Feb, 35, 1899,] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



177 



Now, there are plenty of good fellows in the most 

 rural districts, and I have many good friends among 

 them, some of whom I hope to meet again another sum- 

 mer, but as in all semi-civilized frontier countries, there 

 is in the backwoods of New England an element as un- 

 tamed and brutal as in any of the new counties of the 

 West and Southwest, and it is these fellows who mur- 

 dered the game warden and tore down the weirs at 

 Sebago Lake in Maine, and who attempted to destroy the 

 hatchery and rob the ponds at Sunapee Lake in New 

 Hampshire, who are continually poaching on the lakes of 

 northern New York. 



Their antipathy to the game laws may be inherited 

 from ancestors who were really oppressed by the severe 

 forest laws of the feudal ages, where all game was re- 

 served for the King and his nobles, and is not likely to be 

 mollified by the establishment of extensive club preserves: 

 but I fear it will take some time to teach them that such 

 opposition should not be extended to laws made by the 

 people, and for the benefit of the whole people, of which 

 they are but an integral part. 



Still, while they take the attitude they do, I have no 

 sympathy for them, with all due respect to Miss Hardy. 



VonW. 



Chablesxown, iNew Hampshire. 



WHERE ARE THE QUAIL? 



WHAT has become of the quail (or partridge) in Rhode 

 Island? This has frequently been asked here this 



year. 



For ten years past I have been out with dog and gun in 

 different parts of the State. We reside in the country a 

 few miles from the city of Providence, on a peninsula 

 about three miles long by one broad, which is owned by a 

 few individuals who have agreed to protect game birds 

 as far as possible. Several years ago I procured a num- 

 ber of live quail from Virginia, kept them with success 

 through the winter, and in April turned them out on the 

 end of the "Point." They, with the other quail that 

 were there, prospered. Better quarters they could not 

 wish for, and they were left undisturbed and guarded 

 for two years. Excellent shooting was the result. In 

 one afternoon we shot twenty-two from five coveys, 

 leaving half of each covey to breed from, To day it is 

 almost impossible to find a single quail on the ''Point/' 

 Why is this? Simply because the game laws of the State 

 are a dead letter. 



I was at a large dinner given at a leading hotel in 

 Providence, at which over 200 quail were served. This 

 was in February. The game dealers in Providence sell 

 game openly all the winter. There are snares laid all the 

 year round in all places where the birds are. We have 

 destroyed a number of them. Being almost invisible 

 they are hard to detect. Most snares are made with a 

 horsehair formed in a slipnoose and placed near a pond 

 or. brook that quail frequent; a few grains of corn or oats 

 are scattered near. Hunters wait for a snow storm, and 

 when the quail are huddled together for warmth and 

 protection they sneak up and take a "pot" shot at them. 

 Lately I have heard of sixteen being killed at one shot — 

 this out of season. The law reads that "'having quail in 

 possession is prima-facie evidence to convict." I have, 

 been unable to find any case in the State where a fine was 

 imposed and collected for illegal sale or killing. We have 

 game wardens and a Game Protective Associatiou , but 

 they must be asleep. 



Perhaps some of the readers of Forest and Stream 

 fan suggest some provision for the preservation of game 

 birds throughout the State, before they have been entirely 

 exterminated. I have heard that a movement is on foot 

 to have a large game preserve, the farmers themselves to 

 act as wardens, and to be paid to protect game birds, each 

 member to pay to the farmer over whose ground he 

 shoots a certain sum for each bird killed by him. This 

 rumor seems to have some foundation, but is the plan 

 feasible? Would the farmers agree to it, and if they did, 

 could we rely on their carrying out their agreement, 

 knowing, as we do, that every farmer has his own farm 

 to look after? Old Subscriber, 



Feb. 15, 1893. ; 



Jack Babbits Galore.— Young O'Connell tells me 

 that a few yeatS ago when in California looking up sand 

 lots they visited the new town site of St. James, near 

 Los Angeles. They found at St. James but one building 

 and an electric light. At night this light attracted jack 

 rabbits by the scores, and they were easily killed with a 

 club. Many were captured in this way.— Bart. 



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

 Rods and Fly-Tackle. By H. P. Wells. Price $H.50. Fly- 

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

 Price 01.50. American Angler's Book. By Tliad. Norris. 

 Price $5.50, 



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

 Territories and British Provinces are given in the Booli o1 

 the 6-ame Lavjs. 



TROUTING IN THE CASCADES.-X1. 



THE MOLALLA COUNTRY. 



WE had determined to spend the 7fch around camp, 

 resting up and preparing for a hard trip to the 

 unknown regions of the North Fork. Early in the morn- 

 ing, Uncle Billy Vaughn (the first white settler of the 

 Molalla Country) rode up and throwing bis rein over a 

 bush, greeted me cordially, and after an introduction to 

 the other members of the camp, sat down on a log for a 

 chat, Having heard that I was camped near Hungates 

 ford he had sought me out, and I was glad enough to see 

 ihim, for 1 knew he could give me some information about 

 the regions we were about to visit. "So you are going to 

 the North Fork of the Moolalla, are you?" said he, strongly 

 ;accenting the "Moo" (as he always does), "well," he 

 ;added, "you will find it terribly rough, and you must 

 keep your senses well about you, for you will find that 

 the upper Moolalla is no slouch," He said we could fol- 

 low the trail all right to the forks, but after that we 

 would have to rely on our own judgments and the dim 

 and uncertain deer paths. He thought that the best plan, 

 after reaching the forks, would be to go directly up on 



the divide between the North and South forks, and then 

 down to the river, for from the mountain we could get 

 the lay of the country, and besides, he was not sure that 

 we could follow the North Fork up from its mouth. 



As he mounted bis horse he intimated that we might 

 run aci'oss Indian Henry, who was somewhere back in 

 the mountains, who could give us fuller information, and 

 again admonishing us to be careful as "the North Fork 

 was no slouch," he touched his horse and rode away. 



We shouldered our guns, whistled up the dogs and went 

 out into the crab-apple bottom for birds. Harry and 

 George fairly out-did themselves, as covey after covey 

 whirred out from under their very feet. 



"See, from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, 

 And mounts exulting on triumphant wings: 

 Short, is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, 

 Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground." 



The whole camp went over to the Molalla in the after- 

 noon, and we had a jolly time fishing and romping like 

 a lot of school children turned loose. When anybody 

 hooked a big fish all hands came to watch the sport and 

 help to land him. Everything went pleasantly until 

 Billy undertook to cross a rapid, and get over to the shady 

 side of a deep pool that nestled under the bluff invitingly. 

 "When at about mid stream, the loose round stones melted 

 out from under him, and in an instant away went Billy, 

 rod, creel and all, floundering down the rapid and plump 

 into the deep pool, Everybody else roared, but Billy 

 was wet and mad, and besides his creel had opened and 

 his fish went sailing off down the Molalla. A few of the 

 fish revived and disappeared, but Billy and the balance of 

 the fish were properly rescued. The more we laughed 

 the madder was Billy, and he finally went dripping and 

 disgruntled to camp. Of course this little incident placed 

 Billy hors-de-combat for at least three days; in fact, I am 

 not 'sure that he ever entirely recovered, for he gets just 

 about as mad when the incident is mentioned to-day as 

 he was at the time it occurred. 



By daylight next morning we were chatting along 

 up the trail that led to the Forks. The dogs were 

 wrestling around in the brush nosing out rabbits and 

 sleepy pheasants, but as we were unarmed, except with 

 our hunting knives and hatchets, we kept straight on our 

 way. We carried, besides blankets, wire broiler, salt, 

 pepper, baked beans, bread and coffee-pot, and felt pre- 

 pared for almost any emergency, except encounters with 

 cougars and bears. This was to be a red-letter trip, and 

 we were all on our mettle. Seven o'clock found us sitting 

 on a log at the Forks. Either arm seemed about as large 

 as the main stream, but the North Fork was more im- 

 petuous and noisy. The South Fork evidently carried 

 more water, but the North Fork was certainly large 

 enough. 



We were right in the monntains. On every hand bald 

 buttes and narrow canons, tilted strata and gnarled pines; 

 and we felt that Uncle Billy Vaughn was correct in his 

 estimate of the country, and that "the Upper Molalla 

 was no slouch." With some difficulty we crossed the 

 North Fork, and found the dim trail made by the deer in 

 their wanderings between the grassy parks of the moun- 

 tains and the sparkling waters of the Molalla. On and 

 up we climbed to the divide that overlooked the junction 

 of the two streams and the verdant valley of the Lower 

 Molalla. We sat down to rest and survey the country. 

 The view alone from that airy height was worth ail the 

 toil of the trip. Off to the east, mountains rising upon 

 mountains until lost in their own cumulus splendor, To 

 the south, the weird chasms and lonely canons that 

 cradled the fretful waters of the unexplored South Fork, 

 To the west, the dim outline of the far-away Coast Range, 

 To the north, the rugged waters of the lower North Fork, 

 and further on the valley, half hidden in the haze of the 

 young Indian summer. It required a full hour to work 

 down the mountains to the seething waters of the North 

 Fork, and no doubt we all asked ourselves the question, 

 How in the world we were ever to get back? But here 

 we were at the sputtering, fuming torrent, and we soon 

 forgot all the tribulations of the long, tiresome tramp. 

 It was the most reckless stream I ever saw. Nature 

 seemed to have gone mad and torn her very hair. There 

 being three of usi, we were company for each other and 

 the wild, fantastic solitudes were endurable. Nature her- 

 self tendered little consolation to sensitive nerves. 



What a lovely rapid! On and up into the very bosom 

 of mystery, and Harry and George went to work at once 

 among its swirls and solemn boulders, while I, in- 

 stinctively, took to the still pool below. I approached with 

 that curious anxiety peculiar to the angler about to test 

 the character of unknown waters. I was not disap- 

 pointed. A Hash, a gleam of spotted light, and away he 

 went, my line paying out with lightning rapidity and my 

 reel buzzing as if it would burst. A yell above, and I 

 turned to see George standing like a monument on a 

 boulder, bracing himself against the tugs of a giant that 

 was trying to get down to the pool, while Harry, still on 

 above, was fighting with two big fellows, one of whom 

 was already in the landing net. 



We three! What a picture for the irrepressible Kodak! 

 One, two, three and three times three answered to my 

 casts into the still pool, and then I joined the boys among 

 the rocks of the rapid. We fished as if the reputation of 

 the Molalla depended upon the result of that day's work, 

 ignoring the demands of our hungry stomachs and utterly 

 oblivious of the weird surroundings. The boys kept 

 pretty well ahead until, on turning a bend of the stream 

 I observed them perched like two crows on a log that 

 projected out below a gloomy, lean looking canon out of 

 which the stream jumped with an ominous roar. 



"Ah, my boys," I exclaimed, "you are weakening a 

 little, are you?" "Well," said George, "that may be one 

 name for' it. but it is my opinion that we are all up a 

 stump." "I'll bet my dog against »yours," said Han-y, 

 "that you don't fish above here to-day." Sure enough, the 

 stream at this point was bounding out through a crevasse, 

 the walls of which were so perpendicular that they leaned 

 a little in, and so high that we could only see a faint 

 streak of the blue sky above. Another victim for the 

 Kodak, thought I, as I sat down on the log and stared at 

 the obnoxious hole in the wall. 



Nature had handicapped us and my ambition to see the 

 falls which Frank had seeen when last in the mountains 

 was not to be gratified this trip. There was some satis- 

 faction, however, in the fact that it was about time to 

 camp for the night. While the boys started a fire and 

 put the coffee on I took advantage of the opportunity to 

 investigate this freak of nature. It seemed to be a crack 



or split through the solid rock, with the ragged walls and 

 jagged points worn smooth by the rushing waters. Tying 

 a heavy" lead to my line I sounded the narrow current 

 and found that it was twenty-five feet deep and so clear 

 that we could see the glistening sands at the bottom 

 where the surface was not too much vexed by swirls and 

 foam. I could see up through the crevasse about fifty 

 yards, during which distance the stream seemed to fall 

 twenty-five or thirty feet. A good, hasty supper of 

 broiled trout, bread, baked beans and coffee made us feel 

 rather satisfied with both ourselves and provoking na- 

 ture, and we lit our pipes and laid down on our blankets 

 between the echoing walls to rest and rehearse the events 

 of the day. 



Although tired enough, there was little sleep in store 

 for any of us. The cold draft of air that poured persist- 

 ently down through the crevasse kept us rustling wood 

 for our fire most of the night, and then, too, the hollow 

 echoes of the narrow canon troubled our sleep with de- 

 moniacal laughter and calls, 



Wet, cold and blear-eyed we hovered over our morn- 

 ing coffee, while the shivering dogs looked at us re- 

 proachfully for getting them into such a scrape. 



With sore muscles, strained tendons and cracked bones 

 we started on the return march well satisfied not to try 

 to catch all the fish in the country, as Billy expressed it. 



Appreciating the tiresome trip ahead of us, I doubt if 

 there was one of us that did not in his heart envy cir- 

 cumspect and prudent Billy in his comfortable quarters 

 in camp. But anglers, as a rule, are unreasonable crea- 

 tures; always seeking after difficulties, only to be half 

 provoked at themselves for finding them. 



The trout must have heard about the new flies of the 

 North Fork, for the water seemed to fairly swarm with 

 great big fellows, anxiously awaiting their turn. 



Of course we had kept no small fish, and now decided 

 to throw back all but the very largest. We found that, 

 as Uncle Billy Vaughn had anticipated, we could not fol- 

 low the North Fork to its mouth, and so we were forced 

 to climb the mountain again and t find the deer trail that 

 led down to the forks. 



In this country the rank ferns, sal-lal brush and vines 

 render the mountain sides next to impassable, so that one 

 must stick to the creeks or follow the ridges if they ex- 

 pect to make any progress through the mountains. It 

 was nearly night when we again rested on the crest of 

 the mountain from which we had the day before surveyed 

 the country. 



It was a tired crowd that sat there that August even- 

 ing looking wistfully down the Molalla toward camp, 

 which was six miles away. Thank goodness ic was all 

 down hill; and after a good rest we trudged along, but 

 rather more solemnly and silently than when we came 

 up. It was a long, tiresome trip, but about 10 o'clock 

 P. M. we staggered into camp, hungry,»weary, foot-sore 

 and heavy-laden. 



My wife, Billy, Mr. and Mrs. Fyrer were all cut wait- 

 ing for us, and their anxious interest in our physical 

 welfare and comfort was manifest in the savory burden of 

 the groaning table— for which we felt exceedingly grate- 

 ful — and to which we at once proceeded to pay our most 

 hearty and profound respects. S. H, Greene, 



Portland, Or egon. 



ANGLING NOTES, 



AT this season of the year the anglers who are in the 

 habit of snelling their own hooks and making their 

 own flies and leaders are looking into the gut question, 

 The manufacture of silk worm gut has already been fully 

 described in an illustrated article written by Charles F. 

 Imbrie, and published in Forest and Stream June 5, 

 1890. But what interests amateurs most is the question 

 of strength and the sizes best adapted to the different 

 kinds of fishing. 



The first thing that anglers will notice when they buy 

 gut this year is that the price has advanced materially. 

 This comes from the fact that for two years the crop in 

 Spain has been short. The sizes usually sold by dealers, 

 the price and the strain in pounds an average strand will 

 stand, are as follows: 



"Resmlar" or trout size. ...... . price per 100, .60; will stand 3 lbs, 



"Padron 2d" or heavy trout " " " ,75; " si 3^s " 



"Pad ron 1st" or black bass — . " " " .90; " " £ " 

 "Marana 3d," heavy black bass " " "1.50; " " ffi " ' 

 "Marana 1st," salmon size. . . . " " "4.00; " " 6 " 

 "Imperial," extra heavy. " " "9.00; " " 8 to 10 " 



The average length of good gut in a strand is about 

 llin. The gut should be "pearly" white and round, not 

 yellow or cream color, as some writers state. 



The strength of gut after being'made up into leaders is 

 a very different matter. Anglers often find that when a 

 leader is made from gut that tested, say, 41bs., it will 

 break at a strain of perhaps 21bs. This may be caused by 

 one of two things— either there was an imperfect strand 

 in the leader or the gut was knotted before being perfectly 

 soaked. If it breaks in the knot, the latter is of course 

 the reason. A leader is never as strong as the original 

 gut, owing to the fact that even the most carefully tied 

 knot weakens the gut. 



Fishermen differ very much as to the proper color of 

 leaders and snells. Some insist that the gut should be 

 dyed black, others that it should be left white; but a 

 medium course is safest, and a neutral or mist color is 

 generally preferred by experienced anglers, 



The size of gut is "the most important matter to take 

 into consideration, When the streams are clear and shal- 

 low, flowing gently over a smooth bottom, the gut can- 

 not be too thin and light. In over- fished waters trout are 

 very suspicious, and are more afraid of the shadow cast 

 by the leader than of the leader itself. It is therefore 

 necessary to use the finest of fine gut if one wishes to 

 meet with success. But on wild and rarely-fished waters 

 or at night it is a waste of time and material to use them, 

 and stouter leaders will answer even better. 



Gut when dry cannot be tied into a knot, as it is very 

 brittle ; it should be well soaked first, and a dry leader 

 should never be used. Good gut, if kept in a. cool, dry 

 place, will hold its strength for several years. 



Scarlet-Ibis. 



TffE POPUXAEiTT of domestic: cigars is growing every day, and 

 it is believed that it will continue to increase. It is not so very 

 many years since people thought that a "weed" manufactured in 

 this country must necessarily be a bad one, but nowadays as many 

 domestics are consumed as imported. This is probably due to 

 more careful and bet ter manufacture, and perhaps in a measure 



I to improved methods of tobacco cultivation. At all events the 

 domestic cigar is to-day extensively used, and it is noticed that at 

 many of the clubs the brands manufactured by D. Hirsch & Co. 

 are extremely popular and are preferred by many smokers to those 

 which are imported.— Adv. 



