April 19, 1888-] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



243 



he Styottmtim $ouri&L 



Every person who is sufficiently interested in the National 

 Park to do his share toward securing protection for it, is in- 

 vited to send for one of the Forest and Stream's petition 

 blanks. They are sent free. 



REMINISCENCES. 



"YX7HO would, who could forgot the jolly by-gone days. 



t t Many of the "boys" will recall the incidents that 

 come before me as I sit before my open fire of birch logs, 

 something like those the genial John Ghadwick used to 

 cross-pile on the hearth at Upper Dam. 



What a fireplace they have now. Won't Dr. McL. 

 remember how he fished from early morn till six at night 

 from one of the old piers at Upper Dam for a big one he 

 knew was there; and how disgusted he was to see a New 

 York club man take the same stand and in five minutes 

 fasten to a fellow which, when landed, tipped the scales 

 at pluurp six pounds? Does the veteran K. C. remember 

 how he felt when, coming from dinner, he found his 

 boat, with his new rod, reel and line, had floated in front 

 of the rushing sluice, and in a twinkling was bottom up, 

 and he saw the last of that fishing gear? How we all 

 laughed when, after a hurried half-mile walk, my guide 

 despairingly exclaimed, "By mighty, I've forgot the 

 lunch." Poor John, the well-known "U. W. P. Co." can 

 pail hung on his arm all the time. 



Who saw us that day on Ship Island while trolling with 

 single minnows, when I said to my guide, "Harry has 

 hooked a whale," and as he slowly reeled in and at last 

 landed two (trout, not whales) that weighed 2^1bs. and 

 3Jlbs. respectively, the mystery was solved? The fust in 

 jumping for the minnow haa actually passed it through 

 its mouth and out the gill, and a second had taken it. 



My friend O. P. B., who caught the first landlocked 

 salmon of any size I ever saw caught at Upper Dam, (I 

 think it was '83 or '84 and it weighed a little over31bs.) 

 will not forget how, when on my arrival I called down 

 to him from the top of the dam as he sat on one of the 

 piers, he turned to greet me and gracefully slid off into 

 the quick water, and then our patient doctor came to 

 the rescue and ''landed" him safely, but the draughts on 

 the Jamaica ginger were heavy that day. 



What a sportsman's paradise; how bracing the morning 

 air; what an appetite for breakfast at seven after two 

 hours' casting in the gray dawn. Davis and myself will 

 never forget the day we dined at the Narrows with the 

 river drivers at their camp. Very hospitable they were, and 

 the baked beans, bread and tea seemed the best I ever 

 tasted. Well, if the editor don't smother this I will take 

 you later to Bemis, Kenebago, Moosehead, the other way 

 to Sunday Cove, Errol Dam, Fred. 



THAT OLD BUCK OF TRIMCANE. 



THE morning was clear and a little frosty about Jan. 

 10 in the time so far back I dare not write it. But I 

 was young and full of the enthusiasm of youth; in fact I 

 had more than my share of love for dogs and guns. 



The day before I had for the first time been introduced 

 to Squire Kock, a magnificent specimen of black and tan 

 hound ; deep of chest, clean of limb, with ears wide as 

 my hand, lOin. in length, and soft as a lady's cheek, full 

 28in. at the shoulders, and with a loin strong and supple. 

 I noticed his feet, not round as a wolf's, but long and 

 elastic, and his step as noiseless as a cat's. There was 

 something in his long bony head, bright and intelligent 

 eye and quickness of response when spoken to, that made 

 one feel sure he was ready for any work you could set 

 him to do, and his flexible and dilating nostrils said as 

 plain as words could that he never made a mistake in a 

 "run." 



The negro man who led him to me looked up with the 

 remark, "Well, massa, ef dat ole buck gits up to-day 

 you'rn je3 sure to bring home his horns, for Rock nebber 

 lets go until you choke him off or he gets his muzzle into 

 de deer." And, as I said when I began, the morning was 

 all a keen hunter could wish, and mounting my pony 

 and laying my double barrel across the pommel I 

 whistled. Rock and we started. In that part of Mississippi 

 where I was we shot altogether with long-barreled 10- 

 bore double guns, muzzleloaders that chambered three 

 heavy buckshot, and the load was fifteen shot in each 

 barrel. Trimcane Swamp was about two miles to the 

 west of us, and at the crossing was about three-quarters 

 of a mile wide, intersected with cattle and deer paths, and 

 with some water in it, as it always had in winter, it made 

 a safe home for deer, wolves and an occasional bear. The 

 cane was so thick and dense that a horse could not step 

 out of the path and go 10ft. 



Jerry, the black boy, followed me, leading Rock, and 

 after giving me directions where to stand, he went across 

 the slough and into the edge of the piny woods and so 

 up the swamp and against the wind. He told me when 

 we reached home at night that Rock continually strained 

 at the rope and whined with excitement for the last mile 

 of his tramp. When he had gone about three miles he 

 turned into the swamp and loosed the hound, which at 

 once broke into a run down the swamp toward my stand. 

 I had been sitting on my pony about an hour listening 

 to the wonderful sounds from bird, beast and insect, 

 when my ears detected a faint, niello w "open" of the 

 keen old hound, and soon another and another, and I 

 knew the game was afoot. I faced around and looked 

 at the caps, while the little pony began to tremble and 

 prick his tapering ears back and forward and stamp. By 

 this time old Rock's clear, distinct and vibrant baying 

 was continuous and coming nearer and nearer. One 

 hundred yards to the left of me was an open spot with 

 hard ground and entirely clear of cane or brush for an 

 acre, and I had thought of going into it, but Jerry rather 

 insisted upon my staying at the crossing where he had 

 put me. 



Into this "open" within fifteen minutes of the first bay- 

 ing of the hounds, there jumped a buck, the most mag- 

 nificent creature I ever saw, and as he struck the hard 

 ground he faced around toward the coming dog and 

 stamped his angry foot a half dozen times. Such a sight! 

 Such a glorious pair of horns, and such angry defiance 

 as he looked in the direction of the rushing hound. But 

 all this had passed in a few seconds, and while the pony 

 braced himself, I raised my gun and gave him one barrel. 

 Quicker than lightning, he sprang into the air and turned 

 with hair all forward, ears back, head down, and with 



broken leg, but with tremendous bounds he sprang 

 toward me. I had not calculated on this attack, and oh! 

 how I prayed for Rock to come. But in my excitement 

 I did just what was for my only safety, I turned to the 

 side of a big tree, and as I reached it, fired almost into 

 his very face, tearing off his under jaw, and for an in- 

 stant stunning him into a pause. How my heart bounded 

 and thuniped, and how quick one thinks of everything 

 in such an extremity, for I had instantly as I fired sprang 

 from the pony and jumped behind the tree. But no need 

 was there of such a cowardly move, for before the buck 

 could recover himself, Rock, the splendid old fellow, was 

 upon him, with his fangs deep in his throat. With eager 

 haste I loaded one barrel, fearing the buck would kill the 

 good dog. Over and over each other, now one and now 

 the other on the ground, they fought, and I could see 

 that Rock had no baby play before him. I was amazed 

 at his staunchness and courage, never once letting go his 

 bold, How my hands did fly as I rammed the wad upon 

 the balls, and how my courage rose as I saw the good 

 dog still fast where his first leap had struck the deer. 

 But the contest must be ended quickly, for I see blood 

 upon the neck and sides of the old hound, and the sharp- 

 pointed hoofs of the buck were beginning to do deadly 

 work. I raised my gun, and watching an opportunity 

 when I would not hurt the dog, I fired and dropped the 

 buck dead. 



What a magnificent specimen ! Seven points upon each 

 horn , and just in his very best color, though his swollen 

 neck showed that the rutting season was on. Jerry came 

 up in a moment and knelt down by the dear old dog, for 

 in my wonder at the fright and enjoyment of my prize I 

 had almost forgotten him. We raised the old fellow up 

 and found four long and pretty deep cuts on his neck and 

 sides, which Jerry said were not very dangerous. After 

 hanging the buck we placed the hound upon the saddle 

 before me in my arms, and while Jerry carried the gun 

 I rode slowly home with him. 



I was voung then, but never since have I been as proud 

 and excited. H. B. S. 



Marietta, Ohio. 



"THE MYSTERIOUS MISTASSINI." 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



It has been a long while since anything published in 

 an American journal has caused so much merriment 

 among us at the Ancient Capital as Mr. Charles Hallock's 

 article in your issue of the 22d of March on "The Myster- 

 ious Mistassini" in which he attempts to impeach Mr. W. 

 H. H. Murray's knowledge of Canadian geography and 

 belittle his researches in the Labradorian Peninsula. 

 It is probable that when Mr. Murray sees the article 

 he will pleasantly laugh at it and go on with his 

 preparations for his exploration to the Mistassini region, 

 without further comment, and probably that is the proper 

 course of action touching a statement that staz - ts only as- 

 tonishment a.nd laughter among all who have knowledge 

 of the matter. But the article of Mr. Hallock's is very 

 funny, from the very gravity with which he states his 

 ignorance, and the broad humor of it can be appreciated 

 by your American readers, when they peruse this brief 

 statement of the case. 



The country lying between Hudson's Bay and the east- 

 ern line of Labrador looking from west to east, and from 

 the St. Lawrence to Hudson's Straits looking from north 

 to south, is a vast sweep of territory. The distance from 

 Moose Factory on the west side of James' Bay and eastern 

 Labrador is as great as the distance lying between Moose 

 Factory and Washington, D. C. ! No living man has ever 

 trailed this line and we doubt if Mr. Hallock will be the 

 first to attempt it. From the St. Lawrence River to Hud- 

 son's Straits it is 1200 miles of distance (estimated), for no 

 man, red or white, has ever run that line. This vast 

 region, save for a few patch-like settlements, as at Chi- 

 coutimi and Lake St. John, is an uninhabited wilderness 

 of the most savage description, threaded here and there 

 for short distances in different directions by a few trap- 

 ping lines. The Jesuit missionaries nearly two hundred 

 and twenty years ago drew a trail through it from Tadou- 

 sac to Hudson's Bay, a single trail through a region as 

 wide as the space between Maine and Lake Erie. The 

 Price brothers have pushed their lumber camps a little 

 beyond Lake St. John in spots; the government has start- 

 ed two or three expeditions into it, and the Lake St. 

 John R. R. and the Provincial Crown Lands Department 

 have surveyed a score of townships or parishes, but be- 

 yond this nothing has been done, and beyond the scanty 

 and unsatisfactory glimpses thus obtained nothing is 

 known by any of us Canadians of this monstrous forest 

 and wild waste of land. The idea of Mr. Charles Hallock 

 "tipping" to Mr. Murray "a few points to help him 

 through" this vast and utterly unexplored region, is, in 

 the light of the facts of the case, exceedingly rich! 



But the choicest fun in Mr. Hallock's article is artisti- 

 cally put up by him in this passage: "If he" — viz., Mr. 

 Murray— "will examine a common Mitchell School Atlas, 

 published in 1855, he will find this mysterious body of 

 water located exactly where it belongs, across the Lau- 

 rentian watershed in latitude 51% and its dimensions 

 given as 125 miles long by 25 miles wide." 



This is immense! What the boys would call a 

 "screamer." Why, there are no two maps, either in the 

 Library at Paris or in the Crown Lands Department bere 

 at Quebec that agree touching this Lake Mistassini 

 either as to its size or whereabouts. Pere Albanel was 

 the first man who claims to have seen it. This was in 

 1672. Pere Laure in 1733 went through on Pere Albanel's 

 trail and brought out a rough sketch of it. These two 

 old maps are lying before me. These two charts repre- 

 sent Mistassini as a very large body of water, vast, in- 

 definite, which they only crossed but never explored. 

 Mr. John Bignell— a surveyor in high standing in his 

 profession and truthful — heading a government survey 

 some three or four years ago, went through to the Hud- 

 son's Bay Company's post on what is called Mistassini, 

 but he returned without surveying the country and be- 

 lieves that the water he saw was only an arm or one of 

 the bays of Great Mistassini, and that the lake itself 

 lies far beyond and was never seen by white man since 

 the Jesuit's time, save by some wandering trapper. A 

 Mr. Low, who headed another government expedition, 

 made a survey ofthe bit of water— which is not believed 

 to be Mistassini by those who have impartially and 

 fully examined into the subject— and made a report to 

 the Department on his return to Ottawa. His survey 

 makes Mistassini only some 100 miles long by 12 wide. 

 This survey is utterly discredited here by those cogni- 



zant of its true "inwardness," which connects it with 

 certain political matters peculiar to ourselves. In brief, 

 Mr. Murray in his article on the "Mistassini Question" 

 printed in the Boston Herald, last autumn, which was 

 republished in the journal of which I am the city editor, 

 gave a clear and truthful statement, without exaggera- 

 tion, of the whole matter. And if he ever does succeed 

 in reaching the real Mistassini, and bringing out to the 

 world exact knowledge of its locality, its size, and its 

 physical characteristics, he will have performed a most 

 arduous undertaking and will receive the thanks of 

 every Canadian and the deserved acknowledgment of 

 learned bodies. It is very easy to laugh at an earnest 

 man, but such laughter, while it may "Split the ears of 

 the groundlings * * * make the unskilful laugh, cannot 

 but make the judicious grieve." But, Mr. Editor, I did 

 not intend, at the start, to have treated Mr. Hallock's 

 screed seriously, for it does not deserve serious refuta- 

 tion, and would merely say in conclusion that if Mr. Hal- 

 lock will only engage "one of the smaller Indian pupils 

 at Lake St. John to conduct him to his mysterious Mis- 

 tassini," and advertise his start, he will command a 

 larger audience to see him off than ever attended Bar- 

 num's Circus. E. T, D. Chambers. 

 Quebec, April 2; 



Every person who is sufficiently interested in the National 

 Park to do his share toward securing protection for it, is in- 

 vited to send for one of the Forest and Stream's petition 

 blanks. They are sent free. 



SPRING NOTES. 



BUFFALO, N. Y., April 10.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: Despite the cold weather which prevailed 

 during March and the first days of this month, the season 

 is advancing rapidly. 



On March 31, Mr. Alan Alberger shot into a flock of 

 some 200 American crossbills, at Athol Springs on the 

 lake shore. They were flying in four groups of about 50 

 each. On Thursday last, April 5, Dr. W. H. Bergtold 

 shot a hermit thrush at Orchard Park, 10 miles east of 

 here. He also shot a fox sparrow, little known about 

 this locality. He reports finding the hepatica in bloom. 

 He also observed the following: Hairbird, bay- winged 

 bunting, common shrike, phce.be, and both of the king- 

 lets. The robins, sparrows, and bluebirds were in great 

 force. 



I walked over to the reservation at Niagara Falls on 

 Sunday last, April 8. Green things are coming up at a 

 lively rate. The quantity of wild flowers promises to be 

 greater than for some years. There is little of interest in 

 an ornithological line yet to be seen on the islands. I 

 saw several species of winter birds which have not yet 

 gone north. 



Here at Buffalo one is well repaid for a trip to our 

 Park. Great numbers of grackles, robins, bluebirds, 

 and song sparrows can be seen. The shrubbery is full of 

 lisping kinglets and black snowbirds (Junco hyemalis), 

 which latter are very conspicuous by reason of the white 

 tail primaries shown in flight. Meadow larks and phcebe 

 birds are here. 



I saw a robin in this city on Feb. 25. This is the earn- 

 est date I ever saw our familiar red-breast. 



Eben P. Doer. 



Detroit, April 4.— Editor Forest and Stream: No 

 ducks have put in an appearance yet, and as we have no 

 more spring shooting the hunters look forward to the fall 

 shooting with double-barreled interest, and just as well 

 pleased.— .50-95. 



Central Lake, Mich., April 6.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: Robin seen yesterday. The rector of St. John's 

 Church, Elk Rapids, informs me that he saw a meadow 

 lark on Sunday, March 25. As the snow, though "set- 

 tling," has been some 2ft. deep up to date, I did not look 

 for these buds so soon. — Kelpie. 



MOUNTAIN LIONS AND DEER. 



RLFLE CREEK, Colo., March 9.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: There are about here plenty of mountain 

 lions, but it is not very often that one is seen; no one 

 fears them, as they have the reputation of being great 

 cowards, except when wounded. 



There have been many arguments in this camp this 

 winter, one of which ended in a row, over the question 

 whether or no a mountain lion can climb a tree? I have 

 talked with a number of hunters and no one of them 

 ever saw a mountain lion climb a tree. Of course they 

 will run up an inclined tree and spring up to the limbs, but 

 can they support the weight of their body by the claws 

 alone as a house cat does when ascending a tree? 



There is an old man in camp, the owner of seven yoke 

 of oxen, who says he will wager "the whole outfit against 

 a hayseed" that no one can prove to him that the above 

 question can be answered in the affirmative. I think he 

 takes a safe stand. 



There is a belief among many old prospectors and 

 trappers in this country that there exists a very rare 

 variety of deer in Montana which they name fantail 

 deer; they say it is never larger than a Gordon setter, is 

 of a more yellow color than the blacktail deer, never 

 has more than three points to its horns, which are not 

 longer than a man's hand, and has a tail six or eight 

 inches wide. 



The above is the most vivid description that I have 

 been able to gather. Is there any such deer or any deer 

 in the least like these specifications? One more question, 

 Do Eastern trout spawn twice a year? P. B. 



[It is believed that mountain lions do climb trees, but 

 it would be difficult perhaps to produce any one who had 

 actually seen one do it. What do our readers say? Let 

 the panther hunters speak up. The "fantail" deer is a 

 whitetail, nothing more. There is no trout, nor salmon, 

 that spawns twice a year, although there are people who 

 believe that they do.] 



Prairie Chickens Wanted.— Toronto, Ontario, April 

 9. — Editor Forest and Stream: Can any of your readers 

 put me in the way of getting a few pairs of pinnated 

 grouse, or a few dozen of their eggs, with a view to the 

 introduction of the species to a locality in Ontario, that 

 seems to me peculiarly suitable. — Ernest E. Thompson. 



