204 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



(March 31, 1887. 



hoped that riflemen interested will soon be furnished with an au- 

 thoritative statement oflwhat muzzle velocity is developed 1 

 well as its trajectory up to 200yds., and a test for accuracy to that 

 distance. A rifle with that charge, if not accurate for that hunt- 

 ing range, fails in one of the principal requirements of an express 

 rifle. Using a naked bullet will, I think, be found n mistake, but 

 that can easily be corrected. As the patched bullet has been, by 

 the experience of experts, found so much superior in accuracy 

 where one-fifth powder is used, there is so much more reason for 

 the use of this bullet where greater charjres are used and the ele- 

 ments of air resistance to its flight are so much magnified. 



As the writer gets such fine results from the 2%in. straight 

 shell, is as evident not only from his (our) report, but from the ex- 

 periment by Captain Michaelis, showing a muzzle velocity of 

 1,964ft. per second, and such extremely good accuracy from the 

 bullets, as is evident from the experiment of Mr. Romer and 

 Major Merrill, above given (all confirmatorv of his own report), 

 it may be very pertinently asked, what better shell does he want? 

 The reason has oeen given in a previous paper, and is reneated 

 with care, by means of a Oft. loading tube 110 to llogrs. of C. & li. 

 No. 6 powder (according to its facility for packing), can be gotten 

 into this 2%in. shell, and with a greased .lute wad, such as is used 

 of 8-32in. thickness, over powder, there is then %m. left for seat- 

 ing the patched bullet, which is ample in my experience. This 

 thin jute wad has been found the best lubricant and is admirably 

 adapted for this shell. 



It is evidently desirable, however, to have a shell which is easily 

 loaded with the amount of powder considered sufficient and into 

 which 10 or 15 more grains can be packed with a little more care. 

 Nor do you wish to be restricted to this thin lubricant wad if any- 

 thing better is brought out, especially as this wad has to he im- 

 ported. But it may be truly said the lengthening of the shell to 

 -3J4in. will obviate most of these objections. But this is counlod 

 with the additional objection that the loaded cartridge will also 

 be lengthed, properly loaded to 4 and ilim. The 214m. shell is 

 already too long, if it can be obviated 3% to lin. according to the 

 length of bullet loaded; whereas the SMtn. bottle-neck shell, the 

 more powerful and more compact, with the same bullets and 

 loaded in the same manner need not be more than 3U to 8Min. long. 

 It is unnecessary to say how much more desirable the la1 (er car- 

 tridge is for field use than either of the others. The ohjection of 

 some that this is an English shell is unworthy of consideration, 

 each nation being constantly in the habit of appropriating each 

 other's ideas. This very shell, the solid-drawn shell, is an Amer- 

 ican invention, and is now used exclusively for sporting and tar- 

 get rifles in Great Britain. What the American sportsman wants 

 is the best designed rifle that can be had regardless of nationality. 

 They can be built cheaper in this country and there is no desire to 

 import them. A single-barrel rifle is all that is desired for our 

 most dangerous game. 



Though this paper is already too much lengthened, it is, never- 

 theless, desired to call attention to the fine results obtained from 

 the machine rest" invented by Mr. Romer, for steadiness and 

 accuracy. It is to be hopsd he will patent it, for such a macliine 

 adjustable for arms, giving varying recoil, should be very valuable 

 for testing rifles. As it is, the test of target accuracy of rifles is 

 now dependent more upon the shooter than any other factor. P. 



POSSIBILITIES. 



"VrjTe might have all been heathen, 



' * Bowed down to wood and stone; 

 We might have all been hermit crabs. 



And each one lived alone; 

 We might have all been little deer, 



Or moose, or caribou; 

 We might have been a nest of owls 



And sung too-hoo! too-hoo! 

 I might have been a crocodile, 



And Tom an alligator, 

 Ben and sister monkeys, 



Way down by the equa tor. 

 I might have been an elephant, 



With my bandbox and my trunk; 

 Sis and Tom been bullfrogs, 



And go enrchunk! curchunk! 

 Mamma calls us little geese. 



As we play with Pap's old cartridges; 

 But papa says, we're nothing but 



A brood of li ( tie partridges. 

 Dedham, Mass. Ettiban Partridge. 



fm mid Stiver 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



TROUT SEASON OPENINGS. 



Trout season opens in— 



. California April 1. New York April 1 



Colorado July 1. In Forest Preserve. . . .Mavl 



Connecticut April 1. Ontario Mayl 



Massachusetts April 1. Pennsylvania April" lo' 



New Hampshire May 1. Rhode Island March 1 



New Jersey March!. Vermont Mavl 



FARMER BROWN'S TROUT. 



IT is not Farmer's Brown's trout any longer. He owned 

 it once, or rather owned the piece of meadow land 

 through which the mountain stream, after dutifully cool- 

 ing the farmer's milk crocks, curved and twisted until 

 just at the edge of the woods it poured over a jagged 

 shelf of rocks, buried itself in a deep pool, and pouring 

 out again more turbulent than ever, under the broad 

 shadow of the woods, it babbled musically over glitter- 

 ing gravel and moss-covered stones, until it mingled its 

 clear waters with the Susquehanna, half a mile away. 



In the broad deep pool lived Farmer Brown's trout. It 

 had been there a long while. The spring freshets pour- 

 ing down from the mountain and crashing with their 

 burden of ice through the meadow never drove it away. 

 In some deep recess, perhaps under the bank, it slumbered 

 through the winter, and with the arbutus and the violets 

 came the old trout, its gold and crimson spots brighter 

 than ever, and its appetite sharpened to a keen edge after 

 its long fast; and stray insects that, braving the perils of 

 a spring frost, floated over the pool in the dewy April 

 mornings, were ruthlessly gobbled up. 



Farmer Brown held that trout in the highest venera- 

 tion. No cruel hook had ever been thrown into the pool, 

 and dire indeed would be the fate of any luckless youth 

 who meditated harm to the sacred fish. At times it 

 would float idly upon the surface, waving its tail with an 

 indolent and graceful motion that seemed to say, "As 

 long as I am here your crops shall flourish. Prosperity 

 and plenty shall be yours." Certain it was that Farmer 

 Brown's grain was the best for miles around, and his corn 

 and melons could not be equaled. All this the fanner at- 

 tributed to the trout. True, his neighbors laughed at 

 that. His land was well watered and very fertile they 

 said, no wonder Ms crops were good. But then these re- 

 marks were prompted by envy. His neighbors were not 

 blessed with a good genius in the shape of a trout. 



So the years passed on, and the trout grew larger and 

 larger. No wonder it thrived. It led an innocent unso- 

 phisticated life, shut in from the temptations and perils 

 which assailed other fish, and with a confidence born of 

 security it navigated the narrow boundaries of its pool. 



Once it disappeared for a while, and during its absence 

 a thunderstorm overthrew half an acre of the farmer's 

 best wheat, and a fox killed half a dozen of his chickens. 

 But at the expiration of a week it returned and darted 

 round in sportive glee to express its delight at getting 

 home again, and ever after it appeared to be a littlo more 

 cautious and spent most of the time sulking in a deep 

 corner of the pool under the twisted roots of an old but- 

 tonwood tree. 



One morning the farmer's watchful eyes discovered a 

 figure creeping along the edge of the pool. When he 

 and his trusty bull pup arrived on the scene the spot was 

 deserted and the trout was serenely swimming around. 

 But footsteps in the moist earth and part of a line with 

 hook attached dangling from a dead limb of the tree told 

 only too plain a tale. Farmer Brown's wrath knew no 

 bounds. He vowed that such another sacrilege should 

 cost the offender dear, and procuring a number of steel 

 traps he placed them around the pool, and even kept the 

 bull pup on half rations for a week. Nor even when an 

 inquisitive young calf wandered into one of the traps and 

 broke its leg did his vigilance abate. He even cut down 

 an aged walnut tree in order to obtain a clear- view of the 

 pool from the house, and kept a gun loaded with rook 

 salt constantly in readiness behind the door. 



"We were canoeing down the North Branch, and the 

 cool and shady grove of oak and hickory through which 

 farmer Brown's trout stream ran into the river, was so 

 inviting that we struck camp, ran up our tent and pre- 

 pared for a couple of days of quiet enjoyment. Canoeing 

 is fascinating sport, bat steady paddling day after day in 

 the hot sun makes a short stop very refreshing indeed, 

 and especially amid the beautiful scenery which makes 

 Wyoming county so justly celebrated. We pitched our 

 tent on a grassy knoll slightly above the river, lit a fire 

 and prepared supper. The yellow perch were browned 

 on both sides and the coffee was boiling over, but with a 

 too fastidious taste for canoeists we desired cream in our 

 coffee. Leaving Forster in charge of camp, Morton and 

 I seized a tin pail and started off in search of a farm 

 house. No dwelling was in sight. Instinctively we fol- 

 lowed the brook up through the woods, and soon came to 

 the open meadow, and just across the field lay the farm 

 house, its old-fashioned windows gleaming blood red in 

 the rays of the setting sun. Morton leaped over the fence, 

 sprang forward and stepped into a steel trap, which closed 

 on his ankle with a sharp click. Fortunately he wore 

 rubber boots and the sharp fangs did not penetrate the 

 flesh. The trap was securely fastened to a heavy stake 

 driven into the earth, and clung to Ms ankle with 

 a death-like grip. With united strength we were 

 endeavoring to wrench the jaws apart, when 

 the barking of a dog attracted attention, and 

 loolung up we saw two meu and a savage dog bear- 

 mg rapidly down upon us across the field. Escape was 

 impossible and we passively submitted to be collared and 

 led up toward the farmhouse, while the dog guarded the 

 rear, diverting himself with occasional vicious snaps at 

 my legs. Explanations were demanded, and as the 

 presence of our tin pail showed that we had entertained 

 no designs upon the trout, we were finally dismissed with 

 a quart of milk and a strict injunction to trespass no 

 more. Not a word was said about the trout; Farmer 

 Brown was too shrewd for that, and we attributed such 

 unusual precautions to a crusty nature and general dis- 

 like for trespassers. But the next day a rustic visitor at 

 camp enlightened us. We heard all about Fanner 

 Brown's big trout, and I regret to say that regardless of 

 the farmer's feelings, we secretly resolved to capture that 

 fish. We proceeded with great caution. A reconnoitering 

 expedition was made up through the woods to the pool, 

 and screened from view by the trees which fringed the 

 edge, we saw the fish moving around in the clear, deep 

 water. It was a beauty, and with no premonition of fate 

 it fearlessly sported in front of our admiring eyes. We 

 hastily made a survey. From the edge of the* woods a 

 line could be thrown into the pool, and at the same time 

 we would be pretty well screened from view. 



We made our way undiscovered back to camp, and 

 before turning in selected from our scanty supply a 

 couple of gaudy flies. Our sleep that night was disturbed 

 by troubled visions, m which Farmer Brown and his bull 

 pup occupied a promment place. At daybreak we were 

 up, and before the sun had peeped over the top of the 

 mountain Morton and I were at the pool. 



Thin banks of mist floated over the water, and the 

 hazy atmosphere rendered the farmhouse an indistinct 

 mass in the distance. The water, unlit by the rays of the 

 sun was dark and cloudy and smooth as a sheet of glass. 

 With trembling fingers I adjusted a fly, and avoiding the 

 trees as much as possible, I cast it out on the pool and 

 drew it toward me over the surface. A second time I 

 made a cast and then a third. Still a failure. At the 

 fourth cast the fly dropped just at the foot of the button- 

 wood tree, and as it skimmed over the water, there was a 

 swirl and a splash, and my reel spun out with a merry 

 click which tingled every nerve in my body. The trout 

 was hooked and hooked firmly. Instantly it darted 

 toward the tree, but sheering off dashed " up the pool 

 and was stopped short by the ledge of rocks. Then back 

 again so rapidly that my line slacked in coils and as sud- 

 denly became taut as the huge fish darted to the other 

 end of the pool, making frantic plunges out of water and 

 vainly endeavoring to rid itself of the cruel hook. Then 

 up to the rocks again, and,' in the deep hollow, worn out 

 by the down-pouring water, it sulked and refused to 

 budge. 



We had to be very cautious. If we ventured out to the 

 very edges we ran great risk of being seen, and as the 

 sun was now scattering the mist the farmhouse seemed 

 alarmingly near. I began to reel in and succeeded in 

 starting the fish again. It was a new and startling ex- 

 perience for it, and with undiminished energy it dashed 

 back and forward through the pool, now divmg close 

 down to the pebbly bottom, now up to the surface, half 

 out of water, and then off to some far corner to gain 

 strength for another struggle for freedom. But now the 

 strain began to tell on it. The wild darts were less fre- 

 quent, and the tension on the rod lessened visibly. The 

 struggle was drawing to a close, and none too soon, for 

 the tinkling of cow bells, and distant voices floating 

 toward us on the breeze warned us to depart. 



I rapidly turned the reel, and drew the fish closer and 

 closer. It struggled feebly as it drew near shore. 



"Now," said Morton, "hold on," and springing to the 

 edge he grasped the line. One sharp, quick pidl and 

 Farmer Brown's trout lay gasping for breath at our feet. 



its beautiful sides glittering and changing color in the 

 rays of the sun. We seized our prize and hurried down 

 through the woods to camp. Forster, with a far-sighted 

 confidence in our abilities, had a roaring fire and a frying 

 pan ready for us. 



We had planned an immediate start, but the thought 

 of fresh trout sharpened our already voracious appetites, 

 and recklessly dismissing Farmer Brown from our minds 

 we determined to breakfast first. With many pangs we 

 skinned the trout— a pound and a half I should judge— 

 and encasing it m cracker dust placed it on the fire. 



The coffee was boihng and the air was odorous with 

 fried potatoes. The trout was soon a rich brown on both 

 sides, and eagerly gathering around our hastily im- 

 provised table— one of our canoe sails— we started in. Just 

 then the crackling of branches startled us, and Morton in 

 his trepidation spilled the hot coffee over his arms. Soon 

 by the spring stood a mstic looking youth of probably 

 twelve summers. A light switch in one hand denoted 

 Ms errand. Hunting a stray cow probably. Evidently 

 one of the young Browns. But his glances were not 

 directed at us. At Ms feet lay the evidence of our gmlt 

 —the dismembered head of the trout, beautiful even in 

 death, and the lovely mottled slrin, its brightness already 

 beginning to fade. ' A glance at the frying pan com- 

 pleted the story. He turned without a word" and darted 

 up the slope. 



We stared at each other in consternation. "Hallo. 

 Johnny, that's only a sucker," shouted Forster. I ran up 

 the slope in time to see him vanishing among the trees. 

 He was already beyond call. There was a nice state of 

 affairs indeed. We would sooner have faced an earth- 

 quake than Farmer Brown's wrath. With frantic haste 

 we pulled the tent down and threw it into one of the 

 canoes. The table cloth, dishes and all, was bundled up 

 and thrown into another. Blankets, pails, clothes, dishes, 

 fishing tackle, provisions, and anything we could lay our 

 hands on were hurriedly and promiscuously crammed mto 

 the hatches. With admirable self-possession at such a 

 trying moment Forster seized the trout and carefully 

 placed it in his canoe, while I took charge of the coffee 

 and potatoes. A hasty survey showed that nothing was 

 left behind. We lifted our heavily-ladened canoes and 

 dropped them mto the river. A sudden noise in the 

 bushes startled Morton, and the end of the canoe he was 

 carrying slipped to the ground with a crash that fore- 

 boded ill to our chinaware. 



We grasped our paddles and rushed for the canoes. 

 None too soon. Away up in the woods a dog was bark- 

 ing. Forster delayed a second, and seizing a hatchet and 

 nad he nailed the head of the trout toaliuge oak tree 

 where it could not escape notice. He ran down the bank 

 and sprang into his canoe. A couple of strokes and he 

 grounded on a rock. In vain he endeavored to shove off. 

 At last in despair he leaped mto the water and dragged it 

 off just in time. As we paddled out into the current the 

 bull pup's melodious voice rang out on the air. He burst 

 into view and close behind him came Farmer Brown, 

 whip in hand, and three of his men, I will draw a veil 

 over the scene. Suffice it to say that threats and impre- 

 cations horrible to relate greeted our ears. We were 

 cordially invited to come m and be sldnned alive, or take 

 our pick of half a dozen other punishments equally as 

 pleasant. We magnanimously bore it in silence 'and 

 made no reply. The cm-rent carried us swiftly along, 

 and a last backward glance revealed our pursuers runrnng 

 along the shore, shaking their fists in futile rage at our 

 fast receding forms. We soon rounded a bend, and then 

 floating side by side, we proceeded with our interrupted 

 breakfast, and Farmer Brown's trout was soon a mere 

 skeleton. But we felt by no means safe, and paddled 

 with such energy that by sundown we camped within sight 

 of the fights of Pittsiton, and not until another clay's 

 journey had carried us thirty miles further did we feel 

 convmced that we were beyond the reach of Farmer 

 Brown's vengeance. W. M. Graydon. 



A CANADIAN CAMP TRIP. 



rpHE long whiter, with its work and worry, was at last 

 JL a tMng of the past, and as the weather warmed and 

 we began to think of the heat of midsummer, we wished 

 it might be so ordered that we might get out of the heat 

 of the city and to some of the streams where we might 

 not oMy rest, and recuperate, but where we might enjoy 

 the pleasure of casting the tempting bait into some stream 

 where there were fish to take it, so that we might take 

 them. While we wore thinking of it a friend wrote that 

 a party were arranging to invade Her Majesty's domin- 

 ions on an expedition of this kind. As I Mid never been 

 across the border, and knew nothing of land, people, or 

 the sport to be had, except that the latter was reported 

 to be of the best within reach, the proposition to include 

 me in the lucky number of those who were invited to go', 

 just suited my mind. As there were five clubs going to 

 the same section, we arranged to all go on the same day 

 and train, and thus be able to get better terms for trans- 

 portation. There were five clubs and we were provided 

 with a special train of three coaches and two baggage 

 cars, the entire train to be run from a certahi city in 

 western Pennsylvania to our destination at Severn River, 

 Ontario. We took enough large duck tents to accommo- 

 date all the party, and one for the stores and cooks. We 

 had provisions of all kinds enough to last all the time we 

 expected to camp, Avith a stove and everything needed to 

 insure our comfort. One of the articles will commend 

 itself to every camper who loves comfort as well as sport; 

 each one was provided with a folding cot. TMs kept us 

 off the ground and insured a dry, warm place to sleep 

 after a day spent in the sun or rain. 



We left Pittsburgh at 10 A. M. and sped northward all 

 that afternoon. It was after dark when we crossed the 

 border at Niagara Falls, but as we went over the gorge 

 tM-ough which rush the rapids below the falls, we could 

 see the mighty tonent in all its grandeur far below us, 

 and hear its mighty roar above that of the train. We had 

 arranged matters by correspondence with the customs 

 officers on both sides of the line, so that our baggage was 

 not inspected either going or coming. We pledged our 

 party not to violate any of the customs laws, and gave 

 those of Ontario a list of guns, rods, tents, etc., promising 

 not to sell or otherwise dispose of any of them. They 

 treated us fairly, and we did the same by them. We first 

 realized that we were on foreign soil when we entered the 

 Northern and Northwestern station and saw the American 

 coat of arms over the U. S. Consulate. This was m 

 Hamilton, where we an-ived about midnight. From here 



