Nov. 11, 1893.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



409 



Cortland County, N. Y. 



COKTLAJSID, N. Y., Nov. 3. — The weather for the past 

 month has been altogether too fine for the scoring of any- 

 thing like satisfactory bags of ruffed grouse. Local gun- 

 ners report finding the grouse in goodly numbers, but 

 claim that the birds have thus far failed to lie well, 

 flushing wild and indulging in light flights. Wm. Hart- 

 ranft, a well known field shot, tells me that a letter 

 recently received by him from a party at Harford Mills, 

 N. Y. , discloses the pleasing intelligence that a tract of 

 timber near that village, dozens of grouse of this year's 

 breeding are to be found. I also hear that good grouse 

 shooting may be had along the east shore of Cayuga Lake, 

 some twenty miles north of Ithaca. Around Little York, 

 seven miles from Cortland, a good many squirrels are 

 being bagged. The grays are plenty in the vicinity of 

 Dry den, also. With the aid of ferrets, a big rabbit 

 crop will be harvested. M. C. H. 



Home-Made Explosive Bullets. 



Tkenton, N. J., Oct. 28,-1 am not much of a deer 

 hunter, but I have killed three deer with explosive bullets 

 from a ,44 Winchester, and can give your correspondent, 

 "Sareault," Eddy, N. M., a pointer. Mould the bullet 

 with a mine in the lower end, just the size of a blank 

 pistol cartridge (.22cal.), pull out the wire and you have 

 the bullet ready to insert the .22 blank. If you wish to 

 expand, fill up the empty space with powder. If you 

 want it to explode put it in just as you get it; the open 

 space will explode it. Load the cartridge in the usual 

 way, but I would not advise filling the magaziae, although 

 I have done it several times. I would keep an explosive 

 in the barrel and solid ones in the magazine. V. P. W. 



More Snared Birds in Syracuse. 



Syracuse, N. Y. , Oct. 29. — 1 found on Saturday, in one 

 of our city markets, 12 snared partridge. About a year 

 ago this same firm had about 70 snared birds in their pos- 

 session and got out of their dilemma nicely. I have re- 

 ported my find to our local game constable by messenger 

 and am awaiting the result with great interest. Birds 

 are very scarce in this county for the very reason that we 

 have so few "men" in it. Every foreigner here owns a 

 shotgun, and I often find them with pocketsful of song 

 birds. In fact, they kill everything that moves about 

 here, in or out of season. Shall keep you posted on the 

 result of my find. Fkanklin Jno. Kaufman. 



Snipe in Ohio and Kentucky. 



Cincinnati, Oct. 29. — Snipe shooting is reported good at 

 Jones's Station , O., and along the tributaries of the Big 

 and Little Miami rivers, also m the lowlands below Fort 

 Thomas, east of Newport, Ky. The prospects for a good 

 season's sport at quail in and about here are poor. 



Wick. 



A Moose Trophy. 



The head of the moose killed by our correspondent 

 L. C. I., in the hunt so graphically described la last 

 week's Fobest and Stream, is now being mounted by 

 Fred Sauter, the taxidermist, at his shop on North AVil- 

 liam street. 



Another Musevun Moose. 



Mb. J. Rowley, Jk., of the American Museum of 

 Natural History, in this city, has just secm-ed on a hunt- 

 ing trip in New Brunswick a bull moose, which was re- 

 quired to complete a group of seven, mounted for the 

 museum. 



Siunmer Homes. 



A BEAHTrnjiiLY illustrated book; list o£ over 3,000 summer hotels 

 and boarding houses in Catskill Mountains and central New York. 

 Send six cents in stamps to H. B. Jagoe, Gen'l Eastern Passenger 

 Agent, West Shore R. R., 363 Broadway, New Y^ork, or free upon 

 axjplication.— 



^r(d ^iv^r fishing. 



OUANANICHE AS GAME FISH. 



Wellsvilo;, N. Y., Oct. 31. — Editor Forest and Stream: 

 Some time ago I read in your columns an article from the 

 pen of Robert C. Lowery, of New York, in which he 

 touched on ouananiche fishing in the waters around Lake 

 St. John, Quebec, with adverse criticism as to their fight- 

 Lag qualities, and their right to far-fame for gaminess 

 and pluck. 



During the last week of July and the first weeks of 

 August of this year, the Rector and I, with four Indian 

 guides and two canoes started from Pointe Bleue, on Lake 

 St. John, on a ten days' outing up the Ashuapmouchuan 

 and through Lakes Pemoka, Brochet, Plonger, Clair and 

 Lac a Jeune to the Wassiemska. down which we pro- 

 ceeded to the Llistassini, tirrning up the latter river to the 

 first cascade above the junction of the two streams, from 

 which we journeyed down the Mistassini and across to 

 Roberval Hotel, where we were staying. 



Our first handling of ouananiche, a fish I had heard of 

 in recent years, was at Chute a L'Oure, on the Ashuapmou- 

 chuan, a mass of tumbling, roaring water, and extremely 

 picturesque. 



The guide paddled me to a point of rock between two 

 falling bodies of water, where the mist from the falls 

 rained down on one in a drenching shower, and the roar 

 of the cataract was deafening. 



I was provided with a 7oz. ash and lancewood rod, 

 and two J ock-Scott flies on a 6ft. leader. Stepping out on 

 a slippery rock constantly submerged by the dashing 

 waves, I threw a 30ft. line across the white, foaming 

 "brou," and as the swift current caught it, I let out 13 to 

 15ft. more, so as to reach solid water where the fish could 

 see the fly. No sooner was the line taut down stream 

 and I had raised my arm to make the flies skip, than a 

 fish struck with such vigor that I almost fell off the rock in 

 my surprise, so taken aback was I at the sudden challenge, 

 when I had meant my first cast more as a preliminary 

 wetting of the fine than witli serious intent. Up went a 

 S-pounder 2ft. in the air, 4:0ft. distant, with head and t^il 



together, and falling back into the water, with a rush he 

 ran down stream until checked, then another wild leap 

 and he came straight toward the rock on which I was 

 standing. I pressed the spring of the automatic reel, 

 taking up the slack as fast as he gave me the line. When 

 he stopped, I held him to see what he would do next. He 

 went down, drawing the point of the rod under, until I 

 feared he was making for a crevice in the rock, where 

 the line would be cut. 



Putting a strain on him, the line slacked up so quickly 

 I thought he had vanished. Instead, to my astonish- 

 ment, he appeared in front of me 2ft. in the air, and at 

 that moment I heard in the rear an emphatic "sacre" 

 from the guide, who had been watching the mad capers 

 of the ouananiche. The latter again took the hook and 

 line and ran down stream, giving one more leap when I 

 put the strain on him. Testing the strength of rod and 

 tackle against his indomitable efforts to escape, I held 

 him as he fought his way inch by inch, and stepped back 

 to the main rock. The guide took the landing net, not 

 large enough, I found, for ouananiche, and endeavored to 

 push it under him, but his dashes hither and thither pre- 

 vented his capture at once. At last he was in the net 

 straggling for dear life. Jim, fearing he would escape, 

 by a quick movement turned the net over on the fish , 

 grabbing both with his two hands against the slipptry 

 rock. A fierce scramble, four distinct images — ^the guide, 

 the net, a line with hooks dangling, a fish floundering off 

 the rock into the water — and my first ouananiche was 

 caught and lost. He gained his freedom with a brave 

 pertinacity that won my admiration and tempered disap- 

 pointment at his loss. I thought of Mr. Lowery's stricture 

 on ouananiche and decided that at least one individual of 

 the species had redeemed his tribe from the charge of 

 being, as a fish worthy of one's skill, "flat, stale and un- 

 profitable." We caught seven that forenoon, ranging 

 from 5 to 81bs. in w^eight, and the Rector, who is quite 

 critical on the subject of gamy fish, concluded that he 

 had seldom more enjoyed a tussle with the finny tribe, 

 admitting frankly that the ouananiche had fully sustained 

 his reputation as a fighter of the first order. 



When we left the Chute a L'Ours next day, we had 

 brought to land fifteen fish, and had lost about six more 

 from "pure cussedness" on their part, and the possession 

 of only one small net between us. We improvised a 

 somewhat crude gaff from two large bait hooks fastened 

 to the end of a straight bough, not having considered it 

 necessary to bring with us a salmon gaff left at the hotel, 

 but which next time we tackle the ouananiche we shall 

 certainly add to our outfit. 



Seeing a fin showing above a swirl of foam that was 

 going round and round among the eddies, breaking up 

 into small flakes and again uniting in one large sheet, 

 circling in wide sweeps above the turbulent waters^ we 

 got into the canoe and paddled within casting distance of 

 the swirling "brou," A fin rising, by a quick cast the 

 line was thrown across the direction he was going in. 

 The flies sank beneath the foam, the line straightened, 

 and I had him. A vigorous leap, another and yet an- 

 other, and Jim's stoicism gave way with a shout of ap- 

 proval. He don't flght, eh? How's that, Jim? Just look 

 at him. Away he goes with the fine, leaping into the air 

 seven times by count. He keeps one busy at the reel and 

 —but where is he? He is making straight for the bottom 

 if there is any, and like a flash he is coming toward us, 

 and under the canoe he goes, taking line and rod with 

 him. Zip! Swish! Seated as I was with my back close to 

 the prow, with the right hand the rod was thrust behind 

 and caught with the left on the side he came out on, on 

 the wa}' skyward for the last time. He must have sneered 

 a good-bye, "When shall we three meet again?" as I reeled 

 in a slack line, and nary a ouananiche. This happened 

 more than once. "To the victor belongs the spoil," and 

 the ouananiche when you catch him. 



Once two were hooked at one cast. It was ' 'the part- 

 ing of the ways," they with a hook each, and I minus 

 two. One lying in the bottom of the canoe took French 

 leave over the side as if shot from a spring-board. They 

 fight like black bass to which alone I give the palm, 

 weight for weight, and they accept defeat with a bad 

 grace. Mr. Lowery must be a blase fisherman, seeking 

 unusual novelty in Waltonic pursuits, somewhat resem- 

 bling a gentlemen we met at Roberval, whose present 

 mission in the world seemed to be a continual search 

 after new experiences. 



In Lac a Jeune we trolled' instead of using fly, and in 

 that peaceful abode of plenty the ouananiche get too well 

 fed and flabby, for want of the "sti-tiggle for existence," 

 to which are fated his more muscular, finer fellows of the 

 seething, troubled waters of the wilder cascade. They 

 lack in vigor and obstinacy. 



Our ti'ip to the ouananiche country was one that will 

 live in ovir memory as of the most enjoyable we could 

 well have projected, and the Rector returned to Scotland 

 fully resolved to "repeat the dose." The guides were ex- 

 cellent fellows, and Fred Philhp one of the best and jol- 

 liest of the crew. 



Shooting the rapids of the Wassiemska and "Mr. 

 Sweeney" on our way down was highly exhilarating and 

 fraught with constant danger of a capsize, but in the 

 hands of our experienced canoemen we missed the adven- 

 ture and enjoyed the excitement. We shall count the 

 days until we again renew our acquaintance with the St. 

 John country and our worthy foes — the ouananiche. 



Wlltjam Bruce. 



Fis hing at English Lake. 



Engush Lookout, La., Oct. 23. — ^Through the kind in- 

 vitation of Mr. P. Mallard, member of the Marshall Fish- 

 ing Club, situated here and on the L. & N. R. R., your 

 correspondent accepted the pleastu-e of a day's sport last 

 Saturday, which resulted in a very good catch, counting 

 46 green trout (black bass), 9 redfish, 11 sheepshead, 12 

 croakers and 5 speckled trout. 



Mr. ilallard was not only entertaining dm-ing our trip, 

 but proved himself quite an expert at rod and reel fish- 

 ing; his casting was very pretty and done with great 

 skill. 



There are three clubs at this point, all within a throw 

 of each other, situated 40 mUes from New Orleans. Their 

 members are of the best men found in the city, and all 

 jolly good feUowg. 



Good catches were made by every one. Among those 

 who are known to have made good strings were Messrs, 

 B. F, Glover, E. Dupre, Muster and Capt. King, 



Anodbac. 



BARNEY'S POOL. 



Why it was called Barney's Pool no one — not even the 

 oldest inhabitant— could tell. Certainly any other name 

 would have been as appropriate. Deadman's Pool, Dis- 

 mal Pond or Dreary Swamp much more so, for a more 

 desolate, weird, dreary place it would be hard to imagine. 



But he who would fish successfully in B, Lake must 

 occasionally visit the same Barney's Pool, for at certain 

 spots in the pool — spots well known to the old fishermen 

 — were gravel beds over which minnows fairly swarmed. 

 Here the very choicest bait for muskallonge could be 

 found in the greatest abundance. Often and often have 

 I filled my minnow pails with the most tempting bait in 

 an incredibly short time, but I think I can say it was 

 always with a sense of relief that I closed the lids, pulled 

 up my anchor and left the desolate spot. 



Never shall I forget my first visit to Barney's Pool and 

 the adventure which followed it. It was a hot day early 

 in September, hot, close and sultry, not a breath of air 

 stirred the leaves; B. Lake lay Uke a vast heated mirror, 

 not a ripple disturbed its surface. The sun was fairly 

 scorching and seemed to dry up the grass it touched. 

 All the morning John and I had fished with very fair 

 success and noon found our minnow pail almost empty. 

 We had eaten dinner in the woods at the north end of 

 the lake and were enjoying a quiet after-dinner smoke. 



"John," said I, "what shall we do this afternoon? It's 

 too hot to go on the lake before 6 o'clock and it's now 

 only 3, We have three hours on our hands to dispose of." 



"Well," answered John, "I think we had better go 

 after bait or we'll not have enough for this evening's 

 fishing. A little way from here there's a creek comes 

 down through these woods. By rowing up it we can get 

 to Barney's Pool, and there we can soon get bait enough 

 to last us two or three days. " 



A half hour later we were afloat again on the lake and 

 a short pull brought us to the mouth of the creek, into 

 which John shot the boat. 



It was a deep, sluggish stream, running, or rather lying 

 dead, under the trees, for current it seemingly had none. 

 The bushes and trees grew so thick on its banks that the 

 little sunlight finding its way through the leaves fell in a 

 pale, sickly light. 



The water was black, dead, gloomy looking — decaying 

 logs, fallen treetops, rushes and reeds obstructed the 

 channel. The air was damp and filled with the odor of 

 decaying wood and leaves. Numerous black-backed tur- 

 tles slipped off" the logs at our approach and glided out of 

 sight, l3urytng themselves in the murky darkness of the 

 water. 



After following all the curvings and windings of the 

 stream for possibly a mile, we pushed our way through a 

 thick growth of rushes and found om-selves on a small 

 pool of water, 



"This is Barney's Pool," said John, 



It would be difficult to describe my sensations on first 

 beholding this pool. There was a sense of loneliness, of 

 dreaminess, that entered with the very air one breathed . 

 A feeling of depression came over me that was impossible 

 to shake off. 



The pool lay dark even in the full daylight. Its waters 

 black like the stream we had followed. Shores it had 

 none, but the black water seemed to lose itself in loug, 

 rank weeds, out of which rose tall, lifeless, barkless tree 

 trunks, like grim skeletons guarding the desolate spot. 



The pool seemed surrounded by a vast swamp, save at 

 one spot where a little knoll appeared a few feet above 

 the water, and on this knoll stood the remains of an old 

 log cabin. Old, deserted, neglected, it but added to the 

 weixdness of the scene. 



When we left the lake the sun was shining. When we 

 reached the pool great clouds had covered the sky, flashes 

 of lightning were seen in the west and low rumblings of 

 distant jihunder indicated the approach of the storm that 

 had been gathering all day. 



A few pulls of the oars and John proceeded to drop the 

 anchor, announcing that we were over one of the gravel 

 beds, and we got ready our minnow lines, and the work 

 of fishing for minnows soon absorbed our attention. For 

 some reason the minnows refused to bite, although John 

 assured me "there were thousands of them in there," 

 and later experience proved he knew whereof he spoke. 

 At the end of a half hour we had caught but three; we 

 moved to another spot with no better success. It began 

 to look discouraging. 



In the meantime the storm was approaching, the 

 flashes of lightning were more frequent, the thunder 

 louder; a sudden gust of wind recalled us to the fact that 

 we had better seek shelter. 



"John," I said, "get up your anchor and let us pull for 

 that old hut," and it was time, for scarcely had we got- 

 ten inside the old ruins when the rain came down in tor- 

 rents. Fortunately we found one corner of the cabin pro- 

 tected by a remaining portion of the roof, and here we 

 had to remain for three mortal hours listening to the rain 

 beating on the outside. 



Finally it ceased, ceased almost as suddenly as it began; 

 and we ventm-ed out of our prison, only to flnd night fast 

 approaching. 



This was an xinexpected turn to our adventure. We 

 had not anticipated spending the night at Barney's Pool, 

 but here night was almost upon us, and how dark it 

 would be down that stream. It would be almost impos- 

 sible to find our way in the darkness through all the wind- 

 ings of the httle creek, and even if we did succeed in get- 

 ting back to the lake a strong wind was blowing up it, so 

 that it would be difiicult, even dangerous, to attempt to 

 cross it. There was nothing for us but to remain where 

 we were. 



"John," I said, "I guess we'U have to spend the night 

 here." 



"Yes, I guess so," he answered, "and I would a good 

 deal rather not." 



"Why, John?" I asked. "Of course, it's not the pleas- 

 antest place in the land, but we have spent nights in a 

 great deal worse places. We can find enough dry boards 

 in the corner to sleep on, and it'll not be the first night I 

 have slept, and slept well, on boards," 



"I am not bothered about the sleeping," he answered, 

 "but I would rather be almost anywhere else. Don't you 

 know, Mx. Sherman, they say this hut is haunted. They 

 say there was a man killed here once, and that he haunts 

 the place, and that strange hghts are seen here at night, 

 and — " 



Just then a terrific clap of thunder interrupted John, 

 and another splashing shower coming on we were driven 



