80 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 3, 1887. 



mals and plants whose quality and traits are improved by 

 cultivation and domestication, but salmon do not come 

 under this list. Their natural virility and elan are " im- 

 proved" out of them. I have no doubt that domestication 

 tends to eliminate the instinct to go to sea, so that they 

 stick to their flesh-pots just as domesticated wild geese 

 do to the barnyard. Their edible qualities may be im- 

 proved, in the opinion of some, but their characteristics 

 will be changed. Even their size may be increased, Like 

 stall-fed cattle; but like deer in a paddock, or falcons on 

 the wrist, their natural traits are modified. They are 

 genuine ferce natura no longer. Their "game qualities" 

 are gone. I have no idea that the salmon products of 

 crossed clans are barren, but it is quite probable that 

 the instinct of procreation is suppressed — first by the un- 

 natural alliance; second, by the artificial manipulation; 

 and third, by the loss of generative energy resulting from 

 prolonged absence from the salt water. 



Gunther, I see, notes a marked frequency of hybridism 

 in the salmon family, with regard to which he says: "As 

 with other animals, the more certain kinds of fishes are 

 brought under domestication, the more readily do they 

 interbreed with other allied species. It is characteristic 

 of hybrids that their characters are very variable, the de- 

 grees of affinity to one or the other of the parents being 

 inconstant, and as these hybrids are known readily to 

 breed with either of the parent race, the variations of 

 form, structure and color are infinite." Promiscuous 

 breeding is assuredly less desirable than selection, and it 

 may at least be said with regard to the progeny of the 

 mingled clans of the Restigouchc, that the type "will not 

 be constant or the size uniform, but will indrive rather to 

 variations such as we perceive, for instance, in the human 

 family, where strains are not generally respected. 

 Washington, D. C. Charles Hallock. 



SALMON IN THE HUDSON. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have just read the letter of Mr. Chas. T. Bramble, in 

 last Forest and Stream, pleasantly commenting upon 

 my communication to the Eastern New York Association, 

 and I will explain why I drew the conclusions that I did 

 in regard to the presence of salmon in the lower Hudson 

 in September. Prof. Goode says: "In America the south- 

 ern streams seem to yield the earliest fish (salmon). In 

 the Connecticut they appear in April and May, in the 

 Merrimack in May and June, in the Penobscot most 

 abundantly in June and July, although some come as 

 early as April, and in the Miramichi from the middle of 

 June to October. lean only account for this seeming 

 paradox by the theory that, while salmon are not harmed 

 by extreme variation of temperature, they may be averse 

 to sudden changes, and though strongly impelled to seek 

 the spawning grounds, are prevented by the cold." 



From the above Mr. Bramble will see that what may be 

 true of the movements of salmon in one river may not be 

 true of the movements of salmon in another river far re- 

 moved. 



Prof. Goode does not state that salmon come into the 

 streams that he names at other times than during the 

 months given, nor does he state that they do not; but I 

 assumed that they did not in any appreciable quantities. 

 I was the more ready to do this because, in the case of the 

 Miramichi, at least, the limits of the salmon run seem to 

 be given. 



If this is true my conclusions are sound and in no way 

 differ from the observations of Mr. Bramble (which are 

 corroborated by Prof. Goode as above), for the Hudson is 

 located further south than any of the rivers named in the 

 quotation, and certainly the run of salmon should take 

 place as early in this river, provided it was a salmon 

 stream, as in the Connecticut, and should extend no later. 



Glens Falls, N. Y. A. N. Cheney. 



WAYS OF THE SEA FISH. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In your issue of Jan. 20, Mr. S. C. Clarke, of Georgia, 

 has his say in regard to the New England fisheries, charg- 

 ing the menhaden fishermen with destroying their food, 

 etc. The mistake Mi-. Clarke makes, and all others that 

 have not made a study of the fishery question, is in at- 

 - trihiit-mp- scarcity of fish to man, which theory has been 

 exploded by Huxley, Baird, Button, Goode and other 

 scientific and disinterested authorities time and again. 

 To rescue Mr. Clarke from the quagmire in which he is 

 floundering, we will cite for his benefit a few facts from 

 the many in our possession. 



Sea bass were plenty on this coast thirtv vears ago- 

 thousands of barrels were taken in the Scoconnet traps 

 and sold for manure. Soon after they left and were gone 

 twenty-five years. They made their appearance in 1882 

 and have been as plenty as of old ever since. 



Codfish have been selling from vessels in New York 

 city this winter for less than one cent per pound. Within 

 the last ten years codfish and mackerel have been very 

 plenty in Cape Cod Bay, and it is a safe prophecy to make 

 that they will be plenty again within the next ten years 

 Smce 1880 mackerel have been so plenty it hardlv paid to 

 catch them. A false prophet (Rice by name) delivered 

 a lecture before a learned body in Boston during 1878 or 

 79, stating that mackerel were gone never to return 

 unless taking them in purse sceines was prohibited. ' 



Sheepshead many years ago were plenty in Narra<*an- 

 sett Bay, but not one has been seen here during this 

 generation, Scup made their appearance in 1800? were 

 mostly gone during 1870, were plenty as ever before 

 known m 1874, and have been plenty and scarce twice 

 since that date. Squiteague used to be plenty in Narra- 

 gansett Bay, left and were gone about thirty years; came 

 back during 1870 in unheard of quantities, and since the 

 latter date have been off and on once or twice Tautoc 

 were mostly frozen during 1856; it was hard to find a 

 specimen the following summer, but in five years they 

 were as plenty as ever; were again frozen during 1875 and 

 were plenty again during 1880; have since disappeared 

 and small tautog which will be a large crop durin°- 1889' 

 made their appearance last spring. 



The last strange phase in the fish supply is the appear- 

 ance of young sea, herrings in immense quantities between 

 Cape Cod and Delaware Bay. The farmers of Rhode Island 

 hauled hundreds of barrels of them ashore in mosquito 

 netting last fall, and used them for manure. Another 

 stranger is the butter-fish, which seem destined to crowd 

 out the scup, for the off-shore waters between the Delaware 

 and Cape Cod seem to be full of them. D. T. Church. 

 Tiverton, Rhode Island, Jan. 24. 



CHATEAUGAY AND PLUMADOR. 



THE heat of July was an excuse, but a longing which 

 is born, not bred, in every sportsman, for that state 

 of primitive life was the true reason for my trip to the 

 home of the trout. 



Those who have read that delightful letter of "B." in 

 Forest and Stream of Nov. 19, 1885, will need no de- 

 scription of the route, the beautiful lake, nor of Die' 

 Shults, the unique acanthopterygian who keeps at India 

 Point. That is rather a long word, but it is so expressive 

 As his hotel is 1,600ft. above the level of the sea, words 

 which contain much gas are apt to expand. Dick's house 

 is not grand, but is an excellent place for those who an 

 willing to leave behind them the dust of the city to breathe 

 the balmy odor of the great woods. The table fare is ex- 

 cellent. This is not an advertisement, but a slight acknowl- 

 edgment of favors which are alike to all. 



After dinner on the day of our arrival, we repaired to 

 the piazza to talk over plans for the campaign, and here, 

 sad to relate, I received the startling information that had 

 I come the week before or could I wait until the middle 

 of August, fishing would have been or would be better. 

 Brother fishermen, we get toughened to such news, but 

 for all that, bear me witness that it does hiu*t. We build 

 great expectations, cover them with tinsel and get on our 

 knees to worship them. Then some unfeeling noodle 

 pricks them with a needle of experience and the collapse 

 is so sad. My visions of trout like a shark dwindled intr 

 trout like a minnow, and sadly I selected my smallest flie 

 and weakest leader as most fit to allure the pigmies I had 

 journeyed 200 miles to conquer. 



Everything being ready Dick rowed me to the mouth 

 of Rocky Brook, and talked incessantly, stopping at in- 

 tervals to take breath and set the spring for another tune, 

 "Now," said he, " cast over therein the channel," which 

 I proceeded to do again and again with gradually 

 lengthening line, when with startling suddenness some- 

 thing seized the fly. A minnow, eh? I've struck a splen 

 ded trout and my rod is bowing gracfully in acknowl 

 edgment of his backwoods salute. Back* and forth he 

 flashed rather than moved, when of a sudden the strain 

 ceased and my flies came viciously back in my face, 

 Dick looked at me for a moment and I could detect the 

 symptoms of. a brutal sneer; then he quietly said, "Mr 

 S. that Avas a lunker. " The floodgates were open, and 

 while he talked I silently untied the forty-eleven double 

 bow knots which had somehow been tied in my leader, 

 and resumed casting. Success was fan-, though no more 

 monsters disturbed our equilibrium. Trout of 4 to 6oz, 

 were caught, imtil a sudden dash of rain told us to quit, 

 It rains wonderfully easily at Chateaugay; no clouds arc 

 needed; a little fog peers over the mountains and then it 

 rains. We reached the landing well satisfied. Our catch 

 was cooked and we sat down to a nicely prepared supper. 



The next morning (Sunday) dawned bright though 

 breezy, and from the front piazza I viewed a prospect 

 which is worth a journey in itself. The Ellenbury range 

 to the north, Lyon Mountain to the east, W Mountain to 

 the south and numerous other peaks fitly frame the lake 

 an ever-changing picture of which none can ever tire. 

 Glorious Adirondacks. God made you beautiful, but man 

 is trying hard to despoil your beauty with railroads and 

 the smoke of charcoal kilns. The beautiful and the prac- 

 tical are here not wisely betrothed; unless New York for- 

 bids the banns, soon there will be no place within her 

 borders where one can say "Behold what the Lord hath 

 wrought." The Iron Company is building a railroad 

 through to Paul Smith's; and between the locomotive and 

 the dogs, the deer now so plenty will ere long live, only 

 in the traditions of the guide. 



Monday morning Dick brought forward mv guide to be, 

 and introduced him as George Cook, adding 'in that truly 

 modest way so characteristic of other great men. that 

 George, as a guide and fisherman, was second only to R. 

 M. Shults. Cook was a spare man of moderate stature. 

 My experience with him afterward proved that in his 

 specialty he has few equals. In one thing his superiority 

 is so great that none can question, that is in catching- 

 chubs. He can catch them when other men have to con- 

 tent themselves with trout, and he has the good sense not 

 to chuckle over it either. His other virtues are taciturnity 

 (at intervals). 



Several days passed pleasantly. Rocky Brook, West 

 Inlet, Cold Brook and South Inlet yielded good though 



„ — „ — „ — „„„„ tli .. A . , jjx^j+vj ut guuu iiou uiav 



be taken from Chateaugay by one who knows how to cast 

 a fly. There is fly-casting and fly-casting. The difference 

 is as great as between the music of a Cremona in the 

 hands of an Ole Bull and that of its namesake on the back 

 door yard fence. 



One afternoon we started for Plumador. George had 

 for several days been dropping into poetry, and something 

 had to be done, especially as the stanzas were set to music. 

 I knew that if he was allowed to drop into poetry he 

 would be apt, like Mr. Wegg, to get above his business, so 

 we started. Up South Inlet we paddled, through and 

 under the alders which arched the narrow stream so close 

 to the water that it was only with much difficulty that we 

 could force our way. After traversing what seemed a bout 

 fifteen miles of winding stream I asked how- much further 

 it was to where we were to spend the night. ' 'Only about 

 a mile further," said George. I picked a dry stub out of 

 my ear, rubbed my nose just then slapped forcibly by an 

 overhanging branch, and pushed on, thinking how true 

 it was that the longest road has finally an end. Another 

 thought struck me and I asked how far we had come. 

 "About two miles," he answered. "Only two miles?" I 

 exclaimed, "is it any better the rest of the way?" 

 "Worse," said he; and he told the truth, as he always does 

 About sunset we arrived at the Springs, and after 

 mooring the boat George took the pack and led the way 

 to a little log cabin fifty rods from the stream. This was 

 his base of supplies and starting point for fall deer hunts. 

 Alter supper he told story after story of great success, 

 sore privations and hair-breadth escapes. Finally I asked 

 whether there were any panthers there. Some, he said, 

 and then went on to tell how about a year or so ago while 

 sleeping in tms very cabin one came on the roof and how 

 he expected every moment that it would break through 

 the trail bark. I asked no more questions but laid down 

 and tried to sleep, which thanks to fatigue I did quickly, 

 in spite of nervousness. Suddenly a tremendous clawing 

 on the roof awoke me. Mercy on us, thought I, the 

 panther has come for us now. sure. George was sitting 



beside me scratching matches, which somehow failed to 

 ignite. "Strike a light," said he, "and we will get him." 

 " Get him!" I murmured, "I only hope he won't get us." 

 Meanwhile the clawing approached the door which, in 

 the pitchy darkness. I could hear creaking as it slowly 

 opened, Just then the lamp was lighted, revealing not a 

 panther but a large porcupine hanging by the doorpost. 

 He dropped down and got away into the bushes, not, 

 however, without a stroke from a piece of rotten stump, 

 which we found in the morning filled with quills. The 

 following day I cautioned George about walking too fast 

 through the woods, as I had a sore knee and did not wish 

 to strain it. So he promised to go very slowly, and as it 

 was only six miles, with moderate exertion we would 

 get into "camp by noon and I could rest half the time. 

 The direction, as he said, was due west and almost as 

 direct as the crow flies. Never has my faith so cruelly 

 suffered. When we started out we went nearly due east, 

 and when I asked the reason George said it was always 

 necessary in the wood in order to get a good start and 

 acquire momentum. We finally reached Plumador at 

 one o'clock, six miles in seven hours, but I firmly re- 

 solved never to go there again on the air line route. 



Plumador is a beautif ul lake or pond, ahout a fourth 

 of a mile in diameter and nearly round, quite shallow and 

 fringed with rushes, excepting the eastern shore, which is 

 rocky. It is framed in by the grand primeval forest, and 

 abounds with excellent trout. A recent storm had stirred 

 it, so that it was far from clear; but so calm it lay and 

 still that one could hardly think that its bosom had ever 

 been rippled by the paddle or that its shores had echoed 

 to the crack of the rifle. On the opposite shore was the 

 bark shanty on a gentle slope, seeming to invite us to rest 

 from that dreadful six-mile walk. But the pond must 

 first be crossed, so I stretched myself on the mossy bank 

 while George went to get his b®at, which was safely hid- 

 den from stray seekers. He was gone so long that I sank 

 into a quiet doze. Thought was busy, and the witchery 

 of Cooper's Mohican came over me. Nucas was outlying 

 on the track of the Mingo. The caw of the slow-flying 

 crow was the signal of Hawkeye, and I seemed to hear 

 the splash of the beaver startled by the singer's silent 

 figure. George was returning, and the splash of his oars 

 completed the spell and awoke me at once. Yet the 

 dream did not instantly vanish. Perhaps on this very 

 spot the beautiful sisters had rested on their long wearv 

 ride, while their dusky captors caught fish for their even- 

 ing repast. Could these silent shores tell the story o£ 

 tilings they have seen during the ages, what a tale would 

 they unfold. Tribe has succeeded tribe, and all have- 

 passed away, but the beautiful lake remains. She spreads 

 her sparkling circle still unchanged. The trees look old 

 with long sprays of moss hanging from their boughs like 

 hoary beards. The lake smiles youthfully in the sun. 

 Men act their part, grow old and moulder away. Lakes 

 and rivers never grow old. 



We soon crossed to the other shore and gladly reached 

 the hut, which was a rude shed of bark, the back closed 

 by boughs piled loosely, the front open. This gave ex- 

 cellent ventilation, especially when the wind blew strong. 

 One great charm of the Adirondacks is the air; there is 

 always plenty of it and some to spare. George then built 

 an excellent bed of balsam boughs. It was very soft and 

 balmy, but I found myself on the bare ground in the 

 morning, while George was cozily curled up in the middle 

 of it. When we awoke in the new day all was still. A 

 duck quacked in the rushes; birds piped in the treetops 

 a homesick-looking chipmunk perched himself on a neigh- 

 boring stump and eyed us with mild curiosity. 



The lake invited us; and breakfast finished, we sought 

 the most attractive looking spots, but cast I ever so deftly, 

 not a rise could be bad. Flies were changed without suc- 

 cess and we finally made up our minds that the trout 

 must have gone visiting. We went back to camp and 

 spent the remainder of the day in loafing. 



The next morning a gentle breeze was ruffling the 

 water and playing tunes in the trees while we were 

 breakfasting on the remains of canned beef, dry bread 

 and no fish. On calling George's attention to the latter 

 fact he promised that it should not occur again, if he had 

 to come down to worms for bait; but as the camp needed 

 some repairs he thought best to "fix up" before trying the 

 lake. Everything finally being to his mind we sallied 

 forth a little before noon, a nice breeze from the west 

 making the lake dance and sparkle, while great masses of 

 cloud caused shadow to chase sunshine over the water 

 and changed the forest alternately from muddy brown to 

 vivid green. 



George had declared that we should have some trout; 

 and we did. Near the inlet is a large patch of water 

 lilies, covering perhaps half an acre, in water 6ft. deep. 

 My first cast raised a fine fellow, which I failed to hook. 

 At a second attempt he met his fate. This was the begin- 

 ning of fun. The water seemed almost to boil wherever 

 my flies touched the surface. Few of the trout hooked 

 weighed less than half a pound. Several times two were 

 taken at a cast, weighing over a pound each. As I did 

 not wish to overdo it, I soon ceased casting excepting 

 when a promising wake gave token of a larger trout than 

 the average. This was a success and I had several royal 

 battles with beauties, some of which drew the spring' of 

 my pocket scales down to the 21b. notch. But more days 

 were to come, and as we had all that could be cared for, 

 and more than could possibly be eaten, I reluctantly told 

 George to row to camp. He did so, grumbling, however, 

 at the "pusillanimous foolishness," as he called it, when 

 jerked trout was almost equal to herring. 



For dinner I ordered boiled trout to his utter astonish- 

 ment. "Why!" he said, "they are not fit to eat; you mean 

 broiled." "No," I said, "put a good-sized piece of butter 

 m the water and don't let them boil to pieces." My recipe 

 as to the butter is modeled after my mother's recipe for 

 mince pies. "Put in all the spices you dare to, then shut 

 both eyes and throw in another handful." Butter is 

 generally so scarce in the woods that there is seldom dan- 

 ger of overdoing this, and trout so cooked are to my taste 

 most delicious. 



This was one of several days of unmixed pleasure. We 

 had found the home of the trout, and when conditions of 

 wind and water were right the sport did not fail us. One 

 day, casting near a bunch of lilv-pads, I allowed my fly 

 to sink somewhat deeply, and giving a gentle twitch, was 

 about to recover, when with a mighty swirl my leader 

 was taken off as though cut with scissors. Quickly rig- 

 f^?f ^ other 1 tl ' ied vaiQl y to raise him again. He was 

 thirty teet long and weighed a ton. If you doubt it, ask. 



