 dock which accommodates several farms to this end. It 

 was at one of these docks that the Zaidee was tied up. 

 The weather was as mild as Indian summer, and the fire 

 was only for grandeur and to cook our supper; and such 

 a supper! Capt. Bill and Joe as cooks were artists, al- 

 though they probably never heard of Soyer. Because 

 the bones of nineteen lamb chops were found behind my 

 camp chair after supper, the two pirates that I was sail- 

 ing with tried to prove that T ate that number of chops. 

 The last time that I heard this story told, to a good audi- 

 ence, of course, the number of chops had increased to 

 over a score. Before midnight Mr - . Cleveland and I went 

 to a farmhouse within pistol shot distance to sleep, which 

 is unadorned truth, for we could easily have remained 

 awake on the yacht. 



I like a circus, and am a fairly good performer myself 

 in some parts; but I like either a day circus or a night 

 circus, not the two combined in one at a time when there 

 are fish to be caught. The pranks that were incubated 

 on the yacht should have sunk her before we got home. 

 There were materialized spirits aboard, too: for when I 

 started my clothes were marked with my own name, and 

 when I got home they were marked with another man's. 



