348 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Nov. 94, 1887. 



s parkled and glittered, and whirled oiir boats along at 

 times as if they had been toys. We went into Camp Alex 

 rather late, npon the left bank of the stream, by the side 

 of a country road. As we were getting things into shape 

 an old lady passed on horseback with whom we ex- 

 changed compliments, the result of which was that after 

 supper her son-in-law, Mr, Elias Riddle, his friend, a 

 deputy sheriff of Pulaski county, and two young gentle- 

 men called on us at our camp. Mr. Riddle is a substan- 

 tial farmer who resides near by. He and his party were 

 very polite to us and gave us all the information in their 

 power. They told us that the vicinity had once been full 

 of game, and that deer had been killed not far away the 

 day before, but that game of all kinds was much scarcer 

 than it was a few years ago. We suggested that the 

 enforcement of the game laws might do good in this 

 respect, but we found that Mr. Riddle did not take very 

 kindly either to game or fish laws. We had observed 

 along the river a large number of basket nets or traps, 

 say from 5 to 8ft. long — most deadly contrivances at some 

 seasons of the year, and clearly in violation of the fish 

 law. Mr. Riddle did not see any special harm in using 

 these traps, though he bad admitted that they had been 

 the means of pretty nearly exterminating the blue cat of 

 tbis river, one of the handsomest and gamest of fish, and 

 an excellent one on the table. He informed us that there 

 were a good many jack salmon in the Gasconade, beside 

 catfish, red horse, buffalo and bass. And he told us of a 

 wonderful animal which he called a water puppy, much 

 like the young of the canine, which frequently gets 

 caught upon trot and other lines, and is a slimy and dis- 

 gusting object, besides being a vicious fighter. He ex- 

 plained to us the modus operandi of jigging fish, when 

 the river is low in winter, and the fish lie in the deep 

 stretches between the rapids. At that time, the water 

 being perfectly clear and transparent, the fish maybe 

 seen very easily, and Mr. Riddle said it was "no trick at 

 all" for a man who knew how to jig, as he did, to kill his 

 sixteen or eighteen hundred pounds of fish a day. These 

 are readily marketed at the railroad. The cook of this 

 expedition had the honor to present in the Missouri Legis- 

 lature the law creating the State Fish Commission, and 

 providing severe penalties for the destruction of fish by 

 seines, nets, traps, weirs, or any other device in which to 

 catch fish, in any of the waters of the State, and hence 

 could not well be in sympathy with Mr. Riddle's views, 

 and he only now regrets that he did not manage to have 

 included in the law the obnoxious instruments of exter- 

 mination, the jig and spear. 



Mr. Riddle's friend, the deputy sheriff, surprised us a 

 little by recognizing our Scraps as a dog which he had 

 formerly owned. He said his real title was Dan, and he 

 gave him an excellent name barring the deafness, which 

 we ourselves had discovered to be his weakness. He 

 promised to take him off our hands in the morning, but 

 failed to put in an appearance in time, so Scraps still 

 continued in our company. As Mr. Riddle departed we 

 remembered that we had not inquired his name, so we 

 called after him for his patronymic. He turned his head 

 over his shoulder and hallooed back: "My name is Elias 

 Riddle — E-l-i-a-s, Elias; R-i-d-d-l-e, Riddle; and so he 

 sifted away in the gloom of the forest. 



The cook got sleepy early and went to bed, but Will, 

 Frank and Billy, who have a mechanical turn, amused 

 themselves making a fish box before they "turned in," as 

 it was becoming burdensome to lug our "fish after us in 

 live-nets and on strings. At last even the fish box was 

 conrpleted and quiet settled upon the camp, as Frank, the 

 last to seek his couch, contemplatively soliloquized, as he 

 hung by the tent pole gazing at the heavens: 



"I love night more than day— she is so lovely; 

 But 1 love night the most because she brings 

 My love to me in dreams which scarcely lie." 



'•You' better lie down and go to sleep, you incorrigible 

 old bachelor," said Will, "instead of star-gazing out 

 there, and quoting love-sick poetry. Don't you hear 

 Billy sawing gourds a'ready? You would better be snor- 

 ing, too." 



And very soon the deep bass of the senior bachelor was 

 added to the treble of the boy, and the various-sized frogs 

 paused to listen to a new-found rivalry, A. A. L. 



Lexington, Mo. 



WASHINGTON AS AN ANGLER. 



TT looks as if some wag were making light of George 

 JL Washington's character as an angler. Here is an 

 historical contribution to the New York Sun: 



I see a good many things traveling round in the col- 

 umns of newspapers relating to George Washington as a 

 fisherman , and as what follows relates to the same sub- 

 ject and never has been published, you may like to print 

 it. It is part of a letter written by Col. Cogswell, who 

 was one of the thirteen who, "dressed in the uniform of 

 Federal soldiers," rowed the barge bearing the immortal 

 Washington around Portsmouth harbor at the time of his 

 visit to New England in 1789. O. Odiorne. 



I had the high honor, with twelve others from neighbor- 

 ing towns, to be one who rowed the great red-white-and- 

 blue-stiiped barge around the harbor. Nature lent its best 

 day for the occasion, said our town poet, though the wind 

 came heavy out from the northeast before we got ashore 

 again. We left the little wharf amid the acclaim of hun- 

 dreds, who had stretched themselves, hand in hand, along 

 the shore to honor the greatest and most beloved of mortal 

 men. Old and young wept with joy and thankfulness as 

 they l ooked at their great deliverer. 



As Gen. Sullivan had proposed that we should pass over 

 our fishing ground in, our sail, hooks and lines were taken 

 with us. Col. Hackett and 1 dug the clams after we were 

 dressed in our uniforms, and it is fortunate we didn't dirty 

 ourselves, but we didn't. After we passed the line of towns- 

 people along the shore, in which I saw your Uncle Ebenezer 

 a-waving his hat and hallowing like mad, we struck off to 

 the Big Ledge and laid on our oars to fish. 'Squire Langdon 

 got in the. first line, as President Washington, God bless'him 

 and all of us, declined to let anybody bait his hook for him. 

 Gen. Sullivan didn't fish, as something of a swell came up 

 just as he had clammed his hook, and 'Squire Langdon 

 pulled in a windfiah, deprecating his luck as deacons do 

 when they don't catch anything. Washington then had a 

 jerk that almost upset the barge, and made a French officer 

 who had come with us dreadfully sick. But as soon as the 

 hook got unhitched from the rocks, it let go so suddenly 

 that Gen. Washington sat violently down, and upon the bait 

 pipkm, happily without injury. He smiled as he rose. 



The next fish was a polluk. Gen. Washington caught it. 

 1 here didn't seem to be any cod in the neighborhood. Mr. 

 JS ehenuan Stevens, of Boston, who managed the oar in front 

 of me, vowed aloud enough for all on board to hear him that 



he believed the music iu the boat that followed us, and laid 

 on their oars about a hundred feet asteiu , scared the fish, 

 and if it would stop a-playing we could catch something. It 

 seemed that Elnatha n Brown, who blowed the recorder, was 

 trying to attract the attention of the distinguished passenger 

 in our barge. He ought to have been spoken to before we 

 started, for I do believe that he really did frighten off all the 

 fish that were worth the bait. I was a little mistaken, how- 

 ever, for just as we were asked to resume our oars something 

 took the clam of Washington, and he lifted a half-pound 

 codfish into the boat, smiling as he took the barb out of its 

 ear. Was it not too bad that he didn't hook a halibut? 



So many- got sick that we had to head for Battery. Joe, 

 who was in the barge with the band, will tell you how he 

 fared. Every one of the musicians except Brown was puking 

 sick from the time we left the Ledge for Kittery till we 

 landed. I noticed that when President Washington bid us 

 adieu on the shore at Kittery, that one of his eyes was 

 bunged black and blue, and that he held his kerchief to it 

 most of the time. Prescott thinks he jabbed a corner of 

 Squire Langdon's hat into it when he was precipitated on 

 the bait pipkin. 



This letter was addressed to the wife of Col. Cogswell, 

 and is dated Portsmouth, Nov. 5, .1789. C. O. 



MAINE FISHING ABUSES. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I am glad to see that the "jigging" of big trout in the 

 Maine waters has at last been exposed, for this is one of 

 the reasons why the day for good fishing in the Rangeley 

 Lakes has gone by. A person reading your praiseworthy 

 expose would imagine that the parties mentioned were 

 alone guilty of the thing. Now let me whisper a little 

 truth into your right ear, Mr. Forest and Stream, which 

 is to wit: this business of wantonly murdering big trout 

 by "jigging" has been practiced for years at the Rangeley 

 Lakes to my certain knowledge. I have seen it done at 

 all hours of the day and at midnight by torchlight, but 

 always by residents of the vicinity or State. I don't 

 intend to champion anybody in this villainous business, 

 but I rather imagine the two individuals implicated in 

 your exposure were presented with this "racket" because 

 they were non-residents of the State. 



Three years ago I tossed my last fly on these beautiful 

 waters, where for fifteen years I had sojourned annually 

 for some weeks. Fishing had become disgustingly poor, 

 an example of which will be seen in the fact that during 

 September I cast flies morning, noon and night for thirteen 

 days without a solitary rise. Yes, fishing was poor, and 

 I knew the agencies that had made it so. " I had seen one 

 of these agencies practiced daily, and becoming disgusted 

 I quit those waters, and wrote a statement of the facts, 

 which were printed in the New York World on July 12, 

 1885, and in which the "jigging" process was exposed. 

 I said, "Two or three hooks of great size are fastened 

 together, forming a sort of grapnel, and with this deadly 

 implement fastened to a weighted line and pole, the big 

 trout are snatched from the water in the most cruel and 

 outrageous manner." 



These statements brought a long array of denials from 

 the lakes, but none of them were printed. Notably there 

 came one from a party who signed himself "Captain," 

 and is supposed to have' been head cowboy on a line of 

 steamers. He called me a sort of mammoth liar, but 

 with all his talk pi'oved nothing, for "go to" and "get 

 thee hence," I had told only the plain, silver-plated truth. 

 Yes sir, this "jigging" big trout has been "worked" for 

 years down there. I say big trout, because the butchers 

 will not or cannot "snake" the little ones of a pound or 

 two. I recall looking from my window one night about 

 12 o'clock and saw two men "jigging" by torch or jack 

 light, and I have wondered ever since if trout can be 

 attracted at night by a light. These men were in the 

 employ of the Union Water Power Co. , who control the 

 Androscoggin waters. I saw them lift a large one into 

 the boat, and then I shouted "You murderers." Instantly 

 the light went out, and I saw them no more. I mentioned 

 the affair to several people connected with the company, 

 but nothing further was heard of it. 



Shortly afterward I saw an alleged sportsman "jig" a 

 fish on the boom below the Upper Dam, and after nearly 

 an hour's play the fish was landed. It was a magnificent 

 61b. trout, and when I saw him an hour later there was a 

 cruel wound in his mottled side — the result of the 

 treacherous method by which he was killed. This piece of 

 Bcoundrelism was perpetrated in broad daylight, and 

 drove me away from these haunts of murder. I have 

 taken trout with worm or fly in nearly every quarter of 

 the globe where they exist, but never, save at the 

 Rangeley Lakes, have I seen them murdered in such a 

 manner. It could have been stopped years ago had the 

 authorities availed themselves of the facts given in my 

 letter to the New York papers— but they didn't. They 

 simply denied the facts that were absolutely true, and 

 laid low until strangers could be "held up" for an ex- 

 ample. 



I would like to ask why somebody don't rise up and tell 

 the truth about the illegal method used in taking the big 

 trout at the Upper Dam. It is said the fish weighed 111b?.. , 

 and to this day his picture fills a page in the guide books, 

 but somehow they fail to illustrate the method of his 

 capture. 



If the warden wants an interesting job why don't he in- 

 vestigate the well-authenticated incident of the 120ft. gill 

 net that was dropped into the narrows many a time and 

 oft hard by Portland Point. ' I heard of it often, and I 

 have no doubt some of the sturdy and honest guides — 

 men like Morse, Whitney, Sargeant, Brooks or Danforth 

 — could, did they feel disposed, tell its perfidious story. 

 The warden would find some further amusement if he 

 would occasionally "drop" upon one of the very many 

 spring-time marauders— the butchers who follow the dis- 

 appearing ice and with wicked "gangs" — more merciless 

 by far than any "jig"— deplete these once glorious fishing 

 waters, and boast of it afterward. 



I merely direct attention to these facts because I do not 

 like to see such an extraordinary display of official virtue 

 practiced upon two strangers, while the same deed they 

 perpetrated has been in steady operation for many years 

 by those who live "right thar," and not a word 'is ever 

 heard of it. 



In no place in the world could brook trout be found so 

 large as at the Rangeley Lakes. Four and five-pound fish 

 were common, and I have taken them on a silver-doctor 

 that weighed 7 and 81be. It is a shame and a disgrace 

 that so rare a repository should not have been managed 

 with more regard for the noble fish, not to say for the 

 pleastvre of sportsmen. Aside from the illegitimate meth- 



ods used, the honest fishing done there will soon empty 

 the range. It has been estimated that 1,000 visitors fish 

 these lakes each season. Suppose each takes out the 

 SOlbs. allowed by law we have a total of over fifty tons; 

 and this does not include the catch of the log drivers and 

 the numerous private camps. The above supposition is, 

 however, the fortune of but a few, and the 50-pound law. 

 I think, is in no danger of being broken by any man's 

 catch at present — fish are too scarce. 



One would imagine that the facts written here would 

 sufficiently account for the poor success fishermen now 

 meet at the lakes, but there is one more, far worse than 

 any mentioned and for which the Water Power Company 

 is responsible. The workingmen at the dams took the 

 trout in great numbers during autumn from the spawn- 

 ing beds, and every fish so taken means the destruction 

 of hundreds of thousands of their species. They were 

 speared by daylight and by torchlight; dynamite cart- 

 ridges were exploded in the water and the fish were cle- 

 stroved by wholesale. Mr. Straw, superintendent at 

 the Upper Dam, was told of these facts, but it seems he 

 did not trouble himself about them. 



The Oxford Club, on Rapid River, is closed up and the 

 club have leased grounds elsewhere. Forest Lodge is a 

 ruin. Portland Camp has long since disappeared, and 

 the Boston Club is little used now. Why? Well, prin- 

 cipally because fishing at the Rangeley Lakes is a thing 

 of the past, it is ruined, and nobody regrets it more than 



Kit Clarke, 



New York, Nov. 12. 



TROUTING ON THE PASSADUMKEAG. 



m. 



WE were awakened the next morning by Pettengill, 

 who told us that the morning was fine, and as the 

 day was likely to be a hot one, we must be ready to Start 

 by sunrise if we wished to travel with any degree of com- 

 fort. We had planned a trip of twelve miles up the Pas- 

 sadumkeag to the Upper Taylor Brook, intending to go 

 across from Maple Ridge to Spring Pond, and remain all 

 night in a lumberman's camp, which we were informed 

 we should find there. 



The object of this trip was to become more familiar 

 with the country, as well as to test the trout fishing at 

 the mouths of the several streams emptying into the Pas- 

 samdumkeag. We had noted quite a difference in the 

 color and flavor in the trout taken from the Pistol from 

 those taken from the main river, and we wished to deter- 

 mine if they were the same in the smaller streams, con- 

 sidered from the standpoint of edibility. We intended to 

 do our fishing on our up trip. 



Partaking of a hasty breakfast, we packed what articles 

 we should require in the batteaux, not forgetting to take 

 along the cubs also, as they were of too much import- 

 ance to be left to themselves: besides, having slain their 

 natural protector, we had, at it were, adopted them into 

 our family. 



We had a most delightful row for eight miles up the 

 river, stopping from time to time to try the trout in the 

 most favorable places. We passed Duck Stream, which 

 our guide informed us was a great resort for black ducks 

 in the fall, on account of the great abundance of wild 

 rye which grew Song its banks (I think the -wild rye 

 is much like the wild rice which grows so abundantly 

 along the Upper St. Lawrence). 



Just above the stream we surprised a doe with two 

 fawns at her side. Heald involuntarily raised his rifle as 

 the deer sprang to cover, and as quiclcfy lowered it again 

 as she came into full view. The fawns were beautifully 

 spotted with white and appeared to be four or five weeks 

 old. 



We cast our flies for a few moments at the mouth of 

 Spring Brook, and were surprised at not getting a rise. 

 This was indeed strange as the place seemed especially 

 favorable, the water being clear and cold, but there were 

 none there, for us, at least. 



We proceeded on to the mouth of the Lower Taylor, 

 where Heald shot the bear, and examined the place with 

 considerable interest, as we listened again to the Doctor's 

 account of the adventure. Here we found the trout very 

 abundant and beautifully spotted, and almost as light as 

 silver in color, of the average size, varying but little from 

 three-fourths of a pound. Here we intended to go across 

 to Spring Lake; but after going a short distance we found 

 the trail rough and obscure and the older members of our 

 party declared it a failure; and we decided to go back to 

 the boats and continue our trip up river to the Upper 

 Taylor and return to camp that night. Reaching the 

 mouth of the stream we disembarked, and as it had be- 

 come very warm, and each of us having taken a turn 

 with the oars, we were inclined to rest, for we had found 

 the current quite strong in several places, which made 

 vigorous pulling necessary. We had rowed twelve miles 

 in seven hours, including the stops, and although we had 

 enjoyed every moment of the time, we were, as the 

 Doctor expressed it, "beat out." 



Pettengdl and Lord soon prepared a dinner for us which 

 made us feel sorry for our friends at home, who were 

 restricted to home fare, and thank our stars we were 

 here. After resting for a couple of hours, we began our 

 return voyage, which was uneventful, save the killing of 

 a fine specimen of the great gray owl (Syiviium einereum), 

 the only specimen I have ever seen alive, and a pair of 

 pileated woodpeckers, the latter of which seemed to be 

 quite abundant in the vicinity of Maple Ridge. Stevens 

 was much elated at receiving the birds as a present, and 

 at once prepared their skins for mounting. 



Our trip down the river was as pleasant to the sight as 

 it had been going up, and vastly more agreeable, as we 

 had little pulling to do, the current favoring us. We 

 reached camp at 7 o'clock, feeling that we had accom- 

 plished a day's work that would count to our advantage 

 in the future. 



The next morning we decided to break camp and start 

 for home, determining to stop at Enfield for a day if possi- 

 ble and try the togue and trout in Cold Streem pond. 



Reaching Enfield we chartered the little steamer Fairy, 

 owned and commanded by Mr. Treat, whom we found to 

 be the right sort of a man to fall in with, and disposed to 

 take us where we could find good fishing and enjoying it 

 with us. We went to the east inlet where we success- 

 fully landed seven trout, that w r eighed in the aggregate 

 211bs., and three togue the largest of which tipped the 

 scale at 141bs. 



We left the fishing grounds with great reluctance. 

 Our trip had been full of enjoyment from the start, and 



