326 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 7, 1892, 



WITH FLY-ROD AND LANDING-NET. 



AS Jack reclines in bis comfortable cbair, witb feet 

 on the fender, before a blazing hearth, drawing 

 consolation from the pet meerschaum, which is bis con- 

 stant companion, his observations concerning a trip to 

 the lake on the morrow, for which all necessary arrange- 

 ments have been completed, recall most vividly the cir- 

 cumstances connected with our visit last year to this 

 favorite angling resort. 



Monday morning found us on the way at 4 o'clock; and 

 with the eastern horizon beaming and sparkling in its 

 ripening wealth of crimson and gold, inhaling the brac- 

 ing atmosphere with that keen sense of exhileration ever 

 imparted to the early starter, prospecting on the outlook 

 for a day suited to our needs, doubt if you can, kind 

 reader, that we felt like kings indeed. 



At 5:20 o'clock we had stabled our horses, transferred 

 our well-filled hampers to the pine grove bordering the 

 shore and prepared to erect our tent, for we had planned 

 for a stay of five or six days, when my attention was at- 

 tracted by an exclamation from Jack, who had preceded 

 me to the beach, near the mouth of the creek where our 

 canoe was moored. 



Hastily covering the intervening distance to the water's 

 edge I found my companion with eyes intently fixed 

 upon an ever-widening circle upon the lake's mirror-like 

 surface, which proclaimed the presence of the king of 

 fish, "a laker." Who can but feel anxious to test the 

 tempting lure and pit human skill against the crafty cun- 

 ning of some finny monarch of the lake or pool, when in 

 the early morning hour he beholds breaking the water 

 and glistening in the sparkling rays of the rising sun, 

 that pink and golden four-pounder? Surely no true 

 disciple of the oft-quoted gentle Izaak. 



Returning to the camp for rod and landing-net, I 

 hastily donned my coat and hat, which contained my 

 store of lines, flies and necessary paraphernalia, which 

 had been so carefully tested and arranged before the 

 start, and when I again reached the shore Jack had 

 launched the canoe, and directing me to take the cast, he 

 carefully paddled me in the direction of the tell-tale 

 break we had previously observed. Carefully jointing 

 my Leonard and attaching a fine waterproof taper line, 

 a very light-running reel, to which I connected the finest 

 mist-colored leaders we had with a tempting fly, I was 

 soon ready to try conclusions with his lordship. "When 

 in the vicinity of the coveted spot I made my first cast, 

 let me state that my heart beat more quickly, for I real- 

 ized that doubtless these dark, cool waters yet covered 

 the object of our impromptu attempt to make a cap- 

 ture. 



Again the fly was carefully cast, once again, and a rise 

 and a strike. 



Whir-r-r, sings the reel, as down, down he goes, then 

 out again with a shake and splash that spoke volumes, 

 for well we knew that he was well hooked; and Jack ex- 

 claimed, "Handle him carefully, Doc, he is a dandy and 

 we must capture him." As he sounds deep borne and 

 the pliant rod yields, the reel sings that tune so dear to 

 the sportsman's ear. Many were the thoughts of former 

 battles and pretty little episodes of my experience that 

 had transpired so near this very spot. ' 



Then follows the conquest, so familiar, give and take, 

 give and take, for so long a time that it does seem that 

 each struggle must be his last, and the aching wrist pro- 

 claims that the capture is a, specimen worthy of our steel. 

 When at last, after more than thirty minutes of darting, 

 whirling, diving struggle, we think it safe to reel in our 

 prize, and when, after sundry feeble efforts and by-plays 

 on the part of his lordship to evade the ready net, skil- 

 fully manipulated by Jack, he is in the canoe and our 

 struggle is ended, then it was that criticisms on the 

 part of Jack, and the usual comments were succeeded by 

 that remark that is consolation in itself, "Never mind, 

 we have him." 



Reaching camp, the pocket scale registers 4lbs. 3oz., as 

 a good beginning, and as our stomachs manifested a dis- 

 position to rebel at further inattention, our next duty was 

 plainly that of providing for the inner man. Jack is a 

 superb culinary artist, as the steaming potatoes, crisp 

 trout and aromatic coffee served to testify. With appe- 

 tites whetted by the vigorous morning's exercise, let it be 

 said that we both did justice to the repast which was 

 Boon spread. 



After satisfying our hunger, during which time the 

 conversation had naturally drifted into the subject upon 

 which but few anglers agree perfectly, that of flies and 

 fly-fishing, my companion produced his "Levison" fly- 

 book, which is not excelled, and said, '"Doc, my ex- 



Eerience is that for May trouting the flies that I have 

 ere are by far the best," and he showed me a fine line of 

 flies of the varieties known as fern, iron-blue, hawthorn, 

 sky-blue, yellow-dun, yellow-may, turkey-brown, and in 

 addition he said, "I always have in my fly-book Mon- 

 treal, professor,red-ibis, grizzly-king, queen-of-the-waters, 

 white-miller, etc., and in most cases find that some of 

 these varieties are suited to the needs of the occasion." 



After breakfast and cooking utensils were disposed of 

 we arranged our camp for convenience and comfort. 

 The time thus employed engaged our attention until past 

 11 o'clock, and after a hearty repast we took our cus- 

 tomary after-dinner siesta, preceded while smoking by 

 reading copies of Forest and Stream. 



At 2:30 Jack awoke me saying, "Come, Doc, get ready 

 for the fun ; the loons are trying to raise a storm and we 

 must try the fly." On the way to our favorite casting 

 ground Jack drew a spinner, capturing a little beauty 

 weighing fibs., and within twenty minutes after reaching 

 "the ledge" Jack had booked a beauty, which gave him a 

 smart battle, and as a result of the afternoon's sport we 

 had four elegant specimens of the finny tribe, weighing 

 fibs., lib. 7oz., lib. 18oz. and 31bs. loz. Dark, threaten- 

 ing storm clouds appeared in the western horizon, veil- 

 ing the setting sun and flawy gusts of wind admonished 

 us that duties urgently beckoned us campward, and 

 thither we directed our frail craft's course, where every- 

 thing was made snug for the stoim king's approach. The 

 wind, which had risen so suddenly, had as suddenly sub- 

 sided, and the impressive silence was only broken by the 

 distant reverberations of thunder, which* ever increased 

 in volume and constancy. Truly this was a magnificent 

 sight. Zig-zag flashes that seemed in their intensity to 

 fill the_ atmosphere with a, dry, crackling sound were 

 almost incessant, and with each flash heaven's artillery 

 boomed and thundered discordantly. Soon the first fit- 

 ful gusts were upon us, that well known forerunner of 

 the gale so sure to follow, and once more looking to the 



stays of our tent and making everything secure, Jack 

 suggested seeking cover, and agreeable to the suggestion 

 we "turned in." 



Our pine and balsam shakedowns were couches to 

 which insomnia never pays court, and while the roaring, 

 howling gale tears across the fleecy waters, through the 

 dense pines surrounding us, and on toward the east, we 

 are comfortably planning for an early start to a neighbor- 

 ing stream which ought to afford us prime remuneration 

 for an early jaunt. 



At half -past three next morning our fire was rekindled, 

 and soon the steaming, coffee savory trout and eg£B were 

 partaken of with keen relish, and we were off for the 

 creek. Reaching the stream as the rising sun gave token 

 of approaching day, promising to soon dispel the misty, 

 shroud like fog which still enveloped the dripping earth, 

 we drew lots to see whose should be the fly to tempt the 

 denizens of the first and favorite pool near the creek's 

 outlet. Fortune favored me, and Jack accepted it with 

 sportsmanlike grace. Examining most minutely every 

 section of my rod. which was a new OJft. Chubb fly-rod 

 weighing about 6oz., and carefully testing line, reel, 

 leader and fly, I cautiously approached the pool. Then 

 it was that my thoughts turned to him who has never 

 yet crept stealthily to the edge of some deep, dark pool, 

 and cast his fly upon its glossy surface; who has never 

 heard the swish of the tail nor seen the spotted sides of 

 a speckled trout as he broke the silent waters in his leap 

 and rush for the fly. To such I would say, quit for a 

 while the bank, the office of the store, get out into God's 

 sunshine by the side of a running stream, among the 

 birds and odors of the woods, and breathe the pure air of 

 heaven, a tonic once tasted never forgotten. 



With a delicate, pliant curve of the rod I succeeded, 

 by my first cast, in laying a white-miller on a No. 10 hook 

 just above a huge log which had for years been the favor- 

 ite haunt of each successive tenant of this pool, and, true 

 to anticapation, 1 was greeted with a wolfish rise. After 

 some seven or eight minutes of gallant fighting my 

 quarry yielded and. I landed a two-pounder. From the 

 pool I succeeded in taking four as handsome specimens 

 as one could wish, and upon our return later in the day 

 Jake secured a strike and, though fairly hooked, lost a 

 handsome fish by his leader parting. 



This, I think, was one of the days that will ever linger 

 in my memory, bright reminder of the true sport on the 

 stream. Our creels were filled and we were ravenously 

 hungry, so after seeking camp and doing sportsmanlike 

 justice to a hearty meal we were content to rest for the 

 day. During the balance of our stay our fortune was 

 good, and when we broke camp Friday atternoon and re- 

 turned to civilization, each carried in his veBt a feeling 

 of content to be had only by an outing with rod and net. 



Byron. 



THROUGH TO TWITCH ELL.— III. 



[Concluded from page 300.} 



THERE are fourteen smaller lakes so near Twitchell 

 that a party can go and fish one of them, returning 

 to camp on the larger lake the same day; and mind you, 

 there is as good fishing in them as anywhere in the State. 

 Now, if this same Twitchell isn't pretty near headquart- 

 ers to a fishing paradise, I'd like to know why. Tnis is 

 saying nothing of the hunting, which is of the best; and 

 scenery! why it can make 'em all hustle. Pardon this 

 digression, but it's so, every word of it, even if not poeti- 

 cally told. 



The carry led up a hill, then along the side of another, 

 then down: and we were within a few rods of the lake 

 before we saw it. What a gem it was, and what a beau- 

 tiful setting. It seems presumptuous to attempt a descrip- 

 tion. Surrounded by mountains clad with their growth 

 of virgin forest, beautiful in springtime, what must it be 

 in autumn? 



The lake itself , irregular in outline, is a little longer 

 than it is wide, but not much; near the center is an 

 island; and the only thing that tends to show that man 

 has been here is the condition of this. A few trees, but 

 mostly charred stubs, rise from it. That tells the story. 

 It has been burned over by some knave or fool, we know 

 not which. Nature is doing her best to repair the dam- 

 age, and now even this disfigurement is hidden by the 

 beauty that surrounds it. 



We gazed at the lake with rapturous eyes for some 

 moments, silently drinking in its beauty, when "High" 

 turned to us and remarked, "Did you ever see one that 

 could beat it?" We answered together, "No;" and he left 

 us to get the boat, which was secreted near by. While he 

 was after the boat we limbered up our rods, or rather I 

 did, for Jim's cheap affair — he called it worse names than 

 that before the day was spent — refused to be limbered. 

 This was remedied by cutting off the bare wooden dowels 

 which had swelled from getting wet. "High" ap- 

 peared as the rod was finally jointed with the boat on 

 his shoulders. He put it down on the beach, and taking 

 his axe cut some boughs for us to sit on, as the boat was 

 lacking in the matter of seats. 



We laid a straightaway course until we passed a point 

 on our right, around which we turned and skirted the 

 shore until we came to another point, without getting a 

 strike; but just as the boat was rounding this second 

 point I felt a tug at the hook, some 60 ft. away, "High" 

 instructed us to let out about that much line, as the water 

 was so clear one could see bottom where it was 80ft. deep. 

 From the struggle I judged I had hooked a pound trout, 

 but when after a gamy fight between the fish and the rod, 

 with me coaching the rod and the trout doing his own 

 coaching in a way that showed him to be a graduate of 

 the trout school, he was steered near "High," who laid 

 the paddle across his knees and, loosely holding the fine 

 near the boat with his left hand and sliding his right 

 down the line until near the trout's head, deftly lifted him 

 into the boat and said, "Half-pounder." 



I caught two more, about the same size, before Jim had 

 a strike, then he began to catch about one to my two, 

 until I was for ahea d on the grand total. Just before we 

 stopped for lunch Jim added to his catch a trout that he 

 and I thought would go 21bs., but "High" simply said, 

 "Pound an' a half," which settled it. 



We ran into a, beautiful shady cove, and landed; and 

 while Jim and I built a fire, "High" dressed some of the 

 smaller trout. Then he cut five green forked sticks and 

 impaled five trout. These we broiled over the fire by 

 sticking the stick into the ground so the trout was over 

 the coals. It has been my luck to dine at several "tony" 

 places, but I never enjoyed a dinner more than I did that 

 one, simple as it was — broiled trout, cold slap-jacks 



buttered and a chunk of maple sugar. After this came 

 the proverbial smoke, while enjoying which we reviewed 

 the morning's sport, Jim and i voting unanimously that 

 we had never had better. 



"High'" indulged in some reminiscences wherein he 

 related having been at this lake many times years ago, 

 when 3 and 41b. trout were quite common; and how his 

 boy fishing through the ice one winter caught a brook 

 trout weighing Sflbs. This lake is almost an angler's 

 paradise now, what must it have been then? 



The pipes were burned out, and after throwing the 

 embers of the fire into the lake and throwing some water 

 on the place where the fire had been, we got aboard 

 again. 



I have omitted to state that we lost about half the fish 

 we hooked. This, while it does not speak well for our 

 skill, allowed us much sport which we would not have 

 had, unless we had cared to become i: fish hogs." The 

 after-dinner sport opened up merrily, and after we had 

 caught one each, I hooked a snap:. This was got rid of, 

 and as soon as the line had again been run out I felt my 

 hook catch on something, the reel began to whirl, and as 

 there was no commotion I concluded it was another snag 

 and told High to stop paddling. Then I tried to shake 

 the hook loose by moving the rod. As soon as I did this 

 the hook seemed to free itself, and I began to reel in to 

 see if the bait was still on. We were using fins and 

 eyes now, our supply of worms being exhausted. I had 

 reeled up 5 or 6yds. when there was trouble again at the 

 hook end, but this time of another kind, and as I reeled 

 this line taut a magnificent trout leaped from the water 

 about 50ft, from the boat shaking his head savagely in 

 his attempts to loosen the cruel barb, I shut my teeth and 

 vowed I would have that fellow or break something in 

 the attempt. 



It was a great battle, one I should like to engage in 

 again, although my wrist ached so I had to change hands 

 twice. Sometimes I could hardly reel fast enough to 

 take up the slack, and again it seemed as if the tip must 

 go, when the old fellow suddenly turned and made off in 

 spite of my giving him the butt vigorously. That trout 

 believed in breaking water and did it time and again, in 

 fact almost every time he felt the line taut he would 

 leap from the water and shake his head, and flash his 

 silver sides and crimson spots in the sun as a token of 

 defiance. He was beginning to feel the steady strain of 

 the good little lancewood rod, and I worked him up near 

 the boat where he made the final struggle, which came 

 near ending in his favor. He came with a rush toward 

 the boat, broke from the water and then dived as if to 

 go under the boat, and if High had not quickly swung 

 the boat around this tale would ne'er been written, as I 

 do not like to write those with the other ending. High's 

 few strokes won the battle, for they brought the line near 

 him, and I had given the fish the butt so strong that the 

 supple rod brought him to the surface, and High sliding 

 his hand loosely down the line until near the trout's 

 head, with a skill born of experience, lifted him into the 

 boat. Even then Jim had to fall on him until High 

 could get hold of him and stab him. Then High re- 

 moved the hook, and where do you suppose it was? Just 

 hanging in the extreme edge of "his upper lip, which adds 

 another "if" to this tale. 



"What did he weigh?" 



"O," High said, "he'll go 'bout 21bs." 



Soon after this Jim had a rise that was a rise, but did 

 not hook the fish. He let his tip go back to give the 

 trout another chance and he took it, and again Jim 

 missed. The tip was let back once more, and this time 

 Jim struck so hard his rod broke at the middle of the 

 second joint. Jim muttered a word or so, at the same 

 time grabbing the line, and as the trout was still on tried 

 to bring him in hand over hand. He got him within 20 

 or 30ft. of the boat when his lordship gave a mighty 

 leap, showing himself to be the proverbial big one, got a 

 little slack and shook himself free. Jim afterward 

 managed to catch two on his bandline, while I got one 

 with my rod. This smoothed his ruffled feelings some- 

 what. Then as we had enough fish and I knew Jim was 

 not enjoying himself I suggested to "High" that as we 

 were near the trail we had better quit. The others 

 acquiesced and "High" turned the prow shoreward. 

 Just as we neared the shore a trout broke near us and 

 the ruling passion was so strong that I made a cast over 

 the spot where he had risen. He struck at the bait but 

 I missed him; just then the keel grated on the beach, 

 and while "High" was taking things out of the boat I 

 climbed a rock and tried several more casts, but without 

 success, and it was with a feeling of sorrow and regret 

 at leaving such a gem of nature as this lake that I reeled 

 up, unjointed the little rod that had served me so well 

 and took the trail back to Twitchell, whither Jim and 

 "High" had preceded me. I overtook them just before 

 we reached the shore, where we found Will waiting; he 

 had not enjoyed any luck and had only three fair-sized 

 trout. 



Jim and "High" had carried over the boat we had used 

 that day, so Will got in with his father and Jim and I 

 took the other boat. We steered from our course far 

 enough to inspect a camp across the lake which is owned 

 by Connecticut parties who occupy it for a month or so 

 everv season. It is very complete in its appointments 

 and commands a very fine view. 



- During the night I was awakened by Jim's restless- 

 ness: suddenly he quieted down, muttering in his sleep 

 something about "that rod." and I knew that he had 

 been fighting the battle of the day again. 



We were routed out early the next morning by "High." 

 announcing that breakfast, the last meal in this camp, 

 was ready. 



Soon everything was shipshape and we all got into the 

 borrowed boat and went over to the camp where we were 

 to leave the boat as the boys had foundT it. From there 

 we took the trail for South Branch where we arrived 

 about one o'clock. Here finding the boats all right, we 

 embarked for our twenty-mile row on our return to Still- 

 water. I took the oars for the first ten and Jim for the 

 last. As we arrived at the mouth of Wolf Creek we met 

 T. Miller Reed, with a guide, on the way to Smith' Lake. 

 After we had told him of our luck he told us that the day 

 before he had caught a trout weighing 2£lbs. on the 

 rapids below the dam, and when we arrived at the camp 

 soon after, we saw the diagram of the big fish on the 

 wall, and later the big fish itself in the ice house. We 

 accepted numerous congratulations on the size of our 

 catch. At the table besides Doctor G. we found two boys 

 from Lowville who had been out that day without catch- 



