ATO. 28, 1890.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



Ill 



We were both so badly poisoned by the virus from the 

 insects that we were in high fever for a day or two, but 

 good nursing brought us out all right. 



My hands were in a terrible state, for in addition to 

 the soreness from the bites of the flies, they were badly 

 blistered by the hard bout I had had with the paddle. 



Yes, that was an experience with black flies never to 

 be forgotten. The region about the Magalloway is one of 

 the favorite haunts of this pestiferous insect, and I do 

 not remember ever seeing it in any other section in any- 

 thing like the abundance in which it exists there. In old 

 times we used to think that the Schoodic Lake country, 

 particularly about Grand Lake Stream, was bad on ac- 

 count of these diabolical insects — and I have seen them 

 so thick on the Miranxichi that the air was black with 

 them — but I have never anywhere seen anything like the 

 prodigal plenty in which they are found on the Magallo- 

 way. 



"Pass me the p'ison, please," exclaimed William; after 

 Frere and I had anointed ourselves, ''the flies are very 

 cross* to-day." 



I handed the tar to him, both of them had been well 

 punctured, the insects having crawled into their hair and 

 beards and left their scars freely. 



Anointing being over we settled down for comfort. 



" 'Tie a pretty pool, entirely," said Hiram, who was 

 carelessly tying various knots in a piece of string. 



"It is that," assented William. 



"I wish I had a dollar for every fish that was ever taken 

 from it." 



" You'd need a team to carry them if they were our 

 American stiver dollars," I added. 



"Yes, and a double team at that," said Frere, 



"Yes, 'tis a great pool, altogether," answered Hiram, 

 unconsciously repeating his first statement. 



"And one of the best to kill a fish in on the river."f 



"True," replied Frere, laughingly, "if you can keep him 

 away from the rocks." 



"Oh, there's no trouble at all," replied W 7 illiam, depre- 

 catingly, "you'll never have one run down there again. 

 This was the first time I ever saw one, and niany's the 

 fish I've seen killed here." 



"No, they never run there like that," said Hiram, "but 

 you want to mind the head of the pool too, there's an old 

 drift tree there," pointing to a spot just below the upper 

 rapids, "and if you get 'hung up there,' good-by Mr, 

 Salmon." 



"Is there really any drift stuff here?" I asked, "if so 

 now is the time to get it out. I don't want to lose any fish 

 on it." 



"All right," replied the guide. "Come, William, with 

 the gaff, and we'll clear it out." 



The two brothers proceeded to the beach , above the 

 rapids where the canoe was hauled up, and shoving it out 

 into the stream and embarking, they moved slowly down 

 to the place that had been designated. 



William held the canoe steadily in place while Hiram 

 began reaching with the gaff down into the water for the 

 drift wood. 



"By Jove," I exclaimed, "there's more water there than 

 I dreamed of; see! he has the whole length of the gaff 

 under water, and his arms up to the elbows." 



"Yes," replied Frere, "there is a sharp pitch there, and 

 quite a deep hole." 



In a short time Hiram shouted to William to "push in," 

 and the canoe, impelled by the setting pole, soon touched 

 the beach, Hiram dragging with the gaff what proved to 

 be a large limb of a tree with the branches and twigs on, 

 just as it had floated down the stream and sunk months 

 before. 



"That's a dangerous snag out of the way, at all events," 

 said Frere. l< What have you found, Hiram?" he ex- 

 claimed, as the guide, after hauling the limb up on the 

 beach, proceeded to detach something that was evidently 

 fastened to it. 



" 'Tis a bit of net that got torn on it," answered the 

 guide, "that snag has done one good job anyway." 



"Hallo, here is the rest , of your cast, sir," exclaimed 

 William, unwinding something that was also entangled 

 in the twigs. 



"What!" ejaculated Frere, "my casting line? Impos- 

 sible." 



"It is, sure enough, and the fly, too, all but the barb of 

 the hook, that's gone." 



It proved to be as they had stated; the salmon, after 

 parting the casting line, had purposely entangled it after- 

 ward in the drift stuff and, breaking the hook, had freed 

 itself of its unwelcome incumbrance. 



" 'Twas a crafty lad, altogether," said Hiram, handing 

 the line to Frere, "how well he knew the way to get rid 

 of it!" 



"Yes," said Frere, "I knew he would not carry it around 

 long." 



"It was a poor length of gut," I exclaimed, as I exam- 

 ined it. "See, here is at least six inches of it thin and 

 flat." 



"Yes," said Frere, "I see it was weak there, although it 

 would have made no difference if it had been perfect; it 

 is almost impossible to obtain good casting lines nowa- 

 days except at fabulous prices, and even then they are 

 likely to have weak places." 



"That is true," said I, as we resumed our seats among 

 the brakes, "there is sure to be a weak spot somewhere, 

 and I have for years tied my own, and I use nothing but 

 the best round gut of even and uniform thickness." 



"I believe I will try it myself," replied Frere, "there is 

 no great labor required in it, and it is worth something 

 to have a cast on that one may feel absolute confidence 

 in." 



"Yes," said Hiram, "the best cast is none too good. I 

 was once out with a man from Montreal. He had a big 

 lot of new casting lines and they looked all right, but 

 they went to pieces on every fish. He lost a big lot of 

 saumon that trip, something like a dozen or fifteen, I am 

 sure." 



"He did so," added William, "he had hard luck, not a 

 cast in the lot wuth tuppence." 



"Do you mind, Doctor, how we lost the saumon last 

 year in the White Rapids Pool on the Jacquet?" asked 

 Hiram, addressing me, "Sure he was the wild divil, too." 



"Yes, I shall not forget him for a while," I replied, 

 "such a dance as he led us." 



"How was it?" inquired Frere. 



"Oh, it was only one of the cases of 'lost fish* that every 

 *HunEry or savage. 



*These dialogues are literally as jotted down by me on various 

 occasions,- -E. A. S. 



one knows all about," I replied. "I was running down 

 the river with Hiram in the canoe, fishing the pools on 

 the way down. When we reached the White Rapids 

 Hiram landed me on the shore above the pool and I 

 walked down along the river, casting as I went. When 

 I reached the boil immediately below the rapids I got a 

 rise, and casting again was fast to a fine fish. He took 

 down into the pool and from the way he cavorted around 

 there one would think he had an electric battery in his 

 tall. Zip! he'd dart up and down the pool like an arrow, 

 and "cree-e-e' the old reel Bung out izi response to his 

 movements." 



"Yes, the lad was in the air more of the time than in 

 the water," exclaimed Hiram, "it was jump, jump, jutnp 

 all over the pool; sure he was a wild divil, altogether." 



"Yes," I replied, "he was a lively customer; I never 

 had a. fish quite so full of energy. At length he ran 

 down to the foot of the pool and criss-cro3sed over among 

 some big boulders there and got the line wound around 

 them. I yelled at the top of my lungs to Hiram to wade 

 out with the gaff and cast off the line or the fish would 

 part it." 



"Sure I thought he was gone," said the guide. "I saw 

 the line in the rocks and made sure it was broken," 



"No," I continued, "he was still on when Hiram went 

 out to him and cast off the line, and whir-r-r! how he 

 made the water fly as he darted to the head of the pool 

 again. Up and down did he continue to race, sometimes 

 in the water, as often in the air, and apparently as fresh 

 as at the start." 



"No doubt a fresh-run fish," remarked Frere. 



"Ah! yes, he was a bright one," said Hiram. 



"At length ho gave a big leap and then ran to the boil 

 again, where he settled to the bottom, and stir him I 

 could not. For at least fifteen minutes I tried every 

 means that I knew of for starting a sulking salmon, but 

 he would not budge, Finally I got impati ent and told 

 Hiram to take the canoe and stir him up with the setting 

 pole. 



" 'Are you sure he's still on?' Hiram called out. 



" 'On! of course he is,' I replied, 'see the lino vibrate as 

 the rascal shakes his head!' 



" 'Yes, he's trying to shake out the hook,' answered the 

 guide, and he immediately started for the canoe. 



"I had a steady strain on the fish all the time for all 

 the rod was worth, and I kept it up while Hiram was 

 bringing down the canoe. Now and again I felt a spite- 

 ful jerk, as if the fish were shaking the line back and 

 forth. Anon would come a strong steady tug as if he 

 were about to start out again on his wild racings, and 

 then the dead hard resistance would follow. 



"Hiram soon had the canoe in the pool, and going up 

 to the head poked down with the setting pole where the 

 salmon was lying, but the fish did not stir. Finally the 

 guide took hold of the line and began lifting it carefully 

 with one hand , underrunning it with the gaff. 



" 'Sure, the fish is gone!' at last he shouted. 



" 'No!' T exclaimed, 'impossible!' 



" 'He is gone, altogether,' replied Hiram, 'and you are 

 fast to a tree at the bottom of the pool.' 



"As he said this he put the gaff down into the Avater, 

 and hooking it into a branch of sunken drift wood like 

 that just taken out of this pool, he came ashore at my 

 side." 



"Ha, ha," exclaimed Frere, "that's a pretty good joke; 

 the idea of playing a piece of drift stuff so long is rich." 



"Yes, it was pretty rough on me, I admit," said I, "but 

 I'll be blessed if any one could have known it was not a 

 salmon. The scamp no doubt freed himself as soon as he 

 struck the drift stuff, and the line, fastened to the sway- 

 ing limb, vibrated and pulled according to the strength 

 of the water moving it back and forth. It felt all the 

 time like a large strong fish." 



"Tricky divils are salmon," sententiously observed 

 William. "I never feel sure of one until he is high and 

 dry on the shore." 



"Yes, the salmon is a good fighter," said Frere, "and 

 the uncertainty of bringing him to grass constitutes nine- 

 tenths of the fascination there is in fishing for him." 



"One cannot risk a single chance on him," I replied, 

 "and it is often a little thing that brings the fisherman to 

 grief even with the best of care." 



BOSTON SPORTSMEN. 



GRAND ARMY DAY in Boston last week was some- 

 thing of a holiday to the tired merchant who did 

 not happen to care for the parade. Business was almost 

 entirely suspended, and some of those who wish they 

 were boys again did their best to be so for one day at least. 

 Mr. Crane, of the leather house of Shedd & Crane, with 

 Dr. Pratt, a well-known lover of the rod and reel, early 

 on that day betook themselves to the Old Colony Rail- 

 road. They went down the line to Quinticus Lake, in 

 North Rochester, Plymouth Co. By the way, it might be 

 mentioned that this is the very same pond that ex-Presi- 

 dent Cleveland fished on his last trip to Marion, the little 

 Buzzard's Bay town, so much beloved by Mrs. Cleveland. 

 Our Boston boys had the same guide and boatman en- 

 gaged that took Mr. Cleveland out, Mr. Levi Roundsville, 

 and a very efficient and enthusiastic boatman he proved. 

 They took a large number of pickerel with rod and reel at 

 which the guide was very much delighted. They also 

 succeeded in getting several bass, Che playing of which 

 gave the boatmen a great deal of pleasure. "Ooh! see 

 him go it!" was a favorite expression when the fish took 

 out the reel in good style. On one occasion they were 

 all particularly delighted at the sport the fish gave them, 

 and they set him at a 31b. bass at the very least. But lo! 

 when he was brought to the net it proved to be a good- 

 sized hornpout. The guide was pleased. He knew where 

 the hornpout were plenty, and he proposed that they go 

 for them. So they left pickerel and bass fishing for a 

 season, and Mr. Crane says he had no idea how well the 

 ordinary hornpout will play the reel. Stubborn as a 

 mule, he refuses to allow his head to come above water 

 till he is thoroughly tired out, and then a few draughts 

 of fresh air do notseem to take the "gimp" all out of him, 

 as in the case of the trout. It rather works like a stimu- 

 lant—a little oxygen does— it makes the pout pull the 

 harder, and the second time his head is brought out of 

 the water it must be done with sheer force of the rod. 



Mr. W. H. Coggin, salesman and coffee expert, with 

 the well known house of Dwinell, Hayward&Co., has 

 just returned from his vacation at Hampden, Me., the 

 former home of his wife, who was with him. Heron 

 Pond, a few miles from Bangor, on the Maine Central, is 



the pond tha,t Mr. Coggin intends to fish every opportun- 

 ity. This time the party was made up of Mr. Coggin, 

 Henry L. Mayo, the Republican candidate for the State 

 Senate from his town; Dr. W. H. Nason, a flourishing 

 young physician from the same town; Chas. Wales, the 

 leading grocer of the village, with W. H. Doane, Mrs. 

 Coggin's brother. They went up to the pond the night 

 before the great day of their best success. They secured 

 plenty of live bait — "shiners" is the local name— from 

 the mouth of a stream that flows into the pond. Early 

 the next morning the sport begun. They took several 

 good-sized black bass, all of which they rejected when it 

 came to the question of cooking. A number of pickerel 

 also fell to their creel. But their best sport came from 

 taking white perch, considered the king of fish in that 

 pond, so far as real value is concerned. They had very 

 remarkable success in still-fishing for white perch with 

 live bait. They caught over forty fish of good size, perch 

 and pickerel, and nearly every family in the neighbor- 

 hood had fried fish for breakfast the following morning. 



It is pleasiug to learn that a candidate for the State 

 Senate in Maine— sure to be elected, for the town is in- 

 tensely Republican — is a sportsman and a progressive 

 young man. Next winter the question of fish and game 

 protection is again to come up in that State, and there is 

 little doubt at least one Senator can be looked to for such 

 wholesome change in the game laws as they require. 



D. C. Ford, of Bridgewater, reports rather a peculiar 

 discovery at Biddeford Pool, in Maine. An embank- 

 ment has washed away just above the railroad, and there 

 has come out of the bank an old dugout, or log canoe, 

 that really should be in the possession of some society of 

 history. The dugout is 38ft. long and very wide and 

 deep, though somewhat gone to decay. The boys have 

 run around on the rim or gunwale, and their feet have 

 worn into the decayed wood till down to where it is l^in. 

 in thickness. How long this relic of savage skill has lain 

 there no man can tell, nor to what tribe she belonged. 



Mr. Patrick Kelley, the patron in church building of 

 the late Father O'Brien, of Cambridge, Mass., is to start 

 for Richardson Lake is a few days. He will stop at the 

 Upper Dam . Mr. Kelley is a great lover of the rod and 

 reel. He visited the Upper Dam with Father O'Brien 

 for several seasons, and though one of the gentlemen 

 was a Catholic priest and the other a devoted friend and 

 follower, yet no two men ever went to that region who 

 enjoyed it better. Even the priest came off in trout fish- 

 ing. It was once a remark of Father O'Brien that when 

 he came to die he desired no other resting place than at 

 the lakes. But when he departed this life, a year or two 

 ago, his wishes, if they were really wishes in sober earn- 

 est, were not carried out. The loss of his friend rather 

 staggered Mr. Kelley in his love for the lake and the 

 swift waters of the Upper Dam, but he is to try it again 

 this fall. By the way, Mr. Kelley is very desirous that 

 we have a rod and reel association in Boston, and why 

 can not his wishes be carried out? 



The cool September is close at hand and with it the 

 late fly-fishing. The reports are favorable. I hear that 

 it was very cold at the Maine Lakes on Saturday, Sunday 

 and Monday nights, and that the trout have already 

 begun to rise, But there is no need of taking the jack- 

 light, for the open season on deer does not begin in that 

 State till Oct 1. A friend of mine was riding into Boston 

 the other morning just behind the car seat where sat two 

 other gentlemen, both Boston merchants. One was tell- 

 ing the other about the elegant jack-light he had just 

 had built. He was going to start for Seven Ponds, in 

 Maine, early enough to be on the spot on the first night 

 of September, in order to try his jack-light on the deer. 

 The open season began on that date he evidently 

 thought. My friend, also a sportsman, who goes to 

 Maine every year, politely told him that he did not like 

 to dispute a stranger, but that he felt that it was nothing 

 more than right to inform him that the open season on 

 moose, deer and caribou in Maine did not commence 

 till Oct. 1. The gentleman seemed surprised and re- 

 marked that my friend must be mistaken, for his guide 

 had written him that he could "jack as much as he 

 choose" after Sept. 1, and the gentleman felt very sure 

 that the law was so amended at the last session of the 

 Legislature of that State that Sept. 1 was the opening 

 day. He was informed that he was absolutely mistaken 

 and that attempt to change the open season on that class 

 of game to Sept. 1 was killed at the very last hours of 

 the session, two years ago this winter. Special. 



California Fishes. — Dr. Carl H. Eigenmann writes us 

 from San Francisco that with the exception of the floun- 

 der and sole fisheries San Diego is far ahead of San Fran- 

 cisco. The various species of rock cod (Sebastichthys) 

 are more abundant at San Diego and their average size is 

 much larger than further north. Dr. Eigenmann noticed 

 in San Diego that those species of fishes which rarely 

 come into the markets are usually much above the av- 

 erage in size, a condition probably explained by the fact 

 that these are stragglers from the north and probably only 

 fish of unusual size stray from their accustomed haunts. 

 If so, these rock cod will undoubtedly plant southern 

 colonies, since many of them were gravid. Up to July 

 5 very few barracuda had come into San Francisco mar- 

 kets, the Monterey catch being merely nominal. The 

 southern California catch seemed to be as large as usual. 

 The young or medium sized quinnat salmon were running 

 in the Sacramento in small numbers in June and early 

 July. In the exploration of lakes Tahoe and Donner, re- 

 cently undertaken by Dr. Eigenmann, two new species 

 of minnows were found and one new form of miller's 

 thumb (Uranidea beldingi). The last is abundant in 

 Lake Donner and destroys immense numbers of young 

 trout, especially those domesticated in the hatchery. One 

 of the trout in the region may prove to be a distinct spe- 

 cies, as the eggs and newly hatched young are very differ- 

 ent from those of the common species (Lenshaim). The 

 fish of Lake Donner were found to be essentially the same 

 as in Lake Tahoe. 



Maine Salmon.— Caribou, Aug. 21.— There have been 

 several salmon taken with the fly here this summer, one 

 weighing 171bs. The persons using spears have been 

 most successful, however, and have secured nearly all 

 there are. Fish Commissioners Stilwell and Stanley are 

 here for the purpose of having a fishway placed over the 

 Aroostook River dam, as the Aroostook River salmon 

 would take a fly as readily as the Penobscot salmon with 

 a fishway. Caribou would certainly have a superior 

 salmon pool which would attract many people to this 

 section. . 



