Not. 10, 1887. J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



309 



as their humor is so quaint that it does not require a sportsman to 

 appreciate the shrcwduess and humor of Uncle Lisha, the gascon- 

 ade of Antoine the Frenchman, the grave but funny wisdom of 

 Sam Lovel, or the peculiar characteristics of the others who figure 

 in the narrative. The publishers have done the public a service 

 in publishing these delightful sketches in a neat and permanent 

 form, and the book ought to have a large sale.— Belleville {Ont.) 

 Intelligencer. 



The book is a charming record of true observation, close sym- 

 pathy with men and nature, and accurate representation of 

 Yankee and French Canadian dialect. Since Uncle Remus ap- 

 peared on something the same plan, nothing more original and 

 amusing has been issued by any American writer.— Toronto Globe. 



to the square inch iu some of the chap- 

 " to the yarns. An occasional pathetic 

 the book, which on the whole is a very 

 he c haracters are faithfully delineated, 

 an;, bod y could desire; very natural, 

 ,alk of the Frenchman, "Antoine." The 

 down, will be inclined to regret the 

 •Jerushy and the closing of the shop.— 



There's considerable fun 

 ters, as the reader "listens 

 incident adds variety to 

 interesting one. Some of t 

 and the dialect is as brok 

 especially, is the chopped t 

 reader, as he lays the bool 

 departure of 'Lisha and 

 St. Albans Messenger. 



Faithful portraitures of Green Mountain characters, with in- 

 disputably correct dialect of Yankees and Canadians, the chai 1 - 

 aeter representations being very felicitous. We have heard these 

 papers very highly commended by people of cultivated literary 

 tastes, and they are warmly praised by Senator Edmunds, Dr. 

 Jed. H. Baxter, Purveyor General of the United States army, and 

 others equally well qualified to judge of their merit.— Montpclier 

 Argus and Patriot, Sept. 21. 



A clever picture of Vermont country life. The humor of the 

 book is of the quaint, dry sort which is associated with the word 

 Yankee, and there is often a great deal of shrewdness mixed in 

 with the fun.— Detroit Sunday News. 



MINOMTORIOU8 AND MA JORITOHIOV/S CRITICS. 



Portland Advertiser. Hartford Courant. 

 * * * Involves a good deal of A picture of rural Vermont 

 overdrawn dialect, too esagger- where the primitive manners 

 ated even for Yankee land. The speech and customs have been 

 use of expletives also, as here preserved by an isolation unvi- 

 employed, is something to bo olated by the march of progress, 

 dreaded. * * * There is an oc- Chapter 1, "The School Meeting 

 casional "cute" remark, and in District 13," might have been 

 here and there a fairly good written by Craddock, the humor 

 sketch of character or descrip- is so rich and the dialect so f aith- 

 tion of out-of-door scenery; but fully rendered. The exhortation 

 such dialect, as witness this, at a of the moderator is quotable 

 town meeting: enough to pass into proverb, 

 * * * "that them as is in the when he hopes "that them 'at is 

 minority will feel as content to in the mynority will feel as con- 

 be minoritorious as them 'at is tent to be minoritorious as them 

 in the may-rjority will be to be 'at is in the may-jority will be to 

 ma.ioritorious." be majoritorious." 



Address all communications to (he Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



WHO CAUGHT THE BIG BASS? 



A STONE thrown twice by a strong arm from the 

 . mouth of Little Otter out into Lake Champlain 

 would fall on Rock Island. If thrown Aug. 15, 1887, or 

 thereabouts it might also have created no little confusion 

 in the peaceful camp of the Bass-Killers who, two days 

 before, had spread their canvas under the few stunted 

 wind-blown trees which huddled together on the highest 

 part of t :e island. 



The Bass-Killers, voyaging southward from Platts- 

 burgh, N. Y., in the good yacht Dolphin, had sighted 

 Thompson's Point at high noon of Saturday, the 13th 

 inst. ''"Whither away?" was the next question. Nobody 

 knew exactly where the mouth of the Little Otter was. 

 Somewhere in the sweep of the wide extending bay, we 

 knew the waters of that once famous trapping stream 

 must add their sluggish volume to the lake; but to what 

 point of the eastern horizon should the skipper point the 

 Dolphin's prow? This all-important question was finally 

 settled by sending the Pedagogue and the Reformed 

 Grocer ashore in the tender to propound the problem to 

 the cottagers on the point. In due time the seekers after 

 definite information returned, the Pedagogue's pockets 

 bulging with apples and the Reformed Grocer keeping 

 watch and ward over a large apple pie transferred from 

 its original plate to a piece of board. While the Peda- 

 gogue distributed his worm-eaten, but very welcome 

 fruit, the Reformed Grocer waved his hand to the south- 

 east, where the waters seemed to melt into the horizon 

 with no intervening shore and exclaimed: 

 "Head 'er that way, Cheese'm!" 



"Cheese'm" was the nautical member jiar excellence of 

 the party. His rightful designation was Chisholm, of the 

 firm of Chisholm & Hobbs, but by way of retaliation for 

 the fact that he had no nickname, like the rest of us, we 

 barbarously corrupted what he had. 



Chisholm headed the Dolphin southeast, and with a 

 light breeze dead astern we laid a diagonal course across 

 the bay. An hour's sailing brought us opposite Rock 

 Island, where we promptly went aground, as the Thomp- 

 son's Point cottagers had informed the Pedagogue we 

 would; but he had been too much preoccupied with 

 apples and other matters to mention the fact. We accord- 

 ingly compelled him to strip the buskins from his long 

 legs and explore the vicinity for deeper water. He dis- 

 covered a channel leading toward the island, and with 

 great difficulty we got the Dolphin off and floated her 

 into a convenient little harbor on the shore side of the 

 island. It was decided to pitch camp then and there, 

 fate having cast us upon a very desirable spot, taking 

 everything into consideration. So it was that the setting 

 sun of Aug. 13 beheld some strange excrescences upon 

 Rock Island — two tents, which from the horizon undoubt- 

 edly appeared white, a rude shanty for cooking purposes, 

 and last, but not least, a strangely variegated flag, float- 

 ing from a pole strapped to the highest limb of the high- 

 est tree on the island. The Bass-Killers were domiciled. 



Sunday we spent in the over-indulgence of slumber and 

 fche invasion of the mainland for milk and eggs, Monday 



was very warm, and we loafed, getting tackle, rods, flies, 

 etc., into condition for use. We were also visited by a 

 party from shore, one of whom said that he was the fish 

 warden for that township, but that business was dull with 

 him because the Legislature of Vermont was not liberal 

 and large-minded enough m the matter of emoluments. 

 However, he informed us that it was the open season for 

 all lake fish (as if we didn't know), and graciously in- 

 formed us that we might go ahead and "ketch a wagon 

 load of 'em for aught he cared." Thus sanctioned and 

 commissioned by the local representative of law. we, the 

 Bass-Killers, loyal citizens of the great commonwealth of 

 New York, began active operations on Tuesday morning, 

 the l(5th of August. Having engaged the use of a small 

 skiff from a resident fisherman and farmer, our piscatorial 

 fleet consisted of aforenamed skiff and the tender of the 

 Dolphin. As there were seven of us, this meant three 

 men to one boat and four to the other, provided all would 

 a-fishino; go at the same time. As no one but Cheese'm 

 was willing to be left out of the count on the first day, a 

 formidable forest of rods might have been seen floating 

 a way from Rock Island at 6:30 o'clock A. M. of the 16th 

 of August. 



The boats were managed as follows: In the yacht 

 tender, the Scribe, the Reformed Grocer and He-of-the- 

 Big-Cup. In the skiff, the Pedagogue, Paregoric and Et 

 Als. At this point, with one comprehensive bow. I will 

 introduce the dramatis personce. The Reformed Grocer 

 (who furnished the supplies for the party and will collect 

 dues when he can) was so called because of his remark- 

 able aversion to the accustomed tricks of the trade. The 

 slightest allusion to sanded sugar or coffee and beans 

 throws him into a towering passion. His extreme sus- 

 ceptibility on this point makes it natural to infer that at 

 some period of his life a great moral reaction has taken 

 place. He-of-the-Big-Cup earned his compounded dis- 

 tinction from the fact that early in the campaign he 

 appropriated the most commodious tin vessel in the outfit 

 for his personal use, and sipped his quart of ambrosia 

 thrice daily , while the rest of us were forced to be content 

 with a paltry pint. Paregoric is a young doctor, supposed 

 to have begun his practice upon infants afflicted with 

 mild types of inevitable disorders. The Pedagogue needs 

 no introduction. He wears glasses, and it takes an ant 

 an hour and ten minutes to run up the leg of his panta- 

 loons. Et Als is a rising young lawyer. He has already 

 risen to the fifth floor back, and his shingle is only visible 

 from the evening star. Cheese'm. skipper and cook, is 

 an insurance agent. Last and least, the Scribe, comes in 

 for a Bhare of notice which he does not deserve. His 

 first novel is out (of circulation). It fell flat as a pancake, 

 and was done equally brown by the critics. 



The morning sun, as I have as good as intimated, 

 gleamed on six fancy rods, as the fleet of the Bass-Killers 

 put out from the camp on the island. The captain of the 

 tender directed her course to a reef about half a mile out. 

 The skiff on the other hand (manned by less experienced 

 fishermen!), made full speed for the river, and soon dis- 

 appeared behind the curtain of reeds. 



When the tender had approached wdthin a stone's-throw 

 of the reef, the oars were laid across the thwarts, and the 

 boat was allowed to drift Avith the fight south breeze over 

 the shallows. He-of-the-Big-Cup stood in the bow and 

 cast; the Reformed Grocer preferred to sit on the center 

 thwart and troll his fly, while the Scribe whipped the 

 water from the stern. As is likely to be the case, the least 

 scientific performer got the first rise. In a very brief space 

 of time the Reformed Grocer's reel began to buzz. The 

 Grocer announced the fact with a yell which would have 

 done credit to a Comanche, and got upon his feet so .sud- 

 denly that the boat lurched and He-of-the-Big-Cup plunged 

 headforemost into the limpid water. As the depth of the 

 latter waa not over 4ft. at this point, it was not long be- 

 fore the astonished angler reappeared, and gathering up 

 his rod and hat, made for the tender with an expression 

 of countenance which boded ill for the personal comfort 

 of the Reformed Grocer. The latter, however, was so 

 busily engaged with his finny antagonist as to be utterly 

 oblivious of everything else. And well he might be, for he 

 had evidently hooked a monster. The slender rod bent 

 like a willow twig, and the reel fairly sung as the line 

 went spinning out. 



Suddenly the bass took a turn around the boat. He-of- 

 the-Big-Cup saw the line coming, and his animosity im- 

 mediately changed to the liveliest interest. "Look out!" 

 yelled the Grocer. "You'll get me tangled up." He-of- 

 the-Big-Cup plunged for the boat, but it was too late. 

 The line came swishing across him. Dropping rod and 

 hat, he grasped it, and to the unspeakable horror of the 

 Reformed Grocer, proceeded to hard in, hand over hand, 

 as though the oiled silk was a trolling cable. It was a 

 coup de-main never before equalled in the annals of the 

 Bass-Killers. Steadily, surely, swiftly the bedraggled 

 angler roped in his victim. I shall never forget the look 

 of intensity, of determination which sat upon that coun- 

 tenance. The water dripped unheeded from nose and 

 ears and plastered locks. His eyes were fixed intently 

 upon the swaying line and the swirl of waters where the 

 lordly bass was fighting against fate. Now comes the ex- 

 pected rush, the leap in air. Like the spokes of a whirl- 

 ing wheel the arms of the angler gathered in the slack. 

 Well done, Thou-of-the-Big-Cup! Now gently; keep his 

 head out of water; don't let him swing off toward the 

 boat. 



"Jump out and land him, one of you!" gasped He-of- 

 the-Big-Cup. with suppressed emotion. "Don't let him 

 rub against the boat. The Scribe snatched up the land- 

 ing net and slid over the edge of the tender. Side by 

 side with Him-of-the-Big-Cup, peering out into the trans- 

 parent water, stands the man of the quill. It is the last 

 act of the drama. The Reformed Grocer, defrauded of 

 his laurels, looks upon the scene, with mouth expanded, 

 awaiting the issue. Nearer, nearer comes the exhausted 

 bass. The net is slowly submerged; the Scribe is waiting 

 his opportunity. 



Look out!— a dash, a churning of the water. For an 

 instant the broad back of the bass appears on the surface. 

 The Scribe swiftly brings the net underneath. It is 

 raised, and a triple shout goes up. There in the meshes 

 flops the monster bass! The Reformed Grocer paddles 

 the boat alongside. The net and its contents are carefully 

 assigned to him. A whack of the bludgeon and all dan- 

 ger of escape is over. He-of-the-Big-Cup climbs over the 

 bow. The Scribe climbs over the stern ; and the Reformed 

 Grocer rows us back to camp. 



Presently the other boat returns— with a slimy pickerel! 

 The Big Basfi is suspended in front of the camp, with n 



card in his mouth announcing to all whom it may con- 

 cern that his lordship, undressed, weighs 5£lbs. 



"Who caught him?" asked the Pedagogue. 



"I," said the Reformed Grocer. 



"I," said He-of-the-Big-Cup. 



"I," said the Scribe. Paul Pastnoe. 



ON THE GASCONADE.-I. 



"TTELLO, Will, what do you say to a trip to the Gas- 

 -LJL conade?" 



"Say ? Why, that I want to go, of course. When do 

 you start ?" 



' 'In tw r o or three days. The party will consist, if you go, 

 of yourself, Frank T., William M., and my boy, Alex. 

 That'll make two Alexs, two Bills and a Frank. If the 

 Bills can't pay us out we'll have to be Franked through." 



"Humph!" was the reply, "we'll pull through well 

 enough, the main thing is to' get away from business, but 

 I reckon I can manage it. You may count on me to go." 



The first speaker was the narrator of this tale; the 

 gentleman he addressed, the mayor of the city; Frank T. 

 the circuit clerk of the goodly county of Lafayette, Billy 

 M. a prosperous merchant of the place, and Alex., the 

 twelve-year-old son of the writer. Formality is no part 

 of an outing, therefore we will in this truthful story sim- 

 ply distinguish between our two Williams by speaking of 

 the mayor as Will and of the merchant as Billv, being in- 

 cited to take the liberty with the latter by the circum- 

 stance that wdiile he has long since arrived at the years of 

 discretion, he has, so far, failed to add to himself the 

 dignity of a wife. He says that this is accounted for by 

 the fact that he has arrived at years of discretion. 



It was about the first of October, 1S86, that I write of. 

 The days were balmy and soft, the nights deliciously cool, 

 but without frost: weather to make glad the heart of man, 

 and with just enough chill in its nocturnal hours to dis- 

 courage the mosquito. 



I am writing this now, months after the occurrence, but 

 with the temptation to renew them now at hand, as much 

 for my own gratification as for that of the reader, and 

 hence shall stray aside into occasional paths of fancy 

 which may seem immaterial to a consecutive relation of 

 incidents, but I trust when the last line is penned and 

 finis is written after the account of this sojoiu-n in the 

 woods and upon the water, that those who love sport and 

 nature may have accompanied me, as the backwoodsman 

 would say, from eend to eend. 



There is a good deal in Pope's idea of the pleasures of 

 anticipation, and he is neither man nor sportsman who 

 does not as much enjoy the preparation for an outing as 

 the trip itself. It is not necessary to speak about the boy. 

 We have been boys ourselves, and know how it is. The 

 next few days were to him an epoch of unalloyed bliss. 

 He rigged tackle in the daytime, and dreamed at night 

 that he was catching bass as long as his leg. He abbrev- 

 iated Gasconade to Gasky, mingled a little slang with his 

 talk, but never spoke or thought of any other subject. 

 His seniors, all old sportsmen, three of* them soldiers of 

 the civil war, therefore veteran campers-out, to tell the 

 truth were not far behind him, and in their spare moments 

 got together their duffle. 



Do you want a list of it? Well, here it is. One good, 

 heavy A tent; each fellow his roll of bed clothes, gum 

 blanket, coat and an overcoat. A mess box containing a 

 boiled ham, a side of breakfast bacon, a big bag of beat 

 biscuits, a pound cake. In tight tin buckets, 5 pounds of 

 granulated sugar, 3 pounds of good coffee , ground ; 5 pounds 

 of lard, and 3 pounds of nice, yellow butter. Flour, meal, 

 baking powder, a quarter of a pound of tea. salt, black and 

 cayenne pepper, pickle, a sauce or two, and, don't avert 

 your head, some onions. However unrefined this esculent 

 may be at home and among delicate and aesthetic people, 

 it is an indispensable adjunct to a well-ordered outer's 

 pot-au-feu — in this instance the French means stew pot 

 on a camp-fire. 



You can see, that fish or no fish, game or no game, our 

 party did not mean to go hungry. 



As to a cooking kit we had the usual array of camp 

 kettle, frying pan with a detachable handle for conveni- 

 ence of packing, coffee pot, two or three stew pans, ten 

 plates and cups, knives, forks and spoons, cup towels and 

 dish rags, for this individual, who was, by preference, the 

 cook, as the cook generally rules the roost in camp as else- 

 where, wants the dishes washed after every meal as spick 

 and span as would any woman at home. The cooking- 

 utensils are made to nest, so that with the table ware in- 

 side of them they occupy altogether about the same space 

 that would a common three-hoop bucket. 



All of the above were packed in a strong box, three feet 

 long and two feet wide, with a hinged fid, which when 

 thrown back and resting on a 1 irmly fixed peg or two made 

 an excellent table. This box is furnished with rope handles 

 at each end, so that it may be checked as baggage upon 

 the railroad. 



It is very easy to get along with much less than we have 

 enumerated above, but this party believes in having a 

 good time when it is out in the woods, where it does not 

 go to "rough it" but to smooth it, to take out the wrinkles, 

 placed there by the every-day cares of life. Therefore, it 

 looks well after the creature comforts. Those who prefer 

 to do otherwise may follow their bent; when we go out 

 and you call to see us in Raccoon Hollow or at Possum 

 Bend you can generally be pretty sure that we'll give you 

 a square meal. 



After the duffle conies the tackle. Well, each fellow 

 baa his joint pole, mine an old-time friend that has been 

 upon many a jaunt — ash butt and second and third joints, 

 with three or four laucewood tips. It is a little heavy at 

 the butt, maybe, but it is always there. The mayor has 

 a light, fancy little thing, pretty to look at and nic3 to 

 handle, but it came to grief as we shall narrate in the 

 proper place. Frank and Billy have substantial bamboo 

 rods, the boy a cheap but strong affair. In our ditty bags 

 we have all manner of fancy baits — flies, spoons, artificial 

 minnows, &c, but withal plenty of good, sound tackle, 

 with reels, some old, some new, but all sensible machines 

 not likely to get out of order. In my ditty bag I find, 

 besides, a neat little "housewife" containing needles and 

 thread, buttons, pins, &c, very convenient to have some- 

 times. Things that "when you want 'em at all you want 

 'em bad." Then there is a bottle of black staff— not a 

 black bottle of stuff, but just as I write it, a bottle of black 

 stuff — oil of pennyroyal, castor oil and tar. A coat of that 

 on the back of your hands, the middle of your forehead 

 and the end of your nose, will render them impervious 

 to the attacks of mosquitoes and black gnats. We bad 



