FOREST AND STREAM. 
7 
Not Patented. 
Los Anoeles, Cal., June 15. — A party of three, Dave, 
Catesby 'and myself, have been duck hunting; and having 
exhausted our supply of ammunition, were returning to 
the team, when, crossing a piece of marshy ground, we 
Hushed a solitary jacksnipe. After a short circuitous 
flight it darted down again within a few yards of us. 
Dave hurriedly asked for a shell, and after a search 
through all our pockets, a single shell was found which 
had missed fire, and in which the primer had become 
loosened by the successive blows of the firing pin. 
The seeming impossibility of bagging the snipe under 
the conditions named aroused in us a great desire to 
possess it, and also (as it proved) sharpened Dave's wits. 
He asked for a parlor match, of which Catesby had a sup- 
ply. 
With the blade of his pen-knife he extracted the defective 
primer, cut the head off of one of the matches, and care- 
fully seated it in the cavity intended for the primer. For- 
tunately the cavity was deep enough te contain the match 
head, or otherwise there would have been danger of a pre- 
mature explosion upon closing the gun. 
The whole operation occupied much less time than it 
takes to write it, and when completed it was decided by a 
vote of the majority that Dave should take the Bbot as a 
reward for his inventive genius and because he was the 
best shot in the party. 
He flushed the snipe and quickly leveled his double- bar- 
rel at the twisting flyer. There was a noticeable hangfire, 
but when the gun cracked the snipe joined ''the things 
that were." Of course it was purely a chance kill, and I 
doubt if it could be done again in a hundred shots, but 
Dave got his full share of praise, which he took as a matter 
of course. 
The shell was loaded with black powder. For the ben- 
efit of the public I will say that we have not applied for a 
patent on our primer, and all sportsmen are free to use it, 
should necessity occurr. Culpepper. 
Sometimes They Draw the Long Bow. 
Dunbarton, N. H.— Editor Forest and stream: The 
tendency to exaggerate is fully developed in the residents 
of the settlements on the borders of the Maine and New 
Hampshire forests. Once, with a companion (who for his 
years is one of the best still-hunters and woodsmen I 
know), I went to the headwaters of the Mad River, in 
Waterville, N. H. I had been told that deer were plenty 
there. It was toward the end of the open season and 
there was a foot or more of snow with a noisy crust, and 
we did not expect to do any hunting. Our plan was, if 
we saw many signs of game, to go there the following 
season and build a camp. The first day we traveled over 
some first-rate looking deer ground without seeing a sign, 
fresh or old. On the second day, after quite a tramp, we 
saw some old tracks where four or five deer had been 
several days before. We both decided at the end of the 
second day that there were not deer enough to make it 
worth while to go there again. 
On our way out my companion called at a house near 
the woods and was told by an old man living there that 
the woods were full of deer. "Why," said he, "there 
are over 50,000 deer between my house and Mount Wash- 
ington." Now, I think this old fellow had told this story 
so often that in a certain sense he believed it, although he 
knew it was not true. 
The story of a night in the wilderness under the head- 
ing of "Campfire Flickerings," in Forest and Stream of 
June 2, is fully equal to the 50,000 deer yarn. I should 
like very much to see the 8in. tracks of that catamount 
which chased the dog into the camp. He must have worn 
snowshoes. C. M. Stark. 
Wisconsin Export Law. 
The statement made in these columns last week, that 
the Wisconsin law did not forbid the export of game was 
correct enough with respect to the particular game then 
in question — wildfowl. The law does forbid export of 
venison. 
Concerning' a Portrait. 
"A long-felt want"— well, I should say so. I have been wondering 
for lo I these many moons, what Mr. Hough had done or had not done 
that we shouldn't have the pleasure of seeing the face of one whose 
contributions everybody looks forward to and reads with such satis- 
faction. Why, do you know, he is one of the best things that ever 
happened to dear old Forest and Stream? I say one of the best. The 
other is— well, I'd mention it, but I know the modesty of the editor- 
readers will know what I mean. These articles of Mr. Hough on the 
Park expedition are a perfect feast— witty, chatty, entertaining, in- 
structive, thoroughly enjoyable and readable. He has a way of put- 
ting things that— well, they get next to a fellow, hit plumb center 
every time. I am very glad to see his phiz and sincerely hope he may 
long be permitted to delight the thousands of readers of the best 
sportsman's paper on earth — "the great and glorious sunshine 
shedder." O. O. S. 
Allow me to commend your paper for the position you 
take in regard to the Park game and in "showing up" the 
several schemes to run railroads inside the Park boundaries. 
Keep the sharks out.— H. L. Lake. 
THE SARDINIA CLUB'S OUTING. 
Buffalo, N. Y. — Three years ago a number of kindred 
spirits living in Buffalo and its vicinity conceived the 
idea of stocking with trout a spring brook in the southern 
part of Erie county, running from near Chaffee to Sar- 
dinia. To think in this case was to do, and 10,000 Cali- 
fornia trout and 20,000 brook trout, all in their infancy, 
were intrusted to the cold waters of the stream and its 
tributaries. From time to time some members of the 
club have wandered along the banks of the stream to 
see if any of the fry remained and if they had begun to 
grow. The reports were encouraging, as many fish were 
seen and some of them of considerable size. 
This spring the stream was declared open to the mem- 
bers of the club, and some very pretty catches of fish 
have been taken, the number including two California 
trout, one of them 13£in. long. 
The annual meeting of the club was planned this year 
for Decoration Day, at Sardinia. There should be a 
dinner with a speech and then the annual business meet- 
ting of the club. The long-talked of day arrived when 
the club members with their wives were to visit, some of 
them for the first time, the stream about which so much 
had been said. The morning was dark and cloudy, anc 
this appearance after more than a week of almost con- 
stant heavy rain, made a discouraging outlook. But 
who ever saw really enthusiastic fishermen deterred by 
thought of rain, even when there were ladies in the case 
also? We assembled at the station, fourteen in number, 
some with one rod, and one with three, and one long- 
headed member carried in addition to his rod a rifle, with 
the idea that if the stream was too high to fish, a verdant 
woodchuck might be above ground long enough to afford 
some target practice. 
An hour's ride, during which the scenery changed from 
the flat plain, largely submerged, that surrounds Buffalo, 
to low lulls, green in all the verdure of spring, and then 
to steeper ones as the train wound along their sides above 
the banks of some swift-flowing stream or through a piece 
of woodland in full foliage and sweet with blossoms, 
brought us to the peaceful country village of Chaffee — and 
mud. Everywhere the roads and fields were full of it, 
the roads plowed by the heavy traffic of moving teams 
and the fields by the steel edge of the slow-going plow. 
The frogs were out in full force and peeps and croaks in 
crescendo chorus greeted the party as they alighted from 
the train 950ft. above Buffalo. The sky was still overcast, 
and as it threatened rain there was a rush to the stores 
for rubbers. One member even waited till an addition 
could be built to the only ones left in stock after the on- 
slaught. Then the ladies were assisted into a long cloth- 
topped wagon that went by the name of "the stage." 
Here they sat with bowed heads to escape the too close 
acquaintance between their hats and the cloth top. TJndur 
the convoy of the most venerable and staid member of 
the club, adorned like an old bell wether with a botanist's 
case with a bait box inside, which all the way did service 
as a bell to tell the approach of the flock, they started. 
Most of the male members started in wagons also, in- 
tending to strike the stream some distance down and fish 
to the village of Sardinia and dinner. But two bolder 
than the rest set out afoot to walk and find that wood- 
chuck. Encouraged by the remark of one of the farmers 
who had gathered to see the "circus come to town," that 
"That old stump lot is full of chucks," these two wandered 
cheerfully away through the wet in search of game. 
Entering the field they soon saw one, but he was too near 
his hole and got away before the gun could be brought 
into action. Soon, away across the field, a black object 
was sighted by the member who acted as pointer. "See 
there, do you see him move? See him sit up and eat the 
clover, then get down to uraw to himself a fresh bunch 
for his morning meal." "Yes, I see him," said the hunter, 
"I'll sneak up by that stump yonder. You stay here and 
watch him." So saying he made a wide detour so as to 
bring the stump between him and the game, and crept 
stealthily along, gun in hand. Now this was a pasture and 
the cows were in it, and seeing a man moving stealthily 
along and not in his accustomed manner, one bossie cow 
moved by feminine curiosity marched up behind to inquire 
"what was up." It would not do to scare the waiting 
game, so it would not do to scare the cow. The hunter 
was nonplussed for a moment, and then with a gentle 
wave of the hand behind him, he motioned the intruder 
away. Now, in all her quiet life bossie had never seen 
this action on the part of man, and with a toss of the head 
she stopped and looked. Again the hunter crept forward 
and his trailing inquisitor followed. The hunter reached 
the stump with the cow some distance in the rear. He 
looked around the corner toward the spot where he ex- 
pected to see the game. He saw nothing, but the pointer 
still stood in the same old spot. The hunter crept 
stealthily around the stump and found — a knot lying in the 
grass. . 
This was enough. Game was not plenty in that local- 
ity, and the valiant two struck through the fields for that 
part of the stream where they expected to find the others 
fishing. On their way they found where some boys had 
started the bark of a slippery elm, and catching the 
frayed ends, though grave college professors, they swung 
at the ends of the long strips as they loosened from the 
trunk to and fro like the veriest .boys on a summer holi- 
day let loose from school. A piece of bark many feet 
long rewarded their efforts, and shouldering this they 
marched on in glee. Crossing another field they found 
where the bright red berries of the wintergreen hugged 
the ground just beneath the glossy green leaves. With 
these they filled their pockets, and loaded with woodland 
spoils trudged across the fields until they reached the 
stream. They found the water to the top of the bank but 
clear. The rod was soon rigged, but no answering tug 
from trout rewarded a faithful whipping of the troubled 
waters. The rest of the party had long gone on ahead. 
A farmer, however, told how one of them had "hooked a 
buster under that log and had lost all his tackle." Fol- 
lowing down the stream these two reached a field in 
which was grazing a herd of cattle led by a lordly bull. 
This gentleman was disposed to dispute the passage, and 
came valiantly to the front. At this critical moment, as 
luck would have it, the fish line caught in an overhang- 
ing tree and the corpulent member with one eye on the 
bull and the other on the tangle struggled to free the line 
without assistance from the genus Bos. This was safely 
accomplished, though after a few rather exciting seconds 
during which the gunner stood with his Winchester .45 
at "ready" in case anything should happen out of the 
common. As Boon as the fine was out of the tree, the cor- 
pulent member, catching a stick from the ground, rushed 
at his enemy and put him to ignominious flight, but as 
they climbed the fence into an adjoining field the hoarse 
bellowing of the defeated bovine acted as an accompani- 
ment to their gymnastics. 
The hotel was reached in a short time, where all the 
other members were found assembled, and one poor little 
trout of seven inches was tha only trophy of the day. 
When the ladies came down the fishers were "not in it," 
as the bark and berries of the "overland route" made 
oral gymnastics in order that seemed thoroughly satis- 
factory. And then after long waiting came the dinner — 
such chicken pie, and coffee and pie, and ice cream and 
cake. We could appreciate it all. And then followed 
the speech-making, when at the command of the presi- 
dent the corpulent member waxed eloquent, and quoting 
Shakespeare and other wise men he told why we fish, 
you fish, they fish, and how the memory of it lingers 
many a day to lighten toil and the unrest and worry of a 
business or professional fife. 
Then came the business meeting and the election of 
officers. Benjamin Sawen was elected president; H. M. 
Hill, vice-president; John Hobbie, secretary-treasurer. 
The secretary reported that 60,000 trout had been planted 
and that there was still $50 in the treasury. 
At the end of the meeting nearly all took wagons at 
once for the station, three miles away, but a valorous few, 
three ladies and three men, despite the rain which at the 
time was gently falling, took their tackle and repaired to 
a famous pool to prove to the doubting member that there 
were still trout in the stream. This pool lay at the bot- 
tom of a high dam where the rushing waters at time of 
flood had worn a deep hole below the apron, and into 
this hole the water was dashing in foam. The doubter 
and his wife both dropped lines into the midst of this 
favorable spot while the others looked to see the outcome. 
There was no response. A luscious bait was sent, spat 
into the foam and then below it. All at once a squeal 
from the doubter's wife and we saw her gently, alas too 
gently, lift from the water a trout of considerable size. 
Then again, even after zealous flogging, there was no re- 
sponse. The reputation of the stream was at stake and 
the enthusiast, seizing his bamboo rod, tried in many a 
royal battle with the Adirondack trout, walked boldly 
out along the dam and made a gentle cast beyond the 
foam spot in the pool. Twice the bait went with the cur- 
rent and swung in shore, but at the third cast there was 
a tug, a bending of the lithe rod as a lOin. trout was 
brought in out of the wet to repose in the basket of the 
lady fisherman — and the doubter was silenced. 
It was time to go. Time and trains wait for no man, 
so disjointing our rods we made our moist way back to 
the hotel and getting on board the low roofed stage we 
were in process of time landed at the station, where we 
found the rest of the party waiting and recounting the 
various adventures of the day. Soon the expected train 
arrived and we fairly slid down the long incline to 
Buffalo, all voting the second annual meeting of the 
Sardinia Fishing Club a grand success. H. M, H. 
TROUT TICKLING. 
Reading the very interesting article by "O. O. S." under 
this heading, I stand up in the boat to say, that there was 
a doubt that trout could be taken in this very old manner 
was as surprising to me as if some one should wonder if 
they would take a bait or a fly, 
I speak of it as an old manner or practice, for if you 
will open your volume of Shakespeare at "Twelfth Night," 
Act II. , Scene 5, you will note that Maria says : "Here comes 
the trout that must be caught by tickling." This settles 
the antiquity of the practice, for this play was first acted 
in 1602, and two years after this was acted "Measure for 
Measure," although the exact date of the writing of these 
plays is not known. In the latter play, Act I., Scene 2, 
the clown says, in answer to a question concerning the 
offense of the prisoner: "Groping for trouts in a peculiar 
river." We know that the clown spoke in what Mrs. 
Partington might have called "an apochryphal tone," and 
that the offense for which the man was imprisoned would 
not, to-day, come within the jurisdiction of a game and 
fish protector, yet it shows that fish were "groped" for in 
Shakespeare's time, as is apparent in these two references 
to it by him. 
Now to modern instances. When I began trout breed- 
ing at Honeoye Falls, N. Y., in 1868, my fishing and 
shooting chum, "Mort" Locke, told me that he had heard 
that trout could be tickled under the belly until they 
could be thrown out on land, and we tried it. Purely in 
the interest of knowledge we waded in the stream below 
my trout ponds, then owned by Alvira Parkhurst, and 
just above the cabin of old Thomas McMahon, and after 
carefully wading down and driving some trout under the 
banks, we put our hands under the fish and tickled their 
bellies with our finger tips until we got the chance to 
throw them out on the grass. We took three fine trout 
this way and. then, having demonstrated that it could be 
done, went on with our fly-fishing, for "Mort" Locke was 
not the man to do that sort of thing for trout; he only 
wanted to know. He was the station agent of the N. Y. C. 
R.R. at that place for many years and a well known man 
in the Monrot* County Sportsmen's Association. Old time 
Rochester sportsmen knew him well. He went to Illinois 
as station agent for some railroad and was crushed to 
death by one of its trains some years ago. We shot foxes 
together over the Mendon hills and ducks on the many 
lakes of western New York, and we fished together in 
too many waters to mention. I loved him "like a verra 
brither," as Burns put it, and if Charon keeps him waiting 
for lack of funds I hope to have the price for both when I 
reach the ferry. 
To get back to hard, practical facts, things that I do not 
like as well as I like old friends, I feel compelled to cite 
business facts, and here we go. When in our business of 
hatching trout, we have to take the eggs or milt from a 
fish, we find that a grab ends in failure, but that a pair of 
hands gently lowered into the tub where we have fish 
from the spawning race, can be advanced slowly and the 
trout can be gently lifted and manipulated. A trout 
seems to like to have its belly gently tickled, and this has 
long been known, as has been shown above. 
The publication of this fact does not seem to me to be 
dangerous to our fishing interests because most poachers 
have some of the instincts of sportsmen, or they would 
net a stream rather than follow the very slow process of 
"tickling." The game laws of New York instruct a 
poacher by naming certain fish poisons that are forbid- 
den to be used, when he might otherwise be ignorant of 
nhe drug that would serve him, and this is my apology, 
or defense, for writing how trout may be tickled. 
Fred Mather. 
Cold Sprins Harbor, N. Y. 
When a youngster I passed many a happy hour in trout 
'ickling, as described by your correspondent "W. H. B." 
in your issue of June 16. The scene of my operations 
was in the Isle of Man. J. H. Wilmott. 
Commenting upon Mrs. Preston's note on the term, 
Judge L. B. France writes: "One with a woman is in 
the majority. It will now tax your gallantry to condemn 
the word. And our friend Star buck! he will be tickled." 
Trout and Sucker Spawn. 
Central Lake, Mich., June 2.— It is stated that the 
suckers of Torch Lake began running up the brooks to 
spawn about June 10, and that the speckled trout follow 
them. Query — Are the trout after the spawn? In the 
Intermediate waters the Buckers were running in April, 
arobably because the water was warmer than in Torch 
Lake, Kelpie 
