128 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 11, 1S92. 



drink in the sweet waters of the Molalla. It was truly a 

 beautiful stream, and there was a tinkling melody in the 

 laughing rapid below the ford that tempted me. It 

 seemed to say: 



A merry old trout is hiding here, 



Come cast your fly and see. 



The horses drank slowly at the fount of bliss as if to 

 delay their departure from this horse heaven as long as 

 possible. Ira had tightened the rein3 to move on when 

 the siren in the rapid again whispered in my ear: 

 A merry old trout is hiding here, 

 Close under the alder tree. 



"Ira," said I, "hold on'a minute. I am going to try that 

 pool below the rapid.'' Ira laughed and remarked, "All 

 right, try it if ye want to, for we've got lots o* time and 

 to spare, but you won't ketch any feesh,"and then added, 

 "Nobody never catches any right in the Molalla, it's too 

 big a stream, you'd better wait till ye git to Trout Creek 

 or Pine Creek." "Never you mind, old boy," said I, "I'll 

 show you a trick worth* two of Trout Creek." So the 

 horses were stopped on the stony bank, and I proceeded 

 to put my heaviest split-bamboo together and tie on a 

 whip of No. 4 flies, while Billy lay back on the folded 

 tents for a snooze and my wife drew a long sigh. 



Ira crossed his legs, lit his pipe, and looked over his 

 shoulder at me with a "you'll find that the old man 

 knows best" sort of an air. Nothing daunted, I Btepped 

 down to the foot of the rapid where it noisily threw itself 

 into the embrace of the sleepy pool, shaded from the 

 western sun by drooping water willows and leafy alders. 

 Taking a position that gave me good command of the 

 pool, I made a long cast to the further side of the rapid 

 and anxiously watched my flies as they danced merrily 

 down into the swirl. 



Spat! Bang! Whir-r-r-r! And away went two big fel- 

 lows well hooked on the white-miller and royal-coachman 

 respectively; and, with a pride and joy that could only 

 find vent in a regular Apache war whoop, I let them go. 



My yell of delight startled the drowsy occupants of the 

 wagon. Instantly Ira's pipe was out of his mouth and he 

 was staring at me in asconishment; my wife twisted 

 around on the seat to see what wa3 going on; and Billy 

 was standing flat-flooted on the back seat, while Mike, 

 the old dog, leaped out of his corner in the wagon and 

 hurried to my assistance. 



''Bring the landing net, Billy," I yelled; and in a 

 twinkling Billy had the net and was out of the wagon 

 ready for business. For fully ten minutes I exercised my 

 knowledge of the art of fly-fishing to the fullest degree, 

 but finally successfully landed both. Oh, but they were 

 beauties! Two-pounders and no mistake! 



With a pride and rapture known only to the successful 

 angler, I surveyed my capture as they lay there on the 

 polished stones, gasping and dripping in their jeweled 

 loveliness. 



"That settles it," said Billy, and in a jiffy his rod, land- 

 ing net and creel were out of the wagon and down by 

 the pool. 



"Wal," said Ira, "I reckon as how you uns is goin' to 

 stop awhile, so I will take the woman on up home and 

 you fellows can walk up when ye git tired, for it's only 

 'bout a mile." 



Yes, "we uns were undoubtedly going to stop awhile," 

 whether he drove up home or clear on to Oregon City. 

 So away over the wide bottom of the Molalla rattled the 

 wagon, and BiUy and I were alone in our glory. 



Two hours of precious daylight were at our disposal, 

 and we started in at once to utilize them. The entire ex- 

 tent of the stream fished by us that evening could not 

 have exceeded a hundred rods. Forty-two trout, all big 

 fellows, repaid our pleasing toil, and no two happier 

 anglers ever sauntered up the twilight trail than Billy and 

 I as we recounted the proud rises and graceful curves, 

 the vicious tugs and bold leaps of the spotted denizens of 

 the Molalla that had surrendered to our victorious rods. 



S. H. GltEENE. 



Portland, Oregon. 



LARGE-MOUTH AND SMALL-MOUTH. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In your issue of Jan. 28 "Old Sam" concludes his arti- 

 cle entitled "Bass and Butterfly" by saying: "No big- 

 mouthed bass there; no dull, heavy splash and dead 

 weight to pull in; but only the trim, eager, active, gallant 

 and dauntless small-mouth bass, fighting like a hero and 

 game to the last. The Creator made the white man and 

 the Indian, so he made the big-mouth and the email- 

 mouth bass; but the one is no more alike than the other 

 in staying qualities," 



I heartily approve of his description of the gaminess of 

 the small-mouth bass, but with all due respect for his 

 opinion (which I doubt not was honestly formed from his 

 own experience as well as from the experience of others), 

 I feel it my duty to the large-mouth bass of this locality 

 to take exception to his comparison. An Indian in his 

 natural state, I believe, is very much the same wherever 

 he is found. Not so with the large-mouth bass. Its 

 gaminess and staying qualities depend very much upon 

 where we meet it. The fighting qualities of the large - 

 mouth bass found in the small inland lakes and sluggish 

 streams is no more to be compared to that of his brother 

 found in the cold water of large lakes and the clear run- 

 ning water of rivers, than the fighting tactic3of the grass 

 pike (Northern pickerel) is to be compared to that of the 

 trout. In his "Book of the Black Bass," Dr. Henshall 

 says: "Fish inhabiting swiftly running streams are 

 always more vigorous and 'gamy' than those in still 

 waters, and it is probable that, where the large-mouth 

 exists alone in very shallow and sluggish waters, of high 

 temperature and thickly grown with algte, it will exhibit 

 less combative qualities, consequent on the enervating 

 influence of its surroundings; but where both species in- 

 habit the same waters and are subject to the same condi- 

 tions, I am convinced that no angler can tell whether he 

 has hooked a large or small-mouth bass from their resist- 

 ance and mode of fighting, provided they are of equal 

 weight, until he has the ocular evidence." 



My experience leads me to believe that Br. Henshall's 

 conclusion is very nearly correct. I am well aware that 

 most anglers will agree with "Old Sam" as the general 

 reputation of the la rge-mouth bass has suffered on account 

 of its being found in nearly all the small inland lakes 

 and sluggish streams, the waters of which are generally 

 warm and often muddy, and where few, if any, small- 

 mouth bass exist, and there I think is where most anglers 



have made his acquaintance, and under such conditions 

 have they judged them; in other words, its reputation 

 for gameness has been injured by its ability to adjust 

 itself to circumstances and live and thrive iu almost any 

 waters. I am inclined to believe that if "Old Sam" cotild 

 forget his past experience and, perhaps I might respect- 

 fully say, his prejudices, and meet the large-mouth bass 

 on the same "ground" with its small-mouth competitor, 

 in the clear water of the St. Clair Flats, in any of the 

 channels that carry the water of the St. Clair Eiver to 

 the lake, he would not find it a dull, dead weight to pull 

 in, but something with life, activity, bone, muscle and 

 endurance, worthy of his skill; and that he would return 

 home with at least a better opinion of the large-mouth 

 bass— with no apology for having it on his string (we 

 don't use creels), as he certainly would need none for 

 placing it on his table. Too many times have I hooked 

 the fish, and contested with it for every inch of a long 

 line, to doubt its gamene6s, under favorable circum- 

 stances; and while I believe the small-mouth bass is en- 

 titled to the reputation he has so nobly won, I firmly 

 believe that the lai-ge-mouth bass is greatly underesti- 

 mated as a game fish. I do not doubt that in some inland 

 lakes and ponds he may, when pressed by hunger, 

 devour snakes, but for all that he is no "Injin." 

 Detroit, Mich. J. W. S. 



A GREEN HAND AMONG THE SALMON. 



"/^"iOME up with me next June and catch you a 



\J salmon," quoth my friend E. W. Davis. "I have 

 lots of water there and a pleasant place to stop," This to 

 a not over-ardent fisherman, whose highest ambition has 

 always been to catch a tautog of over lOlbs., and who in 

 thirty years' fishing has never done so, and to whom the 

 hand line and not the rod has been most familiar — seemed 

 a preposterous proposition. I had never cast a fly in my 

 life, and the lordly salmon I thought was very safe from 

 me, and so I told my friend. "But," he said, "come 

 along; everybody has to catch his first salmon, and so 

 mu3t you." So all ignorant and without hope I went. 



The Grand Cascapedia is in the Province of Quebec 

 and flows into the Bay Chaleur from the north. A drive 

 of twelve miles from the mouth of it over a good road 

 brought us to the pleasant farmhouse, within a stone's 

 throw of the river, which was to be our headquarters for 

 the month. Here my friend had assembled a small army 

 of helpprs, for each fisherman requires two to man his 

 boat. The boats are built on the canoe model, and are 

 very able with the weight of three men in them. Id was 

 late on Saturday when I arrived, and as no fishing is 

 allowed on Sunday I devoted that day to learning the 

 rudiments of fly-casting. My friend put a beautiful rod 

 into my hands with the remark that if I smashed it there 

 were plenty more; and as he reeled off the line and cast 

 70 or 80ft. with it, it seemed easy enough. Under his 

 coaching I worked all day. My fir^t efforts were dismal 

 failures. The fly would persist in going in every direc- 

 tion except the right one, to the great edification and 

 amusement of the numerous helpers, who are all of them 

 more or less skillful at casting; but at last I began to get 

 the hang of it to a small extent, though an intelligent 

 cow would have been less of a chump than I was at first. 



Monday morning found us in our boats and off down 

 the river to the pools a llotted to each of the party. Mr. 

 Davis owns about four miles of the river, including some 

 of the very best pools; the coming season he will acquire 

 more by lease and purchase from the riparian owners. 

 These fishing privileges are most carefully guarded, and 

 this comparatively remote stream is as strictly preserved 

 as if it flowed through a private estate. 



It has a swift current, broken now and then by rapids 

 where it narrows; and slows upa little at the deeper spots, 

 where the fish like to rest. Coming to one of these 

 deeper reaches of the river, the helper in the after part of 

 the boat dropped over an iron weight shod with lead; this 

 is to prevent any noise when in strikes the stones on the 

 bottom, the water in these deeper pools being some 6 to 

 10ft. deep. The angler now stands up amidship and begins 

 to cast, the current takes his fly down stream as soon as 

 it touches the water. After a few casts right and left he 

 unreels a few feet more line, and continues to do so until 

 he has as much line out as he can conveniently manage. 

 Then he reels up short: the weight is lifted, and the boat 

 drops down 80 or 40ft. ; and the casting is renewed until 

 the whole length of the pool is fishtd. My only victim 

 that first day was a kelt. 



A kelt is a salmon that, for some reason best known to 

 itself, has not migrated to salt water the previous season, 

 or perhaps for a longer time. He is long and lank and 

 dark in color, is only eaten by Indians or used to bait a 

 bear trap, and very rarely jumps out of water when 

 hooked. 



This one took the fly with a rush and a splash, and 

 away he went. The reel screamed, the rod bent double, 

 and the two helpers shouted all sorts of directions in a 

 breath. I had been instructed to let the reel alone on the 

 first rush of the fish, and to keep the tip well back and 

 give him the butt. This I did, and some very strong 

 "naval language" to the helpers made them dumb, the 

 anchor was taken in in a jiff v. and down the stream we 

 went in grand procession. Keeping the line taut and 

 reeling in when opportunity offered, we soon got the fish 

 to a gravelly beach, where the water shoaled, and here I 

 soon exhausted him; and when he turned up his side one 

 of the men waded in and, grasping his tail, drew him 

 out. We unhooked him and after a brief examination 

 gave him his liberty, and he slowly swam off into deeper 

 water none the worse for his encounter. His weight was 

 about 251bs., and he was not a handsome fish to look at. 

 Kelt are never counted by fishermen and are voted a 

 nuisance, as their capture disturbs the pool and frightens 

 good fish off. 



It was several days before I landed a fresh-run fish, 

 though every day I caught a kelt or two, and only had 

 one break away by the leader getting round a hidden 

 snag. At last one afternoon a fresh-run fish jumped two 

 or three times near the boat; then after a few casts took 

 the fly, a silver-doctor, and the sensation at my end was 

 very like hooking the Chicago limited. He jumped half 

 a dozen times out of water, and each time I forgot to 

 lower mv tip, as I had been told was the proper caper; in 

 fact in his first rush he seemed to me to be out of water 

 most of the time. He ran across the pool, which was a 

 hundred yards wide there, and we got below him and 

 made him fight up stream, and after half an hour worked 

 him up to the boat, and one of the helpers took him into 

 the boat very neatly with the gaff. Knocking him on 



the head, we paddled ashore, and laying him on the 

 grass I smoked a pipe over him in great content, 



At last I had caught a legitimate fresh-run salmon all 

 by my own unaided efforts, which was about the very 

 last thing I had ever expected to accomplish in this world 

 or any other, and my long coining lOlbs. tautog might 

 forever go uncaught for all me, I thought (he lias not 

 arrived as yet, by the way): and I will write a letter to 

 Forest aud Stream, I said to myself, for the encourage- 

 ment of greenhorns and the glorious fraternity of hand- 

 line fishermen, of which noble band I am an humble 

 brother. 



My fish weighed 26lbs. — not a large salmon for the Cas- 

 capedia, where 40-pounders and upward are not rare. 

 Mrs. Davis took one the same day. which weighed 861bs. , 

 and to be beaten by her was an added pleasure. I took 

 three others during my stay, the largest 281bs., and I lost 

 none save the kelt that fouled the unseen snag, we judged 

 it to be a kelt, for we never saw him during the hour I 

 had him on. 



It was a poor year for fish, everybody said, but it 

 seemed to me it was a very good year for the subscriber, 

 and to those of your readers who by virtue of their 

 modesty, lack the ambition to tackle the salmon, and to 

 whom fly-casting is a bugbear and a mystery, made ten- 

 fold so by the average writer on the subject, I say go and 

 try as I did and you will be astonished at the result. Not 

 but what the skilled angler will catch fi3h where you 

 won't, and play and land them in quarter the time you 

 will, but you never need begrudge the time you occupy 

 in playing a fish, and to a modest man one fish a day is 

 glory enough. All you need is unlimited patience, skill 

 enough to get your fly out fifty feet in as good form as is 

 allowed you to do (a salmon hooks himself), and coolness 

 enough to play and tire out your fish, in doing which a 

 wise green hand will take plenty of time. 



I saw Mr. Davi3 land a 36-pound fish in ten minutes 

 after he took the fly, while I worked one day an hour and 

 twenty minutes over a big kelt as it proved, to be, which 

 we thought might be a fresh run fish, and so I was over 

 careful, but that was a very short hour. That is the dif- 

 ference between a good fisherman and a poor one. 1 know 

 of some skilled salmon killers who will laugh at this my 

 screed, but I write of things as 1 found them, and to en- 

 courage others to go and do likewise. Privileges can be 

 hired by the month, or more or less as the need requires, 

 of the owners or lessees of water; and the amateur can 

 try for himself, and I am very sure success will attend 

 him. 



I must not close without a word about the trout in the 

 Cascapedia. All through June little feliows of 3 or 4oz. in 

 weight would occasionally take the fly and make a bother, 

 how such small fry could take such a large mouthful was 

 always a mystery to me. I was told that in July the 

 large trout would run up from the sea. Near the end of 

 June one day whde casting for salmon without success I 

 saw several large trout break water, and putting on a 

 small dark fly I caught in a short time twelve that 

 weighed 32lb3., the largest 541b3. I had great sport and 

 thought I could do it the nexc day, but I didn't. It seems 

 they run up the river iu schools, and I happened to strike 

 a school that day. All through July they are very abun- 

 dant, and finer fish on the table I never saw. N. D. 



BOSTON NOTES. 



A MONO the Boston fishermen who have gone South 

 x\ within the last week to try the tarpon fishing off 

 the Florida coast may be mentioned Mr, W. S. Hills. 

 Although this gentleman has recently become totally 

 blind, he does not give up his angling pleasures, Last 

 spring at the Eangeleys Mr. Hills had remarkably good 

 luck, and succeeded in capturing a number of large fish. 

 He is very persevering and patient, and his friends 

 earnestly hope that he will be successful in landing a 

 fine specimen of the noble tarpon on his present trip. 



Mr. S. A, Carleton, of Boston, will shortly go South to 

 try the Florida fishing. 



Mr. T. C. Felton, one of the Hub's angline: devotees, 

 will start for the Pacific coast about March 10. He will 

 visit a brother who is located at Santa Barbara, Cal., and 

 goes fully prepared to enjoy the fishing which abounds 

 in that locality. His description of the sport to be ob- 

 tained there, by casting off the rocks, or in trolling from 

 a boat oft the shore, is quite thrilling. Bonito and bari- 

 couta are the principal fish hooked, and always give very 

 rare sport. 



The Massachusetts Fish and Game Protective Associa- . 

 tion have issued cards for a regular monthly meeting 

 and dinner, to be held at the American House, in Boston, 

 on the evening of Feb. 11. The constantly growing 

 membership of this organization — so important to the 

 interests of sportsmen, is a source of wonder and gratifi- 

 cation to airiovers of the red and gun. 



The petition which is being circulated among New 

 England saimon anglers interested in the Canadian 

 salmon fishing, asking that all salmon net3 shall be raised 

 during three successive days and nights of each week, is 

 receiving many signatures. This rule, if enforced, would 

 add materially to the value of the privileges owned by 

 Americans. Wl. B. Scott. 



ANGLING NOTES. 



ME J. HERBERT JOHNSTON and an angling com- 

 panion had a peculiar and rather uncomfortable 

 experience last September. They were fishing in the 

 Gaspe district and decided to try the water on the Island 

 of Anticosti in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. After consid- 

 erable difficulty they managed to find a fishing schooner 

 to take them over to the island. As it is a rough and 

 dangerous passage, and there are no harbors in which 

 shelter can be found, they had to wait several days for a 

 fair wind. Finally they arrived safely with all their 

 traps, including tent and provisions, and dismissed their 

 captain, who promised to return for them on a certain 

 day. They enjoyed the best of sport there and caught 

 trout until they were tired of fishing. In one large pool 

 they saw six salmon, but as these were out of season they 

 did not disturb them. The great trouble was that the 

 small trout were so plentiful in the pools that they would 

 not give the big fellows a chance, but would seize the 

 flies the moment they touched the water, and every fly on 

 the leader would land a fish at every cast. 



At the appointed time they returned to the coast but 

 no schooner appeared. Their provisions were about used 

 up, and they dared not return to the interior to shoot or 

 fish for fear that the boat would come during their ab- 



