FOREST AND STREAM. 
[JuLT 23, 1896. 
river. As I read the account of it in a distant territory 
the thought came, who will say to the boys, "A flock of 
geeae went north yesterday and the fish ought to bite 
good now," or "The bluebirds are building in our pear 
tree and it's time to go in a-swimmin'." Who indeed? 
The geese have gone north many times since, and the 
bluebirds nested in their old homes until the aged tree 
broke and left the stump, which I saw last year when on a 
pilgrimage to the place, but the poor torn and shapeless 
thing that was taken from the ice no longer notes the 
seasons by the comiog of the birds or by their nesting, 
Fbed Mathee. 
SALMON POOLS OF THE GRAND 
CASCAPEDIA- 
Saginaw, Mich., July 14, — All the anglers seem to be 
telling their fish stories, and I have read with a good 
deal of pleasure their various tales as to big fish and num- 
bers of them. Now I wQl have my say, and will take a 
few leaves from my pocket memorandum book of this 
year's outing. 
First, we left Saginaw June 1. and arrived at our cot- 
tage on the Grand Cascapedia Wednesday, June 3. My 
friend Robert C. Lowry had preceded me three days and 
reported plenty of fish, he having taken the 40 pounder that 
he told the readers of Forest and Stream about a week 
or so ago. 
We were most of the day getting our cottage in order, 
for it had not been occupied since '94, as I was unable to 
get away from business last year, but my wife and the 
two youngsters, respectively three and six years old, were 
delighted to do the settling, while I got out the rods, 
oiled the lines and reels and put the leaders to soak. In 
the afternoon I went into the boat a little while with my 
friend Mr. Lowry and had the satisfaction of seeing him 
kill a 201b. fish. My wife concluded she would not begin 
her fishing until the following Monday, so with Peter and 
Wm. Barter in the boat Thursday morning, June 4, I 
started out, bound to do or die. I tried the Lowry Pool, 
where the 401b. fellow was taken a few days before, also 
the Icehouse Pool, with no success. Peter then said that 
a new pool seemed to have formed on the back of a piece 
of land I bought some years ago, where the Northwest 
Branch puts in, and I concluded to try it. I had not 
made half a dozen casts before an enormous fish took it 
with a tremendoiis rush, and the fun commenced. Never 
have I seen a better fighting fish. Once when he jumped 
5 or Oft. out of the water an exclamation was brought 
forth from everyone in the boat: ''A 40-pounder, cer- 
tainly." This branch of the river was new to us, and as 
the water waa high it proved dangerous, for many roots 
and trees were encountered in dangerous parts. The fish 
was now running down stream at a tremendous rate, and 
we were doing what we could to keep pace with him and 
to lead him out of the snags and pitfalls. Three separate 
times did he pass under the boat, and three separate times 
did I pass the rod around one end or the other without 
mishap. It was tiresome work, and though I had a good 
leader and put plenty of butt to him — for I usually kUl 
my salmon quickly — it must have been forty minutes 
before we had him safely in the boat, and he proved to be 
a prize indeed — 431bs., good and strong. As my oldest 
boy was with me, we immediately christened the new 
pool the Little Billy, and said it was the youngster that 
gave us luck. 
Of course there are always two where there is one, and 
if you get the second one you always think there is a 
third; and we were soon back, and dropping the fly in the 
same place soon was fast to a S61b. fish, as bright as silver 
could make it. It was a vicious fight, the salmon jump- 
ing a number of times, and once made as high a jump as 
I ever saw a fiBh make. He cleared the water at least 8ft. , 
but in less than twenty minutes we had it in the boat; and 
then trying for the third, raised one three times, but some- 
how or other did not hook it. 
This completed the day, and an excellent start it was. 
The next day 1 was rather unlucky. I saved two good 
fish, but lost three more, one by breaking the tip of my 
rod rather carelessly; the next one the hook came out of 
his mouth, and the third one I forgot myself and struck 
too hard, snapping the leader. 
June 9 it rained hard all day and we did nothing, and 
the next day we only fished a little while, as the water 
was dirty, though Lowry killed a 301b. bright fiah and also 
was fast to three kelts. As Peter had hurt his hand with 
the gaff the day before, I had him go to New Richmond to 
see the doctor about it, and took the two boys in the boat 
with me — Ellis and David. Neither one of them had ever 
gaffed a fish, and I gave my wife the pools that were 
allotted to me for the day and went on a voyage of ex- 
ploration further down the river, where we had some 
untried water, with the expectation, however, of finding 
the river still too high to fish itsuccessfully. The water was 
high, but I directed the boys where to hold the boat, and 
gradually creeping down over the ledge of the bar, cast 
into a deep, swirling pool that certainly looked good. 
All of a sudden there was a splash and a commotion and 
a fish darted after the fly, but missed it. Waiting about 
a minute, I put it back, and be came again with the same 
result. I concluded that the jig was up, but made one 
more effort with a faint heart. There was no rise, and as 
I was taking it out of the water to Jiake another cast Mr. 
Fish broke water at the same instant and I was doubly 
disgusted, for I had taken it clean away from him. I 
was dead certain he would not come again, but some- 
times the unexpected happens. I sat down, lit a cigar 
and waited about five minutes by the watch, and then 
carefully placed the silver doctor in the right spot; this 
time Mr, Salmon was not going to be fooled, for he nailed 
it instantly, and he was a Jim Dandy, How he did rush 
and tumble, jump, jig and do everything but sulkl For 
the water was heavy and we would not let him do that. 
Every time he attempted to rest I instructed my inexpe- 
rienced boatmen to get the boat below him so that we 
could haul him down stream, and it was done with good 
success. I had to kill this fish thoroughly before I dared 
trust one of the boys to use the gaff; consequently it took 
nearly three-quarters of an hour and we went down 
stream a good ways, but at last David struck, and struck 
well, but the fish weighed more than any of us had cal- 
culated, and he nearly threw the gaffer out of the boat. 
He hung on well and finally tugged him in, and then in 
his excitement jumped astride of the fish and struck him 
with hie fist. We had a good laugh at the boy, who 
went home that night fully a head taller, and a bigger 
man than a delegate to the PopuUsts' Gonyention, It was 
a beautiful fish, and weighed 41lbs. It was not so long, 
but extraordinarily deep and thick. An excellent photo- 
graph of it is hanging in my oflise now. 
The banner day was June 15, the day that Mr. Davis 
killed his thirteen fish. The water was just the right 
color, the river was full of salmon, and every one of them 
seemed to try to get the fly quicker than the' other one. I 
took three in the Ice House pool by lunch time, then sent 
to the house for my wife to come down and try her hand 
at it. She did, and took three more, while I, dropping 
below, lost one and put another in the boat. Mr. Lowry 
that day got four, making eleven fish that we saved. 
I cannot help mentioning an incident of the day, viz, , 
the killing by me of the first salmon I ever killed with a 
trout rod, one of 25lbs. The fish were rising so well I 
concluded to try it with an 8oz rod that Devine made for 
me two years ago, 10ft, 6in. long, with . lots of backbone. 
I had, however, my regular trout reel, with about GOyds. 
of trout line on it, a salmon leader and a moderate-sized 
dusty-miller. The fish missed the fly the first time he 
came up, but was well hooked the second time, and made 
as lively and pretty a fight as one ever saw; he jumped 
three or four times, and seemed to fight quicker than with 
the salmon rod. It was exciting, and the little rod stood 
it beautifully, so that when the fish was in the boat, after 
about fifteen minutes' work, the rod was as straight as 
when it was first taken from the case. 
After doing this so well I frequently cast with the trout 
rod, as it was easier than handling the heavy salmon rod, 
and the result was that I killed four salmon with iflfall 
with the same fly. One of the fish weighed STlbs,, and I 
was just thirty-one minutes bringing him to gaff. 
At the end of two weeks Mr. Lowry left for home. We 
figured up our record, and he had taken twelve fish, aver- 
age weight ST^lbs. ; my wife had taken seven fish, average 
weight 24ilbs. ; I had been lucky with big fellows, and 
had taken thirteen, averaging 30f lbs, , and it strikes me 
this is pretty nearly top notch for weight, and I would 
like to hear who has beaten it. 
In the order they were killed, the weights were as fol- 
lows. If only the last two had been left out how the av- 
erage would have been helped up: 43, 26, 23, 26, 33, 41, 
28, 43, 25, 35, 37, 18 and 21lbs. 
Up to this time Mrs. Mershon had been very fortunate, 
having boated every fish that had taken her fly. 
The next week was devoted mostly to taking the big 
sea trout that were coming in in large numbers. Mrs. 
M. had the misfortune to hook an i lose a very large sa'- 
mon. She was well below it when it dashed up stream 
and around a tree that was all roots and branches; and 
after the line was well wound around it jumped to show 
its disdain for fishing tackle. My wife's largest trout 
was 4f lbs., mine was 4Ubs., but it was not unusual for 
either one of us to get from fifteen to twenty trout in our 
day's fishing. The smallest one was l^lbs. and most of 
them over 2^1b8. 
There was not a fly or moequito to bother us. We did 
not even put the screens in the windows at our house. 
Salmon were to be seen every day and everywhere, and 
on June 26, in one of the lower pools, we counted twelve 
salmon. They seemed to be coming in all the time, and 
were the best fighters I have seen in years. This was the 
report from nearly everyone we met. 
All too soon the time came for going home. The boys 
must have their Fourth of July firecrackers, so on the 
morning of June 39 we bade good-bye to the Grand Casca- 
pedia and its beautiful hills, and left the grand old river still 
shimmering in the morning light, a thing of beauty and 
a joy forever. - W. B. Mershon. 
IN THE AD IRON PACKS. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Our party, consisting of J. D. Brooks, J. J. R^duer and 
Wm. M. Brownell, of New York, went trout fishing in 
the Adirondacks the last week of May. Oar route was 
via D. & H. R. R. to Port Henry, on Lake Champlain, 
thence by stage to Mineville, a distance of about eight 
miles, where we were fortunate in securing for guide 
John J. Howe. A drive of thirty-two miles over a fairly 
good mountain road brought us to the Boreas River, 
where we secured good accommodations at reasonable 
rates with a family by the name of Liberty. 
Our first fishing was in Sand Pond, where we fished 
two days, catching 161 trout. The largest, weighing 
Silbs. , was caught by Mr. Brownell, and was weighed at 
the pond by Mr. Brooks; it was then dressed by the guide 
and taken to the house, where he was again weighed and 
tipped the scales at 2ilbs. This trout was caught on a 
Chub- tail, which seems to be the favorite bait in this 
particular pond. Mr. Brooks said he had lost one about 
twice as big as he was drifting along the south shore and 
humming: 
The hungry and feeen to the top are leaping, 
The lazy and fat in the depths are sleeping. 
Fishing is fine when the pool is muddy. 
Broiling is rich when the coals are ruddy. 
The honor of losing the largest fish, however, was dis- 
puted by Mr. Brownell, who claimed to have lost one 
over twice as large. This was a surprise to Brooks and 
the guide, because they had not seen Mr. Brownell visit 
the bait basket for more than an hour. 
Our next fishing was in Dergen Brook, a small stream 
near Sand Pond; the fish were small and scarce and an 
hour's fishing was enough for us in that stream. 
We fished next day in the Boreas River, where we 
caught twenty-three beauties, the smallest weighing ^Ib. 
We then started for Underwood, about twenty miles 
north by the way of dead waters. Underwood is a little 
hamlet of but one house and a barn. The house is known 
as New Pond Inn, and is run as a summer resort by one 
Mark Sherman, the "King of the Loggers," who knows 
very little about fishing, but can tell a pretty good bear 
atory. 
We stayed at New Pond Inn two days, the first of which 
we fished in Moss Pond, a small but very deep pond. We 
had very poor success, not getting a single strike, although 
the guide told us it was a great pond to fish in a little later 
in the season. 
The next day we tried the Boquet River, which tumbles 
down tho mountain about one mile from the inn. The 
river is alive with trout, but they are very small. In fact 
we caught but one large enough to take away. I think it 
would be greatly to the advantage of the gamekeeper of 
that district to visit the stream. 
We next turned our attention to the Barton Pond 
stream, near Mineville, from which Mr. Turnbull, ex- 
paymaster of the mines, said some fine fish had been 
taken. 
We had fished probably a quarter of a mile down the 
stream when Mr, Brooks, who had just cast a brown 
dume fly into a deep, dark eddy that came boiling and 
foaming from under an old half submerged hemlock log, 
saw a splash in the water and felt a sudden tug at his line 
that nearly yanked his rod from his hand. He yelled to 
Mr, Brownell, who was casting near by, "I've got a boss." 
Well, be had a "boss." It lashed the water into a foam in 
vain efforts to free itself from the hook, until in one of its 
mad rushes it jumped from the stream and landed high 
and dry on the bank near Mr. Brooks, who quickly 
pounced upon it and shouted triumphantly, "That's the 
way to land heavy fish." It was a speckled trout; Mr. 
Brownell weighed it with his pocket scales and declared 
the weight 41b8. The fish was dressed by the guide and 
taken to the house, where it was weighed by Mr. Turri- 
bull, and tippad the scales at 3|lbs. 
This endea our fishing trip, and we returned to the city 
on the sleeper that night with over 50lbs. of speckled 
beauties. We must acknowledge Mr. Brooks the hero for 
catching the biggest fish, although we all consider that 
Mr. Brownell lost the biggest one also, and Mr. Redner, 
well — he thinks he caught them all. But we have not 
heard the guide's story yet. Angler. 
ANGLING IN CANADA* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
The ouananiche season is at its height just now and 
will continue so for the next month or so in the northern 
tributaries of Lake St. John, This is particularly true of 
the Mistasfini, where a number of distinguished anglers 
have been whipping the water from the Fifth Falls down 
to the First. The two Messrs. McCormick, of Florida, 
are still fishing above the Fifth Falls some distance. At 
these falls are now camped the Rev. Dr. Joseph Gamble, 
of Piattsburg, N. Y., and E. J. Meyers, barrister, of New 
York city. These gentlemen, as the writer can testify, 
are the most hospitable of hosts, and nothing is too much 
for them to do for favored callers at their very complete 
and prettily situated camps. Both too are old-time camp- 
ers upon the island that divides the falls and attractive 
writers upon their favorite fish. Mr. Myers has just re- 
turned from a successful salmon fishing trip to the coast 
of Labrador, where lie was accompanied by Mrs. Myers. 
Though so far only a few days encamped at the Fifth 
Falls, he has already enjoyed excellent sport. In his fish- 
ing Mr. Myers is indefatigable, and 3:30 o'clock in the 
morning seldom finds him in bed in his camping out s&a- 
son. 
Othf r parties who have recently fished the Fifth Falls 
are Col. Chevalier Kitchener, of Bermuda, and son, and 
Lieut.-Col. Andrew C. P. Haggard, D. S. 0,, the novelist 
and author of the new Egyptian book "Under Crescent 
and Star," as well as the writer of the charming intro- 
duction to the recently published book "The Ouananiche 
and its Canadian Environment." Before visiting the 
Fifth Falls the Colonel fished with good success the 
Grande Deoharge, and has now left with a friend for the 
headwaters of the Little Peribonca, intending to explore 
the trout and ouananiche waters of the rivers and lakes 
Epipham, Des Aigles, etc. The Colonel travels and angles, 
not only for pleasure, but also in search of incident and 
setting for his novels and other sketches, and his present 
trip to Canada is solely for the purpose of visiting the 
country of the ouananiche. 
The Grande Desharge has yielded its full quota of good 
spring fish this season, but the best return to the angler 
at present is yielded by the tributaries of the lake. 
Among those who have had good success to date in the 
Discharge may be mentioned Dr. Munde, of New York, 
one of the earliest visitors to the land of the ouananiche; 
Dr. Yates, of Montreal, and Dr. Brush, of New York, the 
Senator from the Fourth District of New York. 
E. T. D. Chambers. 
Quebec, July 13. 
HELL GATE GAMP. 
Boston, July 18.— Editor Forest and Stream: May I 
trespass upon your space once more to the extent of a 
brief outline of our '96 outing? Our party consisted of six 
and we left Boston on the fevening of June 26, via Port- 
land boat, our objective point being Hell Gate Camp, 
Dead Diamond River, northern New Hampshire. We had 
a good night's rest upon the boat, breakfasted in Port- 
land, and at 8:40 took train via Grand Trunk for Berlin 
Mills, where we arrived at 11:50. Through previous ar- 
rangament Walter Akers, of Errol, met us at Berlin and 
soon after dinner the entire party was seated behind a 
sturdy pair of blacks and we went merrily bowling along- 
side the crooked Androscoggin to Errol and the Umbagog 
House, where we arrived at ff:30. We took supper i < re, 
which gave Walter a chance to change horses, and at 7:3U 
we were again headed for Fred Flint's, Wilson's Mills, 
Me. We drove into Flint's yard at 9:45, having made the 
run from Berhn, of forty five miles or thereabouts, in 
about seven hours, and which on the whole proved the 
most comfortable trip I ever made to that region. 
The next morning being Sunday we all snoozed it out, 
and it was past 9 o'clock when we breakfasted and nearly 
10 when, in light marching order, we started on the eight- 
mile tramp to Hell Gate Camp. The morning was bright 
and pleasant, the trail good, the woods delightful and six 
business-ridden individuals never enjoyed tramping more. 
The hospitable arms of the "dear old camp" seemed out- 
stretched to greet and welcome us, and in the music of 
the falls and in every balsam-laden breath Old Injun 
seemed to live again. Dear old Amasa: the place you 
loved so well and for which you worked so hard shall 
always be hallowed ground to me. This year the camp is 
owned and bandied by only two, Fred Flint and Win 
York, who bought out the interests of the other three. 
Win York is at the camp all the time; and assisted as he 
is by an Al cook, the comfort of every guest is assured. 
Contrary to expectitions, we found the water in the 
river quite low and large trout rising indifferently, though 
plenty of them were to be seen in the pools; of trout run- 
ning Irom i to ilh. there were plenty, and they were to 
be had at all times for the anglihg. Deer signs were 
abundant and moose tracks frequent, which augurs well 
for the shooting season, 
Thursday, July 2, five of us left Hell Gate Camp to visit 
Deer Park Lodge, the Narrows, Richardson Lake, o 
