F6REST AND STREAM. 



[Jan. 2i, 1903, 



1 792-1 S92-1950. 



THE WHEATLANDS, Md., Jan. 10.— Editor Forest 

 and Stream: While reading your editorial entitled 

 "Our Boyhood Number" I was struck with your query 

 about the opinion of the reader of the Forest and Stream 

 for 1950 as to the breechloader of 1892, and deeming it 

 apropos of the subject, I looked up an article on the 

 "Introduction and Improvement of Firearms," in the 

 Sporting Magazine for 1792, edited in London, a copy of 

 which I have. The article commences: " A very elegant 

 modern writer, who has treated upon shooting, has ob- 

 served that it would be a subject of much curious re- 

 search, and not without its use, to trace the progress of 

 invention in the arms of the class employed throughout 

 Europe, and to mark their gradual improvement, from 

 the spear to the cross bow, from the clumsy match lock 

 to the present elegant fowling piece." 



Then after dilating on the advantage of the cross-bow 

 as being noiseless, goes on to say: "Still the cross-bow 

 was continued long after the introduction of the arque- 

 bus, and not entirely dropped till toward the end of the 

 sixteenth century, when the arquebus was first brought 

 to the perfection of enabling the sportsman to shoot fly- 

 ing. But such was the length of time taken to improve 

 the instrument, both in its form and use, owing to its 

 advocates and enemies, that it was not without the con- 

 summation of argument in Nicolas Spadoni, a grave 

 Spaniard, the match lock was finally proscribed, and the 

 decided superiority awarded to the spring lock and flint. 

 They must have been the most awkward kind of locks 

 imaginable if some people could reasonably plead for the 

 quickness of discharge of the match lock in preference to 

 them. But such has been the improvement of the spring 

 lock that we now see them made use of in the artillery. 

 And in respect to the formation of the lock, and of small 

 arm3 generally, the genius of English gun-makers has 

 brought them to such a degree of perfection that in 

 theory only can further improvement be hoped for." 



Another article in the same number on loading directs 

 that the gun be tried with a "pipe and a half of powder 

 to a pipe of shot." 



Will our guns have advanced as much in 1950 as they 

 have from 1792 to 1892? Toe claim for shooting flying 

 too is an early one, and you will note that there were 

 "friends" and "enemies" of the arquebus, just as there 

 were of the breechloader in its first appearance. 



Sink- boat. 



ABOUT BIG BAGS OF GAME. 



PORTLAND, Oregon.— Editor Forest and Stream: In 

 your issue of Dec. 31 a gentleman signed "Frank 

 Lawrence Donohue" speaks of three shoots enjoyed by the 

 writer and a friend as if they had done wrong. Perhaps 

 we have, but if Mr. Donohue will come to Portland, 

 Oregon, and come prepared for shooting, I will ask him 

 to go to our preserve for a day's sport: and, as the saying 

 goes, "it is dollars to doughnuts" that he will shoot as 

 long as the daylight lasts. Why? First, we do not own 

 our lakes, but pay an exorbitant price for the privilege 

 of shooting each year on these lakes; second, nine-tenths 

 of the owners are market-hunters and kill birds every day 

 in the week, and get all they can, too. Now, what shail 

 we do? Go out and get say one dozen and then go home? 

 Do the people who are kicking at large strings of birds 

 recognize the fact that the hunters of Portland are 

 obliged to go from six to thirty miles on a steamboat to 

 get to their respective sporting grounds, and if they are 

 obliged to stop shooting on any given number of birds the 

 interest in duck shooting will soon become a thing of the 

 past. Evidently Mr. Donohue doesnot fully comprehend 

 the situation. If the birds will come in the early fall and 

 stay till the season is over, and every sportsman goes out 

 every day and kills 50 birds per man, they will surely 

 reduce the supply. But take the situation as it really is. 

 I have been an ardent hunter for five years, and have 

 never baged more than 20 birds in any one day before this 

 season. There are about 300 sportsmen in and about 

 Portland, and I think I am safe in saying that not one in 

 50 of these have bagged 50 birds in any one day this 

 season, and that not one in 20 have baged half that 

 number. We do not shoot every day, as Mr. Donohue 

 would lead people to think, but go once a week, and on 

 very rare occasions twice, as in the instance he mentions. 

 I think if he will look into the matter closely, he will find 

 other and more material causes for the alleged areat re- 

 duction in the game supply. However, my invitation to 

 him stands good for the rest of this season, ending April 1. 



Sand Him.. 



AN IDAHO FISH AND GAME COUNTRY. 



IN CAMP, Pend d'Oreille Lake, Kootenai County,Idaho, 

 Dec. §i, 1891. — To Priest Lake (Kootenai county, 

 Idaho) by canoe from Sand Point (station N. P. R. R.) 

 down Pend d'Oreille River, twenty-three miles thence 

 up Priest River, through very swift watpr, too swift to 

 row or paddle, to Kanisku Lake, sixty-five miles, thence 

 thirty miles up to Priest Lake. 



I found unsurpassed trout fishing on the way and in 

 both lakes; mule deer numerous, with a sprinkling of 

 white tails in the bottoms; black bear and panther both 

 in such number as to afford good sport with hounds that 

 will run them; pheasants very plentiful in the bottoms 

 and quite a few grouse on the table lands. Several cari- 

 bou were seen and signs around the alder bushes were 

 fresh and plentiful. No boats can be rented, no ranches 

 for a distance of about 105 miles, no settlement, but two 

 mining claims under development. 



Kanisku Lake can be reached over a rough pack trail 

 from Sand Point, Idaho, distance about f orty miles. Ad- 

 dress of packer, H. Tweedy, Rathdrum, Kootenai county, 

 Idaho (party recommended but not known to writer). 

 Cost of packing from railway station to lake seventy-five 

 cents per head per each pack and saddle animal per day, 

 carrying capacity from 200 to 250 pounds per animal, 

 time about fifteen miles per day, time to reach station 

 and to return there included in cost. Packer's wages $3 

 per day found. Provisions can be purchased cheap at 

 Sand Point, Idaho (nearest station N. P. R. R.). Parties 

 intending an outing into the above locality either during 

 a f uture fishing or large game hunting season, and de- 

 siring further information, may address through Forest 

 and Stream, Mux, 



["Pheasants" we presume, are ruffed grouse, and 

 "grouse," dusky grouse.] 



A Three Years' Close Season.— Rochester, Jan. 18. 

 — A meeting of the directors of the Monroe Sportsman's 

 Association was held this P. M. The features of the 

 meeting were a discussion of the game bill now before 

 the Supervisors, which provides for a close season for 

 three years on all game birds, and after that period for 

 an open season of only fifteen days — from Dec. 15 to Jan. 

 1 of each year, and providing a fine of $25 for each vio- 

 lation. The directors voted to approve the close season 

 for three years excepting on woodcock, but voted to 

 oppose the short open season, for the reason that all game 

 shooting is practically over at that time in this county 

 except rabbits. It was also voted to urge the passage of 

 a law shortening the rabbit season one month, making 

 the open season end Jan. 1. Splendid reports were made 

 of quail put out last spring, and it was decided to repeat 

 the act next spring, as it is no longer an experiment but 

 a decided success. The annual meeting will be held in 

 the Chamber of Commerce Wednesday, Feb. 3, at 3 P. M., 

 at which time reports will be made and interesting papers 

 read on subjects of interest; an attempt will also be made 

 to raise a generous fund for the propagation and protec- 

 tion of game and fish. A general and earnest invitation 

 is extented to all sportsmen and interested persons, 

 especially the farmers and land owners, to be present and 

 hear the results of the past year and the propositions for 

 the future.— O. S. B. 



A Trip for Caribou. — Mr. Wm, W. Hart, of this city, 

 recently returned from a successful hunting trip to Maine. 

 His excursion was in part a business journey for the pur- 

 pose of buying fur, but he succeeded in mingling pleas- 

 ure with his business, and brought back with him some 

 fine caribou heads and hides, which he now- has at his 

 store on Jacob street. Mr. Hart reports that the bull 

 caribou killed in December were in good order, having 

 already begun to lay on fat after the rutting season. 



"That reminds me." 



BLONDIE is an active member of our gun club, the 

 owner of a good gun and a "valuable" red Irish set- 

 ter. Blondie paid $ 10 for the pup and since has paid 

 about $38 for chickens surreptitiously killed, and that is 

 why he says he's a valuable dog. A short time ago 

 Blondie, with Pedro (who ever before heard of a red 

 Irishman with a Spanish name?), went grouse hunting. 

 Soon after entering the woods Pedro made one of his 

 half-creeping, barnyard- game points and up went a bird; 

 Blondie tired and as the smoke lifted he saw the bird 

 still on the wing. He quickly gave it the second barrel 

 and saw it drop. When he went to pick it up he found 

 two dead birds; he had made a good double without 

 knowing it. Blondie is no great shucks at dog training, 

 but he is death to birds. H. 

 Pennsylvania. 



The District of Columbia Chapter of the Sons of the 

 American Revolution celebrated the anniversary of the 

 battle of Cowpens last Saturday by means of a banquet 

 in Washington. It was to be expected that among the 

 distinguished guests would be some famous fishermen, 

 and that their side talks would occasionally take on the 

 nature of swapping fish yarns. President A. W. Greely 

 gave expression to his mixed feelings, produced by sitting 

 between the Governor of North Carolina and the Gov- 

 ernor of South Carolina, with the usual questions pass- 

 ing; but the ex-Governor of North Carolina, now Senator 

 Z. B. Vance, found time to trade stories with Hon. John 

 Goode, of Virginia, and one of his gems related to a 

 wonderful patent fish-eating machine. The invention, 

 according to Senator Vance, was a very simple affair and 

 yet remarkably effective — almost as successful as fish 

 bones. It consisted merely of a crank and hopper. The 

 fish- eater had only to open his mouth in front of the 

 hopper and turn the crank, whereupon the flesh would 

 drop into his mouth while the bones flew off to the left 

 into the yard. Everything acted like a charm, and the 

 inventor had reason to dream golden dreams until one 

 unfortunate day a left-handed man tried the machine, to 

 see how it worked. It worked as a matter of course, but 

 not in the usual way, for the bones flew straight into the 

 man's belly and the fish caromed on the back yard fence, 

 where the patent machine quickly followed. Arel. 



m m\& $wqr fishing. 



Angling Talks. By George Dawson. Price 50 cents. Fly- 

 Rods and Fly-Tackle. By H. P. Wells. Price $2.50. Fly- 

 Fishing and Fly-Making for Trout. By J. H. Keene. 

 Price $1.50. American Angler's Book. By Thad. Norris. 

 Price $5.50. 



The full texts of the game fish laws of all the States, 

 Territories and British Provinces are given in the Book oi 

 the Game Laws. 



TROUTING IN THE CASCADES.— VI. 



THE MOLALLA COUNTRY. 

 " Full in her dreamy light, the moon presides, 

 Shrined in a halo, mellowing as she rides ; 

 And far around, the forest and the stream 

 Bathe in the beautv of her emerald beam : 

 The lulled winds, too, are sleeping in their caves." 



\ NTICIPATION made me restless. The very still- 

 J\. neas of the night was a strain upon my nerves; and 

 sleep was out of the question. I closed my eyes and at 

 once commenced to reason about the relation of the brain 

 to the nerve of sight and the influence of the nervous 

 fluid over the body and its members. I opened my eyes 

 and at once fell to forming fantastic pictures out of the 

 shadows that fell upon my tent. The leaves and twigs, 

 painted by the moon upon the canvas overhead, formed 

 the grouad work for perfectly kaleidoscopic exhibition 

 of beautiful and symetrical figures to my imaginative 

 brain. Then I commenced to tally for Billy while he 

 snored in the other tent. It does beat all what an ass 

 insomnia can make of a man, 



Gradually my thoughts wandered off into the moun- 

 tains. I listened to the midnight melodies of nature in 

 her own wild solitudes where the iconoclastic hand of 

 man had never been felt. I saw the sheeted ghosts of 

 creatures that had wandered there in bygone ages. I 

 heard the brave's war cry and the dusky mother's lullaby 

 of tribes now gone forever. I listened to the lamenta- 

 tions of the last of the Molallas and lamented with him. 

 Gradually my eye-lids fell in sleep, but my brain con- 

 tinued to evolve strange sights and sounds. Billy's snor- 

 ing became the grinding roar of an avalanche, which I 

 could not evade ; and the war cries and lamentations be- 

 came the screams of cougars and the death gurgles of 

 their prey. 



I stood, by the sparkling waters of Canyon Creek ; 

 my flies were dancing in the swirl and a beautiful 

 trout seized the royal and began to play. Then another 

 trout came, and another and still others until a hundred 

 trout were clinging to my line, and when I tried to land 

 they dragged me into a deep, dark pool where an alliga- 

 tor seized me and began to crunch my leg and roar hor- 

 ribly. I awoke with a start to find that the alligator was 

 only a Molalla flea making a square meal off my right 

 leg, while the roaring was only Billy's alarm clock on a 

 strike. One good point about Billy is that he is as prompt 

 and preci-e as an old maid, and as punctual as a set of 

 cog-wheels in matters of little importance. Nobody but 

 Billy would ever think to take an alarm clock into the 

 mountains. 



Leaving my wife to enjoy her bed of browse, I went 

 over to Billy's tent and ate a hearty breakfast. The fried 

 " mountain beef " was a sweet luxury, and I slipped a 

 couple of slices into my ditty-bag for lunch. Taking my 

 eight feet four inches lance-wood, I started out on the 

 deer trail, with no definite idea of where it would take 

 me, depending on luck and a little judgment to reach the 

 appointed rendezvous. 



The solitude of such a place is inspiring. It sets one to 

 thinking of nature. One's own thoughts are entertaining 

 enough. Blossoms and bright leaves bespangled with 

 dew ; birds warbling their morning devotions ; rabbits 

 limping home from their nocturnal escapades ; wild 

 pigeons preening themselves in the tops of the tall trees ; 

 belated owls winking at you from shadowy coverts : these 

 and a myriad other pleasing and entertaining things 

 teach us that these solitudes are not for man's pleasure 

 and diversion alone, but that other and purer life does 

 and will enjoy them now and throughout time. Pres- 

 ently Mike, who was trotting ahead, flushed a big covey 

 of young grouse, which took to the nearest limbs and 

 stared at me as 1 walked past. No less than three such 

 coveys were started by the dog before I came to the little 

 clearing mentioned by Frank as being the spot where he 

 would likely meet me. 



There on a log he sat patiently waiting for me. " I 

 thought I would have to wait for you, Frank," said I, as 

 I came up to him. "Oh, no," he replied, "I couldn't 

 sleep much last night thinking of how surprised the 

 Canyon creekers would be with these fancy bugs ; we'll 

 have great sport with them to-day." 



" So it was flies kept you awake, was it, Frank; maybe 

 the butterfly down at Hall's had something to do with it, 

 my boy," said I, laughingly. 



Frank's ears reddened a little ; his face was too sun- 

 browned for blushes to shine through ; and, turning 

 quickly, he took a dim trail that led up and over the 

 mountain. I had long prided myself on my " gait," but 

 I wasn't " in it " alongside the gentleman from Canyon 

 Creek. By the time we had reached the crest of the 

 ridge I was pretty well blowed, and requested him to 

 take it easy, as we had plenty of time. The flies had 

 loaned him a pair of wings, I guess. At any rate, if any 

 body thinks that Mr. Frank Robinson is not a walker, let 

 them follow him over the cut-off between Milk and Can- 

 yon creeks. 



Just over the ridge Frank stopped suddenly and called 

 my attention to the carcass of a small deer that had evi- 

 dently been killed and partly devoured by cougars or 

 wolves. " Them varmints always gets the best meat," 

 he remarked and took advantage of the circumstance to 

 add apologetically, " You can't much blame a feller for 

 gittin' a little hisself once in a while, when them cussed 

 pant'ers don't much mor'n kill and suck the blood." i 

 remarked that it was strange that in all my fishi-ng ex- 

 cursions I had never run across a live cougar in his 

 native wilds. " Nothin' strange about it," said Frank, 

 " They are nothin but a great big cat, and they hev all 

 the cat's ways and cunnin'. They hear you comin' and 

 see you afore you see them, and lie low until you pass. 

 You mout go within six feet of them a hundred times 

 and never know that there was a cougar in the kentry. 

 After you pass them they raise up and watch you, and 

 then come out in the trail and sniff your track, and 

 probably foller you for a while, jist to size you up and 

 see what kind of critter ye are. Without a regular bar 

 dog that smells 'em and trees 'em you will probably 

 never see a wild cougar. Your yaller dog ther is no good 

 for cougars. There's just enough dog about him to skeer 

 the cougars a little, and they skin out as soon as they see 

 or smell him. If he finds their track he will smell around, 

 of course, but be aint the kind of a dog to foller and tree 

 'em. No," he continued, " there aint no danger from 

 cougars, unless it might be in the winter time, when the 

 game all comes down out of the mountains and he gits 

 nearly starved to death : but he ginerally follers the 

 game wherever it goes. Of course a she with her kits is 

 bad, but no meaner nor a bar or lynx ; anything will 

 fight for its young, even to a bird." 



But here was Canyon Creek. Its roar bad been audible 

 ever since we crossed the divide. I was not in the least 

 disappointed; the country was as rugged, the scenery as 

 superb as I bad imagined, Frank had his flies on the 

 water almost before I was aware that we had reached the 

 creek. No jointed rod with its guides and reel bothered 

 him. His was strictly a primitive tackle all except the 

 new leader with its flies, which looked like a posey 

 girl at a pic-nic, as his whip was made up entirely of 

 royal coachmen. This certainly evinced his estimation 

 of the "bugs with white wings and a red streak around 

 the body." The creek as a matter of course was rather 

 more brushy than Milk Creek, but still , by the exercise of 

 a little care, we had no trouble casting. 



Many anglers entertain the opinion that the simple act 

 of clearing away the timber and letting the sun in drives 

 the trout out of the creek. My observation and experi- 

 ence lead me to the conclusion that such a result follows, 

 not so much from letting the sun in as from depriving 



