182 



FOREST AND STlS^EAM. 



LSept. 1, 189S, 



ANGLING NOTES. 



Caught on a Fly. 



The artificial fly is intended only for hooking and catch- 

 ing fishj but fishermen have caught very strange strings 

 other than fiah when casting the fly, and a list of the 

 things, of the air that have been hooked with fly-rod and 

 fly at some time or another would prove interesting. 

 Birds, bats and chickens would in all probability occupy 

 the most prominent places in the list of animals that have 

 fallen victims to the allurements of counterfeit insects, 

 but other animals have been captured or hooked when 

 they had no desii-e to accept thf fly as a lure which 

 promised to satisfy the appetite. One nf the most notable 

 cases was told by the late Dr. T. S- Up De Grraff, of his 

 friend Mr, S. S. Hamlin, who gave his name to the Ham- 

 lin fly. Mr. Hamlin was fishing a Pennsyvlania trout 

 stream when a deer appeared on the bank within reach 

 of his cast, and as the deer made a startled plunge into 

 the stream to cross, the angler cast over his back and the 

 tail fly fastened in his rump. The butt of the rod was 

 advanced, but it was useless to hold such big game, and 

 the deer disappeared in the woods taking flies, leader and 

 most of the line that was on the reel, for the angler tried 

 hard until the smash came, after all the line was run cff, 

 I have a photograph of Dr. Up De Graff in the act of fish- 

 ing the ' Slope- Wall Pool" on the Lycoming and after 

 the doctor gave it, to me some one wrote on it with pen- 

 cil "Deer Pool," but it is not where the deer was hooked. 



A few years ago I catight an owl with a fly-rod, but not 

 with a fly, for a slip noose in the end of the line did the 

 business for his owlship. The most recent instance of 

 catching other than fisli with a fly I find in Land and 

 Water. A gentleman was fishing the lien, in Cork, Ire- 

 land, for salmon, and hooked and played, an S-poundfish, 

 and as he was about to gaff it a fox-terrier jumped from 

 the bank and made a da^h for the salmon and succeeded 

 in getting a dropper fly fast in the paw. "Then came the 

 tug of war. The salmon, i Tightened by the sudden ap- 

 pearance of the dog, rushed out with renewed pnergy into 

 the pool carrying the little fellow well under water. 

 Sometimes both would come to the surface, the dog 

 wanting to reach land and the fish to escape. This con- 

 tinued amid the greatest excitement for twenty minutes, 

 when the salmon was successfully landed and the fly was 

 taken out of the terrier's paw." 



Of water animals the late Col. Frank Pinckney has told 

 of hooking a big bullfrog, and another angler hooked a 

 muskrat, both being caught foul while fly-fishing in the 

 evening. I presume this list may easily be added to, for 

 I think Mr. R. B. Marston, of the Fishing Gazette, once 

 hooked a cow on the back cast. 



I was once fishing a stream that in places was so thick 

 with brush that it was impossible to get a fly on the 

 water, and I was using fUes, while a friend who was with 

 me used bait. He declined to fish one alder-covered hole, 

 and I borrowed a worm of him and took off my leader 

 and flies and baited a snelled hook, and caught the 

 largest trout of the year from the stream. Expecting to 

 at once replace the leader I did not wish to coil it, so 

 went out of the brush and placed the leader and its three 

 flies, all new, on a flat rock. In ten minutes the leader 

 and flies were gone. There was no wind and the earth 

 was bare about^the rock, but I never saw the leader again. 

 If I could know what animal was deceived by the flies I 

 might add it to the list. 



Rank Heresy. 

 A few years ago I thought it my duty as an angling 

 writer to criticise adversely one of the letters in the Jour- 

 nal of Commerce that are signed with an old English W. 

 I did 80 with the greatest regret, the more so because for 

 twenty- five years I have had a warm admiration for this 

 brilliant, captivating, angling author, but his position 

 made his advice the more pernicious. Then his letter was 

 headed, "Stop Killing Lirge Trout— Absurd Game Laws 

 —Useless Fiau Commissions." Briefly, he advocated the 

 abolition of the 6 in. trout law, the captiu'e of fingerling 

 trout, and a law which should forbid the capture of trout 

 over a half pound or a pound in weight. Fish commis- 

 sioners were held to be useless, and a possible repeal of 

 all fish and game laws predicted. Of that letter I wrote 

 that in my opinion "Ic is weak in argument, wrong in 

 assumption of facts, and utterly lacking in that for which 

 it was commended — common sense. I say it with re- 

 gret, but the author appears to have given no heed to the 

 results, dtrived from years of practical fishculture, and 

 little thought to the habits of the fish thtmselvps, other- 

 wise he would have chosen compariiions in breeding with 

 surrounding conditions more alike than those of farm 

 cattle and wild fiihes. ' * * * Except for the old Eng- 

 lish W at the foot of the letter, one would think it was 

 written by a pot-fisherman or 'trout hog' of the most pro- 

 nounced type, a man who delights to catch finger lings 

 for market or to boast of his catch in numbers. If all the 

 male trout could have rings in their noses and be led with 

 leading sticks, and the female trout be haltered in box- 

 stalls, and the fry be herded in pastures by watchful 

 men, then Dr. Prime's plan might work; but until trout 

 are taught to eat hay and oats, and stay on a farm 

 without jumping the fences, I fear we will have to 

 continue to breed fish in water, strengthen our excel- 

 lent Fish Commission, protect the young, healthy breed- 

 ing fish, kill the old cannibals, and send the netter, fin- 

 gerling hunter and trout hog to j iil for non-compliance 

 with just and reasonable laws. * * * I can charge 

 the letter only to lamentable ignorance, but coming from 

 such a source it mig;hfi work injury if it was passed by 

 unnoticed, as it would be if writ en by another pen. I 

 have attempted to write mildly upon this subject in face 

 of the face that a grievous wrong is done to our Fish 

 Commission by one whom I feel would uphold them if 

 he understood better the admirable work they have 

 accomplished and are accomplishing, but such changes 

 as are advocated in the letter would surely be the means 

 of destroying entirely our trout fishing for years to 

 come." Dr. Prime has recently written another letter 

 dealing chiefly with black bass and the manner of fish- 

 ing for them, which is interesting and instructive, but 

 he thinks that an error has been made in stocking the 

 lakes and ponds of New Eagland with this game fish, 

 because it has displaced the pike (the so-called pickerel) 

 and the yellow perch. I fully agree with him that many 

 small lakes and ponds have been planted with black bass 

 that should not have known the fish in their waters, but 

 I think no one will agree with his manner of getting rid 

 of them. I quote only the final paragraph, which con- 



tains the remedy, and this requires no comment from 

 me: "The beginning of the remedy should be to repeal 

 all laws protecting the black bass in the early season. 

 They are as good a food iish when they begin to form 

 their nests on the shaUows in the spring as in July, and 

 if with spear, and net, and trap and hook their increase 

 can be kept down, there may be a chance for the perch 

 and pickerel, and the farmers' families may again have 

 fish food once in a while." I wonder if the omission of 

 dynamite was intentional, and also wonder what the 

 farmers' families think of the remedy? A. N. Cheney. 



TROUTING IN THE NORTHWEST. 



On Friday evening, July 23, at 4 o'clock I finished 

 sawing the last log I had in the mill, went up and turned 

 off the water, went to the house, hung my hat on a pair 

 of antlers, which I use as a substitute for a hat rack, 

 picked up the Forest and Seream, and had just finished 

 reading "Kingfisher's" article No. 2, when there was a 

 rap at the door, and I said, "Come in." In stepped 

 Andrew, my Indian helper, and said: "Lew, nica, nica 

 tillicums tickey clatawa. Sockley ocoke illihe iskum 

 mowich. Wake siaw. Polackley Sunday kilipi." Which 

 meant that he and his friends wanted to go up on the 

 big mountain aud kill some deer and he would be back 

 Sunday evening. I told him "All right." 



After he left 1 read for a short time, but could not help 

 sympathizing with '-Kingfisher" and his companions and 

 wish he was here. We would go to a stream where the 

 trout are not all caught out yet. I concluded I would go 

 over to Kettle River and see if I could catch a few trout. 



Next morning I heard the clock strike 3. I jumped out 

 of bed, donned my clothes, started a fire in the stove, and 

 milked my cow while the stove was heating up. After 

 eating a hearty breakfast, consisting of oatmeal mush, 

 poached eggs, a slice of bacon, hot biscuits, fresh butter 

 and honey, I picked up a rope and started for my horse, 

 which I found in a short time. On getting back to the 

 house it did not take me long to get ready. 



At 5 o'clock I mounted my horse and was off for Kettle 

 River, B. C, distant twenty-three miles, over a tolerably 

 high divide, but splendid trail. To a person who is not 

 accustomed to mountains this route would be considered 

 quite pictui-esque: here were rolling prairies, deepcalions, 

 high mountains in the north, a high mountain covered 

 with thickets that are almost impassable for man or beast 

 on the south, while the snow-capped peaks stretched far 

 away to the west. But this beautiful scenery has long 

 since lost its charm for me. When I reached the summit 

 I rode out to a little lake which covers four or five acres 

 of ground and is the breeding place of a few mallards 

 and coots or mud hens. The old mallard had quite a 

 brood; I could not count them, as they made a break for 

 the tules as soon as she discovered me: but the mud hens 

 were not so shy, there were nine young ones. 



I kept on, and Frank (my dog) kept flushing bevy after 

 bevy of grouse, some over half grown, while occasionally 

 a brood would not be as large as larks. He made some 

 very nice points, but I would not shoot any, as we were 

 too far from camp and I was fishing, not hunting, just 

 then. 



I reached Kettle River at 12; here I met an Indian 

 acquaintance who wanted to know where I was going. 

 I told him I was after fish. He exclaimed, "Tenas; 

 kikooly hyiu," down the river a little there were lots of 

 them, and he measured up on his arm to the elbow that 

 they were that long. I went down about one-half mile 

 to a shallow ford, but the river was quite deep. I was 

 told by the Indian that I could not cross, but I was going 

 to try, for the fishing is always best on the other side. 



I rode in and the water came up within six inches of 

 my horse's withers. Here the stream was about fifty 

 yards wide and ran quite swift. I got across O. K. and 

 went down a short distance where I found a good place 

 to camp. I soon had my traps off, picketed my horse, 

 jointed my rod, attached the reel and line, and put on 

 a couple of small hooks baited with grasshoppers. 



I went down a short distance to a small point that had 

 an eddy below it, where X threw out my line and it had 

 floated down but a short distance when, ripiiy swish 

 splash, and a reddish silver streak flashed through the 

 water. It looked as if a trout was trying to play whale, 

 and my grasshopper a yawl loaded with sailors; it was 

 so sudden it made me jump, and I think a stethoscope 

 would have shown that my pulse was on the increase at 

 a rapid rate. In an instant my pole received a big jerk. 

 I gave it a quick twitch which hooked a fish, and from 

 the way he jumped and thrashed I thought I had one as 

 large as the Indian had indicated. 



The reel began to sing as the trout made for the other 

 side of the river, he, too, thinking the other side was the 

 best. Aftpr he had gone seventy-five or eighty feet I 

 began to haul him up; I saw two leap clear out of the 

 water, and as they were near together, I thought they 

 were both hooked. I played them until they would 

 fight no more, when I landed them. They were beautiep; 

 one was fourteen inches long while the other was a foot. 

 I killed them, then took them oft" the hook, put them on 

 a string and laid them in the water. 



I put on a couple more grasshoppers, threw out my 

 line, and in an instant felt a jerk at the pole, which I 

 responded to by a smaller jerk. This was a very lively 

 one, but he soon ran down and T landed him. He was 

 about the size of the smaller one of the first pair. I 

 dressed these, went to camp, built a fire and got my 

 dinner. 



I brought along a spider to cook in, as it is much 

 thicker than a frying-pan. I can cook anything better, 

 and do not scorch it. I put in four tablespoonfuls of 

 lard, one of butter, rolled my trout in flour, and when 

 my grease was smoking hot I put mv trout in, covered 

 up the spider with a tin plate and let them cook until 

 they were a delicate brown: then I turned them over and 

 cooked them until they were done. After they were 

 done I poured the grease off into a can and my dinner 

 was ready — such a dinner, too, fit for a workingman: 

 fried trout, bread, butter and gooseberry preserves, and 

 for beverage a cup of hot water. 



After dinner and a short rest, but no smoke, T went to 

 fishing, and in two hours I caught 27. the smallest lOin., 

 longest 15m. I fixed up my pack, saddled up my horse, 

 recrossed the river, went back up about four miles, and 

 camped for the night. After picketing my horse I got 

 supper, then made down my bed, went to bed and in a 

 very few minutes was sound asleep. 



Next morning I was up long before old Sol, got my 



breakfast and palled out for home. I had gone but a 

 short distance when Frank put up a fine bevy of ruft'ed 

 grouse, they were not large enough to kill, when one 

 could do better and I was not hungry. In a short time 

 he came to a staunch point. As I had left the creek and 

 brush I thought it must be blue grouse. I got down and 

 walked up to him, when up got six or seven nice grouse, 

 they were a little more than half grown. I shot twice, 

 got one I marked down, when a couple settled, and when 

 they got up one at a time I got both. I drew the three, 

 tied them on to the saddle, and started on. 



Frank was very anxious to have his hunt; he was up a 

 slope to my right when he ran out an old cock grouse. 

 When it flushed he chased it down past me. I hollered 

 at him and he came in. I scolded him. He looked up as 

 much as if to say : "My father is a greyhound, my mother 

 a Gordon setter; now, if I point half the time yuu ought 

 to be satisfied. Last winter when you broke the leg of 

 that big black-tail doe and you told me to catch it, I 

 bayed it in the brush until you came up and shot it in 

 the head: then you patted me on the bead and said, 'G jod 

 doggy,' now, because I chase a grouse you t^cold me. I 

 will just get in the trail behind G^-orge and won't hunt 

 any more." Well, if that is what he thought he did not 

 carry it out, for in less than 100yds. he was hunting as 

 busy as ever, and he made some points as nice as I ever 

 saw. 



The cover was good; the day not hot. I kept getting 

 off and killing until my last cartridge was shot. I started 

 with fifteen loaded shells and I had killed ten birds. Not 

 a first-olass showing. Well, I will have to do better than 

 that if I cut much of a figure in the World's Fair tourna- 

 ment at Chicago. 



I reached home -just as the clock struck eleven. I had 

 had two days' splendid sport, and the only thing that 

 could have made it better would have been to have had 

 Kingfisher or any other good sportsman alone- to share 

 the sport with me. Lew Wilmot. 



LOOMIS, Wash. 



WHEN YOU HAVE ON A MUSKALONGE. 



Augusta, Ga.— Editor Forest and Stream: 1 inclose 

 you a letter writen by Rev. Dr. Lansing Burrows, of 

 Augusta, and published in the Ghroniele, of this city, 

 yesterday. The Doctor has been on a vacation to Michi- 

 gan, and for description of the sensation of fishing it ; 

 excels anything I have read. Thinking you would like 

 to republish same I inclose copy. — J OHN M. Weigle. 



There are four of us in this pilgrimage into the wilder- ' 

 ness. Mr. F. N. Lewis, a Main street merchant of Louis- 

 ville and his son, a student of fair Harvard, Col. Weir, - 

 of Owensboro, a typical Kentuckian, and the Georgia : 

 pilgrim. With wonderful preparations for fish slaugh*- ' 

 ter we have penetrated to the furthest extreme, head- 

 quartering at the "Elliot." This is no Arlington. The 

 glimmer of a few white tents bespeaks the presence of a 

 party of camoers, and this is as near the chair-warming 

 feature as woods hostelry can boast of. The points 

 further back have claimed the greater part of the fishers ; 

 and we have the primeval wilderness almost to oursel- 

 ves. The breath of the balsam woods fans the tanned 

 cheek, the same air that Bayard Taylor has described "asi 

 grateful to the lungs as Falernian to the palate." The 

 clear, cold waters rush and swirl in tortuous channels i 

 ranging from boulder-lined shore swallows to fifteen 

 fathoms. Merrily they dash their green waves striped 

 with golden sunrays upward to catch the blue of the. 

 cloudless ether. This is the home and haunt of the bass 

 and pickerel and trout and the majestic and gamy 

 muscalonge. On first landing our introduction was a 

 seventeen pound pickerel! What do you think of that, 

 ye Edisto fishermen? 



McGulpin is the guide. Brown of face and with a 

 cheery smile, he looks like a battercake with a dab of 

 honey on it. From Elliot's he leads us through the; 

 spruce forest a half mile, over a velvety turf formed of 

 the fallen spruce leaves, as soft as a Persian carpet, and 

 we come out on the most lonesome expanse of water I' 

 ever saw. It is between great islands, but the entrances 

 on either side are narrow and winding. The shores of 

 rock are lined with the everlasting green of the balsam — ■ 

 and the trees, the bright green water and the encircling 

 sky are all that eye can behold. 



The trolls are out. The silent oarsman bends to his 

 work. The quiet is depressing. Not a sound disturbs 

 the eternal silence. Even the oars dip without more, 

 than a ripple. Only two lines follow in the wake of the- 

 l3oat. The C lonel and the Student have gone away to 

 themselves, too far cff to note their luck. The moments 

 lengthen out — and then the line lengthens, too. What is' 

 this? Have I caught a hidden rock? Queer rock to lash 

 tail likH that! In it comes, tugging and raging, and with 

 open mouth threatening a modern edition of Jonah, to lie 

 panting and wrestling in the boat — a lOlbs. pickerel. 



Better a moment of Les Cheueaux 

 Than a hundred and twenty Ertistoe! 



This is enough to make a man poetic. Solomon never 

 would have written in dyspeptic vein had he been able 

 to land lOlbs. pickerels. The fishing is not very good in 

 Palestine, I think. With a line pulling out almost as 

 fast as one is ptilling in, and the waters white with con- 

 tagious rage of a finny gladiator, there could be no re- 

 collection of the depressing heart-burn and provoking 

 cough of indigestion. To be fishing where there never 

 are mosquitoes or malaria, or even black flies and other 

 insects contributes to the sources of universal charity and 

 generosity. E ven the hay fever patient snuffs only the 

 battle with the trout 



But to catch a muecalonge — a palpitating, throbbing,, 

 gamy aggregation of five and twenty pounds of aqueous 

 life— you Brier Creek men must wait for that before you 

 come 'to tell what luck you have had. Oh you swamp 

 fishermen, gently throw out your line and watch that no 

 leaf or lily pad or stalk of bulrush entangles its intrusive 

 green upon your glittering spoon. Did you feel a gpntle 

 tug I Draw up; you have caught a weed. Take it oS. an(? 

 carefully let your 100 ft. of line out again. B^ patient, 

 for you may do this a dozen times. But the air has stirred 

 the waters with ripplings. The fugitive clouds have 

 swept the golden glitter from these creeks— be wary now/ 

 Permit the line to lie along the fore finger, pressing the' 

 tips. Lounge not, sit steadily, drawn up like a tiger ready 

 to spring, alert and lithe in an instant. That glittering.^ 



