July 81, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



55 



SHARK AND PORPOISE. 



"VTOT long ago, I tried to interest the readers of the 

 _lN Forest and Stream with an account of a quiet 

 stroll I took one June morning down the Aspeluc with 

 hook and bait and line to entice from his native element 

 a fish weighing not over half a pound ; and as variety is 

 the spice of life, I propose now to describe how with hook 

 and line and bait on one occasion, and harpoon on an- 

 other, I helped entice fish of very different weight out of 

 then- native element also— yanked them out and up on 

 deck would be the literal truth, for stout arms and willing 

 hearts were at work and shark and porpoise stood no 

 chance whatever. 



From my youth up I have associated with "all sorts 

 and conditions of men," in all sorts of byways and high- 

 ways. So it came about, as the old-fashioned story teller 

 begins, "Once upon a time, when pigs were swine and 



barked on some comical voyages at various periods of my 

 life, but for out and out comedy, more fun to the square 

 foot than I look for ever again, commend me to this one. 

 Our captain was a thorough sailor, a pupil and an apt 

 one of the famous Bob Waterman; irascible and zealous, 

 he had suddenly been converted from the error of his 

 ways, and like all new recruits, had set himself to the 

 herculean task of converting passengers and crew to his 

 persuasion, willy-nilly. All denominations were on 

 board, and when you reflect how these long sea voyages 

 try the best of tempers, how sorely they chafe and strain 

 us, how necessarily slow must be the process of conver- 

 sion of these "Innocents Ahroad," you will see that our 

 worthy old seahorse had a "hard road to travel," a hard 

 nut to crack. Working out his ship's course was mere 

 child's play to the sum he was trying to do. For my 

 part I say frankly I took no stock in this enterprise at all. 

 Miles away from home, the voice of the great Creator was 

 daily speaking to me through winds and waves and the 

 boundless ocean I so dearly loved with an effect that 

 mocked at man's feeble efforts. They that go down in 

 ships to the sea and occupy their business in great waters 

 know this to be the truth. Here we were all in one boat, 

 though. Prayers morning and evening, and business so 

 conducted as to make it an act of charity for a man to 

 smile. 



We had been fanning along through the doldrums and 

 were approaching the Equator. I had not allowed the 

 time to hang heavily on my hands; always brought up 

 not to be idle, I had become very much interested in a 

 youthful fellow passenger, tall, thin slabsided, and the 

 "greenest" subject I over encountered. What mysterious 

 dispensation of Providence ever started this man out 

 among the quick-witted Chinese I never inquired. We 

 christened him ' Jibboom," which in name and forni he 

 resembled. He was eternally asking the most curious 

 questions, and on board ship to a mind thirsting for infor- 

 mation there is always a good chance for reward. We 

 were on deck of a sunny morning when he began: How 

 were the sails mended?' Generally by the captain's wife; 

 owners can not afford a seamstress on board. Why were 

 the gulls called bonitas? Naturally enough; they pick up 

 the chicken bones the steward throws overboard. Did 

 the flying fish have feathers? Oh, very soft and downy 

 ones, they do; brilliant plumage like the humming bird. 

 Alight on the ship? Very often. No, they don't sing; 

 they hum along. What was to be done with such a re- 

 ceptive subject? It had been a great trouble to explain 

 to him how Napolean Bonaparte had crossed the Alps in 

 an open boat; how Mahomet captured Rome; how Julius 

 Cassar swam the Bosphorus with Helen of Troy on his 

 back; and that the English were called Anglo Saxons 

 because they were such great anglers; but when one day 

 I slipped on deck and sprained my ankle, and my unsus- 

 pecting friend came to my rescue, bandaged my foot and 

 treated me so kindly, I felt a wave of remorse break over 

 me; I felt how little I deserved this treatment; and re- 

 cognizing his kindly heart, I made him all the amends in 

 my power, and I never took advantage of his innocence 

 af ter that, nor allowed others to if I could help it. I am 

 right glad to say this, for he died not long after we 

 reached Hong Kong. 



Forenoon watch, four bells had struck, and many were 

 at church, when suddenly there came a cry of sharks ! 

 sharks! No row at a camp meeting ever more quickly 

 broke up a congregation. Every pew almost was in an 

 instant vacated. Prayers could be had daily; sharks 

 were a novelty. 1 had left my friend "Jibboom" and 

 gone forward on the topgallant forecastle, watching with 

 great interest two sharks just by our bow, with their 

 faithful friends the pilot fish; and some of the men had 

 rigged a chain and hook to the studding sail gear at the 

 foreyard, baited it with a good-sized piece of salt junk, 

 and lowered it to the shark , which seized hold of it and 

 swallowed it in a twmkling, when presto, change! two 

 dozen stout arms ran him up and over the bulwark on 

 deck; and then the fun began. It didn't seem to amuse 

 him very much, but how we fed him on "belaying pin 

 soup," capstan bars, belaying pins, anything to hit him 

 with; and all hands at him tooth and nail. It did not 

 take long to convert that fellow, I tell you, we beat the 

 captain hollow, and changed him instantly from a 

 shark to a jelly fish. How we did thump and belabor 

 him, to be sure, every man had his whack of shark; 

 and "last scene of all," we cut off his tail and hove 

 him overboard amid the cheers of his exultant captors. 

 Down went the tempting bait, the same process was gone 

 through, and up came No. 2. It was a bad day for 

 sharks. The second one was subject to the same heroic 

 treatment as No. 1 had had; if anything more so. But 

 the Captain, by this time thoroughly aroused (I woiddn't 

 have had his temper for his ship), and furious at the want 

 of decorum and taste of his parishioners, ran forward and 

 ordered the remaining shark to be thrown oA r erboard. So 

 over he went. We were anytrfing but a pacific crew on 

 the Pacific Ocean. However, should the "Old Salt" 

 happen by any chance to read this, which I very much 

 doubt, I hope it may relieve his excited feelings, as well 

 as interest him. to know that on that Sunday morning 

 "he got left out in the cold" — we didn't lose our shark. 

 Not much. Tom had passed a running bowline through 

 the shark's nose and secured him, and when the fish was 

 thrown overboard, "and peace with dove-like wings 

 brooded o'er us," that shark was quietly hauled on board, 

 his skull, jaws, and backbone cut out and distributed for 

 trophies. No. 1 was about 6ft. long. No. 3 about 8ft. I 



was very much interested in the curious formation of the 

 shark's skull; when skinned and scraped it looked very 

 much like the cast of the bust of a woman. 



Hardly had this episode passed away when we sighted 

 three or four canoes coming out to us from Lord North's 

 Island. This was a break in the monotouy of the voyage, 

 as good as a shark. Soon the canoes came alongside, full 

 of the tpieerest people imaginable, black as the ace of 

 spades, Avith bracelets of reeds round their arms, beads 

 and shells strung round their necks, naked save a sash 

 round their waist, their canoes loaded with shells and 

 fruit, tortoise shells, grasslines, etc. Some of the crea- 

 tures were by no means so bad looking, with fine large 

 black eyes and gentle countenances. Soon all hands were 

 busily engaged in trading, and I am hound to confess I 

 don't think we got very far ahead of these children of 

 nature. I traded off three old knives of hoop iron for 

 helmet shells, and a seidlitz powder with another; he 

 swallowed "paper and all but made an awful face. Old 

 bottles, nails, razors, scraps were in great demand. No 

 one was allowed on board save the chief. This illustrious 

 stranger was taken in and done for by tho captain, who 

 curtailed the services on this occasion for the benefit of 

 his royal highness. An old worthless musket worth 

 about $3 was handed over to his serene mightiness with 

 great pomp and ceremony in exchange for a bird of para- 

 dise, worth probably $50, which I saw long afterward or- 

 namenting the head of the captain's wife at a ball at 

 Hong Kong. His gracious majesty was also made the 

 joyful recipient of an old stove pipe hat, a dungaree shirt 

 and trousers and some few yards of ribbon. So he was 

 led to the gangway with ail the "pride and pomp and 

 circumstance" of ceremony imaginable, and went down 

 into his canoe full of smiles and honors. At a signal from 

 him away went the natives, while we gave the royal 

 sovereign three rousing cheers at parting. 



Not many day afterward, we struck a school of por- 

 poises, as we were bowling along with the northeast trade 

 winds. How easily and gracefully they sped along right 

 in front of our clipper. No trouble for those fellows to 

 "storm along my stormy," Here was a chance not to be 

 neglected. Jack, persistent grumbler that he is, would 

 rather eat porpoise. He don't hanker after shark when 

 he can get "sea hog." So Allen Hay. a Cape Cod man 

 and a royal sailor, armed himself with a harpoon, this 

 time "the old man" not objecting since he too was long- 

 ing for the flesh pots of Egypt. Hay went out by the 

 dolphin striker, and watching his chance drove his har- 

 poon well into a porpoise, and we brought him up on 

 deck as quickly as we had the shark. He weighed a great 

 deal more than any of my trout : and what a godsend to 

 us fresh meat was just then. To us, satiated with high 

 living, tired for once of pork and plum duff, washed down 

 with copious libations of S'wankey, i, e., vinegar and 

 sugar and water, this sea hog, as Jack calls him, came 

 welcome as the "first breath of spring." "Oui - doctor" 

 was " no slouch " of a cook and we lived high off of por- 

 poise while it lasted. Jack likes good victuals, and here 

 they were. Morning, noon and night we pegged away at 

 him. We feasted off of him, fried and roasted and frica- 

 seed. I've tried all sorts of delicacies and have eaten 

 almost everything edible, fish, flesh, and fowl ; but I can 

 shut my eyes, and even now almost fancy I can taste that 

 porpoise. Capt. Clayton. 



BROOK TROUT IN GEORGIA. 



HAVING often heard of brook trout in the mountains 

 of Georgia and North Carolina, I lately made a trip 

 over the North Georgia R. R. to Murphy, in North Caro- 

 lina, to look for them. But as under certain conditions 

 Salmo fontmalis assumes the brilliant variety of the 

 colors of the rainbow, so it also resembles the rainbow in 

 the quality of escaping from its pursuers. 



Murphy is a sleepy-looking mountain village, about as 

 old as Chicago, but containing only a few hunched peo- 

 ple. It lies in the fork of two tributaries of the Tennessee, 

 the Hiawassee and the Valley rivers; clear, swift streams 

 tumbling over ledges of rock and whirling in deep pools 

 in a very trout-bearing manner, but their only fish are 

 black bass (here called trout), perch, catfish, and some of 

 the sucker family, as I am informed, the rivers being at 

 the time of my visit too high for fishing with any pros- 

 pect of success. I employed my two days in riding about 

 the country, and climbing an accessible mountain. 



From a delightful boarding house near the village, kept 

 bv Professor Beal, one has a view of ranges of mountains 

 from 500 to 5,000ft. high. The Blue Ridge in Georgia, 

 and the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee and North 

 Carolina shut in the horizon. These are covered with a 

 heavy forest, and are filled with minerals; gold, copper, 

 iron, manganese, mica, talc and marble are some of the 

 most important — no coal, these mountains being too old 

 for that, or any traces of. organic life, as I learn from 

 Professor Beal, who is a skilled geologist and has a fine 

 cabinet of minerals. Indeed, he claims that these moun- 

 tains are the oldest in America, probably in the world. 



In the forest are to be be found a few bears, panthers 

 and deer; plenty of turkeys, ruffed grouse, quail, rabbits 

 and squirrels. The river bottoms afford rich natural 

 pastures for cattle and sheep, and bring good crops of 

 com, oats and wheat. 



Professor Beal, who has lived in this region more than 

 thirty years aid knows its fauna and flora as well as its 

 minerals, tells me that in some of its streams on the west 

 side the mountain brook trout are to be found, small, but 

 numerous. When he wants a mess he sends an Indian 

 into the wilderness, who brings him back a hundred small 

 trout for a dollar. 



The Snowbird Creek, sixteen miles from Murphy in the 

 woods, contains these fish; also one thirty miles away, 

 the Nantahala, has larger ones, and on it there is a tavern 

 where the angler can stay. These prospects seemed too 

 distant and uncertain to suit one whose days of tramping 

 the woods and wading streams had long passed away. 



The only adventure which befell me was on Mount 

 Butler, one of the lower mountains, 600ft, high, where 

 Professor Beal and I stumbled upon a pair of rattlesnakes 

 basking in the sun on a ledge of rocks at the summit. 

 These were killed and measured 3ft. long, with the thick- 

 ness of a man's wrist, and had each five rattles and a 

 button. They were the first that Mr. Beal had ever seen 

 on the mountain, though he often ascended it with his 

 friends, and they usually sat down on that ledge of rock, 

 and after many y ears' residence in Georgia and Florida, 

 I have never but once before met with a rattlesnake. 



S. C. C. 



Marietta, Georgia. 



FRESHETS, TROUT AND BLACK-FLIES. 



IT seems that the June freshet in the Maine trout 

 regions was rather severe on camping parties, es- 

 pecially those who were dwellers in tents. The rain in 

 the western part of the State began in the morning and 

 continued falling in torrents till past 12 o'clock of the next 

 day. The mountain streams were swollen to the highest 

 freshet pitch, and all fishing was precluded. This natur- 

 ally set the campers thinking about home, and the rule 

 was "go home." But in this direction all was not smooth 

 sailing, for there were rocks on the bottom of the swollen 

 streams which had to be forded — in one case the water 

 even flowing over a buckboard,with the horses swimming. 

 A party of four, said to belong in South Paris, Maine, 

 two prominent citizens of the town with their wives, are 

 said to have been caught by the storm, as they were en- 

 camped at the Narrows, Richardson Lake. They bore the 

 rain like martyrs, but everything was drenched through. 

 They gave up in disgust, and started for home. They 

 have camped on the same spot for a couple of seasons, 

 during their trouting trips, but they are sick of a tent, 

 and have applied for a lot to erect a permanent camp. 



But if these drenched sojourners in all the Maine woods 

 had but staid a day or two longer they would have been 

 rewarded for all then; wetting. The weather came out 

 warm and the streams soon fell to a reasonable pitch and 

 "of all the fishing I" as one enthusiastic gentleman re- 

 marked, who was fortunate enough to have been in the 

 woods when the rain was over. "The fishing was simply 

 wonderful! Big ones, too! We caught them by the 

 wholesale." Another party which reached the fishing 

 ground at the pond in the river, just below the Middle 

 Dam, soon after the rain was over, tells big stories about 

 the fish caught. The trout rose to the fly— large ones — 

 and even landlocked salmon, several of them were added 

 to their creels. This shows that the landlocked salmon 

 plant ng that has been in the river below the Middle Dam 

 has not been in vain. Capt. Farrar planted a large num- 

 ber in that river two or three years ago. The landlockers 

 caught were small, indicating that they may have come* 

 from that planting. There are chances, it is true, that 

 they may have come from the lakes above or even below, 

 but it is easier and more reasonable to imagine that they 

 are the fish planted in the river. 



The Union Waterpower Co. has worked the gates at 

 the Upper Dam and at the Middle Dam this season. The 

 gates were first put up at the Middle Dam early in June, 

 and the Upper and the Lower Richardson lakes were 

 drawn down Oft. — the lowest since the last flowage was 

 put on. The gates at the same time were closed at the 

 Upper Dam, and a great change took place in the loca- 

 tion of trout fishing at that point. In one instance great 

 trout were left in a pool just below the mill at the Upper 

 Dam, and some of them were taken. Those who saw 

 them were much surprised at their size and the way they 

 lay quiet on the bottom, very much the same as the same 

 fish on the spawning beds. Above the clam, also, there 

 was a wonder in the fishing line. A great many trout 

 were taken on the fly in the still water just above the 

 closed gates. The fish seemed to be disturbed by some- 

 thing, and it is suggested that they desired to pasB down 

 the river into the lake or the rapid waters of the river be- 

 low the dam. Father O'Brien, the well-known Catholic 

 priest of Cambridge, Mass., was there. The trout were 

 first seen on Sunday, but the reverend father waited till 

 the Sabbath of his church had closed, and then he went 

 for the trout. On this occasion, as well as many others, 

 he made a big haul. He is an enthusiast at trout fishing, 

 and he has made trips to this celebrated trouting place 

 annually for several years. 



It is reported that the "pestiferous black-fly" has been 

 more numerous and more troublesome tp the seeker for 

 trout and waters cool than ever before. They have bitten 

 without mercy. But now comes a new theory concern- 

 ing them. The guides, some of them, say that the black- 

 fly hides in the cedars and other evergreens only. The 

 theory is to cut and burn all the evergreen trees" around 

 your camp and thus escape the black-flies. I do not care 

 to vouch for the success of this plan, but perhaps it would 

 be safe enough, for to cut all the evergreen trees around 

 one's camp and burn them out of the way would be some- 

 thing of a job, besides exciting the ire of the lumberman. 

 But the black-flies are said to have been followed by 

 midges, and the poor camper has had a hard time of it. 

 The driver of a buckboard over one of the lake roads in 

 eastern Maine is said to have hit upon a plan. He makes 

 a smudge in an iron kettle, sets it a going and coolly 

 places it between his legs on his team. In this way he is 

 not welcomed by the flies. In short, they despise him. 



Special. 



On Green River. — On July 6 the writer, accompanied 

 by two friends, ascended Green River, a large stream of 

 clear, cold water free from rocks, about ten rods wide, 

 which empties into the St. John near the northern ter- 

 minus of the New Brunswick Railway. The party was 

 on the river three or four days. As the water was high 

 the trout were scattered all over it, having deserted the 

 pools; sufficient were however taken from the canoes by 

 two of the party to afford an ample supply of delicious 

 fish to all at every meal. The river, which runs through 

 a forest-covered country, is bounded by high, hard wood 

 covered hills, and at its ordinary height is accessible by 

 canoes to its sources. The canoe in which the writer was 

 carried was propelled by an Acadian Frenchman and his 

 eon, a boy about fourteen years of age, who knew only a 

 word or two of English, but who was remarkably bright. 

 He seemed to think that our fishermen, with their long 

 fines and curious flies, were not doing so good work as he 

 thought they ought to do, or such as he coidd have done 

 with his own hook, so as we ran our cahoe ashore for a 

 few moments he jumped out and taking a fork in one 

 hand and his pole in the other, commenced turning over 

 the stones with the pole as rapidly as possible, and sud- 

 denly darting down his fork into the water brought it up, 

 a big-headed little fish with a very tapering tail impaled 

 upon it. The fish was about two or three inches long. 

 He wished us to try this as a bait, as it was the best he 

 knew of. This fish was a small species of loche or euski 

 The rising water had turned the stones over in many 

 places, and the trout, which were wandering over the 

 whole river, had such an ample supply of tneir favorite 

 food that they disdained to seize the glittering fly which 

 skipped so temptingly over the translucent water above 

 tbeir heads.— Edward Jack (Frederieton, New Bruns- 

 wick. July 16). 



