170 
they're cooked. I wouldn't take 'em home if you'd gi' 
me a cart load. Here, take my pole an' fish for fish that's 
worth having." 
By this time there were half a dozen live minnows in 
the little water hole scooped in the bank, and reaching 
for my pole I bent on about 20ft. of line a fair-sized Look 
with a gimp snell— another new thing to the boys— and 
hooking a minnow through the lips I cast and skittered 
it, a trick learned from old Port Tyler on the Popskinnay 
in the spring before. AU except William, the oldest ' 'boy," 
haw-hawed out loud. He simply watched the curious 
performance. Cast after cast was made, when a gar fish 
took the lure and was landed — a strange fish to me, but 
no stranger to the others, who with one accord voted him 
"no good." They had all stopped to watch this way of 
fishing, which now was proved capable of taking a gar 
at least, but when a pickerel of about 18in. long came in 
it was my moment of triumph. If this— to them— crazy 
mode of fishing had not been a success that morning, rid- 
icule would have beto my portion. I had known that 
from the remarks at the beginning, so, turning around, I 
said: "Yes, Jim, we often catch bigger fish than that 
when we go a-fishin' about Albany;" and William, who 
had said nothing, borrowed a hook on gimp and arranged 
to skitter, while Martin and Jim went catching minnows 
for the same purpose. When you beat a man, or boy, at 
a game he thinks peculiarly his own, he suddenly devel- 
ops a respect for your abilities — perhaps beyond their real 
deserts. Once while hatching shad at Holyoke, Mass., 
the net was badly torn in several places. It belonged to 
the fishermen, and one named Benway was awkwardly 
tying up the holes. Picking up a needleful of twine, I 
began to cut a hole into proper shape for mending, when 
Benway became alarmed at'its increasing size and pro- 
tested. He became violently profane until the knitting 
began, then he watched; and when the hole was knit full, 
good as new, he thought me a great man. "I've beam 
tell o' men knittin' in a hole, so't was jess same as before, 
but I never b'l'eved it," said he, "but there it is, I swan!" 
It appeared that none of that gang of fishermen had ever 
seen a net properly mended. I had beaten them in a 
matter of fisherman's work, and after that my opinions 
on fish and fishing ranked high in that camp. 
William, and others, took some good fish by skittering, 
and altogether we had a fine lot, something like 2001bs. 
of fish, many strange kinds to me, including pickerel 
Opike we call them now), suckers, a strange green sun- 
fish, a strange catfish, as well as the familiar bullhead, 
and the common yellow perch. There was also a "dog 
fish," strange in that day, and stranger stiU this last- 
named fish and the gars were said to be uneatable. I had 
supposed that all fresh- water fishes were eatable, even the 
suckers in winter, only like the beer story, "some's 
better'n others." We were all learning. When the 
whole catch was collected it was divided into as many 
parts as there were houses to be passed on the road home, 
some fifteen or twenty, and strings arranged to be left at 
each, with a special one containing choice kinds for a 
widow, and we rattled home in short time, under a full 
moon. 
Going among people whose whole life, training and 
mode of thought is different from my own has not been 
an uncommon thing, but this first experience was new, 
and at times annoying. I felt as a dime museum freak 
must feel, if he does feel. Interest in such things as 
cha n ging autumn foliage, the form of a passing flock of 
wild geese or the strange appearance of clouds, seemed 
to my backwoods cousins to be silly; these things had 
never occurred to them as worthy of thought because 
they were every-day affairs, and to-day I know that a 
boy who has to turn out at 5 o'clock in the morning, 
milk the cows, feed the horses and pigs, and get 
ready to hoe corn after breakfast, has no eye for 
the beauty of a sunrise any more than he has for a 
glorious sunset after a hard day's plowing, when the horses 
have to be cared for, and all those things which a farmer 
calls "chores," not "work" by any means, have to be 
done before he eats his supper and crawls to bed, only to 
be awakened before nature teUs him that he has slept 
enough. Yes, to-day it is plain why the city boy was a 
"freaJc." He had no "chores' to do at home. He could 
breakfast at 8, go to school at D, and after 4 o'clock he 
had leisure to observe the change of foliage, the flight of 
wild geese and the colors of the sky at sunset. On Sat- 
urdays he could shoot and fish, and there was a six- 
wee^' vacation when the only things he had to obey 
were his instincts. School time to many boys was time 
begrudged by some parents as lost from work; to my 
parents school seemed to be the whole end and aim of a 
boy's life. To me school was a bore, schoolmasters were 
tyrants whose sole object seemed to be to prevent boys 
£rom having any fun. I hated schoolmasters, at least all 
but poor crippled Prof. Anthony, who played ball with 
us as well as he could, and somehow seemed as if he had 
some sympathy with boys. 
Lenawee county was marshy in many places. It was 
the source of water flowing east into Lake Erie, west into 
Lake Michigan and south into Ohio. The country was 
heavily timbered, and the phlebotomizing mosquito was 
abroad in the land. We boys slept in the barn to avoid 
them. Boys came from nearby houses for the frolic in 
the hay, old boys and young boys, sometimes a dozen or 
more. Uncle Erastus did not object to their sleeping 
there, but did forbid card playing; whether he objected 
to csirds at all times or only to the lights necessary to 
their use among his hay we did not know. One day, 
after a little talk leading that way as we sat in the house, 
he said: "I suppose the boys have a game of cards once 
in a while in the barn;" this in an inquiring sort of way. 
"They couldn't play cards in the dark," I answered; 
"they'd have to have lights for that. There! What was 
that big bird that passed the window?" and I ran out to 
see. 
The next day mother said: "Fred, did you find out 
what kind of a bird it was passed the window when your 
uncle asked you about playing cards in the barn?" 
"No ma'am, it was gone — ^" 
"Yes, it was probably gone before you saw it, but I'm 
glad that you did not tell on the boys nor lie to your 
uncle. Do they play cards there nights?" 
"Yes'm, but William said not to tell uncle, and Jim 
threatened to lick me if I did, and I hope he won't ask me 
any more. I'll lie to him if he does." 
"No, you mustn't lie to anyone, and I am glad you told 
the truth to me. I knew they played cards and had can- 
dles there, for I saw the light through a crack that their 
blankets did not cover, as I walked out last evening." 
FOREST ANt) Sl^REAM. 
Oliver had heard this and said afterward: "Golly! But 
you got out of that scrape nicely, if you had told your 
mother the boys didn't play cards in the barn she'd 'a' had 
you, sure." 
"Well, Oliver, I was in a corner, but I never tell 
mother a thing that is not so, nor father either, and I try 
to be truthful all the time, but it's hard work sometimes. 
There was no other way to dodge your father than to see 
a big bird and run out, but before that I fear that what I 
said was almost a fib, but I wouldn't tell on the boys." 
"That's all right. Martin wants to know when you 
want to go after the blind snipe we started the other day. 
What was it you called 'em?" 
"Woodcock; say to-morrow." 
"O K; there's a spaniel over at Uncle Sebe's that Wil- 
liam trees pa'tridges with, don't know how he'll do on 
these birds, nobody shoots 'em here. I never saw more'n 
three or four in my life, and never thought they were 
plenty." 
The spaniel was not a promising dog for the work, but 
we started. In the talk about woodcock shooting some- 
thing was said about shooting- them on the wing, and 
Martin almost shouted: "What! You don't mean to aay 
you shoot 'em a-flyin'?" And here again was a surprise; 
but the success of skittering for pickerel was in mind, and 
there was no ridicule, but an amount of curiosity to see 
the thing done. Such a thing had never been heard of, 
and on a small scale it resembled the experience of Col. 
Raymond in an adjoining county a year or two later. I 
had William's light double gun, and Martin carried a 
single one, while Oliver was to look after the dog. When 
we reached the bog where we had kicked up a bird before 
when crossing it, Oliver started with the dog to try and 
quarter the ground somehow, as I had explained to him; 
but it was queer work, for Dick had no idea of woodcook, 
and being used to ranging out of sight for ruffed grouse 
and barking to call his master when he found one, we 
had hard work to keep him in sight. Martin kicked up a 
bird, and I fired and missed it; but as it dropped behind 
some bushes he insisted that it dropped dead. He had a 
long cord in his pocket, and proposed to tie Dick and keep 
him with us, and as Oliver was bringing the dog he 
flushed one that came our way and I killed it. The boys 
thought this wonderful and the bird the strangest they had 
ever seen. 
"What's his eyes doin' in the back of his head?" asked 
Oliv ;r. 
"That's so's to see who's a-oomin' after him when he's 
feedin'," explained Martin, "and he can see good too, and 
don't scare up till he thinks you're going to step on him. 
Say! I'll tell what let's do. Let's all three and the dog 
walk abreast an' kick 'em up. What d'ye say?" 
This seemed to be a good proposition, for the dog was 
of no use, and we tried it with better result than I ex- 
pected, for we succeeded in putting up eleven birds that 
morning, of which I killed five, Oliver retrieving them 
almost as soon as they were down, with the help of Dick, 
for the dog soon learned what we were after and was a 
fair retriever. The boys told of that morning's work with 
great pride, never failing to add: "An' he killed 'em aU 
a-flyin'." 
On the way home one of the boys shot a big blue heron 
which was standing in meditation by a marshy brook, 
and wing-tipped it. Oliver proposed to capture it alive 
and we sm-rounded the bird, which had no idea of allow- 
ing us to catch it. Standing with head drawn for a 
stroke and with defiance in its eye, now ablaze with fight 
and facing the one who came nearest, it was a most 
heroic figure, worthy of study by an artist. The spaniel 
essayed a hand in the fight, and then tried four spry legs 
on the home stretch after the heron stuck his spear-like 
bill in the dog's back. 
"You make a dive for him," said Oliver to us, "and 
while he is facing you, I'll get him by the legs and neck." 
He tried it and the bird wheeled like a flash, and struck the 
boy a blow on the back of the hand that rendered it useless 
for months. Martin then tried to stun him by a blow on the 
head with a stick, but the heron met hirn with a jump 
and a stroke at his face that luckily missed, or he might 
have been killed or lost an eye. We learned something 
of the fighting qualities of a blue he ron that was new to 
us all. I had not been as rash as the others, for Port 
Tyler had told me how one had made a dent in the stock 
of his gun, and after seeing what Oliver and the dog got 
I had great respect far a wounded heron, which, by the 
way, the boys called a "crane," as they took him to the 
house dead. 
We made several trips to the river and each time had 
fine sport. Martin once had a big turtle on his hook, 
which fortunately was strong, and the turtle was landed. 
But it was a singular beast. In the last story it is related 
how the collecting of turtles was a fad of early boyhood, 
and I thought I knew them all, yet here was one with a 
soft flat shell which felt like wet sole leather, a snout like 
a pig's, and a temper as savage as that of a snapping tur- 
tle. Verily Michigan had smgular fishes and turtles, but 
no imf amiliar bird had been seen so far; but that was to 
come, and in a way to be refnembered. 
"Ever shoot a wild turkey?" asked Jim. 
"No, never saw one; we don't have 'em about Albany." 
"I'll get you a shot at one if you'll come over to my 
house," said he, "and you won't have to go far for it. I 
know where it feeds every day." 
If I had known the whole story, or how it was going to 
turn out, perhaps the turkey might have lived longer; but 
Jim had an idea of getting some fun out of either me, the 
turkey or some other thing. It happened that a neighbor 
of his had a flock of white turkeys which ranged the 
woods, and a stray young wild turkey fed with the tame 
birds, meeting them in the morning and leaving them in 
the evening, when they went home. A boy about Jim's 
age, whose people owned the flock of white turkeys, 
knew of this wild one and had marked it for his meat 
later on. Jim went with me and posted me behind a fal- 
len log, and I killed the turkey and started for the road 
to find Jim. when a big boy appeared and claimed the 
bird. Now the killing of that turkey had not a bit of 
sportsmanship in it and was nothing to be proud of, but 
it was a wild turkey and mine. I refused to give up my 
game. 
"This is not one of your turkeys; yours are white." 
"I say it's mine, and I'm going to have it. That sneak- 
in' Jim Brockway sot you up to kill my turkey, he 
dassen't kill it himself, but I'll have it." 
"You won't get it. Jim Brockway is down in the road 
yonder, an' if you call him a sneak he'll lick you." 
"Jim Brockway can't lick one side o' me, nur you an< 
[Aug. 29, 1896. 
him together. Gi' me that turkey," and he pushed me. 
I set the gun back against a log and tossed the turkey 
behind it. He was bigger and stronger than I, but 
lessons from Shel. Hitchcock, Albany's teacher of spar- 
ring, gave me confidence, if he could be kept from a 
"catch as catoh can" hold. He struck an awkward 
swinging blow and got a stinger on the ear. He was 
astonished, but made a rush which was avoided and took 
one on the nose, which, as Professor Sheldon Hitchcock 
would have said, "brought the claret." So far I was un- 
harmed except for my right hand, which has never bt-en 
equal to the biceps which drove it, and I had only learned 
to use thH left as a guard. He gathered himself and 
struck straight this time, but I dodged and upper-cut him 
on the jaw, and, in the language of the Professor, "he 
grassed." By this time Jim appeared. He had seen it 
all, but affected surprise. 
"Hello!" said he, "what's this all about?" 
The fellow picked himself up and said: "You know 
what it's all about, Jim Brockway, and I'll got square on 
you for it some day, you mind." 
"Why don't you get square with this boy?" said Jim, in 
a tantalizing manner, "you seem to have had some 
trouble with him. I don't know what it's about." 
"I'll tell you, Jim," said I, "I killed a turkey and he 
claims it; there it is, a wild one, and everybody knows 
that all the tame turkeys about here are white, so't they 
can tell 'em from wild ones. Come on, Jim, he don't 
want that turkey now, 'cause he said he was eoin' to take 
it, but he didn't." 
On returning to the house of Uncle Erastus with the 
turkey, which was doubly mine now, first by right of 
having reduced it to possession and again by the gauge of 
battle, mother at once saw the condition of my hand, now 
painfully swollen, and, mother-like, wanted to know 
what had happened. I answered: "Mother, if I should 
try to tell you just how I injured my hand in shooting 
a wild turkey the story might get twisted, and I was ex- 
cited so much that I might be mistaken. Jim will be 
over to night. He was there and knows all about it; let 
him tell it." This must have made her curiosity almost 
boil over, for there was a mystery, but she was one of 
those stoical people whose faces never give an indication 
of either curiosity, pleasure or pain, so she said, "Very 
well," and waited. After hearing Jim's version of the 
turkey hunt she never referred to it afterward. She may 
have detailed the whole affair to father, but when I said, 
one day after getting home, "Father, I killed a wild 
tm-key out in Michigan," he only asked, "How much did 
it weigh?" 
Before returning to Albany there came a rumor that 
the whole city had been destroyed by fire. "Mother, let's 
go home," said I, in despair. 
"My boy, we have no home to go to, if the whole city 
has been burned," replied this extremely sensitive but 
outwardly impassive woman, whose great, kind heart it 
was her constant struggle to conceal, and I must, perforce, 
accept her philosophical view of the situation. News- 
papers came slowly in that backwoods, but the truth 
came with them. The greatest fire that Albany had 
known had swept lower Broadway, I forget the exact 
boundaries; but while father's oflGlce had been burned, 
none of his barges were lost, and the burns which he had 
received while warping a barge across the basin were 
only slight ones on the face, neck and hands, so he put it, 
and we went home. 
About the boys? Oh, yes. Jim went home from An- 
tietam with a leg off, Martin was killed at Gettysburg 
and Ohver died at Andersonville. Good boys and fine 
men, all of them. No, I can't say what became of the 
fellow who claimed the turkey. I do not remember his 
name. He did not get the turkey. Fked Mather. 
CANADIAN ANGLING NOTES. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Not for many seasons have I received so many letters 
of inquiry from American anglers for the best localities 
for fall fishing in northern Canada as have reached me 
within the past few days. Notwithstanding that I have 
endeavored to coverall this information very fully in "The 
Book of the Ouananiche and its Canadian Environment," 
especially in the chapters on "Angling for Ouananiche" 
and "Other Fish and Game," you will perhaps afford me 
the hospitality of your columns to indicate a few facts 
that may prove useful to American sportsmen about to 
visit Canada, and to apologize for my inability to reply 
personally on the subject at length to all who have writ- 
ten me for information and advice. 
Of course every owner of Game Laws in Brief— which. 
ought to be equivalent to saying "every sports- 
man" — knows that the close season for ouananiche com- 
mences on Sept. 15; so that anglers who would try their 
luck this year with this plucky game fish of the North 
have not very long to do it in. A party of New England 
fishermen is about to visit the Fifth Falls of the Mistassini, 
one of the most picturesque of the many pretty camping 
grounds in the Lake St. John country. Usually at this 
period of the year ouananiche are plentiful there. A 
surer locality in September is the lower part of the Meta- 
betchouan River. About this date the fish are in the 
mouth of the river. Toward the end of the first 
week in September they may be found in what is 
known as the Island Pool, an illustration of which ap- 
pears in the book above referred to. In Dr. Van Dyke's 
"Little Rivers" is a description of a somewhat difficult 
route by which he reached this pool, driving by 
buckboard for nine miles from St. Jerome over an 
exceedingly rough and hilly road, and then scram- 
bling down a steep hillside 500ft. high. But for those 
who do not object to rather rough portages there is 
a much shorter route to this fishing ground. For a mile 
and a quarter from the mouth of the Metabetchouan there 
is calm water which may be paddled, and then a portage 
of a mile and a half brings the angler to the lower pool, 
where ouananiche are plentiful in the early part of Sep- 
tember, and where Col. Andrew Haggard had the re- 
markably successful fishing that he describes in his intro- 
duction to "The Ouananiche and its Canadian Environ- 
ment." Another portage of a mile leads to the second 
pool, and the upper or island pool is exactly another mUe 
higher up the stream, necessitating another portage. 
In both Lake Tschatagama and Lac-a Jim there should 
also be good sport at present, and the fitsherman's creel 
should at both these resorts contain both trout and 
ouananiche. Fly-fishing is always good in September at 
the foot of the various falls in the lower fifteen or twenty 
