170 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 35, 1893, 



IN THE MUSCALLUNGE COUNTRY. 



T\0 you recollect how sweet the click of a reel sounds 

 ±J as you take out your fishing tackle after a year's 

 rest, and prepare for the summer's outing? It makes you 

 think of the Kingfisher stringing azure loops from tree 

 to tree along the river; of the burnished sheen of the 

 lake where the silver birch gleams as white from its 

 shadow in the water as from its place on the shore; of 

 the smoke curling up from the camp-fire, and drifting 

 away in a blue cloud through the silent aisles of the 

 forest. What pictures and emotions that old reel recall! 

 My wife said it sounded good and she launched off into a 

 vivid description of a big strike she had once on a north- 

 ern lake and a big fish that got away. But she was not 

 to go with me this time. Indeed I was left to go alone. 

 Tom, the most superb of all camp companions, had gone 

 off to Michigan. Stanley was tied to his bank desk. Ira 

 and Lawrence were wandering amid the glories of Yellow- 

 stone and being gloriously bled by the Park hotel keepers. 



Being deserted by these I bad nothing to do but go 

 alone, for all others seemed skeptical when told of the 

 big fish in "Wisconsin. Some of brother Houghs true 

 stories about that region would have palsied them. How- 

 ever, mine was grief with compensation. If you go to 

 the woods companionless, you need not remain so. All 

 wild things come closer to you then. Nature takes you 

 nearer to her heart, and talks to you more plainly. 

 You hear her say things that could not be heard at all if 

 there were the noise of human voices about. Nature is 

 shy and still when man is talking. Then, too, if you are 

 alone in your excursion to the woods and waters, you 

 can camp under any tree you choose, cast your line in the 

 waters that look the likeliest to you, and tell your fish 

 stories when you get home with the sweet consciousness 

 that there is no witness to your little improvements upon 

 the truth. 



It was raining straight down when the train brought 

 me to Manitowish, on the Milwaukee, Lake Shore & 

 Western road, early on a late August morning. It was a 

 sodden, determined-never-to-quit kind of rain. The only 

 hotel in the little settlement had a saloon for its front 

 room — not a very congenial place for this writer. The 

 dam at Rest Lake was my objective. This dam makes 

 the largest reservoir in the State. It backs the water up 

 and deepens it in Rest, Stone, Manitowish, Spider, Clear 

 and Island lakes. These are magnificent sheets of water, 

 and the lumbermen have a vast reservoir, on the ice of 

 which they dump their logs in the winter and from 

 which they feed the Manitowish River during the great 

 spring drive. 



About 1 o'clock I got my outfit into an old, leaky boat, 

 with a muscular guide at the oars, for a fourteen-mile 

 pull up to the dam. The Manitowish River would be 

 called a creek in Illinois. But then, though an athlete 

 could go over it at one good jump in places, it is clear 

 and often deep. Henry, the guide, thought we might 

 catch a few fish on the way up. This sounded well, and 

 out came an old rod from its wrappings. Ah, what a 

 moment it is when you are just at the gateway of a 

 region famous for its big fish and you joint up for the first 

 cast! The hopes and dreams of a'whole year are about to 

 be realized. You tingle to your finger tips with an exal- 

 tation of mind and body. You can't get the line through 

 the guides fast enough. You have absolute confidence in 

 your good fortune. You can easily imagine a big fellow 

 lying down there in the swirling depths just panting 

 for a chance at your hook. 



We stopped at a place where the water swept under 

 some low-growing bushes — a deep eddy which looked 

 very fishy. Henry tied up the boat and got out to catch 

 some frogs for bait. But he was too big and slow. He 

 tried to cover them with a landing net. a method I have 

 seen commended in Forest and Stream, But it is a 

 poor way. Henry only succeeded in breaking the hoop 

 of the landing net. There is a knack in catching frogs, 

 as in almost anything else. You mustn't be too fast, but 

 you must be fast enough. The very best thing to catch 

 frogs with is what a man is likely to have along with 

 him most of the time, his hand. One can get within 

 reaching distance of nearly any frog if he uses caution. 

 Move the hand out slowly to within about 18in. of the 

 batrachian, then dart it out as swiftly as possible with a 

 grab and the game is yours. Do not try to put the hand 

 down on the frog from above or you will miss him, but 

 start straight at him like a flash. The guide said he had 

 never seen it done that way. We soon had frogs enough. 

 By the way, do you know that frogs eat each other? One 

 day, several years ago, 1 was filling a bucket with them 

 for a fishing trip when I discovered a big bull sitting 

 stolidly in the sun, on a lily pad, with the feet of one of 

 his smaller brethren sticking out of his mouth. The con- 

 clusion was inevitable. Frogs are cannibals. They eat 

 their own kind. 



But to get back to the Manitowish River. Where the 

 water swept under the bushes in the bend I dropped a 

 green frog. It had hardly gotten out of sight when there 

 came a good tug on the rod. The fish was fast, and after 

 a fair fight lay in the boat, a three-pound pike. A friend 

 of his escaped with the next frog after being hooked and 

 played for at least five minutes. Then I put on a dimin- 

 utive croaker, not much bigger than the end of one's fin- 

 ger. It was an unattractive little fellow, but had barely 

 gotten into the water when it was seized. I thought at 

 first I had a bass, but when the fish came into the boat 

 found it was a pike, and out of its mouth came the frog 

 of which I had been robbed a few minutes before. Talk 

 about greed. That pike was an old glutton. He was not 

 content with having been swung around on the cold hook 

 for several minutes, but wanted a second frog with steel 

 sauce. I do not believe, from this and similar experi- 

 ences, that a fish suffers from being hooked in the mouth. 

 We stopped at several other places, and when evening 

 came had a good string of bass and pike, but were less 

 than half way to the dam. But we reached a place where 

 an Irishman had found a bit of pine land which had been 

 overlooked and had homesteaded it. He was a shrewd 

 son of Erin, had a good sized clearing for a garden, a 

 fairly comfortable log shack, and was building himself 

 the best house I saw in that country. He made us wel- 

 come. His good wife cooked iis a hearty supper and we 

 spread our blankets on the floor of the half finished new 

 house. The night was frosty. Indeed, they had frost 



every month last summer up there. That is not unusual. 

 We were not that night, or any other night, troubled 

 with mosquitoes. It was getting too cool for them. Don't 

 go into northern Wisconsin in midsummer. The fish 

 won't bite then and the mosquitoes will. Life will be a 

 burden. You will remember your trip as a nightmare. 

 Camping out you will consider a delusion and a snare, 

 and the joys of fishing nil. But when the frosty nights 

 and clear days of late August and September come on, 

 quit grubbing for gold, get north where the air is bracing 

 and spicy with the breath of the pine woods, and cuddle 

 down on the generous and kindly breast of old mother 

 Earth. You have something to live for if you have never 

 yet been sung to sleep by the northern pines. 



The next morning we got an early start up stream. At 

 many of the bends in the river the water has scooped out 

 the sandy bottom and made a hole a few yards square 

 and from 4 to 10ft. deep. The bushes tisually hang low 

 over these, and sometimes catch drift. The current 

 slackens at these points, and here are the favorite lurking 

 places of the lustiest small-mouth bass it was ever my 

 good fortune to hook. A green frog dropped above and 

 allowed to float just under the edge of the drift or bushes 

 would, in nearly every case, call forward a bronze warrior 

 of superb fighting qualities. It takes good work to keep 

 these fellows from fouling the line, their life in swiftly- 

 running water seems to make them more muscular than 

 their fellows in the lake, They have the advantage of 

 the current, too, against the rod, and make good use of it, 

 so that the fight with one of them is always a lively one, 



We reached the dam about 5 o'clock in the afternoon. 

 When we pulled the fish out for inspection, there were 44 

 of them. Six were muscallunge. caught in a little lake, 

 really but an enlargement of the river. The heaviest of 

 these weighed 61bs., and they averaged 3lbs. There were 

 19 small-mouth bass; the heaviest weighing 51bs. and the 

 smallest l|lb3. There were 19 pike — good fellows— total 

 weight 86 lbs, Not bad for a little more than one day's 

 fishing. Indeed, I began to feel that I was something of 

 a fish hog, with that fine string, until I thought of the 

 poor stay-at-homes, and started Henry off down the river 

 to hurry the fish away on the night express to the fellows 

 who could not go along. 



At the dam is a logging camp. In summer it is com- 

 paratively deserted. But Captain Henry of Eau Claire, 

 one of the genial gentlemen whom it does one's soul good 

 to meet, one of the chief lumbermen of that region, had 

 turned this camp into a sort of summer hotel, so that it 

 was a pleasant, unique stopping place. The Captain's 

 family was there for a few weeks' outing. There was 

 Jack the "clerk" of the hotel, Charley and Johnnie the 

 Jew cooks, Perry, the dam keeper, with several other at- 

 tacheesof the pJace. There was a handful of guides wait- 

 ing for the pecunious sportsman. There were several 

 other fishermen there, among the number E. Vliet, gen- 

 eral ticket agent of M. L. S. & W., and the American 

 Consul General at Constantinople. 



This lumber camp is a peculiar place, a building con- 

 structed of huge pine logs— the whole perhaps 70ft. long 

 and 30ft. wide. The comb of the roof is about 12ft. from 

 the floor. The roof runs from end to end of the building, 

 but the building itself is pierced through the middle with 

 an open passage way or "alley." Along each side of the 

 large room are two rows of bunks. The place will accom- 

 modate 75 or 80 men in the logging season. With plenty of 

 blankets, and a good bit of hemlock browse for feathers, 

 it was a fine place to sleep. And when the day's sport 

 was over the fisherman and guides gathered about the 

 big stove in the center of the long room, to talk over the 

 haps and mishaps of the day. 



Captain Henry and his land-looker, Mr. Smith, came 

 in one day from a trip they took to inspect some timber, 

 reporting that they had found a good sized little lake 

 which was not on any map. Mr. Smith had furnished a 

 hook and line from his pocketbook and the Captain had, 

 with a cranberry for bait, caught a green bass off the 

 shore. With a piece of this for bait he had another in tow 

 when the hook broke. He said they could see hundreds 

 of the ravenous fellows in the clear water, and proposed 

 that we go after them. Loading a boat with tent, blankets, 

 and a generous supply of provisions, we started— the Cap- 

 tain, Mr. Smith, Hugh, the captain's boy, nine years old, 

 and myself. Our way lay through ReBt, Stone, Spider 

 and Island lakes, the latter the most beautiful of the 

 group. Then for several miles up the outlet of Big Lake, 

 pushing our way among fallen trees and over shallow 

 places, camping at dusk beside this outlet at the point 

 where we would leave it in the morning to push our way 

 through the timber to the newly found lake. The tent 

 was soon pitched, the coffee boiling, the bacon fried and 

 the welcome supper eaten, not, however, before the 

 floor of the tent had been shingled with plenty of fra- 

 grant balsam boughs. The first thing after pitching a 

 tent is to fix a good bed; supper can wait a little, but it is 

 a poor plan to delay in fixing the feather bed. 



Lying there that night the Captain told me of the 

 strange life the lumberman leads. In his early life he 

 was a landlooker and cruiser. All winter he and his 

 partner would travel through the woods, sleeping a t night 

 in a tent, with the snow for a bed, the mercury way below 

 zero, a simple A tent over them, open at one end to let in 

 the heat from the big fire built in front. The wages of 

 such work were very high, and so he got his start in life. 

 Then he told of the life of the men on the drives in the 

 spring, working fifteen or sixteen hours per day at the 

 hardest kind of toil. It is not the life of a sybarite that 

 these hardy men lead, and if they are rough and reckless 

 sometimes, perhaps the exposure and hardships of their 

 life may have something to do with it. One thing is sure, 

 they have generous hearts, and the sportsman who falls 

 among them is royally treated, provided always that he 

 is not a braggart. The fellow who knows it all and can 

 do it all is as much of a nuisance in a lumber camp as 

 anywhere else. 



We were lulled to sleep by the lapping of the little 

 stream beside which the tent was pitched. When the 

 gray dawn came it was raining. Instead of being ready 

 to start at daylight through the timber, it was late before 

 breakfast was over. We could bear an occasional gun 

 up toward Big Lake where the Indians were gathered 

 at the wild rice rice beds. They go every year and har- 

 vest the rice. Pushing their canoes among the rice they 

 tie bunches of the ripened heads together, drawing them 

 together from each side, and beat out the grain which 

 falls into the boat. An Indian will gather several bush- 

 els a day. We left the tent snugly tied up, hoping no 

 prowling Indian would disturb it, This was not likely, 



for Captain Henry had blazed his mark into a couple of 

 trees, and most of the Indians would recognize this mark 

 and would not care to incur the owner's wrath. Many 

 of these woodman have a peculiar mark of their own, 

 made up of notches and blazes, which they are sure to 

 leave on some tree where they have camped or worked. 

 Smith led the way through the dripping timber, traveling 

 by compass and breaking brush. After him went the 

 Captain blazing th e trees, then sturdy little Hugh, the 

 pason bring up the rear with a bucket of live bait. It's 

 slow traveling in that fashion, and it took us over an 

 hour to go two miles. But it was worth the effort to get 

 there: that little lake was swarming with green bass. 

 We fished only a little while and caught nearly a hun- 

 dred. If we had a boat and could have gotten out to 

 more favorable places I believe we could have loaded it 

 to the water's edge in a little while. But what was the 

 use. We had all we wanted to carry back to camp; some 

 of them would weigh 1-Jlbs. ; none weighed much less 

 than lib. They were ravenous and gamy. 



There are certainly two kinds of big-mouth bass in 

 northern Wisconsin. In the one kind, mainly the sort we 

 caught in that lake, the lines which define the back and 

 belly are much more nearly parallel, and in proportion to 

 their size these fish are not nearly so thick from side to 

 side as the other variety. They have a clearly-defined 

 black line running from gill-covers to tail along the 

 middle of their sides, especially seen when in the water. 

 They have no red ring about the iris of the eye like their 

 chunkier cousins. They always go in schools, and if 

 frightened from among the lily-pads or an old treetop, 

 will dart away and in a minute come cautiously back to 

 see what it was that frightened them. I never saw the 

 other variety of big-mouths act this way, or the small- 

 mouths either. It is the other variety that grow to 6 or 

 81bs. in size, and Smith told me of one lake where they 

 ran up to lOlbs., lots of them. I'm going there next sum- 

 mer. Now there is as much difference in these two 

 varieties as between either of them and the small-mouth, 

 and no classification is at all accurate which does not re- 

 cognize these striking differences. 



Our arms and backs ached with the loads of fish when 

 we got back to the tent. It was cold and lowry and we 

 waited till the next morning to return to the dam. It is 

 right certain that the man who is fortunate enough to 

 wet his line in that newly-located lake, next summer, 

 will get all the fish he wants for one day, if he goes 

 about it in the right fashion. How did the fish get into 

 those Northern lakes which have neither inlet or outlet? 

 Perhaps the wildfowl carry the eggs on, their feet. Pos- 

 sibly the eagle3 and fishhawks have dropped yet-living 

 fish into these sequestered waters. In these ways it may 

 be they have been peopled so they now teem with finny 

 clans, to the great delight of the fisherman. 



Richard Gear Hobbs. 

 lto be conciixidki) next week.] 



WILDFOWL IN TEXAS.— I. 



LAST fall I was seized with an ardent desire for a 

 hunting and fishing trip; and fully realizing the 

 necessity of relaxation from close confinement, decided 

 to visit the winter home of the wildfowl and birds of 

 annual migration on the lower Colorado River and inland 

 waters of the coast of Texas, especially that portion 

 remote from the usual routes of transportation and in a 

 section of country where the market-shooter is at a dis- 

 advantage. My hope to be able to answer some of the 

 queries that appear in the Forest and Stream from time 

 time in regard to the whereabouts and scarcity of wild- 

 fowl, will be sufficient excuse possibly for giving the 

 readers of my favorite journal the notes and data con- 

 cerning quite a prolonged trip. 



The admirable series of papers contributed by Mr. Hal- 

 lock descriptive of sport in North Carolina, and the vari- 

 ous advantages offered by that section, especially to the 

 sportsmen of the Eastern cities, makes me anxious to 

 remind the lovers of gun, rifle aud rod, resident in the 

 cities of the great West, that there is another and a better 

 "happy hunting ground" offered in this great State of 

 Texas, convenient to reach, where sport can be obtained 

 at no great outlay of time, money or'personal discomfort. 

 The game of the coast country is abundant and varied, 

 and the climate and scenery such as cannot be equalled; 

 but fitly to set forth its attractions Mr. Hallock's facile 

 pen and habits of observation are needed, for I am more 

 conversant with the gun, oar and sail than with the 

 pen. 



Many sportsmen readers have planned hunting trips, 

 some of them of novel character, and a few details of out- 

 fit will not be amiss. First in order was a companion, 

 and he was not hard to find, Will V. being strong, will- 

 ing and patient, zealous about hunting and fishing and 

 with an excellent appetite. (Appetite is to be regarded 

 as one of the prime requisites for a companion, for it leads 

 to cheerfulness and content when gratified, and great 

 desire to have it gratified, which in our position could 

 only be done by personal endeavor, for we worked under 

 the motto of "no kill 'em, no eat 'em." I started on the 

 trip without appetite, but full of years and rheumatism 

 and other isms, which, happily, have departed — except 

 the years — leaving the appetite in their stead). 



Next was a suitable boat, one not too heavy for use in 

 a low stage of river, and still strong enough to navigate 

 the coast bays, some of which have open water compar- 

 able in area to Long Island Sound, but without its depth. 

 Austin, the city of the great dam and the industrial 

 activity emanating therefrom, was bunted over, and not 

 a mechanic found who was acquaintad with boat work. 

 So tools discarded thirty years ago were again taken up, 

 planB were drawn and a boat was built of iin. cypress, 

 14ft. 6in. over all, 4ft. lOin. beam, 1ft. 3in. least free- 

 board, with open cockpit of 7^ft., deck and washboard 

 canvassed and painted. The boat was fitted with center- 

 board, and while having little dead rise was carefully 

 modeled and proved easy to row, and reasonably fast and 

 manageable under sail, as well as a good sea boat. Mast, 

 boom, sprit, sail and oars were procured from Galveston, 

 the nearest large seaport town. By aid of the sprit and 

 a pair of straddles a tent of drilling was arranged over 

 the cockpit, which when tied down furnished complete 

 protection at night and during rainy days, while a small 

 oil stove gave warmth and served to boil coffee and for a 

 little cooking when we were compelled to it by bad 

 weather. 



Ample store of bedding and cooking utensils found 

 places in the boat, with guns, ammunition, rodf? and 



