March 31, 1894.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



27B 



" That reminds me." 



THE LAST OF THE STRETCH SNAKES. 



"Hol' on er bitl" Lighthouse Charley emerged from 

 the cavernous depths of his old green "gre't co't" and 

 held up a deprecating hand. Treat Clark had been pain- 

 fully spelling out a half column account of a savage prize 

 fight in an adjoining county, at the end of which, the 

 reporter, warming up to his subject, declared, "Thus 

 ended a famous battle, one long to be remembered in the 

 annals of the grandest form of contest on earth — between 

 two human beings with bare fists to the finish!" Ejacu- 

 lations of ''Thet's so, ber gosh!" and " En he ain' very fur 

 wrong thar nuther!" came from the expectoratorial 

 targeteers who had been decorating the stove to a con- 

 siderable extent during this enthralling narrative. 



"Twa'n't ter enny ways compare with ther hookin' er 

 them two bull pups daown to Stratford Pint las' Fast Day, 

 I'll bet er wad er money!" put in Eph Sandford, the 

 doubting disciple, "why, them dawgs ud er bin chawin' 

 yit ef thet infaxnal, dad-blasted, flap-eared ol' Dawson 

 had'en er yelled 'p'lice'!" 



"Arfther all Oi doan't know that onny uv yees his iver 

 sane a rale schrimmidge," interrupted Pat Nolan, surrep- 

 titiously refilling his yellow clay pipe from the box 

 behind the counter under cover of the argument, "that is 

 onny er yees that misht ther foight b'twane Larry Mc- 

 Bride's owld gold bantam an' Barney Craven's silver 

 whoite lasht Sotherday evenin', be ther howly face av ther 

 praste, thim wor r'yul boyds! Whoy, yees hav' no cra- 

 ohures on this side er ther big salt drink thot kin foight." 

 Just here Lighthouse Charley woke up with a last violent 

 snore, and snatching an idea of the controversy, promptly 

 took a hand. 



"Hol' on er bit," said he, rubbing his eyes and blinking, 

 "thar may be er good many kin's er fights an' er heap er 

 diffrunce er 'pinion 'bout 'em, but when all's done an' said 

 ther cre'tur' ain' been born yit ter outmaneuver er git 

 aroun' er reel clever snake. Er snake wuz tu much fer 

 ther fust man an' woman thet ever breathed on airth, an' 

 they've kep'. on bein' tu much ever sence. Fac' is, they're 

 sech er plaguey sight smarter 'n other things, that ther 

 am' no km' er struggle when they tackle hold; but yer let 

 one snake grab ernuther an' then, says I, thar's er skirmish 

 ter make ther Pope git down off his gilt throne en holler 

 'Bully!' Thar ain' anuther livin' cre'tur', whether man, 

 bird, fish er reptile, betwixt sunrise en sunset thet kin 

 twist horns with Mister Sarpint. An' speakin' er snakes 

 fightin' 'minds me er sumpin. I see the wust tussle last 

 Sunday er week thet ever I did. Awful 'twas!" 



The old man assumed an awed expression, as if the 

 mere recollection overpowered him, and relapsed into 

 silence. Every one was regarding him anxiously, for 

 Lighthouse Charley was recognized as an authority on 

 snakes, and his observations on curious species were care- 

 fully treasured up and passed from one to another of the 

 villagers. Invariably he fell into this state of apathy after 

 he had awakened peculiar interest in some new story, and 

 it had been discovered years ago that nothing save a good 

 blood-stirring drink could arouse him to a talking mood 

 , or refresh his failing memory. 



"Phwat wuz yez erboot to obsarve, Misther Baldwin, 

 aboot ther snaix yez wuz spakin' uv?" ventured Pat, study- 

 ing the label on a starch box with well-feigned interest. 



Only the asthmatic ticking of the clock broke the still- 

 ness. The student of snake life had apparently resumed 

 his slumber. With a despairing glance at Eph, Pat, who 

 was devoured by curiosity and could not have waited five 

 minutes more, called: 



"Hoi! Misther Gregory, could yez be sittin' oot er small 

 glash of rye for Misther Baldwin an' mesilf ?" 



Gregory dropped his painful mathematical chore of 

 adding up the daybook and brought from the little trian- 

 gular cupboard a yellow-glass bottle and two small tum- 

 blers with badly broken edges. If the onlookers thought 

 the cheering music of clinking glass would awaken the 

 sleeper they underestimated the art of the venerable sage. 

 Not until he had been called several times did it even 

 dawn on him that anyone had spoken, and after that on 

 account of his deafness it had to be explained to him that 

 he was invited to take a drop of cheer. After a murmur 

 of protest he submitted and, strangely enough, heard 

 Pat's purposely low-toned query of "Wather in yours 

 Misther Baldwin?" and started up a prompt "No!" that 

 caused just a shadow of a smile to play across the Irish- 

 man's face. After a preliminary sip he renewed his in- 

 quiry, vigorously stirring his grog: 



"Yez wuz soyin erboot thot snaix foight yez obsarved," 

 with a wink at Eph's younger brother, who was purloin- 

 ing a few very dry prunes during Gregory's absence on a 

 trip to the cellar for molasses. And by the way. these 

 journeys to the nether world were invariably times of 

 universal depredation, and even the short measure that 

 the conservative Gregory took care to give in the dark 

 barely equalled his unconscious losses above board. 



"So I wuz, so I wuz," Lighthouse Charley admitted, 

 with some reluctance. "What wuz I a-sayin'? Oh yes 

 hum! hum! Awful, thet fight, awful!" Pat, seeing that 

 a lapse of memory was imminent, sighed and refilled the 

 empty glass. 



"It's loike pourin' wather intu er bothomless pot, sure, 

 Mother Baldwin, fur me ter thry ter kape thish glash 



"You rec'lec' ther ole foundations en' timbers thet he 

 down ter ther junction er Mill Race Brook en the Wepa- 

 wang, whar Beman's ole gris' mill oncet wuz?" Light- 

 house Charlie was under full sail now, and did not wait 

 for the nods of assent. "Wal, en' und'neath them j'ists 

 en' wheels thar's bin ever sence I cum' on ther stage er 

 fam'ly er all fired remarkerbul snakes, en I very much 

 daoubt ef enny er yer ever seen one on 'em, even Eph 

 thar, thet fishes the brook reg'lar when ther trout 'gin ter 

 flip in ther April days. Yit et's more'n er score er years 

 gone now thet I faoun' them dark green divils livin' thar. 

 En er loose pile er broken wood en mortar wuz the'r den, 

 en thar er warm day t'werds noon time yer could allers 

 spy 'em et play er f eedin' ef yer wuz quiet-like en' still. 

 No wonderment ter me 't er slashin', kersplashin', per- 

 shxshin' cuss like Eph never seen 'em. 'Tarnal s'prise' ez 

 't he kin ever git er smell er fishmakin' sech er raow long- 

 stream." 



The old man paused to cast a severe glance in Eph's 

 direction, but Eph with his eyes half closed was appar- 



ently unconscious. The fact was, owing to a shortage in 

 funds, that sportsman had not been able to "call aout" a 

 glass of whisky for the snake historian of late and hence 

 the mild rebuke. "But then lordy-me, enny yawpin' 

 school gal kin ketch these yer 'hand, traout' leetle min- 

 ners thet's on'y fit fer bait fer er decent fish," pursued the 

 old man with contempt. "Some er these dark nights, 

 Pat, my boy, ther ole man '11 take yer aout en show yer 

 wher' ther parients er Eph's traout live. But ter git back 

 ter these snake. 'Twarn't ther purty green shiny cut with 

 red specks en, ner ther yeller eyes ez big ez er York shil- 

 lin' thet flickered en burned some like fire thet wuz ther 

 s'prisement 'baout 'em. - Yer might well git ter garpin' w'en 

 I tell yer they wuz stretch snakes!" 



"Howly Mither ! Phwat, a stritch snaix?" gasped young 

 Nolan, letting his underjaw drop in uncontrollable aston- 

 ishment. 



"Stretch snakes they wuz, jes' the samey," proceeded 

 the oracle, moistening his lips with an unctuous smack, 

 "en more'n thet, they e'u'd stretch ter beat enny livin' er 

 dead thing thet wuz ever pulled aouten ets natrii length 

 er thickness. Menny er time I've seed 'em er feedin' by 

 ther brook with jes' ther tip er ther tails lef en ther bur- 

 row waoun' raoun' er beam so 's ter hol' like death 'tself , 

 stretchin' 'way aout, ter twelve, yis, bergobberswang, I've 

 seed 'em reach sixteen feet goin' fer er frog er one er 

 these lizard-creepers. Course the natrii size warn't more'n 

 three feet long en er inch thick, but this reachin' more'n 

 made 'em ekal ter er seven-foot moc'sin er black snake. 

 Enny other snake thet cum by en picked er row wuz done 

 fur. No more'n he'd git huffy 'n he felt hisself grabbed 

 en drawn enter this burrer like er rope walk hed tuck him 

 'fore he c'u'd spell letter S with his tail. Somehaow, 

 though, this yer climate didn't do well fur these stretchers. 

 They kin' er died off en petered aout tell ther warn't las' 

 year on'y one lef, er slappin' big chap, nearly four foot 

 long, thet what long er practicin' all these years en er 

 natrii born genius fur extendin' hisself, got so he c'u'd 

 fa'rly lengthen aout ter twenty-five foot. I b'lieve ez er 

 solum fac' thet thet cuss c'u'd reach from Sunday after- 

 noon er this week plum enter Saterday night er week 

 arter next." 



Another libation and following smack of appreciation 

 from the gray-haired keeper of the inland "lighthouse," 

 who seemed to be seriously affected by his recollections of 

 this serpentine marvel. 



"Yis, thet wuz his gre't fortee like, this lettin' hisself 

 aout, but all ther same et wuz longer this yer same 'lastic 

 trick thet he cum ter grief las' Sunday a week. Yer see 

 all these years diff'runt kin's o' snake champiowns hed 

 tried ter daown these chaps er some er the biggest er the 

 lot hed cum plaguey near doin' it. But thet 'pull in' biz- 

 ness hed allers so tuck ther breaths erways thet they 

 warn't good fer nothin' when they landed en ther burrer. 

 Then too late years this yer ole stretcher rigged up er 

 couple er stones close tergither wedged tight en ther 

 maouth er ther den so 's when he drew back on thet 'snap' 

 game er his'n he yanked ther poor divil he'd grabbed 

 'tween these sharp edges en did him hifalutin' quick. Yit 

 when er feller's pridin' hisself on sech er dog-blasted keen 

 bit er wisdom, some other man's allers layin' awake nights 

 thinkin' how ter bust his kertrapshun. En over en the 

 wilier-shoots cross ther Mill Race ther lived er leetle 

 stumpy water-moccasin thet wuz xio fool, nuther, tho' he 

 hedn't enny store clo'es ner enny top-notch tricks. Fur 

 weeks he's bin er lyin' guiled up en er heap top er ther flat 

 rock en ther stream whar the sun wuz hot. Other folks 

 might er thought he wuz jes' er swimmin' er sleepin' but I 

 seed his tail kerwaggle ev'ry now en agin en when er snake 

 does thet he's layin' powder- trains und'neath somthin'. Yit 

 nothin' turned up till las' Sunday er week. I wuz sittin' on 

 ther wes' bank er ther main stream whittlin' aout er new 

 ax halve when I see ther cute leetle moc'sin cum slidin' 

 aout'n ther wilier clump en dive en. He swum und'r 

 water tell he got mos' ter t'other shore en then cum up 

 ter take er squint. Ther stretch snake wuz layin' short- 

 wise front er ther burrer, blink erin' his eyes en rollin' 

 over so's ter show up his el'gant suit er clo'es en ther 

 sunlight. All 't once he caught sight er this leetle gray 

 snake makin' imperdent signs at him en kin' er darin' 

 him ter fight. The small feller hed clumb ashore en wuz 

 in the line er er big kerwallopin' strong hick'ry tree 

 nearly twenty foot off from the burrer. That wuz all 

 suffisbunt fur Mr. Stretch; aout he shot, en ez t'other 

 snake dodged he follered him like lightnin' raoun' ther 

 treo en raoun' ergin 'fore he cud grab him. Ther little 

 fighter hed tuck er turn raoun' er root en then the Injun 

 rubber man snake 'gun ter draw en. Thar he wuz, one 

 end wrapped raoun' er beam en tied en er hard knot (fact 

 guess 't had growed so sence 'twas tied, no one cud er 

 unloosed it), en t'other double lapped raoun' er twenty- 

 year-ole hick'ry tree. Course 'twas like you er me playin' 

 tug-er-war long er one er these yer forty-ton steam bull- 

 gines, en ther more nothin' give way ther more thet 

 snake made his muscles jump. Don' need no prophut 

 ter tell ther rest. Las' he giv' sech a dad-flung, scatter- 

 blotted ole pull thet he broke hisself plum en two en died 

 er agonizin' death. I kin fa'rly see ther smile er 

 triumphus thet ther moc'sin hed on when he onwrapped 

 himself en swum off ter his fav'rite rock, Thar he 

 guiled up en snoozed, en ev'ry now en agin he'd kin' er 

 put his head with his tail en say, "Thet settles em fer 

 good, ole boy." 



Lighthouse Charley seeing that no more spirituous 

 moisture was at hand, rose and buttoned up his woolly 

 wrapping, preparatory to departure. 



"Look yeah, Misser Baldwin," interjected 'Jedge' 

 Spence, a dilapidated ex-slave, black as pitch and bent as 

 a pine knot, "whar kin er po' man -like me see one dem 

 won'ful snaixes yo' bin tellin' us er stratche story ob?" A 

 doubtful smile played across the old negro's scarred face. 



"Enny body but er nigger would er listened en heered 

 me say thet that wuz ther 'las' er ther stretch snakes!" 

 With which parting words the outer door slammed and 

 the old man was gone. H. Prescott Beach. 



ANGLING NOTES. 



CHAINED 



to Business? 

 Can't go Shooting? 

 Do the next best thing- 

 Read the 



Forest and Stream. 



Smolts. 



Mb. John Mow at, of Campbellton, N. B., writes me 

 again about the smolts, and little by little we may come 

 to a better, truer understanding of the full history of the 

 salmon, and reconcile conditions which now, apparently, 

 contradict one another when observed in different coun- 

 tries or different waters. Mr. Mowat's letter is eminently 

 practical and is as follows: "I read with pleasure your 

 notes in Forest and Stream of Feb, 24 on the age and 

 growth of salmon, about which there is such a, diversity 

 of opinion held by what seems to be tangible proof 

 Much of this could be explained, I think, if climatic con 

 ditions and locality were properly considered. For 

 instance, take a river with fairly clear water, gravelly 

 bottom and shelving banks, where the water close to the 

 shore is warmed by the sun and seldom touches the 

 freezing point, and having in it a large supply of insecl 

 life. Take another stream without these favorable con 

 ditions, and having a solid girdle of ice on its surfac 

 and in places frozen to the bottom. Would not the 

 young fry become smolts possibly in six months in one 

 case, while in the other it might take eighteen months, 

 as is the case in our Northern ■ rivers, thus making it 

 nearly two years from the laying of the egg until the 

 fry becomes a perfect smolt? 



"It is possible some parr may be hindered in growth* 

 from some cause, and remain for another year in fresh 

 water. My attention was drawn to this by catching some 

 smolts much larger than common; they were probably 

 9 or lOin. long, and on examination as to their extra full- 

 ness I found the milk ovaries full, something I never 

 found in the common smolt. The question arises, had 

 they been to sea, if so, how long? One of the reasons 

 why I imagine they had been to sea is this:- We believe 

 the descending December smolts return as grilse the fol- 

 lowing July, weighing from 3 to 41ba. , and so far as I have 

 observed, all of them males, some years more, some less; 

 in some rivers they are plentiful, -in some rivers there are 

 none. 



"It is possible, however, in rivers where the fish run 

 small, say an average of lOlbs., that females of 61bs. 

 weight will give spawn, but in all my piscicultural experi- 

 ence of 10 years I never saw a female under lOlbs., and 

 the grilse were all males, forcing me to the conclusion 

 that the females remain nearly two years at sea before 

 returning to fresh water. 



"Regarding experiments in the growth of the young 

 salmon, you mention smolts one and two years old being 

 about the same size. This may be perfectly true and to 

 my mind can be easily accounted for. 



"Let each of us take 100 eggs of the same hatch, you 

 keep yours in water from 33 to 40°, and I place mine in 

 water at from 60 to 65°, and I will have the young fish 

 feeding with the sac absorbed, and yours will not be out 

 of the eggs — this I know from actual experiment. I have 

 seen ova from Fraser River salmon taken in October, and 

 brought overland here fully eyed in November. Placed 

 in the troughs the fry would burst the shell in January, 

 and in April they would be an inert mass on the bottom 

 with the sacs still attached. Our eggs of the salar, are 

 laid down Nov. 1, and about the first week in May the fry 

 are clear of the shell; if the weather is fine and the snow 

 water gone they will wiggle around quite lively; should a 

 frosty week come, then it seems to take the vitality out of 

 them and they look as if they feel the cold, huddling in 

 heaps, so they often have to be moved to prevent their 

 smothering. This is caused by the water getting 2 or 3° 

 colder. 



"I should^certainlyj.think the salmon you mention, taken 

 in the lower Hudson at 1 and l^lbs. were older than 

 eighteen months, or had, some time, got a taste of salt 

 water. 



"Respecting the young salmon taken last fall in the lake 

 that I spoke of, the two largest taken were some of the 

 product of 500 fry only, which my son placed there in 

 June, 1891, consequently they were about 2+ years in the 

 lake. The smaller ones, of which a dozen were taken, 

 being about 3in, shorter than the others, and about fib. in 

 weight, were planted in June, 1892. In this lake are very 

 fine trout, plenty of them, and averaging l^lbs. in weight. 

 It also contains fresh- water smelt and chubs. The water 

 is not clear, although there is a good deal of gravelly bot- 

 tom. We are watching with much interest the results of 

 this little stocking now that we are assured of its success. 



"I may say further on this smolt question that I think 

 ours when going to sea will average about 7in. in length, 

 but remember that our salmon are big fellows. Would it 

 follow in the family, do you think, that the smolts would 

 be above the average size? Who knows? At all events it 

 is a reason." 



Comments. 



The smolt that I mentioned in Forest and Stream as 

 giving ripe milt as I took it from the hook, had not been 

 to salt water. I caught it in the brook where I planted 

 the fry, and between that stream and the sea are three 

 f alls and a number of dams, not one of which could smolt 

 or salmon reascend after once passing down over them. 

 This smolt was even more advanced than the one men- 

 tioned by Mr. Mowat, for the milt was ripe and the time 

 was October. The ripe smolt was on the gravel where 

 there was a rapid in the brook, and it was quite by chance 

 that I cast my fly where he got it; for all the best of the 

 young salmon in the brook appeared to be in quiet pools, 

 and it was from such pools that I caught the others men- 

 tioned. It is possible that had I fished, the rapids other 

 ripe smolts would have been taken. 



That Mr. Mowat's reasoning, based npon theoretical 

 conditions of temperature for retarding or advancing the 

 growth of young salmon, is sound, there can be no doub 

 except that he does not go far enough and lay stress upo 

 food as a factor most favorable to growth, although foo 

 naturally results from the conditions of sunshine an 

 warmth. This is illustrated in a marked manner in a 



* Not only possible, but an established fact. I planted one lot 

 yearling Atlantic salmon (they were really about 15 months o 

 hatched from the same lot of eggs and reared together, and th 

 ranged in length from under 3in. to o-ver 6in. I went with a carlo 

 of yearling California salmon to plant them in Vermont for the U. 

 Eisn Commission. They were really 11 months old, and though 

 reared together, there was the same difference in lenprth as in 

 salar. The strongest fry got the most food, and their growth w 

 more rapid. A* N. 



