332 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 15, 1890. 



TROUT AT SYLVAN LAKE. 



"'T'ROUT or no trout," this was a serious question. Be- 

 JL fore long, if our map is true, the lake would be be- 

 fore us and upon its shores we would encamp for a week. 

 Should salt pork and beans be our ration or should we re- 

 turn at nightfall, after a- day's tramping or riding, to find 

 an appetizing odor of trout to greet us. It may seem a 

 very material way to put it, but to us at that time it was 

 a very real and very pertinent question, and would not 

 be put aside. 



For hours our wearied pack train and our no less weary 

 selves had climbed and vaulted, and stumbled and 

 plunged through uncounted acres of fallen timber. Ever 

 shifting, ever turning and seeking new outlets from its 

 blind labyrinths, thick grown with young pines, a rising 

 generation who were replacing the past. At last, wearied 

 and baffled to desperation, we had reached a steep bank 

 down which we tumultuously plunged to the bottom 

 below, then we forced our horses through thick growths 

 of willow, so dense that as one expressed it, ,- he could 

 not see his horse's ears, and so reached at last the oppo- 

 site hillside where we found a better trail. And now we 

 climbed to reach the alpine valley, hid far up in the 

 mighty range above us, in whose depths reposed a lake, 

 Sylvan by name and also, we hoped, by nature. And on 

 and upward, steadily hour by hour we climbed. Below 

 us, through the canon, ran the stream, which grew 

 steadily smaller as one by one we crossed its tributaries, 

 coming down the side valleys. 



Sometimes our winding way led us down and across the 

 brook, where our horses stopped to take long draughts, 

 while we looked at the elk tracks deeply marked at the 

 crossings. Then on and upward again toward a tall 

 brown mountain, whose snow-patched sides cut a rugged 

 silhouette against the sky. Presently we crossed a little 

 opening and up started two black-tailed does, pretty, 

 graceful creatures, who stood with outstretched ears and 

 big round wondering eyes as our train filed along. Away 

 they went, but presently curiosity became stronger than 

 fear, and they came back to watch us; and so we left 

 them peering from the bushes a hundred yards away. 

 And now we ride on through the woods, then through a 

 vast open meadow, checkered with patches of willows 

 beside the murmuring brook, with here and there a 

 beaver dam. The valley is now nearly level, we are 

 almost at the top of the divide, the lake cannot be far 

 away. "We enter the sunlit aisles of the woods. Up here 

 it is an alpine springtime, the air is heavy with the fra- 

 grance of innumerable wild flowers, the green moss 

 springs under the feet of our horses* the air is fresh, 

 balmy and delightful, a sense of joy and peace steals over 

 us. Now we see a little hill rising in the open pine woods, 

 we reach the top of it, it is an old glacial moraine; dimly 

 thr ough the trees on either side of the narrow valley the 

 tall mountains rise, and we can almost feel the cool wind 

 from their snow-patched brows. Arrived at the top of 

 the hill, a silver shining gleams through the trees before 

 us— the lake at last. 



We ride down to the bank, and a fairy scene opens. 

 The lake stretches away for half a mile, with a width of 

 several hundred yards. On all sides a splendid open pine 

 forest comes down to within a few feet of its banks. 

 There is no brush, no fallen timber, no decay anywhere, 

 all is fresh, green and delightful. Nor is there any shore, 

 for on all sides from the foot of the trees runs into the 

 water a fine, soft turf of grass, running back in several 

 places into little meadows of a rich green. Through one 

 of these an icy cold brook runs into the lake, fed by the 

 snows on the mountain far above. The lake is full, the 

 clear, cold water rises into the greensward around it; 

 truly it is an ideal spot, the bright water, the green grass, 

 the tall forest around it and the background of mighty 

 mountains; had art improved upon nature it could not 

 have been bettered. But was it the play of Hamlet with 

 Hamlet left out— did it contain trout? This was the 

 question that kept chasing through our minds and rose to 

 our lips as we stole glances at its shining surface, riding 

 through the woods to the meadow at the upper end. 

 Suddenly, as if in answer to our. question, I saw a silvery 

 form dart from the water, hang for a fraction of a sec- 

 ond in the [air, and fall back with a musical splash. It 

 did hold trout, and now camp cannot be made too soon. 



Hastily we rode out into the meadow, the mules are 

 unpacked, our horses unsaddled under a great pine, and 

 the freed animals are rolling with delight in the soft 

 green grass. Our tents are pitched, the beds unrolled 

 therein, our baggage stored, and while this is going on 

 the cook is making his fire and getting his grate ready 

 and firewood collected under a tree near the water's edge. 



And now the time of action patiently waited for has 

 arrived, and unscrewing the brass case, the rod is brought 

 forth, mounted and rigged. Before choosing a cast of 

 flies I glance out at the lake. The sun is now far down 

 in the west, and the shadows of the woods and mountains 

 are beginning to creep across the water, a colder breath 

 is in the air, of the myriad insect life that danced a short 

 time ago in the sunlit air, many are falling, chilled, to a 

 watery grave, the moths, children of the night, are be- 

 ginning to flutter along the surface of the lake. In- 

 numerable dimples are spreading here and there, a con- 

 stant succession of splashes with now and then the figure 

 of a trout in air attest the fact that the fish are at their 

 evening meal. I see nothing that indicates the presence 

 of any monsters, why should I, the lake is but a little 

 one after all. I choose a coachman, that old reliable, for 

 my stretcher, and a yellow-may for the dropper, both on 

 No. 10 hooks, and walking round toward a point I com- 

 mence casting. After two or three casts I see a sunken 

 log to my right and about 30ft. from shore. The water 

 is about 4ft. deep. I cast over it, and immediately the 

 stretcher is taken with a fierce rush. After a brief fight 

 I take a half-pound trout ashore. Another cast and 

 another trout, a little smaller, and another, and still 

 another, as fast as may be, until six lie on the shore, when 

 they slacken. I walk down a few feet to a little point, 

 and here, without moving, I take about a dozen, running 

 from a quarter to half a pound, as fast as the fly can be 

 thrown. At this point the cook shouts that he wants the 

 fish for supper; so reluctantly I gather tip the spoils and 

 return to camp, and they are soon in the pan. How 

 many trout we ate that night I shall not relate, however 

 we had enough, and while eating— our table not 15ft! 

 from the water's edge— we beheld a sight that would 

 have warmed the cockles of your hearts, ye patient 

 fishers of our much-skinned Eastern streams and lakes 

 It was just toward dusk, a great flight of moths were out' 

 aid in every direction the lake was boiling with leaping 



fish. I could not resist the sight, and hastily bolting the 

 last mouthfuls I made for that point again, accompanied 

 by Provo, who would land my fish and take a lesson in 

 the art. And here for a brief time till dark I cast and 

 caught, and cast and caught till satisfied, and we then 

 returned to our camp-fire. 



As the enthusiasm ran so high that night and we would 

 be here a week, I foresaw we would soon have more fish 

 on hand than could be consumed , and so I suggested to 

 our packers that the next day they should build a fish 

 corral, into which our prizes could be conveyed alive and 

 from which we could take them as needed and release 

 the surplus at our departure. This notion tickled them 

 mightily — horses and cows and sheep they had im- 

 pounded, but fish were a novelty. 



The next day Provo and I took a long trip, climbing 

 the mountain facing our camp; on our return toward 

 evening the corral had been built, the men had been fish- 

 ing all day with flies I gave them, using slender poles 

 cut in the forest for rods. There were already a goodly 

 number of speckled fellows swimming round in the cor- 

 ral and now and then rubbing their noses against the 

 stakes and looking up as if wondering what in the world 

 they were doing there. None were above half a pound in 

 weight and very few under a quarter, and this average 

 obtained among all those we caught during our week's 

 stay in this delightful spot. 



We had hot trout for supper that night — we had had 

 them cold for dinner, some of those that were hot at 

 breakfast; — and we decided they were better hot than 

 cold, though we thought it well to eat them cold, as we 

 enjoyed the hot ones more. This rule established, the 

 spectre of bacon that had pursued us to this point sank to 

 rest in the frying pan, where it aided the trout to cook, 

 and not once for that three week's trip did it arise again. 

 And at the end of three weeks, when we had eaten trout 

 three times every day, we still voted trout^were better 

 than bacon, which proves what very good trout they 

 were. 



After supper, as the fish were rising all over the lake 

 as before, Provo and I took the rod and went down to 

 the little point, and here, after catching a half dozen all 

 too quickly I gave the rod to him, and he started in for 

 his first lesson in fly- casting. He proved a very apt be- 

 ginner and was highly interested, as indeed what begin- 

 ner would not be? no matter whether his casts were good 

 or bad, when they were nearly every one attended by a 

 rise. And this also showed that striking properly is a 

 beginner's chief difficulty, as although so many rose to 

 his flies he hooked very few. However, he caught a fair 

 number, which along with mine were carried back in the 

 bucket and placed in the corral, and expressed himself 

 as highly pleased at the sport, 



And this experience we repeated every evening, limit- 

 ing our number to six each. We tried experiments also, 

 and to make it all the more difficult, to catch these six, 

 which always happened too quickly in the vast number 

 of rises one received , I chose delicate flies, English midges, 

 tied on - No. 20 hooks. When the little hooks got a f ait- 

 chance, however, they held like iron, and no more fish 

 escaped them than from the larger sizes. 



Once here, also, I saw a curious sight which will in- 

 terest anglers who argue on the insensibility to pain 

 question. In a tiny little bay, where the limpid water 

 was about a foot in depth, we saw from the bank above 

 a large trout slowly circling round, and now and then 

 rising in a languid way to suck in some unwary insect. 

 Provo stole around in the forest fringe and crept down 

 the bank behind a little tree, while I remained in the gal- 

 lery, so to speak, to watch the action on the stage. After 

 a cast or two the trout woke up, and took the fly cast 

 gently out at him with a sudden and savage rush, very 

 different indeed from his former method of feeding. 

 There was a fierce struggle on the water top for a moment, 

 but Provo was somewhat excited and a little too eager, 

 and broke the hold of the hook. The trout started round 

 in c ircles and went back to his former station. Prom the 

 gallery he could be seen plainly, as if in air, and I 

 directed Provo to cast again. This he did with the same 

 result as before— a fierce struggle and the hook was torn 

 out. At a third attempt the trout was finally landed, 

 with his mouth torn and bleeding. There was no possi- 

 bility of any mistake in all this, for the fish was in plain 

 sight during the whole performance. Seems like insen- 

 sibility to pain to me. 



Finally the day of departure from this charming spot 

 arrived all too soon. The tents were struck, the mules 

 packed, the horses saddled, and we were ready to depart. 

 Before leaving we went down and pulled up the stakeB 

 of the corral and a crowd of wondering trout swam 

 slowly in schools out into the lake. Curious tales they 

 must have had to tell, and I suppose they are still won- 

 dering. Percyval. 



How to Catch Big Trout. — A veteran Wilkesbarre 

 (Pa.,) angler tells the following incident of his own ex- 

 perience: "Several years ago Ernest and I took the train 

 to Tobyhanna station on a fishing trip. While on the 

 way to the stream we met an elegant gentleman, all rig- 

 ged out with fine split-bamboo rod, velveteen suit, fly- 

 book, creel, landing net and everything as bright' as a 

 new pin. He showed us his catch, which included a 

 beautiful trout fully 18in. long and weighing over 21 bs. 

 With the fullest details he related the history of its cap- 

 ture after a struggle lasting a half hour. His sensations 

 when the net encircled its glorious prize were duly set 

 forth. Of course we congratulated him on his superb 

 success. Two or three days later I landed a very nice 

 trout from the same stream, some distance below where 

 we met the skillful angler with the immaculate outfit, 

 and I remarked to Ernest, 'That's a fine trout.' At this 

 moment a boy who lives in the neighborhood, overhearing 

 my remark said, 'Why, mister, he ain't no touch to the 

 fish my brother caught here a few days ago.' 'How big 

 was it?' 'Why, it was more than 18in. and weighed over 

 21bs., and a blamed fool from New York came along and 

 gave him a five dollar bill for it.' " 



Penobscot Salmon.— Bangor, Me., May 12.— The Pen- 

 obscot River is at flood now. Will be good fishing at the 

 pools as 60on as water commences falling, the middle or 

 last of the week. Many fish are seen jumping in the 

 stream below the dam. Water too foul for fishing.— S. 



To Salmon Anolbhs.— T. J. Conroy. 85 Fulton street. N Y 

 nas a lor of flue salmon rods, assorted kinds, which he will sell at 

 a sacrifice until stock ia reduced. D^n't miss the opportunity.— 



CHICAGO AND THE WEST, 



CHICAGO, 111., May 9. — Fishing news remains mostly 

 in the future so far, especially for trout. Cold 

 weather and heavy rains and even five inches of snow 

 within the past week, have kept back the trout season 

 pretty much all over northern Wisconsin. News of this 

 kind prevented Mr. C. S. Burton, of the Kankakpe, and 

 Fred C. Donald, General Passenger Agent of the Chicago 

 & Atlantic, from a sample run up the Milwaukee & 

 Northern to either Floodwood, Witch Lake, the Paint or 

 the Fence River country. In this trip the writer was to 

 have joined and the start was to have been to-night, but 

 that is all off, for it would not be worth while to go. The 

 streams are very high and muddy all over the country 

 now, and Mr. Tabberner, General Agent of the M. & N. , 

 who is just back from a trip through that country, says 

 it would be best to wait a week or two before going in. 

 There is a very strong sporting element among the offi- 

 cials of that road. Mr. C. F. Button, General Manager, 

 and Mr. W. B. Sheardovvn. General Passenger Agent, are 

 also very ardent anglers, and just now can't sit still, they 

 want to go trout fishing so bad. I believe I mentioned 

 Mr. Dutton's catch of 4U0 trout on the Pike last season, 

 and this season he claims he has a spot located where he 

 is going to break all previous records. 



The Witch Lake country is no longer a secret, for that 

 water was fished pretty well last summer. Mr. Shear- 

 down took one trout there which weighed 3jlbs. Another 

 was caught weighing 5£lbs. These big trout are irregu- 

 lar in their humor and were taken on live bait. There 

 have come down stories of some big trout taken on the 

 Fence this spring, but I do not know where, and no one 

 claims that the season has fairly begun yet. 



I have not heard from the Middle Inlet and Ellis Junc- 

 tion country that I visited last summer, but presume that 

 a good many trout will be taken in the inlets of Noque- 

 bay, in the Peshtigo and in the Thunder River country. 

 There should be good fly-fishing in the big rapids of the 

 Peshtigo, not far from Ellis Junction, as soon as the 

 water gets right. The trout there go as high as 3 and 

 41bs., as 1 can testify; yet only a favored few know this 

 stream favorably, and you will hear all through that 

 country that there are "no trout in the Peshtigo." Some 

 folks up there would like it generally believed that there 

 are no trout in any of that region. They want 'em all 

 themselves. 



I should say that the officials of the M. & N. R. R. were 

 somewhat disturbed last summer by the assertion that 

 the conductors on their road were buying trout from 

 market fishers along thp line. They made an investiga- 

 tion, and say that while some of the conductors may buy 

 trout for their own use or for friends, they fepl confident 

 that not one of them has done so for gain." For the "train 

 butchers" they are not answerable and do not answer. 

 A number of men in that country told me they never 

 had any trouble in selling all the trout they could catch, 

 that the conductors and news agents would buy them, 

 etc., etc. The management of this one road has this 

 spring planted 2,000,000 brook trout and 1,500,000 rain- 

 bow trout in the streams along their line. In view of 

 this fact, and of the sportsmanlike character of the head 

 men, it is very highly improbable that they would allow 

 a trout-selling scheme for money to be carried on along 

 their road for any great length of time. I was told by 

 the local fishermen that they often sold on the train 

 baskets of 6, 8, or 121bs., or all they could catch, "big and 

 little." I trust that the result of the assertion and its in- 

 vestigation will be a cessation of such stories if they are 

 merely stories, and of the facts if they are facts, and it 

 is safe to say that no regular employe of the road will 

 give color to either the one or the other in the future at 

 least. That is too grand a country to be abused. 



Mr. Fred Taylor and a party of friends, among whom 

 I presume will be big Joe Arrowsmith, the C. & A. con- 

 ductor, will start for their old grounds on the head of the 

 Little Oconto about the 20th. They go to Ellis Junction 

 and take wagons, nearly forty miles across. It is a drive 

 over a very beautiful country for the most part, as I 

 myself can testify. These gentlemen will probably kill 

 2,000 to 3,000 trout, or at least they usually have done so 

 there. 



Mr. C. D. Gammon and his friends, Mr. Cribben and 

 others, expect to start about the 20th for it mascallonge 

 trip of a week or so probably to Vieux Desert. When 

 they came back last year they had about thirty of these 

 tremendous fish. 



Two Wisconsin Central men went out from Milwaukee 

 two weeks ago to some place up that road, near Waupaca, 

 I heard, and got forty trout in a day. I hear mysterious 

 Btories also of a swamp on the White River, Wisconsin, 

 where 125 beautiful trout were taken by one party this 

 spring, and of another lot of eighteen trout shipped to 

 Chicago from there, of which every fish was over 31bs. 

 Great Scott! 



It is very probable that the bass fishing reported by 

 Mr. Ed Howard as being good at Fox Lake is spawning- 

 bed fishing, and it is to be hoped that our anglers will 

 wait awhile before they go up after bass. Large quanti- 

 ties of bass are taken from the spawning grounds annu- 

 ally in the Fox Lake district, as these fish will often snap 

 at anything that comes near them at that season. The 

 feat of taking fifty or sixty bass by one boat in May is 

 not, therefore, anything tb be particularly proud of. 

 Better wait till June or July at any rate, and then try 

 for the bass in the pockets of Grass Lake, or along the 

 channel. Last year the bass were not done spawning 

 even in late July, and this year one need hardly expect 

 an earlier season, as the weather is unspeakably rainy, 

 cold and generally abominable. To-day it is like a bad 

 sample of November. 



A correspondent writes me from Kalkaskia, Mich. , that 

 a good many trout are being taken in the streams about 

 there, and that within 10 miles of that point there is good 

 bass fishing.' The east shore of Lake Michigan is in many 

 part, wild and unsettled, and offers good territory to the 

 angler. Mr. Britton, division superintendent of the B. & O. 

 here, tells me of a whole township over there which had 

 only one inhabitant. There was a nice lake there which 

 the State stocked about ten years ago with landlocked 

 salmon, and this man wa6 appointed a warden to see 

 that no one came there and fished for these new fish. 

 He watched it, and so far as known, nobody else ever 

 fished there. He just sat down by the lake and in course 

 of time caught out and sold about all the landlocked sal- 

 mon there were in there, he drawing a salary all the time. 

 A warden like that ought to succeed in life. 



I was out in Ohio' this week, and inquired about the 



