Deg. 1, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



367 



we tried to pass her in a square pull in open water and 

 failed. The oars gave too great a leverage, and we found 

 that the paddles Svere no match for them, so making a 

 virtue of necessity we left the three gentlemen and their 

 canine companion forge to the front. In a little while 

 the river seemed to separate into two streams and the big 

 boat took the rigid. Standing up and taking a good view 

 I said to AVill, ''Now is the time for our revenge. They 

 have taken the wrong way and the true course is to the 

 left." No sooner said than the paddles were hard at it. 

 Away we flew, the rapids becoming stronger and stronger. 

 After going about a half mile we espy our comrades in 

 the other stream and we yell with delight at having 

 passed them in the swifter water of our side, with no 

 idea, however, that they are in a cul de sac, but just then 

 we perceive that their chute ends abruptly in a gravel 

 bar, and that to get into the stream proper they will have 

 to make a considerable carry, which, with their heavy 

 boat and still heavier load is no light matter. Then we 

 fairly roll over and howl and halloo for joy, and the 

 other fellows, who do not realize their situation, think 

 we are a pair of maniacs. Pretty soon they see it and 

 the ch'cumambient air in their vicinity becomes blue and 

 red, and streaked and striped, from the sulphurousness 

 of the epithets which are hurled at that bar, and indi- 

 rectly at the lunatics in the other boat, whose sides have 

 become sore from laughing. They cease cue— firing, and 

 contempla te the situation, aad finally conclude to unload 

 and carry, which they proceed laboriously to do. The 

 mess chest is taken out high and dry, the bed clothes, 

 tent, gun, rod, live nets, etc., etc., are piled upon it, and 

 then with many a grunt and groan the boat is pulled and 

 hauled over the bar and into the water. The duffle is re- 

 placed and then the gentlemen vividly realize the philos- 

 ophy which underlies the superiority of water over land 

 for the transportation of freights. 



Near the scene of the above incident we passed a saw- 

 mill on the left and the biggest spring, welling right up 

 out of the bottom of the river, near the right bank, that 

 any of us had ever seen. It is a perfect wonder. Coming 

 from a depth unf athomable by any device we have at 

 hand, it rises to the surface in three streams that come 

 with such force that if one of the boats is rowed upon it 

 it immediately recedes in some direction. After gazing 

 at the phenomenon for some time in astonishment and 

 awe we came to the conclusion that there is water enough 

 poured from the cavernous throat of that wonderful 

 fountain, if it could be properly utilized, to furnish motive 

 ppwer to turn all of the machinery in the State of Mis- 

 souri. It is said to be a great place in which to murder 

 fish in winter. The spring and the river some distance 

 from it never freeze, and the locality is therefore sought 

 by thousands of fish which fall as prey to the jiggers and 

 other pot-fishers. 



We went into camp on the left bank of the river early, 

 about 3 o'clock. Will and Frank took one of the boats 

 and hied them away after bass. Billy, the boy and I, 

 amused ourselves for a time shooting at a mark with the 

 rifle, when Bflly concluded he would go out and find a 

 few scpiirrels. When left to ourselves the boy and I con- 

 cluded to take a bath in the glorious river shining before 

 us in the sun, and though it was October so balmy was 

 the weather and genial the water, that it proved a real 

 luxury. As we were arraying ourselves after our plunge 

 in the river a long raft of railroad ties passed us, floating 

 on down to the railroad at Arlington, engineered by five 

 or six long, lank-looking specimens of the genus homo, 

 ostensibly clad, but whose combined wardrobe would not 

 have sold at an old junk shop for thu-ty-five cents in cash. 

 They observed Will and Frank in the boat and the boy 

 and me as they passed, and Bflly, who was hid behind a 

 tree some distance down the river, heard them talking 

 together about "them damned dudes" they had just 

 passed. Dudes! Great Jehosophat, I wish you could 

 have seen us! What an eye for dudes those fellows must 

 have had. Frank had on an old gray coat that looked as 

 if it might have been a veteran of two wars, a flannel 

 shirt, a pair of ancient though warm and comfortable 

 pantaloons, and an old slouch hat that once was black 

 but now was gray. Will and I were similarly clad, with 

 our pantaloons stuck in our boots, and the lad's mother 

 had seen to it that he wore nothing on the trip that could 

 be worsted by it. The men of us had not shaven for over 

 a week, and were generally pretty rough-looking dia- 

 monds, we shovdd have said; but these poor "raft bodies," 

 as a Scotchman w^ould say, took us to be dudes! In think- 

 ing over this grievous wrong done to us the only justifi- 

 cation I could see for it was in Frank's spectacles. The 

 creatine can't see 40ft. without them, and no doubt the 

 raftsmen concluded therefrom that he was a dude, and, 

 as birds of a feather flock together, that the rest of us 

 were also dudes. My youthful readers will see from this 

 how careful they should always be in selecting their 

 company. 



At an early hour we had a splendid bass supper, with 

 all the etceteras that our larder afforded, as the jaunt be- 

 ing nearly over economy was no longer partiuclarly neces- 

 sary. Our camp was a very pleasant and cosy one, and 

 when everything was "to rights" for the night we natur- 

 ally fell into a talk about our experiences of the past few 

 days. As usual in such cases we found that our "hind- 

 sight" was more accurate than our "foresight," and, de- 

 spite our familiarity with bass fishing in other waters, 

 that we had learned by experience something about bass 

 fishing in the Gasconade. All streams have their pecu- 

 liarities and this one is no exception. Now with us the 

 orthodox way to fish for bass is with a float, and a live 

 minnow at a depth of 18in. to 2ft., even where the water 

 is much deeper. Occasionally a fancy angler will try a 

 fly, or skittering with a spoon, but the regular, steady 

 thing is what we have described. This don't seem to work 

 in the Gasconade late in the autumn. At that time the 

 bass, which we asserted at the beginning to be the most 

 capricious of fish, has followed the catfish to the bottom, 

 where he is feeding not on minnows, but upon crawfish. 

 This we very soon discovered by dissection of the fish we 

 caught. Not one of them had* a minnow in its stomach 

 and nearly every one had more or less crawfish. The fish 

 are to be found in what in local parlance is called the 

 "holes," that is, the long reaches of deep water between 

 the rapids, and generally toward the upper end of these, 

 and upon rocky or sandy bottoms. These "holes" are 

 from 10 to 12ft. deep, sometimes more, not often less, and 

 in fishing them a float is of no particular benefit. What 

 is needed is 150 or 200ft. of fine sea grass or linen line on 

 a good, plain, simple reel, and a handy, light rod. The 

 hook, a number 2 or 3 O'Shaughnessy or Limerick, should 



be tied to a single gut, and the rig would better be a little 

 too light than too heavy. It is quite remarkable how big 

 a fish you can handle with a light line, especially when 

 you use. a landing net, and do not have to lift your fish out 

 of the water. The delicate line does better work and 

 catches the most fish, as the small-mouthed black bass is 

 as skittish as a red deer or a wild turkey. Insert your 

 hook from below through the tail of your crawfish, get- 

 ting a good hold, and carefully and without noise make 

 your cast as far from the boat as possible. Let it settle to 

 the bottom, and move your line gently every minute or 

 two until it is brought close enough to necessitate another 

 cast, which make in another direction. But whatever 

 else you do be quiet. Don't stand up, don't strike the boat 

 with the oars, as that kind of concussion scares the fish 

 away very quickly, and if you have a talking partner put 

 him ashore and go it alone. If it is convenient it is bet- 

 ter when you hook a big fellow and see that you have a 

 stiff fight before you to row away and tow liim ovrt of your 

 fishing wafer for the final battle, but singularly enough 

 the fish sefem to be less alarmed by then struggling brother 

 than by a much smaller racket in another way. A dark 

 or partially cloudy day, with a breeze from the south or 

 west, is the best, and those who ought to know say it is 

 almost useless to fish for small-mouth black bass on a per- 

 fectly still, bright sunslnny day. The bait should be al- 

 lowed to rest on the bottom, as it is there that the fish 

 naturally looks for it. Some bass may be taken, even in 

 the fall months, with minnows, and even with the red 

 worm, or with small frogs, but after the water becomes a 

 little cold and the bass seeks the deeper places, the most 

 killing bait is unquestionably the crawfish. If we had 

 known all this earlier in our trip we should have caught 

 more fish, probably, but Ave got a plenty as it was, and we 

 could not have had a better time; and the late autumn is 

 certainly the grandest season, of all the year for an 

 outing. 



So we talked over what we had learned and wliat we 

 had enjoyed until somewhat later than usual, and at last 

 went reluctantly to bed in our last camp upon the Gas- 

 conade, after an experience with it irnmarked by one 

 untoward accident or an hour's disagreeable weather. 



The next morning we reached Arlington at 10 o'clock, 

 our train being due a little after noon. We returned the 

 boats to their owner at Jerome, on the opposite side of the 

 river, with a present of a number of catfish, which he 

 seemed to appreciate very highly. At Arlington we 

 found the general merchandise store of Mr. Pillman, and 

 a very well supplied one, to contain the post office, which 

 was presided over by a very pretty and intelligent young 

 lady. Our trunk— Frank's* and mine — with our civilized 

 clothes in it, was there, and Mr. Rogers, the clerk, politely 

 permitted us to use the warehouse as a toilet room. 

 Arriving in top boots, slouch hats, rough clothes, unshaven 

 faces and with a decided cowboy appearance, when we 

 emerged with smooth chins, "biled" shirts, fairly cut 

 clothes, derby hats and polished boots, the transforma- 

 tion drew an 'exclamation of surprise — not from the young 

 lady ; no, we are not quite so soft as that on this occasion, 

 but from the old gentleman, Mr. Rogers. And, after all, 

 it felt good once more to get into civilized togs. Clothes 

 do not make the man , by no manner of means, but they 

 add most decidedly to his comfort and satisfaction. 



We had several little experiences on the way home that 

 might do to relate, but this yarn has been spun out long 

 enough. In due time our train came along, and our 

 bachelors tore themselves away from the contemplation 

 of the sweet young lady at the store, and we hurriedly 

 got aboard. Just after we did so we became aware that 

 Scraps liad also come aboard, and it became necessary to 

 have him ejected from the car. We had previously made 

 arrangements for his adoption by a very decent and 

 humane-looking man whom we met in the village. Poor 

 fellow! Faithful friend! He had known us only a few 

 days, but he loved and did not want to leave us. If we 

 had had but another minute to reflect after this touching 

 scene, we should never have left him, but the train was 

 off and so w r e were separated from him. Good-bye, 

 Scraps, old fellow! May your lines have fallen in pleas- 

 ant places. And so, with tne hope that my readers may 

 think none the worse of us at the end by reason of the 

 love of this poor brute, I wish them all adieu until I have 

 another story to tell them of the mountain and the valley, 

 the river and the wood. Farewell. A. A. L. 



Izaak Walton's Business.— In these days, when so 

 many cherished traditions are questioned, from the exist- 

 ence of William Tell to the authorship of Shakespeare, 

 we are not surprised to find a writer in the London Field 

 trying to overthrow the long accepted belief that Izaak 

 Walton was a hosier and linendraper. He says: "Mr. 

 J. M. Cowper's interesting contribution, a copy of the 

 license of Walton's first marriage, published in the Field 

 of the 29th ult., has drawn attention to the business or 

 trade followed by the 'father of anglers,' the particulars 

 of which have never, to my mind, been quite satisfactory. 

 So far as I can make out, prior to 1844, and even up to 

 the present time in most quarters, Walton was, or is 

 understood to have been, a hosier or linendraper, but any 

 direct proof of such being absolutely the fact has not yet 

 been forthcoming. He had occupied a shop in connection 

 with one John Mason, who was a hosier or linendraper , near 

 Chancery lane; but because Mason was engaged in such 

 a business is no reason why Walton should be so. The 

 portion of the shop occupied by the latter might have 

 been used for any purpose whatever, and I am aware of 

 no other reason than this joint occupancy why common 

 report has made Walton a hosier or linendraper. Now, 

 in Major's edition, 1844, a note appears for the first time 

 that during 1617-18 Izaak Walton was made a member of 

 the Ironmongers' Company. Of course it is possible that 

 any tradesman of repute, be he butcher, baker, draper or 

 anything else, might be elected a member of tins gufld. 

 Here is this note, perfectly authentic in every way, and 

 now Mr. Cowper gives us the marriage license, discovered 

 by Mm in the archives of Canterbury Cathedral, which 

 states that 'Isaack Walton was an Ironmonger of the Cittie 

 of London.' Am I not correct, in the face of this direct 

 evidence, in supposing that Walton was an ironmonger 

 pure and simple, and that stories of the haberdasher, 

 linendraper, hosier, sempster, either wholesale or retafl, 

 were but suppositions handed down from generation t© 

 generation, in that peculiar mamier so dangerous to the 

 correctness of historical data? If there be any stronger 

 proof of the business followed by this fine old soul, it may 

 perhaps now be forthcoming. At present I believe Izaak 

 Walton was an ironmonger." 



CAMP ADAMS— I. 



IS everything ready? Every one on board? Yes. 

 Well, then, let her go. A few moments later early- 

 risers might have seen a party of four gentlemen, Wil- 

 liam Crawford, one of the members of the firm of Simp- 

 son, Crawford & Simpson, New York; William Reddick, 

 of Wilmington, N. C. ; John Ferguson and Robert Arm- 

 strong, the latter two from Newcastle, turning the corner 

 of Street's Hill, and bowling along the Chaplin Island 

 road in a double-seated express wagon, bound for John 

 Way's, the first stopping place on the way to Camp 

 Adams, whither they were going for a week or ten days 

 of salmon fishing. 



On they go, up hfll here, down dale there, past farm 

 and farm* house, wood and pasture, crossing now a brook 

 and now a culvert, over which the wagon bumps and 

 bounces in a way suggestive of what is to follow over the 

 twenty miles of a portage road ahead. 



At last they reach the old schoolhouse, in the back set- 

 tlement, where they turn to the right and continue on 

 their way up river until the upper bridge comes in sight. 

 Over they go with another clatter and bang, and another 

 quick turn to the right, a few moments more and they 

 have drawn their horses up before John Way's door, and 

 in a twinkling they are all on the ground stamping and 

 tramping the kinks, caused by the long, rapid ride, out 

 of then limbs. 



In a few minutes John puts in an appearance. Less 

 than medium height with a slight halt in his step, trou- 

 sers fastened with a belt at the waist and having an ap- 

 pearance of just staying where they were, not because 

 they wanted to but because they had to, a. checkered 

 flannel shirt, no coat nor vest, a battered felt hat, from 

 under which appeared a pair of sharp bright eyes that 

 betoken no end of fun, the rest of the face, well, that is 

 covered with a forest growth of brownish beard, now be- 

 ginning to be tinged with gray in places, while a strag- 

 gling circle of hair wanders out from beneath the hat rim, 

 more than generally escapes the hands of three wives, 

 with which John has been blessed. 



He suddenly blurts out in a voice that would make a 

 steam caliope green with envy, "Halloo, boys; what kind 

 of jig dancing do you call that? When I heered you 

 fellers com in' I thought Sam Kingston had another bear 

 down in the medder trap. Are you going up to the camp?" 

 "Easy John," replied Reddick, "one question at a time. 

 What kind of a dance is this? This is a Carolina gallop." 

 "Carolina devd," retorted John, "it looks more like mad 

 Nuel Julien's Injun wav dance." 



With a shout that causes all the party to jump he calls, 

 "Bob, Bob, put Duke and Liz in the wagorf, quick, 

 there's a copple of Yanks here in such a darned hurry to 

 go fishing that they ain't got no time for nothin' else, 'n' 

 if you don't hurry up some on 'em will have a French fit 

 sure." 



In a short time the portage wagon and Duke and Liz 

 are ready for the road, as is also a buckboard with another 

 horse. Two of the party take their places in the portage 

 wagon, stretching full length on a soft bed of hay. The 

 rest seat themselves in the buckboard and then every- 

 thing is ready, but there is no driver as yet moving. 

 "Say, John, are you not going to go with us," comes 

 from out the hay in the bottom of the wagon. "Not this 

 time," replies the man of the belt and the three wives. 

 "Guess rll send Bob, it don't matter much if you kill 

 him or not." 



And now they are off with a "git up ahead Duke, get 

 up Liz" from Bob, who slings a bag of oats on the front 

 of the wagon and himself on the bag, and as Reddick has 

 it, he immediately became a fixture, a part of the wagon 

 itself as it were. Swaying first to one side as one wheel 

 goes away up on the top of a big rock and then to the 

 other as the wheel comes down off the rock with a bump 

 that would dislodge any one unless they had a thumb 

 screw in the seat of then pants to hold them on , as friend 

 Reddick would have us believe that Bob has. And it 

 seems almost impossible to convince the for ner that his 

 theory is not correct. As they are disappearing around a 

 turn in the road they hear John's voice calling after them, 

 "Good luck, boys. Don't take 'em all. Hope the flies 

 won't eat you." 



Any person who has ever been over a portage road 

 will know what our friends have ahead of them, while 

 those who have not have missed something in the driving 

 line well worth a long trip to experience. First one 

 wheel mounts a rock wliile the opposite one sinks into a 

 mud hole hub deep, the next moment vice versa, then for 

 variety both wheels plunge into a mire hole at once, 

 which causes Bob to use some little profanity, who, with 

 a "git up ahead there, what are you doim," and an extra 

 jerk at the reins, succeeds in getting the "chabang" 

 pulled through; then more rocks, etc. They continue in 

 this v manner, roiling from side to side, more like a ship in 

 a tempest than a wagon, until Bob falls into a deep sleep, 

 but as he retains the perpendictdar on the bag of oats, 

 Reddick is certain that his suspicions about the thumb 

 screw are correct. 



Six miles from Way's they stop at Cruickshank's for 

 dinner. Horses are turned loose and allowed to graze 

 over the small clearing. A fire is soon binning and the 

 tea is boiled (they boil it in the woods, never draw it) and 

 all sit down to dinner. How that grub went out of sight 

 only hungry fishermen after a long drive can understand. 

 After dinner no dish washing or wiping is done, but 

 greazy birch bark plates are thrown away; and they are 

 off for Stony Brook, the next stopping place, distant from 

 Cruickshank's^four mdes. 



As they proceed on their journey, soothed by the un- 

 dulations of the moving wagon, before they can realize 

 it they have succumbed to the drowsy god, and with pipe 

 in mouth have dropped off into a sound sleep, only to be 

 aroused by Bob who, strange to say, has either kept 

 awake or just waked up. "Say, fellers, look at the old 

 partridge and her chicks." As he holds up his horses 

 they see strutting along the middle of the road'an old 

 ruffed grouse and her brood a httle ahead of them, not a 

 bit alarmed at their near presence. As they come up, 

 she and her famfly, pretty well grown, turn off into the 

 woods, and with a rustling among last year's dead leaves 

 disappear. 



Along this road almost anywhere between John Way's 

 and the camp one can, on the opening of the season Sept. 

 20, shoot all the ruffed grouse he desires. A stray 

 bear, moose, or caribou can frequently be taken; in fact, 

 the former are more than plentiful, doing much damage 

 at times to sheep and cattle. 



