888 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 31, 1894. 



When we went to shore with a goodly string of bass, I 

 at once prepared to resume my search for my rod, when 

 Stephens stopped me with, "See here old man, I know 

 where your old stick is, and you'll never see it more. 

 Take this rod and many be the fish you catch therewith." 

 Tha.t is how I came in possession of my first and, up to 

 this time, only split-bamboo — all of which, has been sug- 

 gested by the inquiry of Stephens, as to using my old rod 

 the coming season. How our thoughts do rove. From 

 my room with an April snowstorm raging — a storm which 

 lasted twenty-four hours— to a camp on Isle Royal, and a 

 June snowstorm— to a midsummer trip after bass, on a 

 placid, landlocked lake, where 



"On sunny slope and beechen swell, 

 The shadowed light of evening fell. 



Myron Cooley. 



Detroit City, Minn. 



THE OUANANICHE. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I notice in your issue of the 7th inst. that Mr. A. N. 

 Cheney quotes a communication received by him from a 

 friend, who takes issue with me in my claims regarding 

 ouananiche, set forth in my article in your issue of 

 March 10. 



I have made a conscientious study of the ouananiche 

 in my own experience of six years, and have endeavored 

 to hold to exact facts in all that I have written. 



In instituting comparisons between the Canadian and 

 American landlocked salmon, I have been handicapped by 

 the fact that I have never had any experience with the 

 latter personally. Consequently I have been obliged to do 

 the next best thing, depend upon those that have. I have 

 paid no attention to hearsay, nor have I depended upon 

 the experience of any one prejudiced. I have had long 

 talks with a large number of fishermen, well known and 

 otherwise, who have caught landlocked salmon in New 

 England waters, and then have fished in the Lake St. John 

 country. I have gone into, with them, every detail of 

 the American fishing, and having secured a thorough 

 knowledge in regard to it, I write "whereof I know." 



I have yet to find a single one who has caught both fish, 

 who does not freely admit the great superiority of the 

 Canadian ouananiche. Not in size, I will admit, but in 

 their superior fighting qualities, than which nothing can 

 be greater, if perchance it can be equalled. I always note 

 too that these same fishermen never return to the Maine 

 fishing, but do to Lake St. John year after year. 



I maintain that a fish bom and bred in the swiftest run- 

 ning rapids is far stronger and a better fighter than the 

 one found in the deep waters of lakes. For comparison, 

 two young men grow up together, one enters athletics, 

 becomes strong in every muscle, able to cope with an ad- 

 versary, to withstand any amount of fatigue. He leads a 

 life of activity, his development becomes perfect, he is a 

 perfect man without superfluous flesh. His companion 

 with equal health and physique, chooses easy-going 

 sedentary habits. Without the constant exercise of an 

 athlete he becomes fleshy, and will outweigh his compan- 

 ion. He has only his weight and certain natural strength 

 to aid him in a contest, while his companion has the science 

 of tense, well developed, hardened sinews. Is there any 

 question which is the better man? Is there any question 

 which will transmit to his children the greater amount of 

 vigorous manhood? 



From the comparison made in my communication of 

 March 12 there can be no question that the Canadian 

 salmon is a much stronger fish, a much harder fighter 

 than those caught in American waters. I do not mean 

 that a 34-pound fish of Canada will outfight or even equal 

 an American cousin of 251bs— one that makes "bloodless 

 hands" and "complete nervous demoralization." (These 

 same effects I have seen, by the way, produced also in 

 catching large pickerel and maskinonge.) But, pound for 

 pound, and even with an extra allowance of weight to 

 his competitor, the ouananiche of Canada is the superior. 



As previously stated, small ouananiche, in the same 

 manner as small trout, will come to the surface of lakes 

 at evening, and can be taken on the fly, but not the 

 larger ones. The American landlocked salmon do not 

 exist under the same conditions of waters as in the Lake 

 St. John country; no one questions that. As a conse- 

 quence, they cannot be caught in the same manner in the 

 same kind of pools; and to quote from Mr. Cheney's letter 

 "environment of course modifies habits and conditions' 

 size and energies." The fish of the States does no possess 

 the environments, hence has the modified habits, size and 

 energies. 



As to the idea that "fish that spend their lives fighting 

 a turmoil of waters have no time to grow," that is a 

 witticism, not an argument. The ouananiche of Lake St. 

 John are a species of landlocked salmon peculiar to them- 

 selves, and the fact that none larger than 8 or S^lbs. have 

 been seen or caught, proves that to be their limit of 

 growth. 



I have great respect for a fish of 15, 20 or 251bs. weight, 

 whatever may be the kind; but I venerate one that has 

 fighting blood in his veins. If possessing this latter qual- 

 ity you hook him on a 7-ounce or even a 10-ounce 

 rod, no human power can bring it successfully to net 

 under three-quarters of an hour's playing or even a longer 

 time, and preserve the tackle intact. Now, if I can suc- 

 cessfully land a fish of his caliber in an hour, and one of 

 only one-quarter the weight or less in from fifteen to 

 twenty-five minutes (not just fifteen minutes, as the mis- 

 quotation from my letter states), which, I would ask, is 

 the greater fighter in proportion? Has not the smaller 

 fought more in proportion to his weight? 



The 7 jib. ouananiche shown in my book, "The Leaping 

 Ouananiche," just issued, required 55 minutes of hard 

 work to bring successfully to net. How much more in 

 proportion is this to one double or treble the weight that 

 may require one or even one and a half hours to kill? 



Give me the "minnow," the "fighting pigmy" of the 

 Grand Discharge, fighting as he does, as he will outfight 

 in proportion on a time allowance his "abnormal," over- 

 grown relative of the deep New England lakes. 



I am far from despising this latter, and would gladly 

 seek him did opportunity offer. I do not believe that it 

 has any "lesion of the fighting quality lobes," except to 

 the extent that bringing up instill waters would naturally 

 bring about. I do know that no "lesion" exists in the 

 Canada ouananiche, as its daily life in rough waters pro- 

 hibits it. As a consequence, I prefer to fish for the latter 

 in the limited fishing time at my command. 



Again, I am misquoted in saying that the ouananiche 



are "usually washed off the hook when struck in their 

 native element." I have never made this statement, but 

 such a thing is occasionally possible, and has doubtless 

 occurred, particularly if the fish, when hooked, is allowed 

 to run under a fall or across a swift rapid. As soon as 

 hooked in a rapid, I always lead my fish, where possible, 

 and it generally is, to a more quiet eddy at the side, where 

 I master him or he .masters me. Therefore, the majority 

 of my fish are played in comparatively quiet waters, and 

 their fighting is neither by or attendant upon rough 

 rapids. 



Then, also, after much study given to ouananiche fish- 

 ing, and trying all ideas that may present themselves, I 

 firmly believe that, owing to the manner in which they 

 hook in the lip, lightly, and their constant and hard fight- 

 ing, they should be led to net at the earliest moment com- 

 mensurate with safety. Hence another reason for short 

 playing. 



I still maintain as my many informants have all advised 

 me, that the landlocked salmon of New England are 

 more frequently taken on the spoon than on the fly. At 

 only certain seasons there, can they be found in rapids 

 within reach of a fly; first, because it is not the natural 

 abiding place for this fish, and again, such waters do not 

 exist in any similarity or extent with those of Lake St. 

 John. The results of fly-fishing in the States, therefore, 

 are far from satisfying except in a few very favored pools, 

 and the spoon must be called into requisition to insure 

 success. 



Finally, I would add that if my critic would try the 

 Canadian variety of landlocked salmon — ouananiche 

 proper, he would have more respect for them. He would 

 find that avoirdupois does not alone constitute gameness. 

 If the Maine salmon fought in proportion to his size, with 

 the vim of the Lake St. John fish, I doubt if tackle could 

 be made strong enough to catch it. 



Now, as to the idea of apylyingthe name ouananiche to 

 all landlocked salmon as a generic appellation, I certainly 

 can see no objection; but that there is a difference in the 

 species, as I have endeavored to prove, I must maintain. 

 From these differences it will be found that fishermen 

 seeking Canadian waters will hold to the original name, 

 ouananiche, and those seeking New England lakes will 

 still say landlocked salmon. 



As to the pronunciation of the word ouananiche, I have 

 made a special effort in the past to get it correctly, both 

 from full-blood and half-breed Montaignais Indians. I 

 find among them but little if any variance of pronouncing 

 the word. The majority pronounce it as if the first syl- 

 lable were spelled ow, and this is strongly accented. The 

 a in an following is pronounced as in father. The third 

 syllable an, a is pronounced as in man, making it ow-tin- 

 an-ish. I have heard it spoken in this way so often that 

 I find I always pronounce it in the same way myself. Be 

 that as it may, the varieties of pronunciation of the name 

 will only be equaled by the varieties of opinion regarding 

 the merits of the two species of the fish. 



So it will continue until numberless fishermen will unite 

 without controversy, in one consensus of opinion, namely, 

 that the famous ouananiche of Canada is the gamest fish 

 that swims in fresh water. Ecoene McCarthy. 



ON THE NORTH SHORE OF LAKE SUPERIOR. 



(Continued from, Page 318.) 



The morning broke beautifully over the ringing woods 

 and rippling lake, and the entire camp was astir when the 

 first soft sunbeams made the leaves glisten and the roses 

 smile. It was really a halcyon morn for our tramp, and all 

 were eager for a prompt departure to the far-away home 

 of the lovely trout. 



The Indian who was to pilot us was an early visitor, for 

 he doubtless had an eye single to the breakfast in prepara- 

 tion, to which he well knew he would be invited when the 

 half-breeds succeeded us at the table. 



I was everything but satisfied with my right knee when 

 I first arose, and the more I walked the more painful it 

 became. Despite this intense pain, I was still in humor 

 for the trip, and hurried myself with the preparations 

 while breakfast was being served. 



After we had all partaken of the meal and about ready 

 to start, I found it simply impossible to walk the three or 

 four miles to the pool; for I had now taken on a decided 

 limp, every step sending a thrill of pain through that par- 

 ticular knee that made me writhe in agony. 



"I can't go," I said to Ned when he was about to start. 



"What, not go?" 



' 'Even so," and then I pointed to my knee by way of ex- 

 planation, and taking a camp chair, seated myself on the 

 shady side of the tent, looking the very embodiment of 

 despair, Ned sympathized deeply with my affliction and 

 proposed to abandon the trip; but I would not tolerate such 

 a sacrifice. At last he reluctantly left with the Indian 

 guide and Kenosh, leaving Peter with me as chief medi- 

 cine man and custodian of the camp. 



I followed them with longing eyes until they disap- 

 peared in a grove of cedars near by, and then my mind 

 ran to that magnificent pool, weaving fanciful pictures of 

 piscatorial delights that I well knew they would realize. 

 At that immediate time I would have parted with much 

 wealth to have been with them; but prudence dictated the 

 course I had taken, so I nursed the aching knee instead of 

 playing the role of angler. 



Sighing after the unobtainable is folly, and therefore I 

 at once dismissed the idea as if it had never possessed me 

 and then taking a book was soon absorbed in its fascinat- 

 ing pages, it being a realistic narrative of a coal mine 

 strike, entitled "Nana's Brother," from the wizard pen of 

 the illustrious Zola, who has but recently won great re- 

 nown in a masterpiece called "The Downfall." 



Peter, the half-breed, in the meantime busied himself 

 mending his clothes, and after that was completed came 

 over to my tent and chatted a while, giving me a history 

 as far as he knew of the Indians on the north shore of 

 this great lake. He also intrusted me with a very import- 

 ant secret, and that was his betrothal to one of the daugh- 

 ters of the Hudson Bay agent stationed at this place. As 

 the marriage was to be consummated the second day on 

 his return to the "Soo," the veil of secrecy no longer 

 exists. 



One of our oars having been broken on our trip up the 

 river, I suggested to him now that he had time to make a 

 new one. He started off, saying he thought he could find 

 one; and sure enough he returned with one which, he 

 stated, belonged to his prospective father-in-law. I de- 

 murred to such a piece of piracy, but he laughed at me 



and said it was all right, and furthermore stated that tli^ 

 agent had borrowed a pike-pole of him last fall which 

 he had never returned, and that this was simply an offset. 



"Don't worry," said he, "I will soon be in the family 

 and it will be all right," and then on his sawing off about 

 6in. of the blade and whittling down the handle the ap- 

 propriation was made complete. 



I didn't worry about it, but gave him to distinctly un- 

 derstand that it was a highly questionable proceeding and 

 what a pale-face would style pure brigandage. 



"He's got my pike pole, I've got his oar; everything is 

 square," again muttered the stolid half-breed, who really 

 could not understand my opposition to his takiDg the oar. 

 He finally walked away, taking the oar with him and 

 humming a French chanson as he went, evidently pleased 

 with his method of balancing accounts. 



The day had developed into perfection, spreading far 

 and near a magnificent panorama which only the clear 

 sky and the golden sunshine presents without a blurr. 

 Aguawa Harbor, with its glittering breastplate of perpen- 

 dicular cliffs, was plainly in view; towering mountains 

 with peak after peak, ridge beyond ridge, valley after val- 

 ley, rested to the right of the flowing stream, while miles 

 after miles of a beautiful coast range of rocky bulwarks, 

 illustrating every variety of picturesque formation, ran 

 eastward in crescent lines till lost in the glare and glitter 

 of the bright sunlight. By joining somewhat of the poet's 

 contemplation to the artist's study, we may here see 

 glimpses of sylphic shape that o'erlook the silver spray as 

 it strikes the mighty blocks of ragged adamantine. As if 

 to give barbaric effect to all this poetic and rugged grand- 

 eur, a birch bark canoe, laden with children of the forest, 

 darts out from a cove opposite and glides up the glinting 

 stream with the little paddlers in frolicsome play. A 

 veritable old squaw, with tangled and streaming black 

 hair and repulsive mien, is attracted to the river's bank 

 by the glee of the prankish children, and then there is an 

 unmistakable recall. The canoe turns, reaches the bank 

 again, and without ceremony the youngsters are roughly 

 jerked out, the birch bark raised to the bank, and then 

 the old hag hurriedly takes the tawny brood to her tent, 

 as if fearful, in their sportive capers, the waters would 

 engulf them. 



At this juncture Peter called for the time, and as it was 

 near noon I suggested dinner, telling him to prepare what 

 he thought proper in addition to the trout, which we now 

 had in superabundance. While he was attending to the 

 preparation of the menu, I bathed my painful knee with 

 some of Pond's Extract, the only remedy I could then 

 think of as available, which, if it did not cure, might act 

 as an emollient until I could secure something more 

 active for reducing the inflammation. I now began to feel 

 that I was truly a cripple, and that wading with me was 

 one of the lost arts. 



After dinner, weary of watching the soft white clouds 

 which filled the sky, as well as depressed with the solemn 

 stillness which was broken only by the murmur of the 

 lake and the ceaseless song of the grasshoppers among 

 the weeds, I determined to have Peter take the boat and 

 row me to the first rapids with evident intent of slaughter 

 among the small fry. The half-breed, who had got into 

 a lazy humor, did not relish the idea of being disturbed 

 in his dreamy state; but as he gave no expression to the 

 revolutionary revolt within him, I gave no heed to it, 

 knowing full well that a little activity would soon awaken 

 him into a pleasant frame of mind. I almost regretted 

 going myself, for the sun was blistering hot as we glided 

 along the foliaged banks, breast high with tangles of 

 underbrush and beds of water plants. Reaching the 

 rapids I got ashore on what formed a kind of peninsula, 

 and with two small flies, one a pale evening-dun, and the 

 other a yellow-drake, both on a No. 10 Sproat, started in 

 to make sad havoc in the ranks of the little beauties that 

 sport in the rippling shallows. Much to my disgust, there 

 was little toying with the lures, but after an hour's hard 

 work in the broiling sun I secured half a dozen from 8 to 

 lOin. long. 



My object in breaking the monotony of camp isolation 

 that day being accomplished I was satisfied to return with 

 my limited string of scarlet babies and patiently await the 

 arrival of the party from the pool. 



About 4 o'clock they showed up in single-file order, 

 Ned leading with a heavy string of trout, followed by 

 Kenosh and the guide similarly loaded with the freckled 

 beauties. They had had most excellent sport and were 

 unqualified in their praise of the big pool. Although the 

 fish were not large, running from ^lb. to l^lbs., they 

 made a collection handsome enough in their spangled 

 coats of mottled dyes to win the admiration of any dis- 

 ciple of the gentle art or other who had an eye for grace- 

 ful symmetry and ravishiDg colors. 



Ned gave me a very graphic description of the wood- 

 land trip, the magnificent pool and the sport. The loca- 

 tion of the pool, he said, was wild and beautiful beyond 

 power of description. It was hemmed in by dense and 

 unmeasured forests of pine, birch and balsam, matted 

 with ferns and fallen timber and in close companionship 

 with almost impenetrable thickets, which threw their 

 bending branches and grateful shade over the rushing 

 waters that came tumbling in one wide sheet of foam into 

 a picturesque basin below, and then wildly surging and 

 fretting its way through masses of storm -worn granite 

 that were heaped in the wildest confusion in the bed of the 

 racing, roaring river. He was satisfied, he said, that after 

 he had reached its craggy and ragged edges that there 

 were concealed deep down in its rocky riffs, ledges and 

 chasms, trout galore, but he sadly felt the want of a pair 

 of wading boots or pants for the choice spots that were 

 far from the torrent-washed shore. He fished a while 

 from the bank, meeting with reasonably fair success, but 

 he sighed all the time for the little islets of rock, around 

 which the water dashed in bubbles and spray, that he 

 might further advance his fortune with the fontinalis. 



At last he struck upon a novel idea to reach the coveted 

 place, and that was upon the backs of the half-breed and 

 Indian, for being of portly frame he well knew that no one 

 person could carry him safely over the stony and slippery 

 bottom. "It was a laughable sight, but afar more serious 

 event to me," he continued, "after I was well on the way, 

 than I anticipated. We were all so full of laughter at the 

 novelty of the situation.that I was fearful every moment 

 we would all be floundering in the water. Fortunately, I 

 reached the isle of delight and then I made lamentation 

 in the domain of the spangled beauties, for here I found 

 the river a very Pactolus in golden treasures. Kenosh 

 waded into the pool up to his waist and made a capital 

 record. He threw his flies very deftly and generally let 



