Nov. 34, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



347 



our quarters at the Belvidere Hotel. We found the host 

 accommodating, the table excellent, and the rooms com- 

 fortable, with the exception that, owing to the absence of 

 chimneys, and means for heating other than the dining 

 room and hall, it would have been rather trying at that 

 .season for ladies and children to stand the temperature. 

 You will remember that one of my objects in making the 

 trip was to find a place where I could take my family, 

 and find good fishing or shooting near by. I think I have 

 succeeded, and as the hotel people talk encouragingly of 

 "warm rooms next year," we are already looking forward 

 to a repetition of our visit, when our stay will be a more 

 extended one, and we can proceed more tmderstandingly. 



Our fishing was mostly done in Mill Lake and the 

 Seguin River, and we were rewarded for our efforts by 

 the capture of a fair amount of fine bass, not large, as 

 they averaged abaut 21bs. each, but splendid fighters, full 

 of pluck and strength, and we also secured some moder- 

 ate sized pike and pickerel. To come down to figures we 

 caught the first day 341bs. of black bass (not to mention 

 other fish), the largest of which weighed 3£lbs., and I 

 did all the fishing, my companion obtaining some very 

 good views of the lakeland river. We did not fish early, 

 nor late, just took it easily, and had several days of it, 

 with results similar to those of the first day, although at 

 no time did we exceed the first day's catch. On our last 

 day, as I was fishing at a narrow part of the river, we 

 were interviewed by a bear and cub, which came down the 

 hillside to the water's edge presumably to drink. They 

 were within 150ft. of us and seemed ito take very little 

 notice of us, although Ave talked loud enough to be heard. 

 Af ter getting a good look at us they turned to go, and I 

 could not resist the temptation to tickle the old lady with 

 a charge of bird shot (we unfortunately had no rifle with 

 us), and upon doing so they both made off at a good rate 

 through the brush. 



While we were at Parry Sound we met two gentlemen 

 who had been camping on Moon River for a couple of 

 weeks and fishing Crane and Blackstone lakes. This, I 

 imagine from your letters, is your "stamping ground." 

 They reported excellent luck and the successful landing of 

 a 201bs. muscalonge with an 8iz, trout rod. 



We left Parry Sound on Saturday, drove over to Ros- 

 seau, passing nine beautiful lakes during the ride of 

 twenty-four miles, and remained at Rosseau over Hun- 

 day. Leaving there Monday morning we enjoyed the 

 lovely scenery of lakes Rosseau and Muskoka, the varied 

 hues of autumn foliage to be seen on all sides adding 

 greatly to its usual beauty, and at noon reached Graven- 

 hurst, there taking the train for Toronto. 



The next day we reached home well satisfied with our 

 trip and both enthusiastic over Parry Sound and its en- 

 virons. The Muskoka Lakes, while all that could be de- 

 sired as to scenery, etc., have of late been overcrowded, 

 as we learned, and we found the accommodations at Parry 

 Sound superior in many respects, while the scenery is 

 equal to Muskoka and the fishing better. 



We had no fly-fishing. Bait was used, the worm being 

 the staple article: and as they are scarce in the Muskoka 

 region and command 10 cents per dozen, it is well to fol- 

 low the advice which was given me before going, but 

 was not heeded, viz., to "take a gallon of worms along." 



ON THE GASCONADE.-III. 



\\7 E went into Camp Morrison, the firet camp on the 

 m right bank of the river. Good place to camp; 

 beautiful cove for the boats, just as if made a purpose; 

 big trees all about; good place for tent, not under any 

 tree; had a fine fish supper. Down wood plentiful. After 

 supper we built up an old-fashioned army fire, and then 

 we Uad our usual conversazione. 



The boys are in fine feather. They have enjoyed the 

 day, and they have a great deal to say of different things 

 of interest which they nave noted, and particularly of the 

 narrow escape of the crew of the big boat from a ducking. 



"We came pretty near getting spilled out, sure," said 

 Prank. "But I wasn't scared as I was the time Alex and 

 I were caught in a storm on the Missouri River in his tin 

 boat. Will remembers it, too; he was in a larger boat 

 with us at the time. We had all been up to Willow 

 Creek fishing and had started back home. The river was 

 high and very wide then opposite the mouth of the creek. 

 Just as we came out of the creek a squall struck us, it 

 suddenly got as dark as night, the wind was blowing up 

 the river and raised tremendous waves, and they were 

 choppy and irregular. Alex was rowing and I was" sitting 

 in the stern of the boat, which was a little tin, sectional 

 thing, belonging to a fishing club, with sides about Sin. 

 high. The more we got out into the river the bigger the 

 waves got and the harder the wind blew. The big boat 

 •struck out for home by the shortest route. We tried to 

 do the same thing, but soon found that we were shipping 

 so much water that we had to face the wind and waves, 

 which took us across the river rather above Lexington. 

 Every time a wave would strike the boat, ker-flop! it felt 

 as if it was going to stave her in, and, some way, I'd rise 

 in the boat as if that would help her over. When we got 

 .about half-way home I wouldn't have given fifteen cents 

 for our chance of ever getting there, but if she was small 

 she was buoyant, and though the waves slapped her 

 pretty hard, she always raised over them, and at last we 

 touched the shore, just above the eddy, to take a rest 

 before pulling in to the landing. Maybe I wasn't glad to 

 get to land! I tell you the old Missouri won't do to fool 

 with! When it gets mad it is the worst river on earth. 

 No one can appreciate the force of its current until he 

 tries to contend with it, and when a heavy wind and the 

 current get at war with each other they kick up a lively 

 sea." 



"That's so," said Will. "I've had many a narrow 

 escape from a ducking in it, if not worse. But talking 

 of duckings, the best thing in that line happened when 



John — , Phil. and myself went down to Baltimore 



bar one winter. It was on the seventh of December and 

 cold. There was a skim of ice near the shore and the 

 water would chill a man to the marrow in two seconds. 

 As we were going down to the river a friend of ours pre- 

 sented us with a quart bottle of splendid old blackberry 

 brandy. It tasted so mild and nice that the boys touched 

 it pretty freely, and it began to tell on them. First John 

 got sleepy and laid in his oars and went to sleep in the 

 stern of the skiff. Then Phil, who was in the bow, did 

 the same thing. That left me to row by myself, but as 

 it was down stream and easy pulling, I didn't mind it. 

 By this time it was getting quite dark. I took a steady 

 stroke, and we were going at a lively rate, pretty near 



the bank, when all at once I ran upon a snag. The boat 

 tilted up a little, and I hallooed at the boys to get up and 

 help me. John waked up first, and being somewhat 

 dazed, he thought we had reached the bar and run 

 against it, causing the jar to the boat, so he yelled out, 



"You Phil, why in the don't you jump out and pull 



the boat on the bar!" Phil, awakened suddenly from a 

 dense sleep, took him at his word and jumped out of the 

 boat in 30ft. of the coldest water you ever saw. You 

 know how fat he is; he couldn't stay under water long if 

 he tried, so in two or three seconds up he popped ..puffing 

 and blowing like a distressed porpoise, and after some 

 effort got to the boat. As he rested his capacious broad- 

 basket on the gunwale, he looked reproachfully at John 

 and said, in the most doleful tone imaginable, with his 

 teeth rattling like castanets, "W-e-1-1, y-o-u p-l-a-y-e-d 

 t-h-u-n-d-e-r, d-i-d-n't y-o-u!" If the salvation of the 

 crew had depended on it I couldn't have helped it; I threw 

 myself down in the bottom of the boat and laughed till 

 the tears ran down my face. Phil finally crawled into 

 the skiff, and we went on down to our destination, with 

 no effects of blackberry brandy visible on any of us. 

 The n&xt day we caught, in the pockets around Baltimore 

 Bar, 3,6001bs. of fish, mostly buffalo." 



"That reminds me," said the cook, "cf a ducking I got 

 once in Cowskin River. The name is not poetical nor 

 euphonious, but the river itself is beautiful. It runs 

 through McDonald, the southwest corner county of Mis- 

 souri. We camped near its banks in 18(31, as Will and 

 Frank remember. My first experience with the stream 

 was when I went to bathe in it one day. When I got 

 ready to leap in I looked off the bank which was 3 or 4ft. 

 high and nearly perpendicular, and the water seemed to 

 be about 3 or 4ft. deep, so I made an easy jump, feet first, 

 expecting to bring up about waist deep. The next thing 

 I knew I was going down, down, down, and before my 

 feet touched the bottom there must have been 5 or (if t. of 

 water between my head and the top. The water was as 

 clear as crystal and 10 or 12ft. deep. One day tlillogly, 

 Salmon, Kinsella, myself, and and one or two other of 

 Kelley's old company , in walking down the stream ob- 

 serve;!, a stretch of about three-quarters of a mile of rapids 

 — lively ones at that, regular boiling, rip-roaring rapids. 

 We had seen a big canoe chained to the bank a short, dis- 

 tance above, and some one proposed that we go back, get 

 into it, and shoot the rapids. No sooner suggested than 

 acted on. Anything would do for a lark in those days. 

 We worked the old canoe loose in some way, and got in. 

 It was 20ft. long, I reckon, and we did not make much 

 of a load. Gillogly got in the bow and I in the stern to 

 steer. It was not long until we were in the rapids, and 

 when we got fairly under their influence our big cJhoe 

 did not seem to be more than a feather. We were swung 

 from one side to the other as a rivulet would toss a straw. 

 Once or twice we came near broaching to, but by vigor- 

 ous yelling at each other and superhuman exertion we 

 managed to keep 'end on.' All this in a minute or so of 

 time. We hadn't more than half made the run before we 

 came to grief. The stern of the canoe swung in toward 

 the right bank, and as I was working with all my might 

 to throw it out in the stream I failed to notice an over- 

 hanging limb of a tree that reached nearly to the water. 

 When we came to it, it swept me out of the canoe pretty 

 much as one might brush a fly off the corner of a table. 

 I never felt as light in my life as I did while in that 

 water. It tossed me about as if I had been a cork. For- 

 tunately I didn't strike any rocks, nor strangle when I 

 was turned over and over by the. tumbling waters. I got 

 to the bank pretty quickly, and when I did it was to see 

 the canoe, about 100yds. below, a total wreck. When I 

 went out control of the thing was entirely lost, and com- 

 ing to a long log extending over the water the end of the 

 canoe went under it, became fast, the other end swung 

 around in the stream and the craft broke In two, spilling 

 its whole load about as unceremoniously as it had dumped 

 me. I believe my loss by the accident was the most 

 serious. I had taken off my coat, containing my pipe 

 and tobacco, my shoes and stockings, none of which we're 

 recovered. This was pretty severe, as I had never gone 

 barefooted in my life, and the road to camp was covered 

 with flinty rocks. However, I managed to get back. 

 The next day the owner of the canoe came into camp 

 and demanded payment. Six dollars, I think, was the 

 value he placed on his primitive gondola. We convinced 

 him that in its old and tender condition it wasn't worth 

 the money, and compromised on the payment of two or 

 three dollars. We had many a good laugh over the ad- 

 venture, afterward, but while it was 'a-happening' it 

 wasn't very funny." 



Two or three more ducking stories were told, when we 

 all got sleepy and Went to bed. 



Morning on the Gasconade. Very early morning. The 

 gray of daybreak just perceptible. The cook is up first 

 looking at the weather-signs. A dense fog covers the 

 surface of the waters. The boats, but a few steps away, 

 are barely visible riding lightly in their little cove. 

 Scraps raises his head and looks for a sign. Poor fellow, 

 he cannot hear. The cook pokes his head in at the tent 

 door, and with a yell that might have been heard a half 

 mile, hails the boys with, "Hey, you fellows, going on to 

 noon! What are you sleeping your senses away like that 

 for? Turn out and let's be moving!" Pretty soon a good 

 fire is crackling away, the coffee is made, a dish of some- 

 thing piping hot is prepared, and breakfast is ready. In 

 the mean time the tent has been struck and the bedding- 

 tied up. So we enjoy our breakfast comfortably and leis- 

 urely, and still get afloat before the fog has raised. Take 

 it all together this was the red-letter day of our trip. 

 The fog soon dispersed, giving place to a gloriously bright 

 sunshine, which away from the fire was necessary for 

 comfort. Ten or twelve miles of the river were passed 

 over, the scenery of which was lovely, and the rapids 

 were among the prettiest and most exciting we had seen. 

 After fishing a while the cook concluded to try for some 

 turkeys and accordingly was landed on the left bank of 

 the river at the foot of a wild and rugged looking moun- 

 tain. He had't walked far until he realized that the 

 chances were slim. The ground was covered \vith dead 

 leaves, big, round, dry, stiff leaves, as they are early in. 

 the autumn, moving through which in silence is a matter 

 of impossibility. There was only one thing for it, to try 

 the art of "sitting on a log." There are grand possibilities 

 in this "art" when it is patiently practiced in likely places 

 for game. I had not been seated long in a leafy little 

 bower, partly natural and partly constructed with two or 

 three oak sprouts, until I heard on an opposite hill a short 

 distance away, the gobble of a turkey cock and the tender 



response of the hen, the old, old, old story being repeated 

 here under the green and leafy canopies of the grand old 

 forest trees, the wooing of the male and the shy response 

 of the love-smitten mate. Presently there seemed from 

 the gobbling, strutting and scratching to be several of the 

 wary, lithe and nimble creatures in tho party. I could 

 hear them plainly, but I could not see them. I was 

 afraid to move, for the least noise in those rustling leaves 

 would have sent them scurrying away in the silent, yet 

 long and effective stride for which they are noted. With 

 my gun at full cock lying in my lap, peering out from 

 amia the oak leaves, i waited patiently to get a shot, 

 though I knew it wotild be a long one. For some 

 minutes, they seemed long to me, I continued to hear the 

 gobbling, clucking, scratching, but finally it died away 

 in the distance without my getting a glimpse of the tur- 

 keys. I patiently waited for them to stroll back my way, 

 but they did't come, and though I was among good squir- 

 rel timber I did not catch even a glimpse of a curly tail, 

 so after a while I made my way back to the river, with- 

 out game, but with an experience that had put the woods 

 fever to coursing through my veins. Aber was icollen sief 

 the day's run of the river' had to be made and I had to 

 give it up. 



When I got to the river I found that Will had paddled 

 on before, and I took passage in the big boat to overtake 

 him and resume my place. When we got within hailing 

 distance of him Will began to pantomime, which every 

 fisherman understands. He motioned to us "to take sur- 

 roundings" and to come to his boat from down the stream, 

 as in a certain place he was catching fish. Of course we 

 obeyed, and coming softly from below I transferred my- 

 self from one boat to the other as noiselessly as a moo- 

 casined foot wou'd walk over a soft grass plot. The other 

 boys silently floated away, and then I had leisure to look 

 at my friend Willum, and he presented a picture. It 

 seems when he reached this point be observed a pool, just 

 above the roots of an overturned tree lying embedded in 

 the stream, and he concluded to make a cast there. He 

 quietly dropped out an anchor, one of which was ready in 

 either end of the boat, and made his cast. No sooner had 

 his minnow settled in the water than his float disappeared, 

 and striking he felt himself fast to a lively bass. His 

 slight rod bent, and his line whistled through the water- 

 as he checked his fish because of the proximity of the tree 

 roots. Then away it went toward the middle of the 

 stream, and his Kentucky reel whizzed as the line flew 

 out. Then up the stream he goes until snubbed by a touch 

 of the butt, when the fine is rapidly retrieved as it slackens 

 and the fish comes gradually back toward the boat. 

 Quicker than thought it darts again for the shelter of the 

 tree roots, the line swishes through the water, and the 

 rod bends nearly to the hand as it meets the strain. He 

 must be stopped, or good-bye to line and hook and fish! 

 But he is stopped. It was almost his last effort. Drawn 

 by the rod out toward the stream he makes one dart for 

 the bottom of the boat but is brought up stiffly, another 

 for his old refuge, but again he is stopped, and then at last 

 he submits to being drawn o^er the landing net and is 

 lifted into the boat as game and beautiful a fish as one 

 would wish to see, a small-mouthed black bass, not as 

 heavy-bodied as we have seen, but some 15in. in length. 

 This is not, perhaps, that poetry of fishing where there is 

 deep water all around and the fish may be killed by the 

 reel, with an occasional touch of the tip of the rod, but it 

 is more exciting and requires more skill and dexterity. 



The minnow has passed through the battle uninjured, 

 and once more is cast into the pool. Again the float dis- 

 appears, and a strike fastens the hook in the jaws of a 

 fish, and the same fight is fought over again. It ends as 

 before, and after a battle royal the bass is landed. A 

 fresh minnow is impaled and a third and a forth bass are 

 added to the creel. Then comes the event. Having 

 struck the fifth fish it proved to be a fighter. It tried 

 every stratagem known to the finny tribe to shake itself 

 free from the stinging steel from its jaw. It flew up the 

 river, then down. It leaped from the water and tried to 

 shake the hook from its mouth. It doubled back toward 

 the tree. Snubbed in that direction it darted back for 

 deep water again, only to turn suddenly and fly toward 

 the boat. The line cut the water like a knife; the rod 

 bent again nearly "to the fisherman's hand; the strain was 

 immense; it seemed to check the fish, and Will thought it 

 was giving to the steady tension, but it seemed that it 

 had merely steadied itself for a supreme effort; it churned 

 the top of the water as it took a new start, and— the rod 

 snapped in two about five feet from the tip. Here an 

 amateur would have been lost, but Will is a veteran. He 

 seized the line and succeeded in recovering the five-foot 

 tip of the rod, just as it was about to disappear under the 

 boat, and as good luck would have it in checking his fish, 

 which had evidently stopped when it reached shelter. 

 Then by persuasion and humoring he at last got it out 

 into the pool, and by drawhig it first in one direction 

 and then the other he finally wore it out and brought it 

 to the landing net, the king of the expedition, measuring 

 seventeen inches in length, but slender and not weighing 

 over four pounds. The breaking of the rod was a catas- 

 trophy, of course, but the capture of that fish was a vic- 

 tory sufficiently glorious to compensate for many losses. 

 Will was in no sense discouraged. He fished on with his 

 five-foot pole, and if he had hooked another prince of the 

 pool would have given him a "powerful good fight." It 

 was at this time that I came in sight, and the. picture I 

 alluded to was Will, squatted down in the stern of the 

 boat, fishing for small-mouthed black bass, the gamest fish 

 of our waters, with five feet of rod a quarter of an inch 

 in diameter. "Allee samee," as the Chinaman would say, 

 the "Melican man" didn't give up, and after I reached him 

 he managed in some way, though not without many a 

 struggle and narrow escape from discomfiture, in making 

 his catch in that pool number fifteen. I caught two or 

 three on my side of the boat, and we moved on. In de- 

 scribing our tackle at the outset I stated that the pretty rod 

 came to grief, and I have told you the story of its disaster. 



After leaving this place the cook killed a few ducks as 

 they flew over, and as Billy had killed a few in the morn- 

 ing and one squirrel, there was material on hand for a 

 burgoo. 



The day's journey was through enchanting scenery. 

 The mountains upon either side, sometimes upon both 

 sides at once, were mostly precipitous, and the rocks of 

 different strata and hues presented exquisite blendings of 

 form and color. When the hills rose upon both sides of 

 the river beautiful vistas woidd sometimes be formed, 

 with the light almost shut out overhead, but appearing 

 far in the distance. The rapids, which were frequent, 



