436 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 80, 1896?. 
§%8 and §mu 
TROUT AND DUCKS AT ROUND LAKE. 
St. Paul, Minn.— On Aug, 31, the day before the open- 
ing of the shooting season, our party of six, after much 
planning, started for Round Lake. A drive of twenty- 
eight miles through a charmingly picturesque country 
brought us to our destination, which is rarely visited by 
sportsmen, principally on account of the long drive and 
lack of accommodations, but with us it is a favorite re- 
sort, its seclusion making it doubly attractive. The lake 
itself is not very large, having about five miles of shore 
line, fringed with heavy rushes, but very deep and clear 
as crystal. 
On our arrival we were saluted by the baying of hounds 
and yelping of pups, five of the latter keeping us busy 
driving them away from our eatables while we were un- 
packing. After half an hour's work we had attended to 
our horses and stowed everything away safely from the 
dogs, and while a few of us prepared our evening meal 
Ed and Charley rowed out on the lake for bass. Cooking 
supper is a very pleasant occupation for a hungry man, 
that is when it cooks, which by the way ours did not do. 
Al's charcoal stove, on which he has not yet got out a 
patent, is an invention of his own for which he claims 
innumerable advantages over any other make of stove, 
but in this case it proved itself sadly deficient, although 
Al blamed the charcoal, which was as dry as a chip and 
would burn like tinder if given a chance; but "all things 
come to those who wait," and our supper was done at 
last; Charley and Ed were called and we sat down to a 
meal fit for a king. 
After our supper was over, and dishes washed and put 
away, C, the farmer taking care of the boats, invited us 
to go coon bunting, assuring us coon were plentiful in 
the neighborhood. We accepted his invitation and he 
• disappeared for a few moments in the house; when he re- 
turned he had with him two hounds (?) and an old, rusty, 
Oreech-loading gun, which was entirely in keeping with 
the balance of his belongings. It was bright moonlight, 
tilough somewhat cool; a heavy dew had fallen, and after 
walking through meadows, cornfields and woods for 
something like two hours we gave up and returned home 
wet and bedraggled. C. kindly offered us his front room 
to sleep in, which three of us decided to take advantage 
of; so Harvey, Charley and myself wrapped ourselves in 
our blankets and kept awake; it was too cold to sleep. 
Charley counted stars through the chinks in the walls and 
I shivered in my blanket until about 3 o'clock A. M., when 
I could stand it no longer, but got up and built a roar- 
ing fire with Al's assistance and started the coffee boiling, 
the odor of which soon reached the nostrils of the others 
and we were soon all collected around the fire, excepting 
Harvey, who gathered up all the blankets and went to 
sleep for spite. Daylight was not far off and our break- 
fast was quickly gotten ready and eaten, and we loaded 
our guns, filled our pockets with shells and paddled away 
across the lake. At the first streak of dawn the ducks 
were up and we could see their dark bodies for a moment 
across the eastern sky as they passed us back and forth, 
Buspecting no danger. Very soon the light grew brighter, 
and bang! bangl awoke the echoes as some unwise ducks 
came too close to our blind. After those first shots we had 
plenty of work to keep us warm; Harry, who was in the 
same boat with me, making a beautiful double as two 
ducks rose scarcely 20ft. away, one taking to his right and 
the other to his left. About 9 o'clock the sport was 
exhausted and we determined to look for some ducks that 
had lit in the weeds off on our right. It was impossible 
to get the boat through the dense tangle of wild rice fully 
6ft. in height and we rowed over to shore. Leaving Har- 
ry with the boat, I made a wide detour through the woods, 
expecting to get near enough for a shot when they rose, 
but the woods ended abruptly and I was forced to make 
my way through very dry brush, which crackled under 
my feet at every step. I had not proceeded far in this 
manner when the ducks became alarmed and rose. I 
made an awful run and fired both barrels right into the 
middle of the flock, but not a duck, not even a feather, 
dropped. The distance was too great, and I returned to 
the boat vowing I would have something larger than No. 
6 shot next time I went duck hunting. 
Al, Ed and Charley, who had been fishing along one 
side of the lake, had also managed to pick up a few stray 
ducks as they passed. In addition to this they had a nice 
string of bass to show for their morning's work. In the 
afternoon we rested our weary bodies beneath some 
spreading oaks on the hillside, preparing ourselves for 
another attack upon the enemy in the evening. It had 
grown very warm during the day and when evening 
came the ducks were not flying. 
That night we slept in the barn on the hay and voted 
it a good deal better than the floor of the house. 
Next day was unbearably hot, and we decided not to 
stay longer. A few ducks were shot in the early morn- 
ing by Al, Charley acting as retriever, and at 9 o'clock 
we started for home, traveling by easy stages, arriving in 
town about 4 o'clock that afternoon very tired and sleepy, 
but all voting that the best and only place for fishing or 
hunting and general recreation was Round Lake. O. 
A RAID ON COOTERS. 
New Bedford, Mass., May 18.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: George B. Little, Charles S. Corey and Abram 
Gifford, of New Bedford; Asa S. Jones, Philip E. 
Macomber, Isaac Petty, Thomas B. Gifford, John T. 
Brownell, Geo. McGaw, Frank and Edward S. Whalen 
and David Lake, of Westport; Frank H. Chase, of Swan- 
sey, and Albert "Wardeli, of North Dartmouth, were 
arraigned before Judge Borden in the District Court 
to-day (May 18) at the instigation of the State police for 
shooting coot or "May white wings" out of season. 
The raid was made as a result of the numerous com- 
plaints which have recently been made to the State police 
headquarters at Boston that the law in relation to the 
shooting of these birds is being violated. 
The shooting occurred on Horseneck Beach, and is the 
favorite ground along thiB part of the coast for e.unners. 
The police planned an early visit to this stamping ground. 
Saturday night the police boat Ocean Gem was placed in 
commission for the season and early Sunday morning the 
craft was got under way. On board were officers W. H 
Proctor, Thomas A. Dexter and Frederick A. Rhoades 
Officer A. B. Hodges, S. F. Lettenz and Deputy Fish Com- 
missioners Rich and Delano formed the remainder of the 
party, and these officials were driven over by land at an 
early hour Sunday morning, arriving at about the same 
time as the Ocean Gem. 
As was expected, the shore was lined with gunners, and 
the work of gathering them in soon commenced. 
A number along the beach saw the officers coming, or 
were very poor shots, for only a few were found with any 
birds in their possession, so the officers awaited the com- 
ing of the gunners off shore in boats. As each boat load 
landed on the hard white beach they were questioned 
severely, and in most of the boats coots were found, and 
the gunners unsuspectingly admitted they shot them. 
They were placed under arrest, and when all the offend- 
ers were secured they were taken aboard the steamer 
and the voyage to New Bedford was commenced. On 
the arrival of the Ocean Gem at the dock all the offenders 
were secured, and under the escort of the police were 
marched to the central police station. All respondents 
acknowledged they were guilty of the offense charged. 
State agent Proctor stated that although many of the 
defendants shot four or five birds it would satisfy the 
Commonwealth if each was fined for one bird. For the 
benefit of those concerned Judge Borden read the law 
covering the case and a fine of $20 was then imposed in 
each case. 
The cases against John A. Sherman and Allen F. War- 
dell for shooting coot were tried separately, due to the 
fact that Wardeli pleaded not guilty. He was defended 
by Lawyer Milliken. 
Sherman stated he went out to Wardell's residence 
Thursday to spend a few days, and Sunday went out 
gunning with Wardeli and shot one bird. When they 
landed they were arrested. 
The State officer said that there were two guns in the 
boat, but only one bird. The State agent thought that one 
was to blame as the other. Lawyer Milliken remarked 
that if such was the case the one bird was worth $40. 
"That is the common sense view of it," remarked the 
Judge, and he imposed the $20 fine, as in the other cases. 
Gunners in this part of the country do not observe the 
law in regard to the close seasons. This affair will have 
a tendency to awaken them. D. W, 
FLY-FISHING 
On the North Shore of Lake Superior. 
[Continued from page U17.] 
When I awoke at dawn and gazed out upon a dull gray 
sky, with a cool breeze bending the Bhrubbery and the 
grasses in tiny drops of frosty dew, I was satisfied that a 
northwester had stolen upon us during the early hours of 
the morning and thus brought deep disappointment. So 
eager was I that morning to cast my first fly of the season 
that, despite the adverse state of the elements, I arose 
with a determination to try for a trout even if I had to 
return dripping wet from the spraying waves or with an- 
other wound or a broken limb. A few minutes was suf- 
ficient for my morning toilet, and then hurriedly putting 
my rod together and affixing reel and lures, I started off 
over the slippery rocks, which were still very moist from 
the late rain, with a request to the boys to call me when 
the breakfast was ready. Ned not being just then pisca- 
torially inclined, remained in his blanket to further court 
the somnolent Morpheus. 
As I reached the rocky shore line of the island I com- 
menced the angle almost in the teeth of the wind and on 
a sea that was tossing its snowy plumes quite gener- 
ously. 
As I continued my earnest casting not a trout seemed 
desirous of toying with my artful deceits, and I began to 
think that after all I would have to return without a 
single fin to my credit. I had covered nearly every inch 
of ground, and as I was tramping toward my last position 
and making my last efforts Jo put in an appearance and 
informed me that breakfast was about ready. 
"Wait a bit till I try yon rock, for I may want your ser- 
vices with the landing net," I spoke up. 
"That's where father caught his trout." 
Thus encouraged I eagerly clambered to the top of the 
desired cliff, which was ragged with a sharp and splin- 
tered surface, and which had a very steep inclination to 
the roughened waters below. Arriving at a small shelv- 
ing ledge on its bold front I sent the flies whizzing through 
the air, and was delighted with the lightness with which 
they kissed the crest of an approaching wave, and still 
more delighted when I saw the gleam and splash of a 
trout as he greedily sought to snatch up my Lord-Balti- 
more. I quickly struck, as I thought in time, and was 
much disappointed when I found I had no battling 
trout. 
"Draw a wee bit slower, ' advised the young half-breed 
when he saw my lamentable failure. 
Again goes my Lord-B. and his companion, a Par- 
machenee-belle, and this time I heed the advice given, 
and as the pursuing trout attempts another effort to steal 
the stretcher fly, the L.-B., he feels the prick of the sharp- 
ened steel and races away to rid himself of the adhering 
feathers. It is a decided failure with him, for after a 
severe struggle in the turbulent waters he is drawn to the 
rough-edged rocks of the cliff, which Jo had adroitly 
managed to descend, and there duly netted. He was only 
a two-pounder, but I was only too glad to secure even one 
of that weight on such an adverse morning and in such a 
tumbling sea. 
With the lovely captive the sport ceased, and a hurried 
tramp was made for the morning meal, which I found on 
reaching camp was just ready for serving. 
Ned was surprised at my success, for he did not think 
that any trout would be tempted to the surface in such a 
tempestuous sea. It was simply the ravenous greed of 
the gamy fish that brought him so close to the surf- 
beaten shore and to his untimely fate. 
It was evident that wind and wave were both on the 
increase, and that casting with any hopes of success was 
not to be thought of, and moreover to cross Goulais Bay, 
which intervened between us and Grindstone Point, pre- 
sented itself as another and a decided adverse object. 
The day was therefore before us to wear away, while the 
wind made the sea dance to its music. 
Ned was never an idler in camp, for he always found 
something to do when cards and literature grew tiresome. 
He was either devising some new creation in feather 
fancy, making a leader, or repairing some weak point in 
rod or reel, and after breakfast he at once had the entire 
tent turned into a workshop. I never took to this crea- 
tive part unless a matter of necessity, for I had started 
on the trip with an amplitude of tackle and that in first- 
class condition. If, perchance, I needed any jobbing in 
that line, Ned was only too glad to secure the work, for 
he was a master hand at it and always averred that I 
would botch it with undue haste. 
I was delighted for a while in watching the develop- 
ment of his crafty work, and occasionally made a prompt- 
ing suggestion, which, however, was seldom considered, 
for he always looked upon me as lacking in those qualities 
that make the skillful figure in construction. 
He advised me after one of my recommendations to 
take Jo and try and coax another trout to the top of an 
advancing wave where I had deceived the last. There 
was evidently some significance in his enkindling sugges- 
tion. It was an absence of leave he undoubtedly desired 
on my part that he might work unadvised and undis- 
turbed, and probably achieve the creation of some chef 
d'ceuvre in the feathery art during my non-presence. I 
kindly took the hint, and calling the young half-breed 
we started off around the rough and wave-washed shore 
in search of a golden fin. Jo said it was too stormy for 
fishing and so it was, but we ventured forth all the same 
and soon had the flies dancing amid the snowy foam. I 
industriously tried to lure some scarlet-hued beauty, but 
nothing came to the dropping flies. Finally becoming 
tired, I relinquished the rod to the intrepid semi-savage, 
who went bounding over the rocks with the activity of a 
cat. He slid down to the very water's edge and took the 
wash of the waves very good-naturedly and as a matter 
of course. I would shout to him when a big comber 
came rolling in so that he could retreat higher up the 
rock, but he heeded it not and let the waters wash him at 
will. After making the entire circuit of the island we 
returned without the record of a single rise. Thrice 
more during the day we repeated the tour with the same 
result. 
After supper the wind fell and with it the sea, and 
then it was to boat and to the adjacent shore, where we 
made the dainty flies fall with earnest industry. Soon 
the clouds began to break asunder and disclose little shin- 
ing rifts of pale blue and bright gold, the sea to shimmer 
with opaline tints and the roar of the waves to drop to a 
delicious rhythm. 
"The trout will begin to snap now," says Ned, and 
hardly had he finished the remark before he had a mag- 
nificent rise, but the angler was off his guard and the 
hungry beauty sculled back to his watery lair. Again 
went Ned's flies and no response, and once more he made 
them fall and dance in the water, and this time a savage 
dash came that made the bubbles fly and the music of the 
reel sing the recital of the angler's joy. Some hacked 
and lichened rocks that told the fierce storms and desola- 
tion of centuries became the object of the stricken trout, 
for there, doubtless, down in some crevice deep were his 
palace walls and his throne, and maybe his brocaded 
queen of loveliness. Ah I but he will never again roam 
through those adamantine halls, for he is held with too 
tight a rein by his fortunate captor. It now assumes a 
battle royal, for the impaled will never submissively yield 
while an atom of vigor remains. It is a beautiful sight 
to the interested looker-on as the willowy rod bends to the 
frantic rushes of the bewildered captive, and then loses 
its arching grace as it recovers itself on the ebbing strength 
of the fighting fontinalis. Victory is now in the air, and 
with a superhuman leap, a desperate dash or two, the 
dotted darling comes to the surface and casts an appealing 
look to the skies above, as if expecting relief from that 
myscerious world. The sportsman's blood is fully up with 
his game in hand, and the transports of a heaven are his 
alone. No sentiment of pity enters into his exciting 
pastime, and as we look upon the dying beauty in its rich 
garment of silver and scarlet the smile of triumph broad- 
ens o'er his face and his heart is full of thrilling joy. 
Ambitious to emulate the fortunate piscator, f let no 
place that looked like the home of a trout go unwhipped 
of my flies, a brown hackle and a red ibis. Slowly and 
silently we glide along a rocky shoreland in such strange 
derangement of cliff and crag that you might read the 
history of an entire century on its dismembered face and 
realize the most incongruous forms on every hand. The 
infinite variety of such views is not to be imagined unless 
it has been witnessed; and besides in the magic wrought 
by mere change of position there is also a constant trans- 
formation of tone and color from hour to hour, as the 
lights and shadows vary, and from day to day with the 
unsettled weather. Yet who could convey to one this 
sense of beauty, which is the crown of admiration to every 
lover of nature, which every disciple of rod and reel ia 
supposed to be. We must not, however, forget our mis- 
sion in rhapsody of these ragged faced shores. Here we 
reach a little rivulet that winds and wanders its way 
through rough and riven ridges and over terraces that are 
beautified with dark pines and spruces and charmingly 
enriched with many a lovely wild flower. I at once 
recognized the place where in seasons past I had lured 
many an unsusppcting trout to an untimely fate, and 
eagerly cast my artistic flies. A gleam as of a silvery 
arrow happily greets my vision, and then a sudden 
tumult in the water takes place, and a revolving reel tells 
the tale of deceit and another battle in progress that to 
the foe of the upper element is one of pure and unadulter- 
ated felicity. The fight was on a fair field, prolonged 
and stubborn, but the spotted Apollo of the waters sur- 
rendered after a gallant struggle, and then only with the 
departure of his fast expiring breath. 
With this triumph Ned insisted upon returning to camp, 
as the afternoon was fast fading into night. Evidence of 
this was rapidly accumulating and imprinting itself on all 
around. A primrose tint from a dying sunset was ting- 
ing the rocky cliffs, while shadows were creeping out 
from the dark forests and growing on the lapping waters 
that gently beat against the serrated shores. The eastern 
horizon was already spreading her mantle of night, and 
the crimson glow from the declining orb was about ready 
to kiss the shimmering waters a fervent good night. 
It was more than a mile to our quarters and I was satis ■ 
fied the stars would be twinkling long ere we reached it, 
for Ned, as usual, was sure to try the inviting waters we 
would have to pass. The boys who were anxious to reach 
camp pulled a hard and steady stroke, and when they had 
reached a spot where the sea had beaten an'' ground the 
rocks into a little beach, Ned called a sudden halt an I 
