46 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 21, 1892. 



CAMPING ON THE BLUE. 



In the running water there is life. Who can ca-ch and 

 hold the glint of the rivulet y No camera can reflect the 

 rapids. No two breaks of water lushing over stones are 

 alike. "Writers have attempted to tell the story of the 

 breakers, the song they sing. But they never sing the 

 same song twice. Wherein they have the advantage of 

 some singers and most story tellers. The songs of the 

 waters are always melodious. It is a medley with melody. 

 The rythm of swift- flowing water is the rarest sound in 

 nature. The beauties of the Blue have been told in poetry. 

 One denizen on the banks of this most crooked and tur- 

 bulent stream, one who has studied it in all its moods, 

 writes of its charms in a local paper: 



Mark the massive walls arise, 

 Lifting rugged rocky sides 

 Into deeply vaulted skies, 

 Wliei'e the fllmv fleece-rloud rides. 

 Here and thfre a stately colatnn 

 Leans its lonely form, and solemn 

 Embattled lines of sharp peaks set 

 Spear-like upon the parapet 

 Pierce with jagged, Dragged rrest 

 The Heaven's unresistine breast. 

 There a gnarled oak. dark and high, 

 Bare and bleak, and Wasted by 

 Crashing wind and flashirg sky, 

 Extends its wasted, bony form, 

 And still, though dead, defies the storm. 

 Here a majestic monarch shoots 

 Id lifted rocks its grappling roots: 

 Over the precipice, bald and bare. 

 It fearlessly flings to the upper air 

 Branches broad, storm-bent and old. 

 Black arrow-headed <:rags and tall 

 Leap up, and out, and over al!. 



Our camp ig ten miles from Milltown, the crossing of 

 the Air Line Eail- 

 road to Leavenworth 

 on the Ohio River, 

 by the country road. 

 By river it is fifty- 

 five miles. This will 

 show the windings 

 of the stream. It is 

 not sluggish. It 

 does not meander 

 through meadows. 

 At times the bluffs 

 rise abruptly for 400 

 feet; natural falls, 

 rapids, alternate 

 deep pools, form nat- 

 ural feeding groimds 

 and hybernating 

 places for fish. 



The canoeist can 

 here find swift 

 water, long reaches 

 of deep and quiet 

 water, abrupt turns 

 with ever varying 

 scenery. 



A down the stream 

 is a picture for an 

 artist of nature. The 

 camera and the 

 draughtsman may 

 delineate its fea- 

 tures as nearly as 

 they can be repro- 

 duced. Bat yet the 

 beauty of the scene 

 is not portrayed. It 

 can not be put upon 

 canvas, neither can 

 a pen portrait por- 

 tray its beauties. 

 Looking from the 

 front of the camp, 

 three rapids and two 

 beautiful green isles 

 make a picture that 

 can only be realized - 

 by being gazed upon 

 from our dining 

 room on the days 

 when sun and at- 



mottunere cjmbine to display effectively all its charms. 



"Fishing ii only for those who have learned the sport. 

 Like that of the wing shot, the art must be learned 

 in early life." Oae of the ladies of our party who had 

 never handled a rod hung a very nice, fish on an 8oz. rod 

 without a reel, with a very light line, and with a little in- 

 struction from "the old man.'' landed it in very nice 

 style. The main thing in taking a fish is to keep cool 

 and keep your mind on the business you are engaged in. 



Cisting into a pool of a depth of from ten to twenty 

 feet of clear, cold water forms an ideal fishing place for 

 black bass. The expert fly-fisher has here full swing. 

 For fotty yards in his rear and forty in front there is no 

 obstruction. He can stand and cast for hours without 

 disturbing the pool. Aba! says the fly-fisherman, the 

 bass will not rise to the fly. Yes, they will, but it must 

 be cist with skill, and so rushing are the rapids on either 

 side that his casting, the strike and struggles of the 

 hooked fish, do not create the commotion and consequent 

 disturbance that they would in quiet waters. Most val- 

 uable things learned are by experiment. Theory may 

 teach Wt practice makes perfect. To catch a bass in 

 midsummer in the streams of southern Indiana, requires 

 patience, perseverance and a knowledge of the stream. 

 Bv these requisites do not understand that the effort is to 

 catch these Graves of the waters on their spawning beds. 

 Far from it. It is after they have gone through that pro- 

 cess that they are the most wary. In the early spring 

 and during the first frosts in the fall season the bass will 

 rise to fly or bite at minnow, but in the season when 

 camping out is the most agreeable, it requires finesse to 

 catch the finny pride of middle Western waters. It is 

 then the art of the angler has the most exercise. 



Standing in the rapids and casting the fly for the bass 

 one may occasionally be surprised by the lunge of the 

 mascalonge (called the pike, but which David Starr Jor- 

 dan pronounces the mascalonge of the great Northern 

 lakes), and if he has tackle strong enough and his nerye 



is responsive to the effort, one of the gamest fish that 

 swims may reward the expert angler. Within a mile of 

 water stretch from where the patient angler in the pic- 

 ture stands, five pike (mascalonge) were captured in a 

 short time, the smallest weighing 6 and the largest 

 8lbs. Dr. Jordan says these fish, or their progenitors, 

 went down the Mississippi to the mouth, thence up the 

 Ohio to the mouths of the small rivers emptying into 

 that stream, up which they went and spawned and to 

 which they annually return. 



As a hint of how we live, here is a dinner bill of fare, 

 in plain Eoglish, as all bills of fare should be made out 

 for English-speaking people: 



Turtle Soup. 



Tiutle fried in rolled crackers. Baked Mascalonge. 



Claret Punch. 



Broiled Squirrel, Frog Legs. Broiled Mushrooms. 



Corn roasted in husk on the coals. 

 Boiled Beans with Bacon. Stewed Potatoes with cream dressing. 

 Buttermilk. Sweet Milk. Tea. Coffee. 

 Liquors. 

 Cigars— Cob Pipe if preferred. 



We catch our own turtles, shine our own frogs, gather 

 our own mushrooms, and, if particular about it, can milk 

 the cows and make our own buttermilk, which the same 

 we have not done. 



Coon hunting at night is a favorite amusement for the 

 young folks. 



There is Wyandotte Cave only a mile away, where the 

 underground way to the bowels of the earth can be 

 traversed. And what is there not here or hereabouts to 

 charm the eye, make music to the ear and cheer the heart 

 of all who love nature in her manifold beauties. Jap. 



New Axbany, lud. 



CANNON ISLAND CAMP, BLUE RIVER, INDIANA. 

 JTkom a Photograph by Mtss Maby O. Collins. 

 (Forest and Stream Amateur Photography Competition.) 



CAMPS OF THE KINGFISHERS.-V. 



CARP LAKE, MICHIGAN. 



The Carp Lake Camp. 



Kelpie was feeling better than when he first joined 

 us, but he was still "powerful weak an' porely," and he 

 was ordered to plant himself in a chair in the shade, light 

 his pipe, look on and take comfort, which he did with 

 some growls and protests, as he said it was the first party 

 he was ever out with that wouldn't let him do any of the 

 work of making camp. 



But we wanted him to take it easy till he came to his 

 appetite and gained a little strength, and we at last con- 

 vinced him that it was no use for a "'little old fragile 

 half sick feller" to stand up and. argue against four siza- 

 ble old strong and hearty ones. 



He had found his way into our hearts from the start, 

 and I believe any of us would have turned out of a snug 

 bed at midnight to roost on the ground and make a place 

 for him. 



Th?, three larsrer tents were put up in line a few feet 

 back from the break of the nearly perpendicular bank, 

 which was here S.or 9 ft. above the level of the lake. 



All along the steep slope, down to the narrow strip of 

 sandy beach was a growth of young birch trees, white 

 cedars and small bushes, with here and there a wild 

 cherry literally loaded down with bright red, half ripe 

 cherries, on which the robins, bluejays, flax birds and 

 others of our feathered friends would have a rare feast as 

 they ripened. 



Between this and the foot of the hill, from 4 to 8 rods 

 wide in places, was a strip of level, grass-grown, sandy 

 ground entirely free of bush or shrub, except a few puny 

 looking mullen stalks that had lost the ambition to grow 

 for lack of moisture in the hot, sandy soil. 



Near the first tent put up, a few feet from the bank, 



were two low, wide- topped jack oaks, dividing near the 

 ground into two and three separate branches, and under 

 their spreading boughs Charley and I built the table and 

 stretched the big fly over it, tying the guys on the lake- 

 side to small trees over the edge of the ba^^k. 



The ironclad was taken out of its box and the empty 

 box mounted on its side on one end of the long table, 

 the hinged lids to swing up, and this served admirably 

 for a cupboird in which the keeper of the frying-pans 

 kept his tin cups, plates, knives and forks, spoons, salt, 

 pepper and sichj Here was at once our dining-room, 

 parlor and general loafing place, a cool, laziness-breeding 

 retreat, for it was in the shade at all hours of the day. 



A couple of rods from the big fly, up lake, near the 

 bank, where he would have shade in the afternoon, 

 Barney's kitchen table and fireplace were located, and 

 just across the road at the foot ot the hill his tent was 

 pitched to be handy to his working territory. 



Kelpie, who had been lazily looking on and "coaritatin' 

 in his mind" during the camp-making, emerged from a 

 reverie and the shade of the oak with a well simulated 

 Rip- Van-Winkle expression on his face, remarkirig as he 

 knocked the ashes from his fireless pipe, that ' it looked 

 like somebody had been around there making a camp, 

 and being a stranger in these parts, he wondered if he 

 could get to stay all night with them." 



This smacked of a protest against his enforced idleness, 

 but his conscience was quieted by old Sam with, "Take 

 it easy, old pard; we don't 'low any sick man to do any 

 work around this ranch. Jest wait till ye kin gifc away 

 with a pound or two o' bacon at a settin' an' git some fat 

 on ver ribs, an' then maybe we'll let ye do somethin'— 

 see?" 



The wagon came back- with the straw in good time ard 

 before dark the beds were made and the camp about fin- 

 ished except for a pole on which to hoist "old glory" to 

 the breeze. • 



Barney put a good supper on the new tabl^, helpfd out 



by a bucket of rich 

 milk brought up 

 from the bouse by 

 neighbor Gehring, 

 which was a wel- 

 come change from 

 the pasty " con- 

 demned" stuff we 

 had bepn ut-ing in 

 our coffee at Grpen 

 Lake, and even Kel- 

 pie attack* d that 

 supper with a zeal 

 that started Barney 

 into a quiet chuctle, 

 as he poured him the 

 second cup of coffee, 

 at the success of his 

 cookery. 



We built no camp- 

 fire (hat ni»ht, but 

 went early to bed, as 

 happy and tired a lot 

 of mortals as ever 

 turned in for a 

 night's well earned 

 rest. 



Next morning 

 Charley and I walk- 

 ed down to the vil- 

 lage to get a few 

 supplies at the store 

 and hire a couple of 

 boats, old Sam going 

 along with the axe 

 at a "right shoulder 

 shift" as far as a 

 tract of swampy 

 woods below the 

 birch grove to cut a 

 flas' pole. 



We found our 

 friend Oberlin, who 

 was postmaster and 

 proprietor of the 

 store, the same ge- 

 nial clever fellow as 

 when WG made his 

 ac quai ntance the 

 year before, ready 

 to lick a stamp for a 

 fair customer, or sell at a "marked down"anythmg from 

 a cross-cut saw or a Chicago ham down to a yard of 

 calico, a fish, hook or a stick of black jack chewing gum. 

 A good country store keeps about everything necessary 

 to the comfort of mankind, and our wants were soon 

 supplied, not omitting a "reddin' comb" for old Sam, 

 whose wild-looking unkempt locks, Charley said, imita- 

 ting Sam's manner of speech when he atTected backwoods 

 dialect, which was most of the time — "made him look 

 like one o'them furrin' planer pounders what goes 'round 

 givin' recitals, as they call 'em." 



Oberlin told us where we could hire a couple of boats, 

 and in half an hour we were pulling against a stiff wind 

 back to camp, where we found Snakeroot and the Colonel 

 trimming a basswood sapling about 25ft. long, with 

 Kelpie standing by trying to figure out, as he said, "how 

 much longer that pole would be if the crooks were 

 straightened out of it." 



The next pole Sam cut, which be found in a grove a 

 quarter of a mile above camp near the water, was a 

 smooth-barked white birch 60ft. high, which he got 

 neighbor Laidlaw, living a little further up the lake, to 

 snake down to camp next morning behind his wagon as 

 he went to his work at the mill, and when the old flag 

 whipped out 55ft, from the ground to a salute from the 

 Colonel's big pistol, he was so swelled up with "tickle" 

 over his selection that, we didn't hear the last of "that 

 dandy flag pole o' mine" till he was in the wagon a couple 

 of weeks later ready to start for home, and it will doubtless 

 be his model for a flag pole when we make the next camp. 

 To make the spot even more perfect as a camping 

 place there was plenty of dry wood scattered along the 

 shore under the bank for the cook's fire and the nightly 

 camp-fire, and we were "jest about as near heaven as 

 the Joneses ever expect to get" when Barney found next 

 day, not more than ten rods up the lake, a spring of 

 delicious, cold water boiling up out of the sand under the 

 bank, with a perceptible taste of iron and^ we thought, a 



