198 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[March 1, 18Sj6. 
Iowa Game. 
Sioux City, la. , Feb. 24 — In walking along the streets 
of Sioux City to day I had my attention called to the 
titter contempt shown to game laws. In front of two of 
the principal restaurants of the city and situated in the 
most public streets were large signs advertising the fact 
that they would and were serving prairie chicken, and in 
one of them was an additional sign advertising quail as 
being on the day's bill of fare. It looks as if the State 
protective associations could do a little good work here if 
so minded. W. R. Hall. 
Nrvada, la., Feb. 17 —Editor Forest and Stream: This 
has been ore of the finest winters ever known in Iowa. 
All game has wintered nicely. Prairie chickens, of which 
Iherevcas an unusually large number last year in this 
vicinity, have not been shot nor trapped so much as in 
past winters. Quail would be quite plenty in a few years 
i' they vt ere not hunted out of season. Game laws in 
this part of Iowa are not respected in the least. I have 
Ri en both quail and prairie chickens on sale in our mar- 
kets this winter. 
There is very little timber in Story county, yet there are 
more wolves here than there were twenty years ago, not 
the small prairie wolves, but big, fierce-looking timber 
wolves. Along East Indian Creek, about three miles east 
of this city, the farmers find it almost impossible to raise 
poultry on account of the depredations of these sly rob- 
bers. George Chapman, who lives about seven miles 
northeast of town, says that he has quit trying to raise 
turkeys, for the wolves caught them faster than he could 
raise them. It seems strange that wolves should multiply 
in a country so thickly settled. 
Rabbits are very numerous, and as many of them "hole 
up" in the tiling which underlies most of our farms, there 
is not much danger of them becoming very scarce. Even 
the man with a ferret cannot get them in tile drains, which 
are sometimes a mile in length. 
If one can judge from the present outlook, we will have 
the best chicken shooting next fall that we have had for 
years. 
The more I read Forest and Stream the better I like 
it, and surely no "Western sportsman can help but enjoy 
the department edited by E. Hough, "Chicago and the 
West." John C. Briggs. 
Spring Shooting'. 
I think that one of the most important and effectual 
things that could be done for the protection of ducks in 
the spring would be to have a United States law by which 
the season would be brought to a close all over the coun- 
try at the same time. Of course this law would not pre- 
vent a State from making an amendment by which the 
shooting in that State could be stopped before the date on 
which the national law came into effect. 
As affairs now stand, a man who lives in a State where 
the season ends on the 1st of April can go into a neighbor- 
ing State where the season may not close until the 1st of 
May and kill his birds there. Protecting the birds in one 
State and leaving them unprotected in another is practi- 
cally no protection at all. 
The point is, at what date should this national law 
bring the season to a close? It seems to me that the ques- 
tion could be settled by laying it before the associations 
for the protection of game in the different parts of the 
country and letting them come to a decision on the mat- 
ter. 
Aside from the date on which the season should be 
brought to a close, I think that the law should include 
such birds as brant, geese, coot and sheldrake, which are 
made exceptions to the law in many States. Although it 
is a deplorable thing, it is nevertheless true that there are 
a great many men who go out after brant and coot who 
would shoot a duck out of season if they got the chance 
and wink the other eye. If one of these men be called to 
account, it is always "I got a good chance at the duck, 
and thought it would make no difference. " It is bound to 
make a difference, and that difference will soon be only 
too appreciable. 
In the future even the coot and sheldrake, which are 
now so numerous, may be materially decreased if the 
army of gunners continues to grow larger. Besides, the 
protection of such birds cannot but tend to increase their 
numbers and make better shooting. 
In my opinion, a law is wanted which will protect 
waterfowl before they have begun to mate to any extent, 
and certainly before there could beany chance of a female 
bird having eggs in her. j, l. S. 
[The obstacle to the scheme of a national law is that 
such legislation is not within the province of Congress.] 
A Side Hunt on Vermin. 
Tacoma, Wash., Feb. 12 — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Ihe Tacoma Rifle, Rod and Gun Club inaugurated an im- 
promptu raid upon the enemies of game in Pierce county 
last Monday, Feb. 10. The destroyers of vermin were 
divided into two opposing parties, and a banquet to be 
paid for by the losers was hung upas an extra stimulus 
to exertion. About eight men actually participated in 
the hunt on each side, though for various reasons the 
score sheet shows twice this number. The hunters were 
captained by H. T. Denham for the Mascots, and E. B. 
Lanning for the Bazaars. The hunt lasted seven days, 
nve of which were characterized by drizzling rain. 
The score follows of game killed: 2 wildcats, 4 hawks, 
36 skunks, 1 eagle, 3 mink, 9 owls, 7 coons, 2 magpies, 58 
crows, 1 weasel; total, 123; Mascots 79, Bazaars 44. 
The banquet will be given by the Bazaars Feb. 19, at 
the Tacoma Hotel. j. A , BeebEj m 
A Stray Shinplaster 
Comes to us once in a while for a copy 
of "Game Laws in „ Brief;" but shin- 
plasters nowadays are scarcer than Moose 
in New York; and 25 cents in postage 
stamps will do just as well. 
AMONG THE GOLDEN TROUT. 
Looking east on a clear day from the line of the 
Southern Pacific Railroad about Visalia in the great San 
Joaquin Valley of California, one can see many miles of 
the distant Sierras rising to a great height and falling 
away on the north and south, though still remaining very 
high. The very h igh portion thus seen is the region about 
Mount Whitney and has the greatest average elevation of 
any part of the United States. Fabulous reports have 
long been brought back from those who had explored it 
about the great numbers of trout in the streams and 
especially about the golden trout of Whitney Creek, said 
to be found nowhere else in the world, always a dubious 
claim. Last August I determined to see for myself. 
From Visalia, sixty-five miles of good wagon road 
brought us to Mineral King, an old mining camp now 
used as a summer resort. This lies 8,000ft. high, with 
sharp rough ridges towering all around 5,000ft. higher, 
even the gap through which one must pass in the saddle 
lying 2,600ft. and looking rather alarming to one not used 
to rough country. Brooks that form the beautiful 
Kaweah River hiss in long streams of foam down almost 
perpendicular cliffs for hundreds of feet at a jump, and in 
the shoulders of the mighty hills far above the line of the 
last timber lie deep, clear lakes of a size one below would 
little suspect from a glance at the rough, steep hills above. 
In these are trout of immense size, over which many an 
expert has worried for days, exhausted all his tricks and 
inducements and finally fallen back on dynamite. They 
can be easily seen in the clear water and some have been 
killed weighing lOlbs., while 28in. is said to be no uncom- 
mon size. A very few have been caught on the hook at 
long intervals, but it is quite accidental, and the lucky 
man tries the same bait again in vain. 
Where these streams unite at Mineral King the trout 
fishing is good, and so it is in miles of the Kaweah River, 
where large trout can be seen at almost any time lying in 
the clear depths. But when one goes so far he wants to 
see the best there is, and I was also anxious to see the 
golden trout and learn whether they were mythical or 
real; so at Mineral King we left the wagon and in the 
saddle climbed the high ridge and went over into the 
headwaters of Kern River, one of the largest streams of 
the Sierra Nevada. Through Farewell Gap, 10,600ft. 
high, we went, with huge bare cliffs of gray granite tow- 
ering still above us, from the snow banks on which long 
lines of froth were streaming below to form the head- 
waters of the Kern. Where these combined into the first 
brook of any size the flash of the trout was seen, and a 
quick twitch on the line followed the first touch of the 
proper bait upon the water. Stream after stream went 
singing down the deep defiles into the West Fork of the 
Kern, which soon began to roar with the velocity of its 
increasing waters. For one who cares little for very large 
or rare trout there is probably no finer fishing than on this 
fork of the river, for it is passed by the great host of fish- 
ermen in the chase for something better. 
Our ride lay all day on the old Independence trail, 
through stupendous mountain scenery on every hand. 
Peaks of 13,000ft. were everywhere, and some rose to 
14,000, while long ridges of 12,000 and over were all about 
us. Above 11,000ft. even the spruce, becoming dwarfed 
and stunted at 10,000, runs entirely out, and only bare 
piles of granite shine in the sun. Almost all animal life 
disappears, though the old woodchuck that I had not seen 
for many a day I found fat and happy between 10,000 and 
12,000ft., many of them entirely above timber line. As 
far as I could see without killing one they were exactly 
the same as the woodchuck the boy was after the day the 
parson was expected. We rode through long stretches of 
pine and over occasional open meadows green with grass, 
over a trail perfectly safe and in most places very good, 
and on the second day reached the main or North Fork of 
Kern River. Here we found nearly 1,000 cubic feet a sec- 
ond of clear cold water tearing over bouldersjand foaming 
in deep pools, and though it was midday when trout rarely 
bite anywhere in warm weather the first cast of a fly 
brought a flash from the seething turmoil and in a twink- 
ling the light rod was bending and swaying as the line 
ran here and there. Standing on a boulder I could plainly 
see the fish as he dove through a clear spot between the 
frothy rapids. Not over a pound did he weigh, but he 
was lively and all the chances were in his favor, for boul- 
ders were plenty and the turns of the stream sharp. Care- 
ful handling he needed or in a twinkling he would be 
around some corner and under a big boulder, where I 
might speedily say goodby to fish, hoot and leader. But 
I was so high above that it was easy to turn him, while 
the banks were so free of brush there was little danger of 
entangling the line with any sort of evolution. In toward 
the shore he ran and out again, then he tried to make for 
under the boulder I was on, but the spring of the light 
rod soon checked that movement. When he drove for 
the depths of the pool he failed to overcome the spring 
of the rod, and when he rushed for the rapids he found 
the force of the stream a source of weakness rather than 
of strength, and it was not long before he came to the sur- 
face with open mouth. But still he was not conquered, 
but made several dashes for the deeper water every time 
I tried to tow him into some little bay where he could be 
easily landed. 
Another cast of the line brought a lighter fish out of 
the depths, but still considerable of a fish, and it was for 
several seconds a question whether to pull him directly 
out or give him a chance to play among the boulders. 
The latter course seemed the safer, and though scarcely 
over lOin. long he made a lively run among the whirling 
rapids and the boiling pools among the boulders. Another, 
another and another took the hook so rapidly that it began 
to look as if the fish would spoil the sport by being too 
plenty. I had in the early days of Minnesota, Wisconsin 
and Southern California seen trout as plenty as here, but 
had never seen such large ones bite so rapidly and in the 
middle of the day, when the sun was bright and the air 
really warm. How many one could cateh here by fishing 
all day no one knows. As there is no feed for the horses 
at this point, no one stops except for lunch and few catch 
anymore than enough for the frying pan. A half an 
hour's fishing secured enough for the party of six after 
throwing back more than twice as many small ones. 
They are so plenty one should really throw back the big 
ones or the string will soon be too heavy. 
In the afternoon we pushed on to Kern Lake, a pond 
about half a mile long by a quarter wide, formed in the 
river by a slide in the great flood of 1862. Into this the 
fish from above and below run and stay to grow large 
and fat. But as it is practically but a pool in the river 
the fish do not get lazy, as in reservoirs generally. Here 
we found two old dug-out canoes and were soon out on 
the deep, cold waters of the lake. We could see big 
trout drifting about below and lounging about on the 
bottom of the river where it entered the lake, but noth- 
ing in the line of a fly would tempt them to the surface. 
This was in the morning. But then why should not well- 
bred trout bite early in the morning? Only because they 
are a law unto themselves. , 
We found it quite different though when the old log 
trough pushed out on .the water, when the sunlight had 
sunk behind the mighty peaks that engirdled the scene 
and glimmered in purple and rose on bare cliffs that 
towered thousands of feet above the last lines of stunted 
spruce. The trout did not bite so rapidly as in the river, 
but when one did it was a bite. The first one took my 
fly with a rush that ran out over 100ft. of line before I 
fairly realized what he was about, and away off on one 
side he broke water and threw himself out before I could 
collect my scattered senses enough to dip the rod. For- 
tunately I had seen him rise and hooked him well. The 
hook caught in the gristle of his upper jaw and was 
anchored too firmly to shake out with any amount of 
slack, or by his quick movements he would have out- 
generaled me. I had been demoralized with too much 
easy trout fishing and the boat was so clumsy to move in 
that he would surely have escaped had he not been so 
luckily hooked. He dashed about from top to bottom 
under the boat and then way off on the side, coming in 
with a rush that gave me little chance to reel in well, 
then darting away again before the reeling was half done. 
After he came to the surface with open mouth it was 
some time before he could be brought to the side of the 
boat and then it was long before we could touch him 
without his darting below at a pace that looked alarming 
for the unstable canoe. By the aid of the hook on a large 
knife the fish was finally landed and turned out a full 
4£lbB. trout. 
From 30 to 50lbs. of trout was the common catch in this 
lake for about an hour and a half in the evening. We 
were satisfied with two large ones and threw back all the 
rest. Most parties here do the same, only those drying 
trout to take home try to catch many. Except in the im- 
mediate vicinity of good grass, which gathers too many 
campers, the trouble with the whole stream is the abun- 
dance of fish. You cannot give them away, for every 
party is in the same difficulty. If you throw back the 
small ones you soon have too many in weight. And if 
you throw back the large ones you are then destroying 
too many of these beautiful fish. The best way is to let 
but one of the party handle the rod while the rest sit down 
and look on. When he makes a miss he must take a seat 
and wait until the rest have missed. Even in this way a 
party of fair fishermen will soon have more fish than they 
can eat even with a mountain appetite. These trout are 
the common trout of the Rocky Mountains and kindred 
ranges to the westward. The large ones are much more 
gamy than the larger trout further south, nearly all of 
which are found now only in artificial lakes or reservoirs. 
Those in Kern Lake are the equal of any fish in dash and 
style. Though not quite equal to the red speckled trout of 
the East, these trout are very fine in'flavor, for the water 
flows but a short distance from eternal snow banks. 
Those who have fished all over the United States and 
Canada say this is the finest fishing ground they have ever 
seen. The distance of the stream from all points of travel, 
the great number of tributaries abounding in trout that 
no one ever troubles, the great extent of river along 
which, for want of grass, or from inaccessibility, no one 
ever casts a line, make it quite possible that this is so. 
Whether the best or not, it is impossible to see how any 
one could want anything better than the upper part of the 
Kern River. There are of course those who cannot catch 
a trout even here at first trial. But for those who under- 
stand it the only difficulty is to avoid making murder of 
it. 
Some three miles above Kern Lake Whitney Creek, a 
stream of about 10ft cubic feet a second, comes roaring 
down out of the upper world. One can ascend the cafion, 
but no one does if in his senses. This is easily avoided by 
a detour of some three miles on a fair trail up hill some 
2,500ft., when you reach the stream above the main falls. 
Below this point it is said a few golden trout of consider- 
able size yet linger in the main stream before it joins the 
Kern. But those who have fished the Kern for forty 
years say they have never been seen in the Kern, and very 
rarely have any been seen below the falls of Whitney 
Creek. A few have probably been caught napping, and 
carried over in a cloud burst. They are unable to ascend 
the fall and they will not go out into the Kern, although 
no mortal man can distinguish any difference in the 
water except that late in the season that of the Kern is a 
trifle warmer. Here they stay in about half a mile of 
their native stream, and it is said that all attempts to 
transplant them have so far failed. No matter how cold 
the water in which they are put or how pure it may be, 
they generally die, while the few that live generally lose 
the bright hues that make them the most beautiful of 
beautiful fish. Trout of the same kind, but of duller hues, 
are found in a few streams on the south fork of the Kern, 
but these will not stand transplanting any better. 
As I looked at the rushing waters of the creek, across 
which we could hardly urge our horses, it looked so much 
like any other stream of pure water that I could hardly 
believe it contained a trout that lives nowhere else. We 
went on three miles to Long Meadow, containing several 
hundred acres of good grass land at an elevation of 
10,900ft. above the sea. Around us mountains rose 
3,000ft. higher, carrying plenty of snow in deep drifts, 
from which icy water came tearing down every ravine. 
After sundown it was intensely cold, and our coffee pot 
and string of fish froze solid at night. Yet this was the 
warmest water and air these fish ever see, and we found 
them as high as 12,500ft. 
Through Long Meadow the creek wound in shining 
curves, with gentler rapids and more quiet pools, and 
here we cast the first line. We could see the trout 
drifting about in the clear depths with sublime indiffer- 
ence to our presence. But when we came to try our 
choicest flies they were equally indifferent to them. 
Grasshoppers were scarce in this climate, but after con- 
