4SS 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 4, 1889. 



a comfortable camp and a glorious fire we had that night. | 

 The nights were getting cold, ice formed in the dishes, 

 every morning we awoke chilled and shivering, of 

 twenty-two days in the woods only five had b^en free 

 from rain or snow, clothing and blankets were nearly 

 always damp, the ground very wet and streams at nearly 

 freshet height. From Round Pond we ran to Chesun- 

 cook, only taking the canoes once or twice from the 

 water. Stopping one night at Chesuncook, we paddled 

 from there to the Northeast Cany the following day, 

 through a country white with snow. 



Then we returned to our homes to pick up again the 

 many threads of which each busy man weaves the fabric 

 of his life? ^Eincr and stronger will this fabric be for the 

 days passed 4J f mountain, lake and stream — more patient 

 the workei Jwe cheerful the toil for the hope of many 

 other like 'Mbpy days to come. . F. T. 



PKOV ' r, i^ y Khode Island. 



TROUTING ON THE SOUTH BOARDMAN. 



I'd rather win the river's prize 



Than scenes of gay resort; 

 To me this trout of varied dyes 



Is richer than a court, 



'T 1 HERE is a charm in trouting that leads the ardent 

 JL devotee of the rod into close and intimate commu- 

 'ion with nature. As he wades the winding brook and 

 gracefully circles his feathery lure upon the crystal 

 waters, new beauties unfold themselves on every side. 

 At his very feet the crimson-tipped flowers peep out of 

 the waving grasses, overhead a bluebird or oriole delights 

 with its sweet notes; beyond an aroused squirrel retreats 

 into leafy haunt with frightened alacrity: here and there 

 the swallow and the trout spring for the bright May fly; 

 in the bright glades "the gaudy insects sparkle like ani- 

 mated gems in the sunbeams"; the twittering water birds 

 are on the flowers and leaves of the lily; the dense and 

 shady woods with their mossy fountains and green re- 

 treats woo him to ease and dreamy indolence. How 

 musical to his ears, when again aroused to enthusiasm, 

 as he threads his way, is the "familiar tinkling of 

 the cow bells" and the hammered notes of the mottled 

 woodpecker from the hollow tree! How sweetly is he 

 lulled as he hears 



The waters leap and gush 



O'er channeled rock and broken bush. 



Here is a trout to his creel, there a sylvan poem to Ins 

 eye; and thus alternating, he concludes his sport in the 

 calm and balmy evening amid sweet carols from bush 

 and brake, fully realizing those pastoral scenes 



"Of fair, sunny glades, where the buttercup springs; 

 Of cool, gushing fountains; of rose-tinted wings; 

 Of birds, bees and blossoms, all beautiful things, 

 Whose brightness rejoices the earth." 



The "gentle art" amid such surroundings has been 

 pronounced by Sir Henry Wotton to be "a rest to the mind, 

 a cheerer of the spirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer of 

 unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions, a procurer of 

 contentedness." 



While indulging in such pleasing meditations of "the 

 contemplative man's recreation," a genuine disciple of 

 the Guild set forth in glowing terms the enticing sport to 

 be had with the dappled beauties on the South Board- 

 mau, a stream which empties iuto Lake Michigan at 

 Grand Traverse. I was a luxurious idler at the time the 

 golden visions of the trout beautiful were so deftly 

 painted, and the contagion was so great then that the 

 next train aor£h ironi Grand Rapids found me aboard, 

 fully prepared to sport in the swift waters of the famous 

 river. At Walton, which place I reached about 5 P. M., 

 I changed cars for Mayheld, my destination, which I 

 reached in about half an hour. The landlord of the tav- 

 ern was there to give me cordial welcome, and doubtless 

 figured out then how many ducats I would be worth to 

 Mm. Of course the fame of the great trout stream of 

 Michigan lost nothing of its prestige with him. for he 

 surfeited me with trout stories of such startling magni- 

 tude that I began to think that I had at last reached the 

 anglers' paradise. I noticed, however, that he frequently 

 interlarded his recitals with the significant little word 

 "if," which prefaced the conditions of weather and water. 

 This was the loophole for all, escapes in case of failure to 

 practically substantiate his questionable mathematics. 

 He was, however, an excellent trouter and equally as 

 good hunter, and apparently very agreeable and accom- 

 modating. 



I made all arrangements before retiring that night for 

 the trip to the South Boardnian early the next morning. 

 I was to take team, boat and guide, and by going about 

 due east some five miles or more, would strike the stream 

 so as to have seven miles of fishing, more than was neces- 

 sary, particularly when one had to wade the greater part 

 of it. The trout romances of the landlord and an angler 

 from Chicago, who happened to be a guest at the house 

 at this time, were so deeply impressed upon my mind 

 wheal I courted sleep that night that I was kept in a very 

 pleasant frame of mind, when I had once soared into 

 dreamland, by capturing specified beautiesof great game 

 qualities and unusual weight. A five pounder was a tri- 

 vial affair, and when at last I had hung a jeweled beauty 

 which I vvas sure was a ten-pounder, and which was giv- 

 ing me most earnest play, a loud knocking at my door 

 aroused me, aud dissipated all prospects of my ever 

 saving that magnificent trout. il Half-past four" was the 

 unwelcome cry, and in response with an "all right," I 

 hastily rose, quickly dressed, and was soon down-stairs 

 enjoying my matutinal meal. There, also, was the 

 Chicago angler, who had regaled me the evening before 

 with such seductive fairy tales of the fin, dressed as if 

 for an outing. On inquiring of him if he, too, were off 

 for the home of the trout, and where, he very calmly re- 

 plied that he intended to accompany me. This was 

 pleasant of the self-invited . even though it were cheeky, 

 from the fact that it would not only reduce my expenses 

 for the trip one-half, but give me a genial companion, as 

 I thought, and one whose only fatdt I then supposed was 

 the possession of a too lively imagination when he in- 

 dulged in his favorite theme, the trout. 



We were about to start when the landlord came out, 

 rifle in hand, and joined us, saying he would go down the 

 road with us and see if he could not secure a little game. 

 On asking what kind of game he was after he replied, 

 "mountain sheep." This, to the initiated, means deer, 

 and as it was then the close season for the antlered breed 

 I gave him to understand distinctly that he was about to 



violate a law sacred to every genuine sportsman, and 

 hoped he wotdd acquiesce in it. He laughed and replied 

 that he only wanted a little wild meat for immediate use, 

 and presumed no one would object to it, as long as he did 

 not slay for the market. The farmers in that neighbor- 

 hood, he further stated, always took the liberty of killing 

 a deer when they felt their larder needed some choice 

 meat. As he was not inclined to heed my admonition, 

 he got in the wagon and we started off at a lively gait, 

 and were soon going through the deep, sunless forest 

 which prevailed nearly the entire distance, only a slight 

 clearing here and there being seen. It was a good hard 

 road all the way, and as it was in the month of June, 

 nature was in its most regal dress, the birds in full plum- 

 age and voice, and the flowers and ferns and mosses along 

 the route highly attractive. The sun, which was scarcely 

 an hour high, was rapidly painting the tree tops in rich 

 and varied colors of crimson and gold as we ascended the 

 top of a high hill. The long bright rays at this altitude 

 seemed to give us a cheerful morning salutation. They 

 flashed with radiant vigor upon the tall, scarlet maples, 

 now they pierced between clumps of pine, making their 

 black edges flush and glow, then boldly strike the spread- 

 ing branches of some stately elms, and again in brilliant 

 ripples of warm waves dash into the bushes and brakes 

 of the lovely glades, while on the roadside the impudent 

 sparrows and pretty robins bathed in its glowing beams. 

 On high the lyric lark sang his native hymn as if to add 

 to the charm of the sylvan scene with which we were 

 environed, an'? which was still further beautified by the 

 fleecy clouds that lazily drifted above in the dome of 

 blue. These were our pleasing accompaniments as we 

 sought the crystal stream for our tranquil pleasures. 



The landlord would ask every now and then to have 

 the team stopped that he might look for deer tracks, 

 until finally I got provoked, and gave him notice in plain 

 Saxon that, as I had engaged the entire outfit for my 

 trouting trip, I proposed without further delay to keep 

 on to my destination. After that, if he was disposed, he 

 could pursue his lawless course to his heart's content. 

 My associate had little to say to this, though I noticed he 

 was only too eager to always please and always agree 

 with the poaching landlord. They appeared to be old 

 acquaintances, and I presume this accounted for it. An 

 hour's drive and we stopped at a deserted lumberman's 

 camp, which overlooked the flowing Boardman, and here 

 made our preparation for the fishing. I saw that the 

 river was quite high from recent rains, and this condition 

 I have always found unfavorable for good trouting. The 

 stream, which was here about fifty feet wide, has a strong 

 current and flows entirely through a bed of sand, is 

 always clear, and when in proper stage of water, with 

 favorable weather, is considered one of the best trout 

 streams in Michigan, if not the best. Lately, however, 

 the industrious lumbermen have invaded these regions, 

 and are now annually using the stream for lumbering, 

 and this alone has militated very much against its pisca- 

 torial pleasures! All fallen timber is cleared from the 

 stream in the early spring, and thus the shady retreats in 

 which the trout like to gather and disport are destroyed, 

 and consequently they seek other waters, or go into the 

 impenetrable jungles near the sources of the stream. 

 Still, when the Spring drive of logs is over the river affords 

 considerable sport to trouter?, of which there are about 

 fifty every season. 



I was quite ardent for the sport before me and in a 

 twinkle had my pole and line adjusted, and then getting 

 into a pair of rabber wading trousers, placing my creel 

 over my shoulder, and strapping on bait box, and hooking 

 my landing net in my belt, was all ready to step into 

 the swift-flowing current. The guide and the landlord 

 slid the boat, which was a clumsy scow, down the hill 

 into the river. All being ready the guide was directed 

 to take the boat about a mile down the stream, aud there 

 anchor it, and then as he was prepared for fishing, to go 

 ahead with his trouting, and we would overtake him 

 with the boat, and take it on another mile, and thus al- 

 ternating so as always to have new grounds. 



My companion, who was familiarly called Fred by the 

 landlord, advised me to use bait, declaring that it was en- 

 tirely too late in the season to expect trout to rise to any 

 fly, no matter how perfect or seductive its appearance. 

 1 was satisfied he was correct, but still my rule was 

 always to first use the feathery lure and then, if I found 

 the trout would not rise to it, I was content to take rank 

 as a contemptible bait-fisher, despite the success of the 

 great elect whose only heaven is the fly artificial. Fish- 

 ing with the worm is a branch of the angler's art which 

 has only of late years been properly calculated and 

 which by many good sportsmen is as yet but imperfectly 

 understood. It is no uncommon tiling even at present, 

 to meet with veteran fishers who, forming their ideas 

 from bait-fishing in flooded streams, sneer at worm fish- 

 ing as utterly beneath the notice of the practical angler. 



An entertaining writer says, "To each one of our ang- 

 ling brethren who is a proficient in this art. and who, 

 therefore, knows its difficulty, we say, never argue with 

 any fly-fisher who despises the worm-fisher's craft, but 

 ask him to accompany you to a well-fished stream for a 

 day's sport on a warm and sunny day. He will request 

 you to lend him a few worms before you have fished an 

 hour, when he sees your basket beginning to fill. Give 

 them to him and leave him to his devices — the trout will 

 be in little danger. Do not press the contrast between 

 your wehVfilled creel and his empty one on your home- 

 ward route: human nature is human nature, and he will 

 be in no humor for joking for that evening at least. You 

 may, however, recur to the subject when you meet a few 

 days after, and you will find him prepared to admit that 

 clear-water worm-fishing is a worthy branch of the ang- 

 ler's art." Even the poet Gay comes to the rescue of "the 

 much-abused user of the "barn yard hackle," and thus 

 advises in flowing verse how to select the contemptuous 

 worm. He says: 



"You must not every worm promiscuous use, 

 J udgment will tell the proper bait to choose; 

 The worm that draws a long, immod'rate size 

 The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies; 

 And if too small, the naked frauds in sight, 

 And fear forb ! ds while danger does invite. 

 Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains 

 Whose polish'd tails a shining yellow stains. 

 Cleanse them from filth, to give a tempting gloss, 

 Cherish the sully'd reptile then with moss; 

 Amid the verdant bed they twine, thev toil, 

 And from their bodies wipe their native, soil." 

 Fred suggested that I take one side of the river and he 



the other, and I told him to select his side. He took the 

 right-hand side, and I, of course, the left, and we then 

 waded in and commenced the sport. He caught the first 

 trout, the second and the third, and yet I held on to my 

 flies, which I had changed two or three times and with- 

 out getting a single rise. Bait-fishing stock was soon 

 above premium with me, and when I saw his fourth trout 

 go into his creel, I waded ashore and prepared my line 

 for bait-fishing. I was soon ready, and when I reached 

 a very inviting spot I was compensated with an 8-inch 

 trout. I cut off a fin of this trout and used it in place of 

 the worm, and soon ascertained that it doubly discounted 

 the worm, as it was far more attractive, and yet had suf- 

 ficient meat upon it to make it a choice morsel for the 

 greedy trout. I had tried it on other occasions and found 

 that it always worked to a charm. When I came up to 

 Fred I discovered that he also was skittering a fin, and 

 had been since the capture of his first trout. He said 

 if I would cover the barb of the hook with a piece of 

 worm, that it would still further improve the killing 

 qualities of the fin. I tried the plan, and found that it 

 worked admirably. Fred showed me a beautifully 

 spotted trout of over a pound weight he had taken, and 

 yet I had not even a half-pounder as a solace. X, how- 

 ever, had high hopes of coming out all right on the 

 homestretch, and was not at all disheartened at the good 

 start he had over me. He was evidently a splendid 

 trouter, much better than myself, I thought, and fished 

 with an untiring energy that I was unable to equal. He 

 had no "wading trousers," and the water was so cold that 

 it turned bis lips to a purple hue. He, however, endeav- 

 ored to keep up a good circulation by occasional visits of 

 the flask to his lips, which I began to think would soon 

 exhaust its contents, as his drafts were quite copious in- 

 deed. It was evident to me that he had the best side of 

 the stream, for all the deep water and choice places were 

 apparently there. I saw that I was to be largely out- 

 numbered in trophies unless I changed my tactics; so I 

 concluded to let him get well ahead of me, and then take 

 his side when I came to inviting pools. He was fishing 

 quite fast, and tarried but little to coax the dotted beau- 

 ties from their deep bowers. ' I found that my new 

 scheme worked advantageously, for the first inviting 

 place on his side that I fished yielded me a pounder that 

 gave me delightful sport. 



A short distance beyond this there was a prostrate tree 

 in the water with some alder bushes and willows on the 

 bank, throwing their shadows o'er the stream, and where 

 some unseen warblers were making the woods vocal with 

 their sweet melody. It was a charming spot, and just 

 the place to harbor a trout or two. I approached it with 

 cautious steps, and when at the proper distance dropped 

 my attractive bait gently on the shady water, and after 

 letting it sink a trifle made the fin qufver to fine advan- 

 tage. It had made but a few tremors before I sa w a 

 gleam of silver, then a sudden and vicious bite followed, 

 and as the wrist responded I was hung to a lovely darling, 

 and then the circus commenced: 



"He darts away; my reel runs oft', 

 Around, around it goes. 

 I give him line, he carries off, 



My pulse excited glows. 

 What sport can equal joys like this ! 

 My rod now bends in two; 

 Will such a hook 

 Withstand the brook? 

 Will this my line prove true? 

 "Now 'tis out, 'tis full at strain, 

 I fear 'twill scarcely stand; 

 The topmost joint is bent in twain, 



It shakes my nervous hand. 

 It slackens now, he's tired out, 

 I wind my well-tried reel. 

 And gently strain 

 My line again. 

 Till trouty's strength I feel." 



Like a warrior bold he fights and will not yield a 

 craven foe. Away he goes like a speeding arrow for the 

 tangled brush, but at the risk of line or rod I head him 

 off, and draw him near the bank where I proposed to 

 conquer him if possible. Again he make a rush for the 

 coveted brush, but is adroitly baffled, He is now strug- 

 gling in his death throes, but once more he makes a des- 

 perate effort for liberty; it fails, and his strength is now 

 fast running out. I draw his head above the flowing 

 current, and for the first time I have a good view of his 

 large proportions. His size fills me with glowing pride, 

 and with great care I persevere for the supremacy, and 

 finally am rejoiced to see him turn up a dotted side to the 

 glinting sun as an acknowledgment of the triumph of 

 the skillful angler. I gently glide him into the net, and 

 carefully take him ashore, where I feast my eyes on the 

 noble prize. In the bright sun his graceful symmetry 

 enveloped in his sparkling coat of stained crimson is out- 

 lined in full perfection, completing as lovely a picture of 

 the genuine Salmo fontinalis, the enameled idol of the: 

 icy brook, as gladdened eyes of angler ever beheld. Tb.es 

 scales register him a three- pounder. 



Time must not be lost in gloating over such a hand- 

 some prize, for there are other worlds to conquer if I de- 

 sired to be crowned with the laurel before the day's 

 happy work is over. I try the same place again, and 

 secure two more of little less than a half pound each. 

 The pool is now completely stripped of its dappled beau- 

 ties, and I hasten along, drinking in the glories of the 

 charming scenery, and enjoying the linnet's note and the 

 blackbird's song that sound in the tangled brakes. I am 

 now getting my full share of trout and think I can com- 

 pare my spoils quite favorably with my industrious com- 

 panion's. The boat is just ahead with Fred patiently 

 waiting for me. I hasten forward, get aboard and we 

 are off floating at the rate of six miles or more an hour. 

 A keen lookout has to be constantly kept at the serpen- 

 tine curves of the river for fear of suddenly running 

 into the trees that have fallen into the stream. Fred 

 steers while I have my hand on anchor ready to drop at 

 a moment's notice, for should we accidentally strike one of 

 the prostrate trees it would be an upturned boat, and 

 probably a drowned angler, for once entangled in the in- 

 terlacing branches under water, escape in the swift cur- 

 rent is not easy I assure you. I hove the anchor but 

 once, barely escaping the dangerous branches. At such 

 places we would get into the water and pull the boat 

 around and then float ahead. We soon overhauled the 

 guide, went a mile beyond him, then anchored and com- 

 menced the angle again. I repeated the same methods. 



