o CT . 2?, 1894.1 FOREST AND STREAM. 
had washed a deepened sand hole where the vicious beau- 
ties awaited their prey: and the deeper and darker the 
wafcr the larger its inhabitants. Sometimes the log was 
a tree with existent stubby branches, to which your hook 
appeared to have a special affinity, or some agile fish took 
delight in whipping a few rounds of your line around, so 
that wrigglingly he had ample opportunity to break away 
from the hook before you could disengage your tackle. 
Again your line would become so snarled up after a good 
bite that you had to spoil a second chance by boldly walk- 
ing up to the spot and diving your arm shoulder deep to 
free once more the branch and line mixture. The small 
trout were very annoying, for they were continually 
stripping a hook too large for them to swallow, and the 
larger fish were few and far between. We never had 
over 10ft. of line in use, and when crawling stoop-shoul- 
dered through the maze of fallen trees and branches, 
which ever obstructed our path, we had only the gutted 
hook dangling from the end of our rod held in front of 
us. Between these frequent basketworks of fallen trees 
we had short, clear pools, but the latter were usually void 
of trout, and, prosperingly and swearingly we had to 
keep traveling through brushy heaps to get the fish. The 
native advice of a simple hook and line was fully demon- 
strated before the day was done. 
At last we arrived at the limit of the river's reach for 
that day's fishing, and, finding a suitable place where we 
could leave the stream, we waded out and commenced 
our journey back to our starting point of the morning 
through the unchopped woods. Before doing so, however, 
a fresh inunction of exposed face, neck and hands with 
our mosquito cream was an essential. The unevenness of 
the wooded ground, together with the stifling heat of the 
atmosphere, rendered our walk very toilsome. 
We had seen the little red squirrels chatteringly do the 
tree- trunk act across the brook several times during the 
day, but we dreamed not that we should have to follow 
their plan before sundown. We reached a beautiful and 
level moss-covered depression that betokened a solid 
foundation and smooth withal. It looked a relief from 
our previously troubled walking, and into this we stepped 
and went thigh deep, into the muddiest mud we had 
ever tried to bottom, and looking up for help, we saw our 
companion tripping across the bog-hole on a fallen tree 
trunk. After escaping the deception we did likewise 
with fear and trembling, lest we slid into the center of 
the same familiar morass in our Blond in act. 
As we hastily worried along to keep up with our native 
woodsman-friend, brushing the tangled branches from 
across our path with our advanced and elevated arm, 
perspiring, tired and surrounded by hundred of blood- 
sucking mosquitoes, we philosophized silently on the fool- 
hardiness ot the trout fisher, who rushes beyond the 
borders of civilization to catch the supposedly bigger and 
more numerous fish, usually to find when he reaches the 
desired waters, that dozens of his kind have had the 
same idea as himself an l ahead of him have cleaned out 
all the big fish. This we learned had occurred here. A 
camping party the week before had carried away it was 
said, 1,500 trout, caught where we had that day fished. 
At last we reached the cherished quiet of the Indian's 
log house where our patient horses awaited us. Here we 
waited and counted our fish, finding that in the three 
creeks we had 47, 25 and 23 respectively, or a total of 95 
trout, just beyond the legal limit in size. We had only 
one trout that would weigh half a pound, and this 
and the larger catch belonged to the man who knew 
every inch of the best ground. Oh trouting! Oh boarding 
place! To the latter we turned our thoughts, tired, weary, 
disappointed, and hitching up, we finally traveled beyond 
the last stump and reached our supper table, which then 
was more harmonious to us than the rippling waters, 
and more electrical than the trout's bite. A good meal of 
fresh trout, potatoes and coffee, with good bread, butter 
and excellent spring water, formed a most refreshing re- 
past before which our ruffled temper smoothed out to a 
pacific state — proving that heart and stomach must be 
very near together. 
We had fished for the iris-hued tiger of the purling 
brook. We had got caught in the branchy mesh. We 
had felt the thrill of the trout-bite, and the piercing de- 
light of the mosquito's trunk with its subsequent mound 
of cutaneous tenderness. We had tried to fathom the 
bottomless moss-covered bog, and tripped the overhanging 
tree trunk; and after all this delightful conquest we had 
reached the quiet of our clean boudoir and our sleep- 
inspiring bed. The weather alone in its torrid heat tor- 
mented us. 
The turn of our fishing tide had come, however, for at 
the supper table we had been told that to-morrow we 
would try a better, deeper part of the same stream, lower 
down where the fish were larger, the stream less acces- 
sible, but less fished: and thus musing we fell into a 
troubled sleep nursing our weakening hope for better 
things of the morrow. 
The sun rose in a hot and clear sky the next morning, 
and after an early breakfast we mounted our Baddle 
horses at six o'clock and started for a spot two miles 
lower down the stream of yesterday's exploits and four 
miles from home. Following the lumber road past 
clearings with present stumps, and where the settlers had 
or were using spring-harrows to scratch in the scattered 
grain and with luxuriant results in those places earlier 
treated — thus reducing the richly vegetable soil — we rode 
along our heavy steeds for a mile to the forest's edge, 
and here struck the main Indian trail of the* northern 
end of the reservation. This was a narrow well beaten 
path, deeply trodden by the shoeless hoofs of the cat-like 
Indian ponies, and interrupted frequently by large stones, 
and curving sinuously around the end of frequent wind- 
fall giant trees. At the end of the second mile we reached 
a spring bog-hole over which a dilapidated corduroy road 
still remained and over which our civilized horses were 
unsafe travelers. Here we had to part company with 
our horses — for which we were thankful because of their 
heavily jolting gait— and send them back by a boy who 
had accompanied us. 
Just beyond the bridge we noticed a young squaw 
astride a pony's back approaching. The horse was 
loaded besides with full sacks. Behind was a second 
pony likewise loaded with blankets and bundles, an'd 
still further behind was seen a young Indian buck 
a-foot. The ponies tripped aross the logged bridge without 
a falter. The squaw looked neither at my companion nor 
myself and we felt a little aggrieved at the slight — he 
said it was my fault; I declared that it was because of his 
presence — but it still remains a nvyBtery, She passed on 
and we quizzed the man. He talked English and we 
ascertained that the Indian woman was his squaw, and 
that they were going to town to sell a load of slippery elm 
bark and barter it off for groceries, 
For a moment I may be permitted to digress in order 
to refer to the Indians' method of trading. He is said to 
find out the value of his wares, and after receiving the 
money he moves around the country store, asks the price 
of some selected article aad pays for this, waiting for his 
change. After this is given to him he or she looks for 
another article and pays for this likewise, and so they con- 
tinue until the pile of money is gone. Now gathering up 
the articles purchased they are loaded upon the ponies 
and the latter are led to the outskirts of the hamlet 
where the squaws mount crosswise, and ride off. I 
noticed one young squaw come to town in a purple 
woolen skirt, a thin shirt waist and moccasin-covered feet, 
and her buck was gallant enough to assist her to the 
ground in front of our house. Beware, girls, of your cher- 
ished monopoly of correct dress; and you young men that 
the manners of the Indian do not outshine, you! 
Resuming our story, we parted with the Indian who 
seemed loath to leave us, and my companions hinted that 
he was trying to get to leeward of some firewater, but 
this we did not have, and briskly walking off to catch up 
with his squaw, he disappeared. After a drink from a 
hat brim of the clear, cold spring water, we started on 
the two miles' tramp further along the trail. After travel- 
ing half this distance we struck off northward on "a 
blind'' or little used trail, and traveling this obliquely 
toward the river, up hill and down, over and around 
manv tree trunks and bog holes, we at last heard the 
running water, and descending a bank we saw the rip- 
pling water only a few feet away. We were consider- 
ably heated by the walk, and tried to rest and cool off, 
but the mosquito pests again surrounded us, necessitating 
another application of the oily mixture to the now raised 
or swollen and tender areas of yesterday's bites, for we 
were now more than able to mitigate their ferocious 
attacks. My forehead, neck and back of head were as if 
attacked with nettlewash, and painfully tender to the 
touch, the menthol-pennyroyal kept off the majority, 
however. When riding in the woods and wading in the 
brook the flies bothered us the least, and while walking 
the forest the foremost man got the lion's share of them. 
We had with us to-day as companion, guide and fellow 
fisherman, a Mr. Kauff man, and after getting our rods 
together and the line drawn out, he took out a gut leader 
and began to tie this to a gutted hook with a sinker 
attached. I had been watching him for a pointer, and 
dared not to audibly express myself as to the requisite 
tackle for the new neighborhood. I rejoiced, however, 
when he told me that we would find clearer water, i. e., 
wider and longer pond holes, and that I could use a 6ft. 
gut leader with a wormed hook and split shot sinker on 
the end, and a dropper fly further up if I wished. I so 
rigged up my line, using a royal-coachman for the fly 
and with the others started into that stream with greater 
hope for a better day. My two companions crossed the 
stream and walked further up the other side to some falls 
to start in there. I was told to fish down until the water 
got too deep for my thigh boots, then to get out and walk 
in the woods half a mile further down and start in again. 
We found the water deeper, fewer tree trunks to meander 
among, and though the stream was full of small trout, 
we occasionally basketed a better fish, but yet too small. 
Our lines again were too limited in length for much use 
of the fly, yet occasionally, under the shadow of a bush, 
a trout would snatch at it, and I landed a few fair fish this 
way. My own fishing for this day was, however, largely 
spoiled because of my manner of wading, and the best 
reaches of the river were too deep for me, and when 
night arrived and we three had met at the crossing of the 
main Indian trail, I had fully determined that on the 
morrow I would leave my boots at home and follow the 
stream in old clothes only, from start to finish, as they 
had done. 
The day's catch consisted of 64, 49 and 46 fish, or a 
total of 159. The fish averaged larger, but still the largest 
weighed only half a pound, and this and the largest score 
was again caught by the one who showed us the way. 
With decreasing sunlight we trudged the trail homeward 
to the spring hole where we had parted with our horses, 
and expected to find them awaiting us, but they were not 
yet there, so after a drink of the pure water we dressed 
our trout, finding a few so decomposed from the heat that 
we had to throw them away. When this was ended our 
boy arrived with the horses, and we walked them home. 
This evening we were very tired but not hopeless, for we 
had had a better river, better results, and with better 
plans for the next day, we felt that alone — my companion 
und myself — we could have a still much more enjoyable 
time. With such expectations, and after a good supper, 
of trout again, and another bath, we sought our beds. 
Chicago, III. Dr. ALFRED HlNDB. 
[TO BE CONCLUDED.] 
Who Was "Iadahel?" 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Reading lately Thoreau's "Concord and Merrimac," I 
encountered therein the following quotation from the poet 
Gower, a contemporary and friend of Chaucer: 
"And Iadahel, as saith the boke, 
First made nette and fyshes to lie; 
Of hunting eke he found the chace, 
Which now is knowe in many place, . 
A teute of clothe, with cords and stake, 
He sette up first and did it make." 
Now, why wasn't Mr. Gower, while he was about it, a 
little more explicit? What is the title of the "boke" 
which records the deeds of Iadahel, and who was Iadahel 
anyway? I have painfully searched the Scriptures and a 
concordance and encyclopedia, but failed to get on his 
track. It is too late by several hundred years to question 
Mr. G., so I appeal to Forest and Stream, whose other 
readers will doubtless be as glad as I to learn something 
more of the gentleman who is claimed to have been the 
first fisherman, hunter and camper-out. In the meantime 
why would not "Iadahel Club" be an appropriate name 
for any new association of anglers? 
The only objection that -occurs to me is the possibility 
of a profane reply from some unregenerate visitor when 
asked "what kind of a time he had" at the club. 
Truthful Jambs. 
ANGLING NOTES. 
Loch Leven Trout. 
It is generally known, I think, that the TJ. S. Fish 
Commission is erecting a hatchery in the State of Ver- 
mont, and of this establishment Commissioner McDonald 
writes: "The development of the Vermont station will 
be exclusively with reference to work with the Salmonidce, 
the species handled baing the landlocked salmon, the 
Eastern brook trout, the European brook trout, the rain- 
bow trout and the Loch Leven trout. To this series we 
will probably add the black-spotted trout." 
The common brook trout of Europe is called in Great 
Britain brown or yellow trout, and in this country it is 
known as brown trout, or Von Behr trout, the name given 
to it by the U. S. Fish Commission in honor of the donor 
of the first eggs sent to the Commission; and it is furthpr 
known, inappropriately, as German brout trout. The 
Loch Leven trout is found in a lake of the same name in 
Scotland, and is highly esteemed as a game fish. 
Some years ago I examined some Loch Leven and some 
brown trout in ponds side by side at the Cold Spring 
Harbor station of the New York Fish Commission, and 
could discover no difference between them, and from 
that time to this I have been trying to find out if any 
difference really existed. Dr. John D. Quackenbos, of 
New York city, who has fished Loch Leven and who was 
the first individual to purchase Loch Leven trout eggs to 
stock American waters, wrote me: 
^ American Testimony.* 
"My comment on the Loch Leven matter is that there 
are two distinct trout in Loch Leven; the handsome 
native charr known to tradition have become extinct. 
One species of trout is the common fario or brown trout 
of Europe; the other is a silvery, black-spotted land- 
locked sea trout. No angler cares for the brown trout in 
the Loch, all are eager for the silvery beauty. It is the 
presence of this fish that enables Sir Graham Mont- 
gomery to lease the water to the Loch Leven Angling 
Association for £1,000 annually, and the company to pay 
a dividend of 10 per cent, to its share holders. For cen- 
turies the Salmo levenensis has ranked far above all other 
trout in Britain, and it is now regarded as the descendant 
of an anadromous fish whose means of communication 
with the ocean was suddenly cut off by some convulsion 
of nature and whose acclimatization in Loch Leven was 
thus rendered compulsory. The Loch Leven trout attains 
a weight of lOlbs. ; the ordinary brown trout of the Loch 
rarely reaches 2lbs. When I hear people talking of buy- 
ing Loch Leven eyed ova at Howietoun Fishery, and 
bringing them to America and hatching them, and hav- 
ing them turn out nothing but common brown trout, I 
simply remark, 'You did not get Loch Leven ova.' There 
is as much difference between fario and levenensis as ex- 
ists between a Kentucky thoroughbred and a mule. He 
who has caught both will appreciate the comparison." 
Doubtless it was such testimony as this, for Dr. Quack- 
enbos stands not alone regarding the superiority of one 
trout over the other as they are found in the loch, that 
has encourged our National and State Fish Commis- 
sions to propagate and distribute the Loch Leven trout in 
the waters of this country. I procured some Loch Leven 
fry on several occaaions, planted them and they turned 
out to be brown trout, exactly as they did at the Long 
Island hatchery, and this was further incentive, if any 
was needed, to find if possible just what we are planting 
under the name of Loch Leven trout. 
I applied to Mr. Marston in London to aid me, and he 
sent me a letter from an English fish breeder who rears 
the Loch Leven and brown trout in his ponds and who 
said he could discover no difference between them, either 
in coloring or markings. Later Mr. Marston wrote me 
again on the subject as follows: 
English Te stimony. 
"At Loch Leven I have seen the silvery trout (delicious 
eating) and the ordinary spotted trout like other S. fario. 
The only trout sold as Loch Leven are like S. fario more 
than sea trout, and Sir James Maitland has stocked Loch 
Leven for many years now with these so-called Loch 
Levens which I think must be a cross between the de- 
scendant of the sea or white trout which became land- 
locked early in this century, or comparatively early. The 
present Loch Levens have a peculiar green shade on the 
back when you look down on them in the water in a can. 
I have never seen any of the silvery Loch Leven fish in 
any lots I have bought from Sir James or from Mr. 
Andrews. I will ask Mr. Mallock of Perth; he is the 
champion Loch Leven angler, and something of a natur- 
alist, and may help us." 
It will be observed that Dr. Quackenbos land Mr. Mars- 
ton both refer to a silvery trout as being the type of the 
Loch Leven trout in its natural habitat. In this country 
I have been able to learn of but one instance where the 
Loch Leven trout retain this silvery appearance beyond 
the fry stage of their existence. This is in the famous 
Castalia Creek in Ohio. Mr. H. C. Bowman, a member 
of the Castalia Club, has told me that the Loch Leven 
trout planted in that stream "have a blue silvery sheen 
without any black spots." Brown trout in the same 
stream are in color and general appearance identically as 
they are found in other waters, here and abroad. 
Whether the Loch Leven trout retain this silvery appear- 
ance and lack the red spots beyond a certain age, even in 
Castalia Creek, I do not know, and in what fo lows it is 
well to remember that at the time Mr. Bowman wrote 
me the Loch Leven trout had not been long established in 
Castalia. The following is what Mr. Mallock reported to 
Mr. Marston: 
Scotch Testimony. 
"In answer to your query as to whether there are two 
sorts of trout in Loch Lsven, the ordinary brown trout 
and the silvery fellow hfce the sea trout, so far as my ob- 
servation goes, which extends over twenty years, there .is 
no difference in the appearance of the trout that are 
taken. The young from an ounce up to nearly a pound 
are all silvery, tnickly covered with dark spots, and 
greenish on the back. After these trout have been up 
stream, spawned, and returned to the loch, they have 
lose their silvery appearance, and have become more yel- 
low. They also change their habits in rising to the 
* As I have explained, I have been gathering information about this 
trout for some time, searching in every possioie direction. The letter 
from which I quote is not dated with the year, but I believe it was 
written early in 1894, and possibly Dr. Quackenbos may wish to revise 
it in the light of more recent information on the subject. 
