Feb. 25, 1892.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



171 



lines. The provision supply was limited to bare neces- 

 saries, as towns were frequent for part of the route, and 

 time is required for all the various traps to find places in 

 a small boat. 



Late in the afternoon of Nov. 18, with cool, cloudy, 

 threatening weather, a start was made, the river being 

 very low. A row of two hours placed us some miles 

 below the charming little city of Austin, when the boat 

 was placed in readiness for a stormy night. The morning 

 opened with rain, which continued at intervals, the in- 

 tervals filled in with a drizzle, until late evening of the 

 21st, thoroughly testing the capabilities of our tent cover, 

 waterproofs, tempers and patience; but we worked down 

 stream at all available opportunities. 



Below tbe city of Austin the valley of the Colorado 

 River opens out into a magnificent expanse of bottom 

 land, not subject to overflow and in a fine state of cultiva- 

 tion. This is the home of the quail and rabbit, the only 

 available game in the vicinity of the city, except plover 

 in their season and jack rabbits on the higher prairie. 

 Not much interest in the jacks has been shown, however, 

 since the removal of Messrs. Sweet and Knox, of Texas 

 Sittings, with their fine pack of greyhounds. Austin, 

 however, affords as fine shooting for quail, rabbits, doves, 

 plover, and occasionally snipe, as any point in the State; 

 and turkey and deer can be found within 15 miles of the 

 town by the knowing ones. 



During the three rainy days quite a distance was made. 

 Very few ducks were seen, for it ,was generally too misty. 

 Only one sheldrake and two squirrels were killed, and 

 one sm all fish was caught — a channel catfish. 



Sunday, Nov. 22, opened with a roaring northwest wind , 

 rendering dangerous the heavy timber from falling limbs, 

 but scarcity of provisions forced a hunt, resulting in 

 three squirrels, a mallard and a spoonbill. Dropping 

 down the river a short distance, we found a sheltered 

 beach. Bedding and clothing were hung up to dry and 

 air, and preparations were made for a dinner of ducks 

 cooked exactly to the taste of Will V. 



In an article concerning wildfowl, I feel at liberty to 

 explain how they should be cooked, as well as to state 

 where they can be found, so will proclaim a secret. In 

 all notes on camping and camp cookery I have failed 

 to find any mention of the bake oven, or "Dutch oven," 

 that indispensable of the indispensables. It bakes bread 

 and pies, roasts coffee, fries meat, boils water, steams 

 pudding, serves for a dishpan, stewpan, washpan and a 

 dozen other things of necessity, and will smother-roast 

 ducks. It is nothing more than a straight-sided, flat- 

 bottomed, cast-iron vessel, with three legs, a handle, or 

 lugs, and provided with a close-fitting cover of cast-iron 

 turned up at the edges, to hold coals and hot ashes — and 

 is the same article our ancestors found indispensable at 

 the hearthstone in the days of open fireplaces. 



Nicely dress your ducks, opening on the back, and re- 

 move the breastbone: place in each a slice of fat pork 

 (if the ducks are not very fat) and a slice each of lemon 

 and onion. Draw out a moderate bed of good bright 

 coals and heat the oven on it, and when it is hot lay in 

 the ducks, flanked with the giblets and sweet potatoes. 

 The cover heated and filled with coals is placed in posi- 

 tion, and then you may take time for the coffee and 

 other concomitants. In the course of five minutes a 

 small cup of water, seasoned with salt, pepper and Wor- 

 cestershire, should be poured over the ducks and the 

 cover again carefully fitted, and the cup again filled with 

 the same basting, with the addition of a spoonful of 

 flour, and kept handy. From twenty to twenty-five 

 minutes will suffice, with the proper tire, to cook mal- 

 lards, for ducks of fine flavor should only be cooked, not 

 dried, and the juices should follow the knife. When 

 done turn in the basting and allow it to thicken, and a 

 feast is ready such as was never cooked on any stove 

 yet invented. 



The meal is a success. Will V.'s face is greasy and 

 radiant with content, and the writer has found his appe- 

 tite. The dismal days past are forgotten, and in the 

 genial sunshine a good rest is enjoyed, and hopes of 

 future duck dinners are indulged in, while the blue vapor 

 from our pipes curls gracefully upward. 



The natural features of the river have changed, and 

 instead of the open bottoms, flanked by prairie, a heavy 

 belt of timber borders the stream with few exceptions, 

 and the cultivated lands lie some distance back. 



Robins, thrushes, wrens and most of the familiar birds 

 of the North are numerous, mingling with the resident 

 feathered tribes, while the air is vocal with the singing, 

 for the thickets with their shining green leaves and twigs 

 red with berries, form a paradise for the smaller birds. 

 The shrill cry of the killdeer and coarse croak of the 

 crow, supplemented with the resounding tapping of the 

 woodpecker, increase the harmony of sound, and silence 

 only reigns an instant as a hawk with harsh cry swoops 

 down. The hawk, however, soon discovers that his 

 presence is not wanted, and retires pursued by the mock- 

 ingbirds, javs and crows who sing their victory as he re- 

 treats. Hark! There is a squirrel barking. But what 

 matters it, for we did not propose this trip to slay, only 

 to observe, and sufficient for our needs is all required. A 

 kingfisher with his clatter darts down at the edge of the 

 bar, and with a silvery fish in his bill returns to a limb 

 over our resting place. His black eyes sparkle as he 

 thrashes his prize on the limb, and he peers down on us 

 and chatters as if to attract attention. 



Monday, Nov. 23, was cold in the morning, but pi-oved 

 a. very fine day, while the scenery was exquisite. Both 

 above and below the town of Bastrop, at which we 

 stopped for needed supplies, high bluffs, covered in part 

 with pines, border the river. These bluffs, being of white 

 sand rock with iron capping, have been painted by the 

 rains in various shades ot red, yellow and brown, and 

 with their covering of sombre pines, mingled with decid- 

 uous trees now in their autumn tints, form striking ob- 

 jects of beauty. 



On tbe evening of the 23d and morning of the 24th 

 large flocks of mallards were seen, coming probably from 

 Shipp's Lake, a body of water lying on the Taylor & 

 Bastrop R. R., and a noted resort of sportsmen and "ducks. 

 We did not get any of the ducks, but I am positive that 

 they came from the lake, and, in fact, were some of the 

 same ducks we found there last winter; for they exhibi- 

 ted the same judgment and experience in regard to long- 

 range shooting. 



Will V. and I had an experience last winter at this lake 

 which explains why ducks are getting scarce in so many 

 of their usual haunts. The evening of our arrival a party 

 pf five appeared in a hack and camped near us, and shot 



next day. They used 500 shells and killed four ducks, 

 three squirrels and four or five quail. All of the ducks 

 were driven out of the lake by noon, and after the short 

 squirrel and quail hunt, the men directed their attention 

 to the poor blue peters, slaying them in myriads, and near 

 night their few remaining shells were expended on stones, 

 tin cans and other "inanimates." The ducks did not 

 return until the second day after the fusilade, and then 

 in diminished numbers. A resident near the lake said 

 that this was the common experience two or three times 

 a week, and always on Sunday, during the season. An- 

 other jocose resident when asked about the fishing in the 

 lake, remarked, "It was a right smart place for fish some 

 years ago afore the water got lead pizen'd." 



On the 26th we passed La Grange, where we secured a 

 supply of bread, etc., our larder, however, was well sup- 

 plied, for we had killed two geese and several ducks dur- 

 ing the past few days. 



During these four' days we had been constantly observ- 

 ing the out-cropping of the vast lignite beds of the Texas 

 coal formation, in some places showing 10 to 15ft. of 

 solid coal, and in others forming shoals and rapids in the 

 river, while large blocks had been drifted in piles at 

 times of high water. If the experiments now in progress 

 for the utilization of this lignite are successful, this 

 section of the State, with its vast agricultural resources 

 in cotton, corn and sugar, supplemented with inexhausti- 

 ble fuel and valuable timber, will become the richest 

 section of the entire South. 



Late Saturday evening we reached Columbus, camping 

 just below the upper town, and the next morning observed 

 vast flocks of ducks passing over the town, which is 

 situated in the neck of a great bend in the river. On 

 starting out Ave made the 15 miles around the bend, reach- 

 ing the lower town in just two and a half hours, having 

 only progressed li miles however, which is the distance 

 across the town. A proposed dam and canal across town 

 at this place would create an immense water power avail- 

 able all the year. 



Thursday, Dec. 3, we arrived at Wharton, the last 

 point touched by railroad, having been delayed by the 

 tortuous river and extremely high winds, as well as 

 spending more or less time in fishing and hunting for 

 turkeys, in neither of which pursuits, however, did we 

 have great success, for the catfish are spawning at this 

 time of the year, and will not bite, while turkeys had 

 probably retired for the holiday season. 



As a point easily reached by rail by visiting sportsmen, 

 I recommend Wharton, for game of all kinds is plenty, 

 and good accommodations can be had. We had not been 

 in town fifteen minutes before we were invited to join a 

 camping party some miles below, who were hunting 

 bear, and had sent in three during the past two days. 

 Advice as to where we could fiud deer and turkey was 

 freely given, and on the question of ducks, it was appar- 

 ent that we could not go amiss anywhere below town. 

 Quail, chicken and snipe are too little considered to be re- 

 garded as game, but if one be ambitious for a coon or 

 possum hunt the material is at hand. Any one taking 

 my advice and visiting this town I am satisfied will not 

 regret it. Wharton is reached by the N. Y. & Mex. Gulf 

 Railroad, which intersects and connects with all the 

 great railroad systems of the State. 



We have now arrived at the most interesting portion 

 of our river trip; gradually the height of the river banks 

 has diminished, while the nature of the timber has 

 changed, showing we are in the lowlands. The soil in 

 its exuberant fertility sustains an enormous growth, in 

 many places rendering walking impossible. Frequent 

 belts* of live oak impinge on the river, elm flats with 

 numerous small lagoons and bayous intervening, while 

 tbe Spanish moss trailing from the trees and the inter- 

 lacing vines proclaim the southern country. 



A few miles below Wharton we passed a lonely cabin 

 garnished with five bear skins, and numerous pelts of 

 coon and possum stretched out to dry. Then we pene- 

 trated an apparent wilderness, and at last were in the 

 winter home of the ducks. 



Ducks are everywhere, not in hundreds, but literally 

 in thousands, and the morning and evening flights were 

 a sight long to be remembered. Mallards, wood ducks 

 and teal comprise at least 99 per cent, of the number, 

 mallards largely predominating. To provide for our 

 wants (for we made no bags) the stratagems and care ex- 

 ercised on our long trip down the river were no longer 

 necessary, as at any time of day a visit to one of the 

 numerous lagoons bordering the river would result in a 

 shot. The ducks were feeding on acorns, and were in 

 prime condition, and we feasted royally, enjoying at the 

 same time the delightful temperature and the strange 

 scenery of the southern lowlands. We were in the para- 

 dise of the duck hunter, who enjoys the sport for the 

 sport's sake; but this section is one to be avoided by the 

 market-shooter, for his shipping point is too remote and 

 ice is scarce and dear. 



Deer were plenty, and every day we saw some coming 

 in to drink or playing on the bars, and once I was tempted 

 to a shot, for we carried a rifle, but I am glad to state 

 now that no harm resulted, the ball passing too high and 

 only cutting a tuft of hair from above the yearling's 

 shoulders, not a drop of blood being discernible on the 

 trail, so far as we could follow it. 



Some fifteen miles of the lower Colorado is blocked by 

 a "raft" of drifted timber, and is not navigable for any 

 craft except in high water, when a passage can be found 

 through the prairie outside the timber belt; but the water 

 being very low, we hired a wagon and team and made the 

 portage of some twenty miles, going direct to Mutagorda 

 and salt water. 



The direct distance from Austin to Mutagorda is about 

 165 miles, and our route by the tortuous river was probablv 

 three times that distance; it was estimated at fully 450 

 miles, from the record of time kept on the trip. 



Although the charms of a salt-water trip were ahead, 

 it was with regreat that we left the river with its game, 

 its novel scenery, its sheltering timber, glorious days, 

 and not least the evening camp-fires. 



The day enjoyed to its utmost is closing, and rosy 

 bands of light radiating from a gorgeous sunset span the 

 heavens, while under the heavy masses of timber the 

 gloom of night is stalking and the chill of evening creeps 

 over the now quiet river. Then for an ample fire of drift 

 wood, much of it cedar and juniper from the upper 

 country. The spicy aromatic smoke circles through an 

 enormous live oak or elm tree, with its pendant moss 

 swaying in the hot eddying currents of air, while the 

 glossy green leaves of the surroivnding shmbbery seem 



gilded and bordered with pendant gems, as the ruddy 

 flames burst forth in fantastic shapes. 



Sometimes the mellow sound of a distant horn could 

 be beard, and faint calls of Flora, Grip, or other dog 

 names, as some negro hunted his favorite game, would 

 reach our ears, followed by the deep music of some old 

 hound, now far, then nearer, and supplemented at times 

 by a bark and yelp as some cur of low degree joined in 

 the chase. 



Sometimes the cries would grow fast and furious for a 

 few minutes, then subside into silence, followed by the 

 deep baying of the hound, until the encouraging shout 

 of the approaching hunter was heard. 



Possibly some vigorous blows of an axe would bo 

 heard, followed by a resounding crash, then a general 

 melee of barks, yelps and shouts. That victorious, 

 clarion, musical shout of the Texas darky — unattainable 

 by the white man — quelling the clamor of the dogs, and 

 quenching through sheer envy the owls who have for 

 some time been hooting their evening congratulations. 



Austin, Texas. J. O. B. 



THE WATERS OF TWO-OCEAN PASS. 



Editor Forest and Stream; 



List year while traveling in. Wyoming south of the 

 Yellowstone Park, I was so much struck with the pecu- 

 liarities of Two-Ocean Pass that I am determined to write 

 you a brief memorandum about it. I do not know 

 whether these peculiarities have ever been publicly men- 

 tioned before or not. 



Two-Ocean Pass is a very wild and lonely valley, walled 

 in on either hand by steep terraced mountains. The foot- 

 hills and lower flanks of these mountains are covered with 

 dense evergreen forests, above which jut the naked gray 

 peaks, now lying in the rifts on their northern faces 

 The forest extends on either side down to the level ground 

 of the valley ; but the bottom of the valley is wet and open, 

 being covered with a succession of meadows and of low 

 willow thickets. 



The continental divide runs at right angles across the 

 valley near its middle point, and from the point where 

 the divide crosses, two streams flow down the valley; one, 

 known as Atlantic Creek, running east to join the Yellow- 

 stone, and the other, known as Pacific Creek, running 

 west to join the Snake. A considerable brook flows down 



Mountains TOrnc North "\ 



M ' ot/NTAt\s to the South 



THE WATERS OF TWO-OCEAN PASS. 



the southern mountain wall into this valley, and another 

 flows down the northern mountain wall just opposite 

 the first. Each of these two creeks bifurcates before 

 reaching the open valley proper, and each sends down 

 one fork on one side of the divide and one fork on the other. 

 The right-hand fork of the brook, coming down the 

 mountains to the northward, joins with the left-hand 

 fork of the brook coming down the mountains lying 

 southward, to form Pacific Creek, while the other 

 two forks join to form Atlantic Creek. Thus the conti- 

 nental divide at this point really follows the middle of 

 these two mountain brooks; and when their waters divide 

 some of the water from each stream goes through the 

 Yellowstone and Missouri to the Atlantic, and some 

 through the Snake and the Columbia to the Pacific Ocean , 

 so that in times of high water it would be perfectly pos- 

 sible for a fair sized fish to swim from the headwaters 

 of the Pacific Ocean drainage system to the headwaters 

 of the Atlantic drainage basin. As a matter of fact, 

 I have no doubt that the small trout, of which there are 

 numbers in Two-Ocean Pass, often do thus shift quarters. 

 The forks of these two mountain brooks run down into 

 the broad flat in the middle of Two Ocean Pass. This 

 flat is very marshy, and in times of flood must be an im- 

 passable morass, with Pacific and Atlantic creeks flowing 

 out of the two ends. Moreover the channels of the two 

 brooks are continually shifting. Each sometimes sends 

 almost all its water down one fork into Pacific Creek, and 

 sometimes sends almost all of it down another fork into 

 Atlantic Creek; and there are a dozen old channels of each, 

 both on the mountain side and in the morass, or flat, wet 

 prairie at the summit of the pass proper. In consequence 

 there are doubtless seasons when the peculiar conditions 

 mentioned above do not obtain, at least to the extent that 

 they did last year. I inclose a rough diagram merely to 

 explain my meaning. Theodore Roosevelt. 



Washington, D. C„ Feb. 19. 



Biennial Spawning of Salmon. — The question of how 

 often salmon spawn has been tested and set at rest bv Dr. 

 W. M. Haines, of Ellsworth, Me. In the fall of 1890 he 

 had fifty salmon weighed and tagged at Green Lake. 

 These were breeding salmon that had come up a brook 

 tributary to the lake to breed. The fall of 1891 none of 

 the salmon tagged came to the spawning beds to breed, 

 though three of them had been caught in the lake below, 

 neither of which showed any signs of breeding. Dr. 

 Haines is thus convinced that landlocked salmon, at 

 least, do not breed every year. The coming fall he will 

 doubtless anxiously watch for his tagged salmon at the 

 spawning beds. It is the opinion of both Commissioners 

 Stanley and Stillwell, I believe, that salmon breed only 

 every second year. — Special. [The same thing was done 

 years ago by Chas. G. Atkins, whose paper on the sub- 

 ject is to be found in Trans. American Fisheries Soc. , 

 1885, pp. 89-94.] " 



