28 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aug. 4, 1587. 



another hour the monster bass was resting calmly in a 

 large tin boiler, while the clear water of a mountain 

 stream poured constantly through it. Marc sent a tele- 

 gram to New York, and the evening train brought him a 

 tank for the transportation of his fish. Our hero now 

 paddles over the river in every direction to the admira- 

 tion and envy of the village boys, for he got the ten dol- 

 lars and made a canoe that he considers unequaled for 

 speed and beauty. 



The stratagem that had procured for him his bass was 

 too good to keep, so one dark night he made plain to an 

 eager audience, with the aid of his sheet, the apparition 

 that had proved so effective to the lawless fishermen. 

 As for those worthy individuals, life was made a burden 

 to them, and their friends never allowed them to forget 

 the ghost of Standing Stone. 



On crowded Broadway, looking out through a glass 

 tank on the rushing, rumbling teams, and the ever hurry- 

 ing tide of people that press up and down that busy thor- 

 oughfare, is Marc's prize bass. Day after day "it idly 

 beats its tail against the crystal sides, and impassively 

 stares at the eager faces that throng around the window. 

 But its thoughts are far, far away, up where the North 

 Branch winds its serpentine course among the towering 

 mountains, and waters the fair historic valleys of Brad- 

 ford and Wyoming; up where, morning and evening, 

 the sun shines tenderly down and lingers with its soft 

 warm caresses on the rugged, weather-beaten head of 

 Standing Stone. "W. Murray Graydon. 



MENHADEN FISHING IN NEW JERSEY. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



For several years past our fishermen have objected to 

 the manner in which the menhaden pirates of other 

 States steamed into our bays and scooped up everything 

 in the murdering purse net. The question fairly put is: 

 Shall a few men be allowed to destroy our fisheries in 

 order that they may make money out of oil? The Phila- 

 delphia Times, of Monday last said: "All along the New 

 Jersey coast these steamers are known as piratical craft. 

 From the head of Bamegat Bay to Cape May is a contin- 

 uous string of islands iuclosing bays and inlets. In these 

 bays and inlets swim the food fish which supply the sum- 

 mer resorts and markets to a considerable extent. So 

 bold have these pirates become that they steam right into 

 the mouths of the inlets. They are destroying sheeps- 

 head, weakfish, kingfish, bluefish, mackerel and all the 

 fine food fish with alarming rapidity, and they threaten 

 to ruin, not only the livelihood of the market fishermen, 

 but the sport of the many thousands of seaside visitors 

 who are likely to try the hook and bine. There is a deep 

 feeling along the coast against the pirates who care noth- 

 ing for law, and the coming session of Congress will see 

 another attempt made to keep them in bounds. 



"They never pause to consider the character of the fish. 

 A sea captain whose word goes as far as John Jacob As- 

 tor's bond would go, says he saw three hundred black 

 drum caught in one haul of the purse net last summer. 

 They were taken to Atlantic City and sold for twenty-five 

 cents apiece, all that were not cast out on the beach, near 

 Atlantic and left to rot ; and why ? Because there is no 

 oil in a dramfisb save ia its head, and it doesn't pay to 

 make fertilizer or extract oil from this game fish. 



"Recently a menhaden vessel from New London, Conn., 

 caught $500 worth of fresh mackerel at one haul, and 

 a captain with a commercial eye in his head undertook 

 to take four tons of these fish to Atlantic City, and to 

 send 10,000 to a Philadelphia market. The firm wrote 

 back, 'Your fish are a total loss.' The weather was hot, 

 and when they reached market they could only be thrown 

 away like the historic 'rotten mackerel.' Here was a 

 wicked waste of food fish, more in number than all the 

 fishermen will catch tins summer between Cape May and 

 Bamegat Light. 



"I could multiply instances. The menhaden pirates 

 have practically ruined the fishing along shore. Their 

 murderous purse nets have driven the mackerel from the 

 coast. There are three fish factories at Somer's Point or 

 Great Egg Harbor, and three at the Breakwater; and if 

 the menhaden pirates are allowed to come into the inlets 

 and catch the best fish by millions, the business of fishing 

 with a rod and line and reel, or even with a handline, is 

 like Othello's occupation — gone." 



Anoling Literature op America.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: The list of books on angling and fishes, given 

 by Mr. Hallock, as published in your paper, is, I think, a 

 little misleading. I havo just looked over a few of the 

 books mentioned, which I happen to have, which I never 

 suspected were "fishing" books; for instance, Latrobe's 

 "Rambles in North America," 1835; Marvel's "Wet Days 

 at Edgewood," "Arcadia, Northern New York," 1864. 

 I can't find that any one of them contains a word about 

 fish or fishing. "Hudson's Bav; or, Every-Day Life in 

 the "Wilds of North America," i858, is by R. M. Ballan- 

 tyne, and is a capital book for boys. It does contain 

 about two pages on fishing. Here is how he commences: 

 "Having arrived at the edge of the place where we usu- 

 ally fished, each drew from a cleft in the rock a stout 

 branch of a tree, around the end of which was wound a 

 bit of twine with a large hook attached to it. This we 

 unwound quickly, and, after impaling a live grasshopper 

 upon the barbs of our respective hooks, dropped them into 

 the water and gazed intently at the line," etc. This would 

 hardly commend the book to an "angler." I think there 

 are other errors in the Hst. The titles are misleading; 

 some, I think, are not books at all, but only articles in 

 sporting papers. I can find no record of them. It would 

 be quite useful if some competent person would make up 

 an exact list of American angling books and print it in 

 the Forest and Stream. — Angler. 



Black Bass in West Virginia.— White Sulphur 

 Springs, July 14. — On Monday a friend and I went to 

 Caldwell, on the Greenbriar River, but the stream was 

 high and roily and we had only a pleasant drive for our 

 pains. Yesterday at the unseemly hour of 3:37 A. M., we 

 took a train to Ranceverte, on the C. & O. R. R., where 

 we had telegraphed for boats and bait. Three of us took 

 thirty bass but they were small. Our boatman says he 

 took a small-mouth in the Greenbriar last year that 

 weighed 7|lbs. We will probably try the James River 

 next. — C, 



TADOUSAC. 



SITUATED on the St. Lawrence at the junction of that 

 river and the noble Saguenay, about twelve hours' 

 sail by boat from Quebec, Tadousac is yearly becoming 

 better known to both the sporting fraternity and the tour- 

 ist bent on pleasure, or the relief of both body and mind. 

 Salmon and trout fishing can be indulged in to the full- 

 est extent, the rivers here possessing the "noble king of 

 fish," the goodly salmon, are preserved, being so valuable; 

 but there are still those that afford that pastime to the 

 entire satisfaction of the skilled angler, and passes are 

 not so difficult to obtain if applied for to the proper quar- 

 ters. As for trout fishing in stream and sea, it is really 

 marvellous; and it is simply necessary to put on a good 

 strong pair of boots and walk down to the sea, only 200ft. 

 in front of you, turn to the left of the beach, and fly-fish 

 till your wants are satisfied, or your arm refuses longer 

 to cast the fly. In proof of this fact it may be well to 

 mention a feat which occurred here at Black Point on the 

 Saguenay, ten minutes' stroll from the hotel. 



Mr. S. T. Hatt, who is at present stopping with Mr. 

 Powell, of Philadelphia, in his comfortable cottage at 

 Tadousac, performed the unparalleled feat of attracting 

 to his flies five fish at two casts of the line; it occurred as 

 follows: A good sized trout snapped the tail (or last fly) 

 and came with a rush to the top and flew out.of the water; 

 this attracted some of the others below, one of which in 

 his eagerness to get a mouthful took the second fly, and 

 began to pull in the opposite direction to No 1; this had 

 the effect of keeping the bob (or first fly, nearest Mr. 

 Hatt) dipping on the surface, when low and behold, up 

 came another and seized the bob fly. Mr. Hatt's hands 

 were now full with three at once. He managed by his 

 great skill to land all three. His next cast in exactly 

 the same spot secured two more. This occurred on the 

 27th of June, almost within buckshot range of the hotel. 

 The salmon here have been most plentiful, and a few 

 lines clipped from the Quebec Chronicle of the 1st of July 

 will more clearly explain the position than the pen of 

 your humble correspondent: 



This manly sport, which has induced the nohles of far distant 

 lands, and the merchant princes of the great neighboring Republic 

 to assemble around the restive bay or Tadousac, has now com- 

 menced with promise of great results to the keen sportsmen who 

 yearly indulge in this pastime. The salmon trout take the fly 

 moat readily in the bay already, and goodly bags are daily netted 

 with both fly and bait. The salmon of the St. Marguerite River, 

 14 miles from Tadousac, have begun to try the patience of some 

 Boston fishermen, at the end of 100 to 125yds. of line, requiring 

 skill and rare ability to conquer the noble "king of fish" roused to 

 the pitch of "the death struggle" in his native element, while the 

 Little Bergeron daily sends forth some magnificent specimens, 

 one lot alone, offered for sale in Tadousac, embraced 13 fish in all, 

 the 3 largest weighing 351bs., and the smallest one, a baby fish, 

 tipped the scales atlOlbs. 



As from early dawn till the darkening shadows of 

 evening suggest a return to the comforts of a hotel, the 

 visitors to this enchanted spot, both ladies and gentlemen, 

 know nothing but pleasure. The ladies have a keen 

 relish for the sea bathing, which usually commences 

 about July 10, and as the beach slopes so gradually that a 

 human being would literally require to walk 150ft. from 

 the sand to get out of his depth, if even only 5ft. 6in., the 

 bathing here is absolutely safe, while the shelter for 

 yachts and small boats in the bay is unequalled any- 

 where. It is time that New Yorkers and others dis- 

 covered the snug retreat of the lucky Bostonians, who 

 yearly revel in such scenery and sport, 



BASS FOR BREAKFAST. 



HOT? Yes, it was hot. "Warm" is quite too cool a 

 word to be used while the mercury is worrying the 

 nineties, and it was somewhere in that neighborhood upon 

 that particular Saturday afternoon. I became at length 

 impatient of the heat, and said to myself: "Behold, I will 

 go forth and delude a bass for my Sabbath morning's 

 breakfast." 



So with bow-facers shipped, while rod and landing net 

 lay ready to my hand, I pushed the Kelpie from the 

 shores, and with a steady stroke away we went, up river. 



Of the five summers past, it is only during the present 

 that I have made any special effort to catch bass in the 

 Intermediate. The fishing has been so indifferent that I 

 felt little encourage"ment to try it; but of late I have 

 taken some good ones. I had at first some hesitation in 

 starting on a fishing expedition, from the fear, as I said 

 to a friend, that I might catch something — that is, more 

 than I could conveniently make use of, for I remember 

 that when the fishing was good there was often a scan- 

 dalous waste. The garden at Smith's old hotel is well 

 manured with the finest sorts of fish. 



My friend, however, assured me that "it would be all 

 right;" and indeed, there was a greater demand for my 

 fish than I had anticipated, and it came to pass that I fed 

 several grateful families, 



I rowed along, watching, meanwhile, the twittering 

 birds, the foliage trembling in the heated air, the sunlight 

 shimmering on the broad green lily pads, among which, 

 ever and anon, there gleamed the white corollas of their 

 flowers, and noting the while a slight haziness in the 

 northwestern sky. 



And it grew hotter. The birds seemed almost to gasp 

 as they lazily piped from the dead branches of the cedars 

 along the river's edge; and I remembered a certain mis- 

 guided girl from Ohio, who hitherward came this summer 

 to see her friends, leaving behind yet others who per- 

 suaded her that, going as she was into the far North, 

 among the icebergs, she should take none, save and ex- 

 cept the thickest apparel she could muster. This advice 

 she took and sore repenteth. 



Landing near the head of the river I diligently sought 

 the elusive frog. Did I say that it was hot? It was so; 

 and that frog knew it and kept close. But at last I got a 

 long shot at him with the paddle and put him into my 

 bucket. Then I secured his brother, after which I ap- 

 proached a little spring, for it was very hot and I fain 

 would drink. Then arose from the border of the spring 

 that which I took to be a woodcock, a bird which as yet 

 I had not seen in these parts. 



He alighted within a few feet, and moving cautiously 

 forward, I saw him strutting along the trunk of a fallen 

 cedar, and knew him for a half -grown grouse. One after 

 another six went forth, followed by the mother bird, 

 which flew across the river. I did not seek for more, and 

 think that these birds had not before been disturbed since 

 hatching. 



I have scarcely heard a gun tliis summer and believe 

 that the influence of the Audubon Society and the game 

 warden has been beneficial. 



The waters of the spring were good. < 'Kingfisher, " had 

 he been there, would have indorsed this statement; and 

 the thought reminded me that I had promised, myself a 

 bass for breakfast. 



Entering the boat. I rowed to a spot near the channel, 

 where, at the foot of the lake, the current held an open 

 space among the lilies, and sought to entice into my 

 bucket the lively minnow. But, as I before remarked, it 

 was very hot, and when I caught three I said, "With 

 two frogs and three minnows shall I not catch a bass?" 

 And but for the heat I would have laughed, the while it 

 grew a trifle hazier in the northwest. 



And as I fished for minnows came a scow, containing 

 barefoot boys, who, landing not far below, proceeded to 

 disrobe (in their case a very simple process), and entering 

 the river, there screeched and swattered. 



Across the field ; and upon the side of the stream remot- 

 est from the bathers, came while yet they splashed the 

 ominous tramp of a large and heavy female; and she up- 

 lifted her voice and cried unto her first born, "M-e-l-v-i-n." 



Now she repeated this cry many times, and as I heard 

 it well enough, though some twenty rods further away 

 than Melvin, I admh-ed that he replied not, and was 

 thereby reminded of the days of my childhood. When 

 by dint of much howling, Melvin was at last led to give 

 attention, this female, being by that time both breathless 

 and rubicund (for it was hot), solemnly enunciated these 

 words: "Melvin, you put on your close and git for home/' 



And Melvin got. 



On a warm day bow^facing oars are especially advan- 

 tageous in giving the rower the benefit of the breeze 

 created by the motion of the boat. This fact I appreci- 

 ated as the Kelpie glided onward through Cedar Lake 

 into Hanley's, passing the mouths of cool, rippling brooks, 

 where shoals of minnows scurried away before the 

 glancing prow. 



Still on, up Sisson's River and into Benway's Lake. 

 And it grew hotter and hazier, while I was not sorry that 

 I had pitched an old Macintosh into the boat before I left 

 my landing. 



Now we approach a point of reeds upon the eastern 

 shore, where, through multitudinous cat-tail flags, there 

 softly flows into the lake a cool spring brook. "King- 

 fisher" knows it well; more by token, one of the family 

 sat upon a cedar tree near by. 



My minnows were small and my frogs wer9 large, and 

 as I had taken a perch of about the regulation size for 

 bait, I resolved to experiment with him. This I accord- 

 ingly did, and straight there was a bite. 



It was not a bass, however; and when I raised the bait 

 from the bottom I perceived that it was grasped amid- 

 ships by the jaws of a small pickerel, perhaps weighing a 

 pound. 



Remembering that as yet none of my catches had been 

 wasted, I allowed this fish to "monkey" with my perch; 

 but after a time he gave it up, apparently in despair, and 

 I moved onward. Again I cast the perch; again a bite. 



This time it was another pickerel, a little larger than 

 the first, and when I had boated him, I put on a frog and 

 cast again. Before long I had two bites in quick succes- 

 sion, just as I was taking note of the cumulus clouds 

 that now were rolling steadily upward above the western 

 woods. They meant business. So did my two bites. The 

 first of these was from a mosquito, the second a bass. 



By thunder, thought I to myself, while the good rod 

 bent and merrily sang the reel, I am of opinion that this 

 time we have upon our line a regular old sockdolager. 

 The bass halted and continued his operations upon the 

 frog. I backed off into the lake. 



The jagged and broken edges of the uppermost strata 

 of clouds looked windy, while from beneath rolled 

 steadily upward black and heavy masses of vapor, in the 

 midst of them the thunder growled and streams of light- 

 ning played. 



And you had better believe that it was hot while I was 

 sitting there in that boat slapping a mosquito from time 

 to time,with never a breath of air stirring, and waiting as 

 patiently as the nature of the chrcumstances would per- 

 mit for the blasted bass to masticate my frog. 



All things must have an end; and just as I was wonder- 

 ing whether or not I should have time to mop my per- 

 spiring features with my pocket handkerchief the bass 

 started, and as he leaped away on his headlong course, 

 the moaning sound in the distant forest deepened into an 

 angry roar. 



To this I paid little attention at the moment, for that 

 bass was a tiger, and well he held his own. For the next 

 fi' e minutes I think that I cared little for the weather if 

 it was hot. When I fight a 61b. bass (estimated, you 

 understand) without an oarsman, I want bow-facing oars 

 to do it with every time. Into the air leaped the frenzied 

 fish, and it was all that I could do to keep him from get- 

 ting slack line when he darted toward the boat. After 

 two or three leaps he seemed to be inclined to devote his 

 energies toward the reaching of some point to the south- 

 ward, and. keeping On the line a steady strain, I let him 

 go. By this the sky had grown quite black, which ren- 

 dered it difficult to see clearly just what was ahead. 

 Alas! that villanous patch of sunken weeds. The bass 

 sounded. I reeled. Yank, whiz. Something had hap- 

 pened. The bass it was, not I, that yanked. Just how 

 he managed it I do not know, but it became painfully 

 evident that there was "stunmat hup," and when I had 

 reeled in my line I found at least a half bushel of weeds 

 at the end thereof, snake-weeds at that, but nary bass. 



The storm came down upon us in its power, and I laid 

 in the rod and headed southward. "But," saith the dude, 

 "why didn't you start befaw?" Because, my son, if there 

 is in nature anything which I dearly love, it i? a real, 

 rousing, splendid old storm. Had you been with me I 

 should, of course, have been at home an hour before. 

 But I wouldn't have missed that sight for a dozen dudes, 

 or bass either. 



The waters of the little lake were white with angry 

 foam, and the fierce wind vainly strove to wrench the 

 oar-blades from their clasps, while I pulled through the 

 lily-pads into the river's channel and sought the shelter 

 of the bridge until the first burst of the storm should pass. 



The waves flashed back the lightning's gleam, the thun- 

 der broke a'ong the hills, and on and on through the 

 crashing woods came in its might the stem tramp of the 

 hurricane. 



In a quiet pool, well shielded from the blast, the 

 ' 'skaters were plying their vocation, and I wished that 

 I knew just how it was that they managed so deftly to 

 ran upon the surface of the water. I had not supposed 

 that I should be annoyed by mosquitoes after the wind 



