April 6, 1895. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
267 
for the fact that they are so much bolder at night than 
in the day time. 
Colebkook, N. EL, March 17.— I ha^e had fine sport at 
Diamond Ponds after the day's pleasure, supper and camp 
work was done, fly-fishing at night. Amos Cummings 
and myself would attach a couple, of light, attractive flies 
to our leaders, run our boat out to some good point, set a 
reflector lamp on the bow of the boat, thus throwing the 
light on the water; we would stand in the stern, in rear 
of the light; this would gi^e us exciting sport, and as a 
rule, larger fish taken than in daytime. 
Charles Perry, an old trapper and guide, told me he 
had fine sport fishing the same way at Third Connecticut 
Lake. < 
Diamond Ponds are on the Maine Central Railroad, the 
station Colebrook, N. H. A nice, camp is kept by M. B. 
Noyes, a genial host. The ponds a ford fine trout fishing, 
as no other fish inhabit the waters. G. A. G. 
The several articles which have recently appeared in 
Forest and Stream in relation tonight fishing for trout 
have contained much of interest to me, for one of those 
"epsodes" which come to everyone which follows the fas- 
cinating sport of trout fishing, came to me in the night. 
This is the story: 
Only a few years ago I ran across what is known among 
the boys as a ' 'snap." I was lining at the time in Worces- 
ter, and together with as persistent and enthusiastic a 
crowd of anglers as any city can boast, had whipped 
about e^ery stream, large and small, within a radius of 
thirty miles, until courage was about exhausted. 
Then I ran across a good thing, and I didn't do a thing 
to it but fish it. Starting out at midnight, and returning 
twenty-four hours later, I kept the matter of where I go 
'em, etc., pretty well inside the family, and I did get 'em 
every time I went after them. And such beauties! The 
boys nearly had a fit when I showed them a basketful 
that would average, a pound apiece on my return one 
night. 
The next spring I fixed it up to take a friend with me, 
and that's how I happen to have this experience. The 
first time we visited my "snap" it was beastly cold, and 
up to noon we did nothing, so we planned another trip, 
this time leaving town on an evening train and driving 
the last half of the way. 
This brought us to the biook about 3 a. m., and not 
wishing to disturb our friend, the farmer who usually lies 
abed as late as 3.30, or, on Sundays, even till 4, we drove 
down a cross-road that crossed the stream to see how the 
water was. The night was still and warm, and the 
moon, which was growing pale, gave just light enough 
to make out the condition of the water. All signs 
seemed to be right. As we stood on the bridge, ten or 
twelve feet above the water, looking down into the "big 
hole" we noticed a tremendous wake shoot across it. 
Visions of a monster trout, of course, filled my mind, 
but Oliver would not have it. "Trout! You're crazy, 
that's a muskrat. A trout to leave a wake like that 
would weigh five pounds." 
Now Oliver has a way of passing judgment on things, 
that leaves no room for further argument unless you 
know him about as well as I do, and the wake appearing 
again just at this time, I made a frantic dash under the 
buggy seat for my heavy rod and reel. 
I jointed up and felt the line through the guides, you 
could, hardly see the rod, and attaching a No. 2 sneck 
well covered with nicely scoured "enticers," I stepped 
onto the bridge just in time to see a trout of about one- 
half pound rod up to the surface. But, holy smoke! 
what jumped then? "There," said Oliver, "there's your 
trout j ust jumped off the bank. Trout! I thought you 
had fished long enough to know a trout from a rat!" 
Well, that last speech had weakened me a little, but I 
had seen the small one for sure, so I dropped in, and al- 
most immediately felt him. I let him have it, and very 
meekly said to Oliver, "I've got him already." 
"Got him? Got nothing! Put him right up here on the 
bridge where we can see him. That's what I'd do if I had 
him. I'd put him right up here on the bridge, ' ' 
Of course, that's not the way to handle a trout, not in 
the d tylight, at least, but I didn't know much about 
trout fishing at night then. Oliver is also very impet- 
uous. He does things with a dash. His strokes are all 
bold ones. That's his way, and that's why he is such a 
prince of good fellows to shoot or fish with. To make any 
impression on him you must do your work on impulse, 
something out of the regular, and I just itched to der- 
rick that trout about forty feet into the air and "right 
up jn the bridge." I knew I had a strong rig through- 
out, so I grasped the rod and line just above the reel and 
taking up the slack, I braced myself and hove a mighty 
heave, expecting to see a half-pound trout soar the 
length of my line, but I didn't. I did, however, see a 
trout come out of the water about four feet and fall back 
with th a dullest "sickeningest" thud I ever heard. If a 
Newfoundland dog had fallen off the bridge he wouldn't 
have made more' of a splash. Oliver said he would have 
weighel five pounds if an ounce, but I didn't say any- 
thing at all just then. I had parted a leader of good sal- 
mon gut, and lost the largest trout I was ever fast to. 
Later in the day we were again at the "big hole," Oliver 
on the bridge and I down on the bank just beneath him. 
Suddenly a figure sailed over my head and landed in the 
grass, while wild shouts of "landing net! quick! quick! 
with the landing," explained the trouble, but he was 
only a one and one-half-pounder. 
Asa farmer, who came down to learn the cause of the 
shouts, remarked, "Well, he's quite a nice one, but he 
ain't the old big one that lies under the bridge. Lots o' 
people had hold on him, but the' can't no one get him 
out." And I knew it well as he did. But you can see 
how Oliver "put him right up onto the bridge" when he 
had hold of him. Not! That's quite a while ago, and I 
have not been able to get the old rascal yet, but I still 
have hopes. 
They'll rise all right at night if you ax>proach them 
right, and that's not all I've learned about night-fishing, 
but it's enough for now. 
Boston, Mass., March 21. C. H. Morse. 
Salmon Fishing For Sale. 
Freehold on the beet fishing waters of the Southwest Mirimichi 
River (Burnt Hills). For terms and particulars apply to Thomas 
J. Conroy, 310 Broadway, New York City.— Adv. 
NOTES OF AN ANGLER. 
ft has often been noticed that the same kind of fish 
cannot be caught in the same way in different localities. 
Whether it is because of the different kinds of food they 
are accustomed to is a matter of conjecture, but the fact 
remains. It sometimes seems as if fish become educated 
up to a particular way of being caught. 
In a town in northern plassachusetts, near the New 
Hampshire border, the writer was once passing his sum- 
mer vacation with a party of friends. ,The brooks ] and 
ponds of the neighborhood were pretty thoroughly ex- 
plored by us, and fair fishing obtained. One day our wan- 
derings led us to a lirook of moderate size, with plenty of 
rocks and pools, clear as crystal, and just the place in 
which trout love to hide. We got down from our wagon, 
hitched our horse, and made ready our rods and lines, 
with every prospect of a successful afternoon's fishing. 
The brook ran along through the woods a few rods away 
from a farm house, and as we were arranging how we 
should work the stream, the owner of the farm came 
sauntering up with that lazy curiosity characteristic of 
his kind. After passing the greetings of the day, we en- 
tered into conversation, and our talk ..naturally fell on 
the subject of fishing. He said there were plenty of fish 
in the ponds and streams round about, and that he never 
failed to get a good string out of the very brook by which 
we were standing. We asked if he had any objection 
to our trying the stream. "Lord bless ye! no. But heow 
ye goin' to ketch 'em?" We showed him our rods and 
lines, which he examined with a quizzical look on his 
face. "I don't think ye'll ketch nary trout with them 
'ere contrivances; not in this brook, that's sartain." 
Nevertheless, we thought we could, and we started off to 
work the brook, confident in our ability to get the fish if 
there were any. However, at the end of two hours of 
hard work we had to confess ourselves beaten, and back 
we trudged to the wagon, our efforts all for naught. As 
we were harnessing up, the old farmer again approached 
us. "Wal, what luck?" We told him and an amused 
smile broke over his face, as if to say, "Didn't I tell ye 
so?" We told him that we didn't believe there was a 
single trout in his brook, or that there ever had been any, 
for we certainly had seen no signs of them. "Oh! yes, 
there be, but 'taint everybody that knows how to ketch 
'em. I've seen lots o' city folks come here jes' like you've 
done, with all these 'ere fancy riggins, an' knowin' all 
about trout, an' never ketch a one. They're fine fishermen 
they think, but somehow or other the fish don't seem to 
bite for 'em." 
We were a little piqued at his remarks, for we had 
always had our share of luck, and flattered ourselves 
that we were not wholly ignorant of trout-fishing. How- 
ever, curious to know something of his methods and the 
reason for our not getting even a rise, we asked him to 
tell us the secret about the fish in his particular brook. 
"Waal," said he, "there's nuthin' like knowin' the ways 
of the fish, and studyin' 'em. There is plenty o' trout 
in that there stream, but they don't notice nary hook 
and line. When I want a mess o' fish, I jes' take a tin 
pail an' a stick, an' I hold the meouth o' the pail in front 
of the hole where the trout ought ter be, an' poke the 
stick in the hole, an' the crittur comes out inter the pail 
jes' as nice as can be. ' ' 
It was in vain that we tried to convince him that his 
method was unsportsmanlike; when he went fishing, he 
went to fish, not to "come the scientific with fancy rig- 
gins." 
In tramping about through the woods of Tahiti, I came 
to a shaded pool, a bath in whose clear, cool waters was 
most refreshing after the heat of the day. The pool along 
the banks was filled with numbers of ula, or prawns of 
large size, an 1 1 was at once attracted by t he prospect of 
future toothsome dishes of these delicious sheli-fi«h. 
When a youngster, I had caught all my shrimps for smelt 
bait in the salt marshes near Boston, using a long-handled 
scoop-net. As these ula were nothing but shrimps of 
l^irerer size, I soon perfected my plans for the morrow, 
when I intended to make a descent on the pool. On reach- 
ing the village, I got an old sailor to rig me up a net with 
a good stout handle, and the next forenoon I started on 
my tramp for the pool, carrying a good-sized basket for 
the fish, of which I had no doubt I should bring back a 
goodly number. My native friends, as I passed, inquired 
what I was going to do, and on being told, expressed 
doubt as to my success. But I knew what I was about, 
and in the evening on my return, I would show them 
that I knew how to catch fish. I reached the pool, and 
saw the ula, as before, in great numbers, hanging on to 
the banks, a foot or two beneath the surface, and almost 
motionless in the water. I dipped my net carefully and 
steadily, anticipating a rich haul, but no sooner had the 
net gotten within an inch of the creatures, than off like 
lightning they darted. Again and again I tried, but 
with no success, and I had to return to the village, beaten 
and empty handed. My friends were on the lookout for 
me, and good-naturedly rallied me on my failure. They 
told me their way of catching the prawns, but I could 
not see why my own way should not have been successful, 
unless, as I prefaced, the prawns were accustomed to the 
native method, and found my way novel and strange. 
When a dish of ula is wanted, the women catch them 
with a running noose made of plaited fibre of cocoanut 
husk. The loop is lowered over the tail of the fish, and 
with a quick jerk the fisher lands her prey. I am con- 
vinced that in no other way can the ula of Tahiti be 
caught. 
A great delicacy with the Samoans is the palolo, or sea- 
worm, a s-^all stringy creature that visits the islands once 
a year. Its appearance is usually after full moon in No- 
vember, and the time of its coming is accurately calcula- 
ted by the natives. The palolo comes to the surface_ of 
the water in vast numbers an hour or two before sunrise, 
and disappears when the first rays of light break above 
the eastern horizon. A twelve-month elapses before it 
comes again, and the' brief interval of its stay is devoted 
by the natives to a fishing excursion in which every able- 
bodied person, young and old, takes part Canoes and 
boats of every description are pressed into the service, and 
long before daylight the waters about the reef-openings 
and entrances to the harbors are alive with a clamoring, 
shouting crowd, supplied with baskets, and vessels of all 
kinds,with which to scoop up the highly-prized morsels. 
The flickering lights of candle nuts and torches made the 
scene a highly picturesque one. A couple of hours be- 
fore sunrise the palolo begins to ascend from the clear 
depths below; a writhing, solid mass of worms of vari- 
ous colors, eagerly squirming upward to get their yearly 
glimpse of the outer world. Then follows a commotion 
and uproar of voices as the myriads appear at the surface; 
every beast and basket is plied, and every hand is busy 
reaping a rich harvest. As the sun's disc comes above 
the eastern waters, the wriggling mass slowly sinks till 
lost to sight among the coral branches below. Then the 
canoes turn shoreward with their precious catch, and the 
day is .given over to feasting and rejoicing. Presents of 
palolo are sent, carefully wrapped in green leaves, to 
friends in distant parts of the islands — a delicate atten- 
tion, and one that is highly appreciated by the receipients. 
Uncooked, the palolo would hardly prove an appetiz- 
ing dish to a foreigner, but when boiled it is by no means 
unsavory. J. B. Briggs. 
MAINE NOTES. 
Mr. Henry Pierce, of the King and Bartlett camps, 
Maine, has just returned from a short visit to his pre- 
serve. He went in with Mr. O. W. Whitcomb and 
friends of Farmington, Maine, and the party had some 
very good sport while away. A number of togtie was 
caught through the ice at Big Spencer Lake, the largest 
one weighing twel ve pounds, was brought out with them. 
Although the King and Bartlett preserve is already noted 
for its abundance of fish and game, a strong effort is now 
being made to multiply and restock it. The main 
camps are beautifully situated on the shores of King and 
Bartlett lakes, and into this sheet of water have recently 
been placed 225,000 trout eggs. Into Little King Lake, 
about One mile from the camp, they have put 15,000 sal- 
mon eggs, in addition to 700 yearling salmon put in the 
same lake last fall. A new fish hatchery has been built, 
and other improvements to be added this spring are a 
large and roomy family cabin at the main camp, and also 
a new camp at the right of the outlet of the lake seme 
distance away, for the accommodation of any party of 
sportsmen desiring to locate in the woods away from 
other visitors. A number of maps of this county are in 
existence, all seeming more or less imperfect in tracing 
the trails and giving the distance from point to point 
where good fishing may be had. Mr. Leow Keach, of 
Boston, recognizing this fact, has lately produced a map, 
which, in the opinion of the writer (w ho spent some time 
on the preserve last fall) is a molel of accuracy, and v.'iil 
be of great benefit to visiting sportsmen. Horseshoe, 
Parker — noted for its deer — and big Spencer Lake, with 
the trails leading thereto, are faithfully outlined. And 
Spencer stream, one of the most famous places in Maine 
for brook trout, is traced in all its windings through 
the preserve. 
In the debate on the trout bill in the Legislature on 
Thursday of week before last, the Massachusetts Fish and 
Game, Somerset and Megantic clubs had to take a severe 
scoring about their alleged sensitiveness on the subject of 
liver fed trout, from the lips of Mr. Atwood, of Plymouth. 
If organized sportsmen do not oppose this measure, 
where can the opposition to it be looked for? 
Quite an opposition to the Megantic Club has shown it- 
self at times in that section of Maine lying near the pre- 
serve. The acts of the corporation have been unjustly 
criticised, and individual members have been scored 
through motives not altogether creditable, coming from 
those who have received benefits. That the club is a dis- 
tinct benefit to the people living near the preserve is 
shown by the treasurer's report just issued. This report 
shows a larger amount in receipts and expenditures dur- 
ing the past year than ever before in the history of the 
club. When possible, supplies have been purchased from 
store-keepers near by, in that way giving them the profits 
of the business. There have been expended for supplies 
and wages during the year, either on the preser ve or in 
its close vicinity, $9,000. In addition to this, over $5,000 
have been paid tby individual members to guides and 
others for personal services. These figures are careful 
estimates taken from the club books and speak for them- 
selves; certainly they do not show that the corporation 
has been a detriment to the surrounding country. The 
club will soon issue a new and elaborate report, devoted 
to illustrations of camps and preserves in general. Dues 
for the coming year have been fixed at $20. Of this 
amount, $15 will be applied to running expenses, and the 
balance ($5) toward the payment for land recently pur- 
chased on Big Island Pond. Hackle. 
ANGLING NOTES. 
SPAWNING OF RAINBOW TROUT. 
A State Fish Commissioner, writing under date of 
March 5, says: We have jeceived from the U. S Fish 
Commission 100,000 rainbow trout eggs, and they are 
hatching at the present time with our native brook 
trout eggs, while the parent rainbow trout that we have 
in the ponds at the station do not spawn until the middle 
of this month. Are there two varieties of rainbow trout, 
or what is the cause of this variation in the time of 
spawning? There is but one species of the rainbow trout 
which Jordan has declared to be the young of the steel- 
head trout, once called steel-head salmon, but the rain- 
bow is most variable in its spawning habit. It is called 
a spring or summer spawning trout, and it does, as a 
rule, spawn between January and June, depending upon 
the water in which it is found, although it has been said 
that in various parts of California it may be found spawn- 
ing during every month of the twelve. "The first of 
these trout that were brought to this State began to 
spawn in March and continued to spawn until the last of 
May, and as little was then known by Eastern anglers 
about the habits of the rainbow, the facts concerning the 
spawning were spread abroad and formed a basis for all 
future calculations as to the spawning time of the fish. 
Special laws were enacted to make an open season for the 
fish different from that of other trout, but since that 
time the habits of the rainbow seem to have changed and 
have conformed so nearly to the habits of the native 
brook trout that the two species have been crossed. In 
my opinion it is a waste of time and money to propagate 
the rainbow trout for the purpose of stocking Eastern 
streams, as in a majority of cases when the fish have 
