SS2 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 20, 1892. 



the ^parhnim ^aui[ist 



TROUTING IN THE COAST RANGE.-Il. 



The Nehalem Country. 



TowsER was a formidable-looking brute, as he lay 

 there glaring at us with hie great blood-shot eyes, be- 

 moaning the invention of boom chains. I am not an ex- 

 pert on dogs and am therefore unable to say just what 

 breed of dog he is, ibut it is my opinion that he is a cross 

 between a Siberian bloodhound and a rat- terrier, with the 

 size of the firat and disposition and general characteristics 

 of both, It is barely possible that he is in some way con- 

 nected with the night-mare breed; for I am almost sure 

 that I haA^e seen similar looking dogs in my dreams when 

 trying in a helpless sort of way to get over a fence away 

 from the hydrophobia. At any rate Towser was a "bad 

 man from Bitter Creek," and evidently was entitled to 

 the reputation he bore. 



Turpin and his wife, in fact the whole family, were 

 intelligent and generous, and from oWest to youngest 

 they all set about making things pleasano for us. Although 

 we had had our breakfast after a fashion, nothing would 

 do the good people but that we should join them in their 

 morning repast, and the Doctor and I stowed the good 

 things away in a manner that mu^t have convinced them 

 that we were grateful creatures at least and knew how 

 to manifest our appreciation of their kindness. 



V/e were somewhat f ootsorp and stiffened from the long, 

 tiresome trip of the preceding day and decided to spend 

 thig day resting up: and l>i'8ides, the agreeable reception 

 tendered us by the Turpins made us loth to leave too 

 hastily the cheer of the:r humble but happy abode. 



Eeally I think that Turpin has four of the prettiest and 

 m ost agreeable girls in the world : and even we old married 

 fellows find it a litJle difficult to resist the temptation to 

 rest up under such circumstances, when there is any ex- 

 cuse for it. So the Doctor and I rested up, and he, being 

 unmarried a-id a free lance, rested harder, if possible, 

 than I did. I know that a 25 -mile walk with heavy 

 packs over the mountains of a hot day is tiresome, but 

 the Doctor couldn't fool me. I knew him too well. He 

 wasn't half the physical wreck and confirmed invalid he 

 idt on to be. But he fookd the girls and had the whole 

 crowd, except little Annie, condoling with him and minis- 

 tering to his wants. Annie stuck by me because I had 

 promised to send her a doll. If she asked me once she 

 did twenty times to describe the doll; and it did me as 

 much good to tell her about it as it did her to listen, for 

 she laughed so merrily and her eyes sparkled so brightly. 



But "resting up" can't last long with an angler of the 

 true spirit on the bank of such a river as the Nehalem; so 

 I asked Johnny how the fishing was. "Lots of fish and 

 big ones" said Johnny, "but we don't care anything for 

 fish, and I would rather hunt anyway." I asked him if 

 what the postmaster had told me about the twenty wild 

 cats was true and he said it was and more, he and Towser 

 had recently killed a big black bear. Pretty young hun- 

 ter, thought I, to be talking about bears. Bob-cats are 

 big enough for most hunters twenty years older than 

 Johnny. I asked Turpin if he did not feel a little anxiety 

 about this proclivity of Johnny's that led him off alone 

 into the forest for such game. Turpin ridiculed the idea 

 of danger to the boy and glanced at me in a way that 

 made me feel decidedly uncomfortable. But then I was 

 only speaking for the boy's sake and was not afraid of 

 wildcats and bears myself. "I guess that Johnny and 

 Towser can take care of themselves in these woods," said 

 Turpin, and Johnny stuck his thumbs under his rawhide 

 suspenders and looked longingly across the river as much 

 as to say, "Bring on your wildcats and bears," 



Along towards noon Johnny broached the subject again 

 with, "Say, mister, you don't look so very tired, s'pose 

 we take the dogs and go up the swale, mebby we would 

 find a cat." 



"What dogs?" I asked. 



"Why," said he, "your yeller dog and old Tows." 



I thought it was bad enough to hunt wildcats without 

 having Tows turned loose, so I declined and suggested 

 that we try the trout. So Johnny got his worm box and 

 we went down the bank to a beautiful, dark pool resting 

 at the foot of a wild, raving rapid not a hundred yards 

 from the house. 



Johnny's tackle consisted of an alder sapling, a sturgeon 

 line and what looked to me like a young hog-hook. I 

 laughed to myself at the outfit, but when I got out my 

 8oz. rod and little black reel I imagined that I discovered 

 a sort of sardonic grin ijlaying around the corners of 

 Johnny's mouth. So it seems that we were both having 

 a lot of fun on the quiet. Of com'so I knew that the fly- 

 book would be a surprise to Johnny, but thought that I 

 would wait and let him feel the secret chagrin of being 

 outclaassed in fishing, even if he could put a little "dog" 

 on the wildcat proposition. 



Quietly putting on a three-fly whip (as is my custom), 

 I proceeded to straighten my leader in a careless sort of 

 way, but so as to attract his attention. I succeeded ad- 

 mirably and was soon busy explaining the art of fly-fish- 

 ing to a very interested listener. Johnny seemed inter- 

 ested enough, but only commented to the extent of 

 suggesting: "Mister, I am afraid you don't know the 

 Nehalem trout." But then, you know that those not 

 familiar with the capabilities of the fly -rod always talk 

 that way. By this time I could see that Johnny had de- 

 cided to play audience and "give the calf plenty of rope," 

 He quietly laid his sapling on the bank and sat down on 

 a rock with his hands in his pockets. 



It pleased me to have him so attentive, for I wanted to 

 instruct him a little before giving him the customary as- 

 sortment of flies and leaders. 



You know with what artistic grace the professional fly- 

 caster takes his stand and poises his rod when exhibiting 

 Inmself. Well, that was the way I opened the ball on 

 the Nehalem, I didn't have to request Johnny to nay 

 strict attention, for he never took his eyes ofl: me. With 

 a. sweeping cmwe of the rod and a quick turn of the wrist 

 I planted the flies well out in the bosom of the deep, dark 

 pjol and anxiously awaited results. So did Johnny. I 

 nad drawn my flies almost to the point where another 

 cast is necessary to avert slackness when, with a rush and 

 splash that juade my hair rise there came a monster for 

 my royal-coachman, the like of which I hope may never 

 again see anything inviting in a No 6 fly hung to a 



elwder leader ?M ^07>, rod in hands, • ■ ^ 



Well, I am sorry to say that he got the fly and presently 

 another monster got the professor, and the result was 

 simply, that they got what they went after while I didn't. 

 This was a little annoying under the circumstances, but 

 Johnny was too well raised to manifest any exultation or 

 give vent to any hilarity, I got out another leader, the 

 heaviest I had, and having discovered that three such flies 

 were at least two too many, I removed all but the 

 stretcher, the royal. I made one more cast that day. It 

 was a long cast; in fact it turned out to be a very long 

 cast, for no sooner did my fly touch the water than it 

 started for the Pacific Ocean. Even after my line was 

 all run out it kept on casting until I found myself minus 

 not only the leader but part of the line, 



Johnny thought he'd better get one fish any way for 

 dinner, and under the circumstances I didn't feel like 

 objecting. Thereupon he loaded his hog-hook with 

 worms and cast out in the good old-fashioned way. 



He soon hooked a fish, and without stopping to "play" 

 him dragged him in as ignominiously as if he had been a 

 sucker. But Johnny's trout, the one he caught, didn't 

 weigh more than 5 or 61bs. I requested Johnny not to 

 say anything aboiit what had happened, and even promised 

 to send him a lot of fish hooks as an inducement for him 

 to keep his mouth shut; but when Turpin asked me what 

 luck I had had, I assumed an injured air and made a clean 

 breast of it. I told him that no thoroughbred professional 

 fly-fisherman would care to be caught fishing after such 

 great, overgrown ocean porpoises as I had found in the 

 Nehalem River: and that so far as I was personally con- 

 cerned, I proposed to go back into the mountains, where 

 I could finds and lain, mountain trout, as they were 

 much sweeter and afforded much more genteel sport, and 

 besides they were not so coarse and rude, you know. 



I had gone into the Nehalem country to see the 

 "elephant," and had already seen three, but eo far as the 

 fishing part of the trip was concerned, I had gone pre- 

 pared for trout, not tarpon. 



A very disagreeable but unavoidable condition to such 

 angling as one finds in these remote waters is the fact 

 that fish are so plentiful, and so little use can be made of 

 them that to avoid inexcusable waste one doesn't get to 

 fish much. A half-hour each day of actual fishing will 

 keep the lardpr well supplied with this toothsome and 

 indispensable part of the necessary forage; so that, if it is 

 close season for game, one cannot do much but loiter 

 around camp the rest of the time. 



Turpin said that there were no well-defined trails lead- 

 ing south from the bluffs of the Nehalem and it was a bad 

 country to get through, and to the inexperienced might 

 be added for consideration the great danger of getting 

 lost. He couldn't see the necessity of our tramping oft' 

 into a country of which he himself had little knowledge, 

 to undergo the attendant hardships and privations when 

 we could get all the fish and game we could wish almost 

 at his door, and have a roof over our heads when night 

 came, in the bargain. This was good but ineffectual 

 logic. 



We wanted to see the country and investigate the 

 streams and other resource.-), so we determined to strike 

 out south in the morning. Spreading our blankets on the 

 floor in the corner, we sleiJt soundly, almost dreamlessly, 

 until the girls called us to our early breakfast. Shoulder- 

 ing our packs, we started up the high, grassy bluft' bound 

 for the upper waters of Deep Creek. We had decided to 

 follow the burnt ridge on the west side of the creek, but 

 within sight of its caiions, to avoid the possibility of 

 getting lost. It was useless to try to follow the creek, 

 and the mountain sides were absolutely impassable. I am 

 honest in the assertion that the inter svoven sal-lal and 

 fern on the Coast Rmge reach a height of 15ft., where 

 the conditions are favorable, and how the elk get throueh 

 the tangled mass at all is beyond my comprehension. We 

 had our hatchets with us, and they came very handy in 

 blazing the trail and in cutting our way throtigh the 

 worst places. 



We had nearly reached the top of the high bluft" when 

 we heard one of the girls scream back at the house, and 

 turning we saw, horror of horrors, Towser coming after 

 us on the dead run. A moment later and the Doctor and 

 I were on a big log, with hatchets drawn and Mike 

 between us, all prepared to die like men. On came the 

 brute straight for us. Nearer and nearer he came, u^itil 

 he stood by our log looking up at us. He studied our atti- 

 tudes and the grim determination depicted on cur faces 

 for a moment, only a moment, and then—wagged his tail. 

 He looked oft' into the forest and then up at us again, as 

 much as to say: "Gentlemen, you are wasting precious 

 time up there, let's be getting on." Mike seemed to grasp 

 the situation before we did, and jumping down from our 

 roost he and Tows greeted each other in that cordial way 

 peculiar to dogs, while the Doctor and I sneaked down 

 silently, and in a manner decidedly unbecoming to such 

 heroes. But Towser was with us, life-size, and proposed to 

 stay; and a more agreeable companion among the gloomy 

 mountains of the Coast PLange would be hard to find, as I 

 am free to acknowledge after a week's experience. He is 

 a brave, good dog, and he has been maliciously slandered, 

 and I am glad of this opportunity to testify in his behalf, 

 and desire to place myself on record as of the opinion that 

 no nobler, braver or more faithful dog lives than poor, 

 old, much-abused Tows, when he meets with half-way 

 decent treatment or an appreciative friend. 



During the week we were together in the deep forests 

 of those romantic mountains Towser was never morose or 

 ill-natured, and even permitted Mike to impose upon him 

 rather than to have any misunderstandings or trouble in 

 camp. However, I do not for a moment doubt his 

 prowess or valor, or his ability to take care of himself in 

 any ordinary scrimmage even with wildcats. We were 

 on a simple fishing trip and were armed with only revol- 

 vers and hunting knives, for it was not open season for 

 elk and deer. At night we would camp on Deep Creek 

 or some other pretty mountain stream, stopping early 

 enough to secure plenty of trout for supper and breakfast. 



Where can a man be placed that he will more fully 

 realiz3 that he is close to nature than by a camp-fire at 

 night in the remote forests of untraversed mountains. 

 One can almost hear the whisperings of the gray and 

 gloomy mountains as they chant their solemn chorus to 

 the song of the spheres. Awed into silence by the spectral 

 splendor and stupendous grandeur of the weird surround- 

 ings, one involuntarily and reverentially listens as if ex- 

 pecting to hear nature speak. And slie does speak, but 

 not in the language of men. From under her veil of 

 mystery we hear the birds, the brooks, the tree-tops and 

 the tbousapd forest tongues, aU busy tranelg,ting the leg- 



son she here teaches. So let us go to the forests, to the , 

 mountains and commune with nature in her own wild 

 solitudes. It makes better men of us and lifts us up and ; 

 above the sordid thoughts and tainted reflections of com- 

 mon, every day human existence. S. H, GjiilBNE. 

 Portland, Oregon. 



JACK AND I ON ATRIP TO ISLE ROYAL. 



"If thou art worn and hard beset . 

 With sorrows that thou wonldst forget, 

 If thou wouldst read a lesson that wUl keep 

 Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, 

 Go to the woods and hills! No tears 

 Dim the sweet look that nature wears." 



~H. W. LnngfetUiw. 



I WAS sitting in my room feeling a little blue one 

 August evening when the door opened and in walked 

 Jack. After a few words he said, "I'll go on a trip along 

 the North Shore and to Isle Royal with you, if you'll go 

 Thursday morning. I fairly gasped in astonished delight, 

 for we had been talking of such a trip all the ppring and 

 summer, but the more we talked the further off the reali- 

 zation seemed and only two days before he had told me ; 

 that he did not see how we could get off. Here he was 

 however, with his proposition to go Thursday and thia 

 was Tuesday evening. "I can only be away ten days" 

 he continued, "so let's decide quick." "I'll go" I replied.'" 

 "But there'll have to be some hard work done to-morrow," 

 and there was. W^ednesday evening at 10 o'clock Jack 

 and I were lying in bed; with all our dunnage at the 

 depot, and every thing arranged as ship-shape as possible 

 at home and the alarm clock set for 3:30 A. M. "Does 

 that thing ever fail to go oft" on time? " asked Jack 

 sleepily. "Never," 



"Well then, good night." 



""Good night," 



'Twas a perfect summer morning when we awoke, and 

 hastily dressing, reached the station with a few minutes 

 to spare before we started on our nine hours' ride by rail 

 to Daluth. Harvesting had just commenced, and on 

 that fair August morning the fields seemed doubly beau- 

 tiful and the streams and lakes qnd forests glorified as we 

 whirl'^d away eastward. 



At Staples where we changed cars we found evidence 

 of the work of the eltctric storm of the Sunday evening 

 previous, as only a heap of blackened brick and other 

 material remained of the building which had contained 

 the superintendent's and train difpatcbej'n offices, and the 

 lunch room. The train dispatcber's office was now a 

 box car, which seemed enveloped in a network of wires. 

 Onward we went through an almost unbroken sameueoS 

 of jack-pine and tamarack marsh, At one place the train 

 stopped in the woods, there was a village of birch bark 

 teepees, and canvas tents. It was a camp of Indians, 

 who were picking blueberries. For those who desired to 

 see the picturesque Indian as he now exists in Minnesota, 

 here was an excellent opportunity. 



Half-past twelve found us at West Superior, and in a 

 brief while more we were in Duluth. Oiu- first errand 

 was to find when a steamer left for the North Shore and 

 Isle Royal. We found that the Cambria left for Port 

 Arthur that evening; the Dixon for the North Shore and 

 the island three days later. What should we doV Go to 

 Port Arthur on the Cambria and wait there for the 

 Dixon or wait at Duluth"? I was for waiting at Duluth, as 

 I wished Jack to see the beautiful scenery along the 

 route. We decided to wait for the Dixon," but not in 

 Duluth, We would run out to Knife Eiver, camp there 

 for a couple days and try for some trout. A ride of three- 

 quarters of an hour on the Iron Range Road, with old 

 Superior close on one side and the uplift of rock supported 

 hills on the other, crossing many streams where in their 

 season trout do hide, brought us to Knife River, and we 

 and our dunnage were left on the platform which serves 

 as a station, while the train went whirling cu, We 

 speedily set up out tent, with the river a few rods in front 

 and the gleaming lake a short distance oft". How beauti- 

 ful it all was. Close by were two large tents, which we 

 learned belonged to the grading crew at work on the 

 country road, beyond these tents the woods reached away 

 to the great Iron Ranges, and beyond to the Canadian 

 border; the river in its gorge lying here like a long placid 

 pool, ever seeking an uninterrupted exit into the lake 

 and ever beaten back and interrupted by the restless 

 waves and shifting sandbar; while standing out in bold 

 relief a few rods from shore was Knife Island Reef en- 

 circled and wave-lashed, a prominent object for a long 

 distance up and down the shore. As soon as our tent was 

 fixed to our satisfaction we put up our rods and prepared 

 to try for trout. The cook from the graderb' tent came 

 over and watched us. He was a medium-sized man with 

 an enormous shock of hair and whiskers, and all below 

 this was enveloped in a great white apron, the whole 

 make-up suggested to Jack and I a picture we had seen 

 of a statue of Moses, by a certain very great sculptor. 

 Jack dubbed him Moses at once, but we found out later 

 that the graders also had an exalted name from him, 

 nothing less in fact than King James. Just as we were 

 ready to start for the river Moses broke silence with : 



"Say, you'll not get any fish here." 



"Not get any fish, why"?" 



"There are none here, nor have been for a month,'' 



"But this is a noted trout stream," 



"Can't help it, they are not here now. If you want 

 trout you'll have to go about seven miles up to some of 

 the little branches and there you'll find a few. You're 

 too late anyhow," he added as he turned away. 



Jack and I looked at each other. "The old addlepate," 

 exclaimed Jack. "Do you suppose he knowt?" 



"No, I do not," I answered as bravely as I could, but 

 in my heart I was afraid he did know, and experience 

 proved it to be so; for not one trout did we get or even 

 catch eight of while at Knife River, Carefully did we 

 fish up the stream that afternoon until lengthening shad 

 ows gave indication that; it was time to return to camp. 

 I had not had the faintest sign of a bite. Jack said he 

 had one strike as though a 3-pound bass had taken the 

 hook; but the hook did not take the fish. 



Back to camp we went, and after supper prepared our 

 bed of sju-uce boughs, blanket-covered, in which we lay 

 "with greater comfort," Jack said, "than last night in 

 your bed." The flowing river and murmur of waves on 

 the beach, together with our pictureequpi surroundings, 

 had aroused the jjhiloBopher and poet in Jack, and it was 

 gopie Xm^ ere m west t<> sleep, as fjuestion, suggestjorj-, 



