July 9* 1891.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



49B 



young Utah is confident of soon being able to take a hand 

 in the great game of national politics. 



A word as to the '"lay of the land." Asay Creek has 

 two forks, eacli about one and a half miles from oamp. 

 Between the two is a divide that rises almost a, 000 ft. 

 above the sea level. The bushes along the creeks are in 

 full bloom, and along the hillsides the cacti are display- 

 ing their gold and crimson flowers. On the clay ridges 

 are numberless deer tracks and bear sign, and the white 

 hare dwells among the rocks. But the herder's greatest 

 enemy is the wildcat, that annually destroys thousands 

 of lambs. The north fork of Asay Creek is a narrow 

 stream, that may be jumped at almost any point. It 

 flows through a nai-row, heavily -timbered canon. The 

 water is clear and cold and is positively alive with small 

 trout running from 8m. to 1ft. in length. The south 

 fork is wider. It fl-ows through broader cailons and fer- 

 tile meadows. In it are large trout, suckers and herring 

 or dace. Never before have I seen suckers and trout 

 associating together. But these suckers are more gamj% 

 firmer fleshed and better flavored than their congeners 

 that mhabit the sluggish, muddy waters of the East, 



We stayed at the hilltop wagon for a week. Some 

 days I would fish and at other times I would ramble to 

 one of Ike's other camps and watch the docking of the 

 lambs. Then we moA^ed down to the north fork, and all 

 hands turned in to build a great shearing corral. All 

 hands but Jock, one of the herders, he would let his 

 wethers wander away while he would cut a birch pole 

 and stroll up and down the creek, returning at dusk with 

 from thirty to fifty specimens of the delicious rosy-sided, 

 speckled fonUnoMs. 



The corral was completed and the boys were off with 

 their sheep, all but Jock, who, as usual, was away with 

 his birch pole. The sun was about two hours high. Ike 

 and I sat alone in the tent. Jock's wethers had been 

 peacefully grazing just above the corral, but now they 

 had disappeared, even the tinkling of the bell had died 

 away. Suddenly Ike ppoke up; 



"I guess either you or I will have, to hunt up those 

 wethers. No tellin' when Jock will show up." 



Now, I was just in condition for a good walk, and I 

 thought that in less than half an hour I would be back at 

 camp; so I started out with neither coat nor vest. Up 

 the creek I strolled, up among the quaking aspens. Our 

 side of the caiion was of white sandstone, hewn and 

 water-worn into all sorts of fantastic shapes. The other 

 wall was of black, volcanic rock — the picture of desola- 

 lation. From these black stones Asay Creek sprang forth 

 a lusty stream that mared and sang with voice louder 

 than the song of woodland bird or cry of winds among 

 the branches. And at the black rocks by the spring I 

 lost all track of abeep. But I kept on and on to the head 

 of the canon, and I knew that the wethers had not gone 

 out that way. It would have been the part of common 

 sense to have gone right back to camp and to have let the 

 herder hunt his own sheep, but I hated to give up the 

 search. I climbed the sandstone parapet and wandered 

 along that ridge for a mile, not finding a hoof print. 

 Then I came back to the head of the canon and walked 

 down the trap ridge. Just as the sun went down I struck 

 the tracks of the herd, and the dogs startd merrily along 

 the trail to the southwest, leading me directly away from 

 the camp. 



Through the gloaming I hurried, and suddenly I came 

 upon one of nature's wonders. The crust of the earth 

 had fallen in, leaving a circular hole some 10yds. in 

 diameter, and from the bottom of this hole four caves 

 led in different directions. It was no time for explora- 

 tion and I pressed on, following the barking of Nell and 

 old Kaiser, Had I wanted to do so I could not have found 

 my way back to camp, and no amount of money would 

 have tempted me to clamber down the rocky wall after 

 dark. About me the nighthawk whistled, and from far 

 away the piping of the young quail floated on the evening 

 air. I was tired out; my shoes were cut through, and 

 now and then a cactus spine would find its way into the 

 ball of my foot and 1 would hop along in silent agony. I 

 felt in my pocket. Not a match was there, and I re- 

 membpred that my hunting knite was left by my plate 

 at dinner. 



Hark! Yes, that is the faint tinkle from the bell 

 wether. The journey is almost done. Ten minutes more 

 and the odor of the sheep greeted me, and the band at 

 another one of Ike's camps, to which I had never been 

 before, and Bert, the herder, with his dog was standing 

 between the wethers and the ewes swearing like a pirate. 

 To make a long story short, we drove the wethers back 

 for nearly a mile, bedded them and I returned to Bert's 

 wagon for supper, and in a few moments was dozing on 

 the hard bed. 



1 had not lain long when there was a thud against the 

 wagon and the four dogs ran between the wheels, then 

 out a few feet, growling all the time. Bert sprang out 

 with the rifle and I was not long in following suit. He 

 said that he saw a dark object a little way off but he did 

 not get away from the friendly gleam of the candle. The 

 ewes and lambs now became \^'XJ uneasy and I took 

 Bert's rifle from him and started out. The moon was 

 five days old and by the feeble light I could see a black 

 she bear and two cubs. It was impossible to get good 

 aim but I blazed away in the darkness and hit the brute, 

 for she growled and turned savagely toward me, but two 

 more shots put an end to her career and the cubs made 

 good their escape. Then it was necessary to go around 

 the sheep and get them quietly settled on their bed 

 gi-ound. By the time this was done we heard rifle shots 

 and shouts m the distance. We answered and in a few 

 moments Ike and Jock were with us, Ike's anxiety for 

 my safety having brought him over the hill. We took a 

 good smoke, laughed over our adventures and at mid- 

 night turned in for good, and so ended my first and last 

 experience as a sheep herder. 



Ike and I were up with the sun, but early as we were 

 Jock was ahead of us, getting his wethers back to then- 

 own herd. We reached campat breakfast time and "dad," 

 for I, being the senior member of the outfit, have 

 acquired this soubriquet, wa- made somewhat vain by the 

 encomiums that were bestowed npon his tracking, stay- 

 ing and shooting qualities. At all events no one has since 

 intimated that he was a tenderfoot. 



That afternoon a party of three visited the wonderful 

 cave. Jerome Asay, an old settler who knew every nook 

 and turn of the subterranean labyrinth, was our guide. 

 On the way up we managed to kill a porcupine with 

 clubs. Had it peeij among th© pinea it would have es« 

 oaped easily, biifc among the yQokB"we h»d the advantage. 



It was the first porcupine that I ever knew to show fight, 

 and it never once thought of rolling into a ball to escape 

 its pursuers. 



At the mouth of the cave we built a fire and lighted our 

 fat pine torches, while the bishop picked his way down 

 into the most beautiful of the undergroimd avenues. This 

 cavern was about 600ft. deep. At first it seemed like 

 walking through a railway tunnel cut in trap rock. The 

 floor was strewn with jagged boulders. Had this been 

 all there was of interest, our journey would soon have 

 been ended and my tale told, tint the tunnel opened into 

 one lofty chamber after another. Throughout the black 

 rock an iron stain was apparent. The floors were 

 covered with beautifully rounded yellowish stalagmites, 

 and peadant from the roof were stalactites, black as ink, 

 that when broken seemed in color and porosity exactly 

 like worthless iron castings. Then the air grew colder; 

 the walls narrowed; we were entering the portals of 

 Dante's 1^'rozen Hell. Suddenly it burst upon us, and from 

 the walls the light of our torches shot forth the dazzling 

 splendor of countless diamonds, rubies and sapphires, and 

 the reflection of our feet was as though we were walking 

 upon a sea of glass. This was the ice cave, 40ft. in 

 dianaeter and 15ft, high. There was neither sight 

 nor sound of dripping water, but we were upon a lake of 

 ice, and the black, rocky wall and ceiling could not be 

 seen for their hoary covering. There were no icicles, but 

 a uniform mass of crystal sheen, in form varied as the 

 crystals of snow and of the thickness of a man's hand. 

 It was the cave of Aladdin, and long we feastpd on the 

 lovely scene. I am told that the temperatm-e of this cave 

 is uniform during the entire year. 



Back to daylight and then into another cave, the warm- 

 est of the four. Here the floor, walls and roof are a mass of 

 vivid moss, and the transition seemed like coming from the 

 sanctuary of winter to the abiding place of eternal spring. 

 The bishop now told us that he would take tis back to 

 camp by a new route, but we must be prepared to crawl. 

 Into another tunnel he went and we followed. At first 

 we could get along on our hands and knees, but, all too 

 soon, the roof come down and we were obliged to flatten 

 out and "snake it" as best we could. The floor was of 

 smooth, white sand, evidently it had once been the bed of 

 a subterranean stream, probably of Asay Creek that was 

 now many feet below us. The smoke from our torches 

 would have stifled us had it not been for the frequent 

 rifts in the rocks, that were of sufficient size to admit 

 light and fresh air, though altogether too narrow to allow 

 of om- passage to the outside world. After an hour of 

 this laborious pleasure we came to an aperture through 

 which we could make our exit, and though the bishop 

 told us that he could take us underground for yet another 

 mile we declined his offer with many thanks, and were 

 soon back at the tent discussing the events of the day 

 over a mess of trout. 



Were such a cave as this in any other part of the land 

 it would be visited by tens of thousands of tourists, but 

 I doubt if fifty persons have ever been down, in its depths 

 or if 100 have heard of it. I am told that other and 

 larger caves are to be found in this vicinity, and I hope 

 to see some of them before I leave ; if they surpass in beauty 

 this matchless cave of the southern Rockies, I shall think 

 that I have discovered a heretofore unknown wonder of 

 the world. • Shosho.nb. 



Asay Creek, Utah, .Tune 15. 



TROUTING IN THE SWEETWATER. 



ON the 15th of August last I received a message from 

 the Sweetwater Lake region, in Colorada, that a 

 relative of mine, who had been camping there during the 

 summer for the benefit of his health, had became worse 

 and needed immediate attention if he were expected to 

 leave that country alive. Receiving this message on Sat- 

 urday, a hurried packing of satchel and arranging of busi- 

 ness affairs let me off on the 2:50 train of the next day, 

 Sunday. The road taken to D^'nver was the U. P. R. II., 

 than which there is none better west of the Missouri 

 River. Monday morning, 9:30 o'clock, found me in Den- 

 ver just in time to catch the train going to LeadviUe on 

 the South Park R. R. The trip over this road to Lead- 

 vdle is worth a year of one's lifetime, but it is impossible 

 to describe the beauties and wonder and grandeur of the 

 scenery along this route without writing volumes. We 

 an-ived in LeadviUe at about 8 o'clock in the evening. 

 The next morning found us steaming out of LeadviUe, 

 bound for the little station I had been told to stop at, on 

 the Denver & Rio Grand R. R. 



This day's trip was another delightful one, except for 

 the fact that we had to stop and wait two or three hours 

 at Red Cliff for the workmen to clear from the track the 

 debris from a heavy blast. 



After a time we were started again, and soon, while I 

 was intently watching the fishermen landing trout from 

 Eagle River, which the road foUows, the brakeman 

 announced the fact that we had reached Dotsero, my 

 destination. I barely had time to tumlile off the train 

 before it was under way again. On looking about me 

 for the city and depot building, I found nothing but 

 good solid ground and a cabin a few rods distant. This 

 station should be named Dot, dropping the last two syl- 

 lables, as they are entirely sujieriiuous, and the first one 

 describes the'city briefly and perfectly. Well, knowing 

 that there were fourteen miles of mountain road to be 

 traversed before reaching the camp of my friends, I 

 hastened to interview the inmates of the cabin to ascer- 

 tain whether they could furnish me transportation, and 

 whether there was still time to reach the camp before 

 night. 



To my intense delight I received an affirmative 

 answer to both of my questions. The only drawback in 

 the whole business was that a pony and saddle consti- 

 tuted the conveyance that I would have to take and I 

 now weigh SlOlbs. and have not been guilty of doing 

 much horseback riding since boyhood. How'ever, I as- 

 sured the proprietor of the cabin and ponies that nothing 

 would suit better and that something of this kind had 

 long been an unfulfiUnd desire to me. The gentleman 

 concluded to send his brothpr-in-law, a sixteen-year-old 

 lad, with me to act as guide and to bring the ponies 

 back. Well, we started as soon as tlie ponies could be 

 saddled, and the first part of the journey was very nice 

 and easy for me, as it was all up hiU, and the ponies 

 necessarUy had to walk. After about an hour or so of 

 this climbing, and when I had about concluded that 

 horseback riding was ae easy now as wheu I was younger 

 we oanje to the top of the "divide," where my guide, 



who in the meantime had discovered that my birthplace 

 was "Down East" and had sized me up for a tenderfoot 

 of the first water, suggested that we had better increase 

 our gait if we wanted to reach Sweetwater before dark. 



He set the pace and I followed. Things went pretty 

 well for a few miles, and then we commenced going 

 down, and then the trouble began for me. Riding up hiU 

 and on a level had been comparatively easy work, ljut 

 this was new business for me and I soon began to feel the 

 effects of it, but having a little stubbornness in my make- 

 up, like all good hunters, I determined to follow the little 

 red-headed cuss into camp at his own gait, if my back 

 didn't break before we got there. On we went, the worse 

 the trail the faster the little imp rode, until at latit we 

 struck the valley of Sweetwater River and commenced to 

 climb upward again, along the edge of the vaUey toward 

 the lake. As we slackened our pace my guide informed 

 me that we were only a half-mile from camp and that we 

 had made remarkably fast time, in fact he thought it a 

 little the quickest time he had ever made over that trail. 

 We arrived at the camp in just four hours from the time 

 of starting, and that, too, over one of the roughest of 

 mountain trails. Well, I was not so very tired, but I 

 could stand up much better than I could sit down. There 

 was some surprise in camp at my arrival, for a telegram 

 had been sent to tell me the invalid was better. The 

 telegram I never received. The welcome was just as 

 hearty as though everything had turned out as planned, 

 and after a hearty supper of cold venison, fried trout and 

 everything else that is fit for a hunter's table, we gathered 

 round the lantern, in the tent, and swapped news for fish 

 stories. I had the news and the other four the trout 

 yarns. They had been camped here all summer long, and 

 had nothing to do but fish and hunt and think up stories 

 to bm-y me under when I should arrive. WeU, they did 

 it most effectually, but I am not going to write anything 

 but the truth, and only a little of that, so will not repeat 

 any of their stories but give my readers a brief sketch of 

 one day's trout fishing out of six, all equally good, which 

 we had before breaking camp and starting 'on our return 

 trip. After a great deal of talking and a little of sleeping 

 it was decided that L., the veteran fisherman, should take 

 me the next morning up the left fork of the Sweetwater 

 River, or creek, for a day with the speckled beauties. 



The next morning, not very early, found us with 

 tackle, lunch, etc., starting from the camp, at the lower 

 end of Sweetwater Lake, bound for the trout stream 

 which we intended to strike where the two bramches 

 came together, a half mile above the upper end of the 

 lake. As the lake is about a mile in length this gave us 

 a tramp of a mile and a half before reaching the battle 

 ground. Just before reaching there an incident occurred 

 which seriously disturbed the peace of mind of my friend 

 L. As we were walking along the trad, thioking of the 

 fish we were going to ca tch, there suddenly came a whirr 

 that made us jump as some dozen or more willow grouse 

 got up from nearly under our feet and settled in different 

 parts of two trees that were standing a few vards from 

 the trail. Oh, how we did groan, because we had not 

 brought the little .22 along with us, as here was the 

 chance to add some of the finest of meat to our larder, if 

 we only had something to shoot with. L. was not going 

 to give it up without an attempt, at least, so collecting a 

 few stones of proper size he commenced a bombardment 

 of the grouse family. Some of his shots were very close, 

 but he failed to bring any game to bag and sorrowfully 

 gave it up when his ammunition was gone. We left the 

 covey holding the fort without any loss of their number 

 and tramped along a few rods further to the stream. 

 And here our sport commenced. 



The left branch of the Sweetwater River is the stream 

 of trout streams as it comes roaring and tumbhng down 

 a deej) gorge, hemmed in on both sides by rocky cliffs 

 towering hundreds and hundreds of feet above the bed 

 of the stream, and shutting it in so closely that at many 

 points the only path for man or animal is the river itself. 

 For about three miles this stream is one succession of 

 cataracts, each one having its pool below. Fallen timber 

 at close intervals makes the tramping up this stream 

 very hard, but does not often interfere with the casting ' 

 of the fiy. At the point where we stiuck the stream we 

 changed our shoes for wading boots and commenced the 

 work of the day. I took a turn down stream for a few 

 yards to commence with, and just where some willows 

 shaded the water over a deep riffle I got a rise and caught 

 a pound beauty belonging to the rainbow trout specfes. 

 A second cast and his twin brother grabbed the fly, 

 There was not an ounce difference in the weight of these 

 two. Turning up stream at the next pool I caught two 

 half-pounders. So far L. had caught nothing and every- 

 thing was coming my way, but well I knew this would 

 not last, as I had been fishing with the veteran before. 

 After crawling over some fallen trees we came to a larger 

 pool where we caught four nice ones, and one only fell 

 to my lot and that not a very large one, while the one of 

 immense size that should have been landed shook the 

 hook from his mouth and went sulking under the ledge 

 of rock at the further side of the pool. 



Passing on above this pool we came to a huge tree, 

 which had fallen diagonally across the river bed, dam- 

 ming the stream and making a deep pool above. Over 

 this pool leaned another tree, making it impossible to 

 cast a fly in any shape on this water. As we stood below 

 the log, the water above was about even with our shoul- 

 ders, so we could see into the pool pretty well without 

 casting any shadow on it or being seen ourselves. Reel- 

 ing in all of my line, except three or four feet, I pushed 

 my rod just below the branches of the leaning tree, let- 

 ting the fiy strike the surface of the water and started to 

 drag it across the pool. But the fly had only started to 

 cross the pool when it Avas seized by a monster trout who 

 started with it for the corner made by the bank and tree 

 coming in contact. The poor chance for playing him and 

 my awkwardness combined, allowed him to get away. 

 Making the same cast again, the fi^h was hooked the 

 second time, and again he got away. A third cast, or 

 poke, was made, and he came at the fly this time with 

 more vigor than ever. But this time we were more suc- 

 cessfxil, for with the help of L. the brave beauty was this 

 time safely landed. Another case resulted in the catch- 

 ing of a second fish equally large. No more rises could 

 be got from that pool, so we passed on to the next. At 

 this pool L, caught the big ones and I the little ones, he 

 catching three that would weigh l^lbs. apiece, while 

 mine weighed only half of that, and besides, I caught 

 only one fish 



that ia tbe way it wegit, foooa pool to pool, uutil 



