172 
FOREST AND ' STREAM, 
[Aua. 39, 189«. 
"Saved 'em, so they no spoil." 
"'•You said nothing about it." 
"You no like it if I speak it out." 
"Why do you tell it now?" 
"We go home now, and you no care." 
"How many have you salted?" 
"Heap, keg nearly full," 
And so the wily half-breed had all along had an eye single 
to some of the spoils and had quietly been putting away 
nil he could eliminate from our catch. We had fre- 
' quently asked him about the amount on hand and he 
would always say, "Not much." Ned and I wondered at 
the immense number of trout we thought we were eat- 
ing, when in fact they were going into the brine. 
Occasionally he would ask for the loan of a trout rod 
when we did not desire to angle, and then the two would 
take the boat and fish along the rocks very industriously. 
Sometimes he would report his catch, and again it was 
"no good." I don't think either of them were dishonest, 
and did not suppose that by their salting a few of our 
trout they thought they were doing anything wrong. 
Kenosh in further explanation stated that if we had too 
many trout on hand we woTild not fish, and as we loved 
the sport they wanted us to enjoy it all we desired and 
hence the salting down. It was a blessing in disguise 
that gave us rare sport and the half-breeds a big part of 
the spoils. 
We were late in leaving the harbor, not getting off 
before 10 o'clock, owing to the rather mixed condition of 
affairs in the elements. One minute it blew from the 
north, and the next it came from the south. We were as 
badly undecided as the weather, and finally let Kenosh 
determine the matter of our leaving. After the restless 
half-breed had taken a careful observation of the leaden 
sky, where "mare's tails" were streaming out and gray 
islands of clouds moving to the east, he said in a very 
hesitating manner, "We go anyhow." 
Then the camp was very hastily dismantled, the boat 
hurriedly loaded and away we went in the threatening 
weather, with the sails fairly humming as we sped along 
over the tossing seas with the white caps riding on every 
rolling ridge. 
We held well down into the big "horseshoe" and had 
not gone more than three or four miles when the wind 
suddenly changed and gave emphatic evidence of a very 
turbulent sea, 
"What are we to do now?" asked Ned when he saw the 
combers toppling over. 
"We go to Montreal Island," answered Kenosh. 
And so she was headed for it, with the dancing sea 
making lively work for us. It took us over an hour to 
reach the deeply wooded island. On landing Kenosh ran 
over to a long spit of sand on the inside coast line in 
order to see what progress the blow was making, and if 
it would be advisable to try and make the Montreal 
River. We in the meantime gathered a few branches to 
fight off the attacking mosquitoes. They were not at all 
like the nipping insects along the mainland, but regular 
fighters and stingers on sight. "Big were they?" Like 
hummingbirds, and they came in such droves that it was 
impossible to fight them all off. Their sting had the 
vigor of a wasp and the swelling from it was as large as a 
hickory nut. They had grown and fattened in the swamp 
lands of the island till they were warriors bold, and noth- 
ing could resist their sanguinary charge, which came 
from all sides. 
"For heaven's sake," said Ned, when a swallow-headed 
insect or two tormented his proboscis with their sharp 
lances, "let us get out of here." 
Kenosh at this period of Ned's suffering said he thought 
he could make the six-mile stretch to the river. 
"We'll have to make it. Drowning is preferable to 
this inferno." 
At this manifesto we quickly jump aboard, and in a 
moment the sails are taut and we are flying o'er the curl- 
ing waves that roar on the rock-bound shore and crash 
into the dark and damp ravines of the massive walls that 
confronted us. 
When we are well away from the lee of the island, the 
sea tosses and foams as if old Neptune had been chiding 
it for its summery indolence. It was a beam wind that 
sent the old Mackinac "heeling" over and we all without 
prompting endeavored to even up matters by sitting high 
up on the windward side. The wild waves made ugly 
surges at us and time and again was the vigorous breeze 
"spilled" out of the sheets. 
It was ugly sailing, and to hear the moan of wind and 
wave as it sped along on its cruel mission drove all the 
sunshine out of the entire party, who only could see the 
bright side of the picture on the distant shore, where the 
trees were tossing their branches in wild delight. The 
- boat had to be held up stiffly to the breeze to make the 
river, and this gave us some very damp clothes. Ned 
said that he liked it better than a cloud of gigantic 
mosquitoes, and in fact would rather swim to the main- 
land than remain on that insect-infested island. 
When we were within a mile or two of shore we had 
the protection in a measure of the aspiring mountains, 
which tempered the breeze considerably. We, however, 
were driven a short distance above the mouth, but a 
resort to the oars soon brought us to the river and the 
desired camping quarters on the beach. 
The boys took the boat up the river a short distance 
and there unloaded her. Our tent as a preventive against 
the little trumpeters was put up on the gravelly beach, 
where the breeze fro n the lake drove them away. 
It was a bad place in a hard blow, but as the wind was 
fast subsiding we thought it safe for the night. 
Everybody was terribly hungry, for it was now near 2 
o'clock and not a bite had we taken since 6 o'clock in the 
morning. After our ravenous appetites were fully satis- 
fied we had some idle hours on hand, and as an auxiliary 
time-killer we put our rods together to try for trout in 
the big river. Ned gave his rod to Kenosh, who went 
up to the pool, while I tried the mouth of the stream. 
After careful and earnest efforts of over an hour or 
more the sport was abandoned, with profitless results. 
We have never caught any trout here and I never saw 
one that ever did, although there are reports of some hav- 
ing been taken from the river. The afterooon was a 
gloomy one, and before evening the lake became as 
smooth as a mirror. The wind even failed to stir as much 
as a small flutter among the leaves, and the impressive 
stillness of the place was such that it seemed as if the 
voice of God had spoken, 
^ While we were seated at the edge of the lake, taking 
in the vistas of the immediate landscape, a young loon 
came swimming along within a few feet of us, picking 
up shad flies that were floating on the surface and diving 
occasionally, to see what tribute the bottom of the lake 
would add to appease its hunger. It took no notice what- 
ever of us, and finally entered the river and ascended it, 
feeding as it went. It had doubtless wandered away from 
its parental head. 
After supper foreboding clouds filled the heavens, and 
soon after retiring the rain fell, and to its gentle patter 
we fell asleep. Alex, Stakbuok. 
[to be continued.] 
SAN FRANCISCO BAY FISHING. 
San Francisco, Aug. 10.— As the season for rock cod 
fishing has just commenced, a few words relative to the 
sport may be of more or less timely interest. Smelt fish- 
ing is probably the most common angling pastime of this 
bay, but as the fish are only caught when a school is run- 
ning, and are then taken on the pot-hunter plan, they do 
not interest me to any extent. The rock cod, or, more 
properly speaking, rockfish, as they bear no semblance of 
a cod, furnish an entirely different form of sport, though 
of a very mild kind, as indeed are all field and marine 
sports in the vicinity of a metropolis, "Outside the 
heads," as it is called, that is, in and beyond the Golden 
Gate, on the fishing banks, a cod is taken in tbirty to fifty 
fathoms' depth of water which weighs from 5 to ISlbs,, 
but this is hardly a typical fishing of San Francisco Bay. 
On the other hand, within the bay along rocky shores 
and in any depth down to fifteen fathoms, a smaller fish, 
though precisely similj^r iiL appearance, is taken running 
from 2oz. to 21b8., and it is of these latter that I am about 
to write. 
We were Jack, Jim, Joe and Jerry; and on Saturday 
night we went to Tiburon, and there at a country hotel 
we spat upon the midnight embers, swapping fish yarns 
and buzzing the natives as to early season catches. Four 
A, M. found us in a Whitehall well out on the Raccoon 
Strait, beaded for Angel Island. Arrived there, Joe and 
Jack started the fire. Jim went for water at a spring in a 
nearby csfion, and Jerry, unable to make himself use- 
HKNHY O. FOHB. 
ful, dropped a line off the wharf at Chinese Camp. 
Twenty minutes after landing on the island coffee was 
poured out and Jerry dropped four ^Ib. rock cod 
on the frying pan. And, by the way, I herewith chal- 
lenge any man to suggest a more soul-satisfying nectar 
than black coffee served in camp at 4:30 A. M. Well, 
breakfast over, we rowed down shore to a likely looking 
spot and dropped lines. A few fish were hooked during 
the first hour, but owing to the early time of year they 
were few and far between in the later hours. The stan- 
dard tackle consists of a heavy cotton line, l^lb, sinker, 
and three or four No. 0 3 Carlisle hooks. For diversion 
Jack rigged a 8bz. sinker and hooks on a light trout line, 
and then the fun commenced when a fish took that line 
and tangled it up with the others, each man having two 
lines down, and all in an 18ft. boat. Jack's light tackle had 
been down but a few minutes when there came a mag- 
netic tap on the line, then two or three more, followed by 
such jerking as though telegraphing for a fire depart- 
ment. 
"Look out for your lines, I've got a shark." 
"Ha-ha-hal Look at that sardine," said Jerry, as Jack 
pulled in a ilb. rock cod. But Jack said that size didn't 
count, it was the tackle that made the sport, and so were 
we all convinced before the day was over that the lum- 
bersome lines of the other fishers were a fraud. Several 
fish, and one of Hlbs. in particular, would swim around 
with that Soz, sinker and mix up our eight lines in direful 
confusion. At last, getting no more nibbles, we had 
lunch on the beach, and at noontime steered homeward 
with very few fish, but enough of healthy recreation to 
satisfy us until the season was better advanced for good 
catches. D, B, C. 
Adlrondacks. 
Ithaca, N. Y. — Levi Kenney and Dr, A. H. Fowler, 
veteran anglers both, of this city, have returned from a 
few weeks' stay at Dart's Camp, in the Adirondacks, 
where they enjoyed some capital trout fishing. Both 
speak in high praise of the fighting qualities of the trout 
found in the vicinity of the above-named camp, 
Jno, H. Selkreg, another veteran, has lately returned 
from a successful trip to Redwoods. "And such fishing," 
saith John. "Ah, well, life has few finer things." 
M. Chill. 
Lake Winnebago Bass. 
OsHKOSH, Wis., Aug. 14 — The Times of to-day reports: 
"On Wednesday a party composed of Adolph Mehlmann, 
H. Lindner, Otto Noss, Robert Voss, Will Wilkinson, and 
several others, chartered thf> steam yacht Cora and went 
to the east shore of Lake Winnebago, where they spent 
the day fishing. One hundred and thirty black bass, 
weighing about 4001bs. , were caught, besides a number of 
pike and other varieties. About 200 sheepshead were 
taken and thrown away." 
TARPON ON THE FLORIDA EAST COAST. 
Pennsylvania, Aug. 21.— Editor Forest and Streain: 
1 cut the inclosed dispatch from a copy of one of our 
daily papers: "St, Lucie, Fla., Aug, 18. — The largest tar- 
pon ever caughi at St. Lucie was landed last evening by 
Senator Quay, of Pennsylvania, It weighed 2631bs. 
After an exciting struggle, in which the craft was nearly 
swamped, the Senator landed his fish safely in the boat. 
WhUe struggling with the fish Senator Quay was struck 
on the leg below the knee, but was not seriously hurt, 
The boatman also had a narrow escape." 
So many tarpon and such large ones are caught now- 
adays that this particular one might not be worth special 
comment save for the way in which it was caught and 
the place. The catching of tarpon on the east coast of 
Florida is an altogether different affair from catching 
them on the west coast or at Aransas Pass. The fish are 
only caught in the inlets of the Indian River. That at 
St. Lucie has a fringe of breakers extending entirely 
across its mouth. The open water within the inlet is not 
of very large extent, as it is soon divided up into numerous 
cuts among the mangrove tracts. There is therefore no 
chance for the tarpon to drag the boat after being hooked. 
On the contrary, the boat must be securely anchored. 
The fish do not swallow the bait either, and must be 
securely hooked in the mouth to hold them against the 
great strain that ensues as soon as the fight is fairly on. 
It takes usually a good many trials before a fish is finally 
"hung," for the lips are soft and the hook easily tears 
out, while the roof of the mouth is very hard and bony, 
and it is difficult to imbed a hook firmly in it. Sharks 
too abound, and you will usually catch half a dozen 
sharks to one tarpon. The fish are scarce at any time at 
St, Lucie, but you can easily see that to catch, land and 
kill a tarpon weighing 263lbs, from a small anchored boat 
is a feat of which any fisherman can be justly proud, A 
30ft, cotton line is used for snell, as it stands the wear and 
tear better than metal links, 
I had rather an amusing incident with a shark while 
down there fishing. We were on the beach and there 
were plenty of sharks in sight, but the beach was very 
shallow and it was difficult to throw the big iron hook 
with half a sheepshead on it far enough out for the shark 
to reach, and when they did get it they did not take hold 
very well, I finally left my friend K. and Gorsie, the 
boatman, casting for shark, while I went a little further 
along to try for channel bass, when I heard a shout from 
the others. They had at length secured a fish and were 
hauling him up on the beach. They had got him perhaps 
halfway up from where the waves ended to where the 
thin water came when the hook pulled out of his mouth, 
K, started at once for my Marlin .38, which I had left on 
the beach about 200ft, on the other side of them from 
where I was. The shark in the meantime finding itself 
free swung round and made for the water. This was too 
much for Gorsie, He could not stand by and see that 
flsli that had cost him so much trouble to get, escape in 
that fashion, so he rushed after it, grabbed it by its thick 
tail and commenced pulling it back up the beach. I 
shouted with laughter at this novel mode of shark fishing. 
K. stopped to see how Gorsie would make out. The shark 
finding himself thus attacked in his rear swung round to 
meet his new assailant. Gorsie prudently dropped his 
tail and beat a retreat. K, started once more for the 
rifle. Then the shark started seaward once more, and once 
more Gorsie's couragejose, and he grabbed him by the tail, 
determined to have that shark or perish in the attempt. 
I encouraged both combatants impartially. Go it, Gorsie! 
Go it, sharki But Gorsie won; he succeeded in dragging 
the shark upon dry sand, and K. sent a bullet through its 
head. It was about 6ft, long, and weighed, we judged, 
about ISOlbs, We caught another that afternoon, a 
female, and on cutting her open found five young sharks, 
all attached to her by the umbilical cord, so that settled 
the question of sharks spawning, about which there was 
quite a question down there. J. H. Fisher. 
NEW JERSEY COAST FISHING. 
ASBURY Park, N. J., Aug. 21.— There is a marked im- 
provement in surf fishing along the entire ocean front. 
From all points there is encouraging news, so that once 
again the surf tackle is brought into play. Kingfish are 
being taken pretty freely, and an occasional weakfish to 
enliven the sport. When the surf will admit, parties go 
out in what are locally termed bank skiffs — full, round 
bottom boats, and hard to capsize — in quest of bluefish, I 
wonder how many Forest and Stream readers have ever 
taken bluefish with rod and reel, either churning or troll- 
ing from a boat in the open sea. They are difficult 
enough to handle when standing on ferm _^rma, but when 
in a pitching boat the matter assumes a different form 
entirely — especially when they are of the 7 to lOlb. variety. 
We of the Middle States know nothing of the glorious 
powers of the salmon or the speed of the muscalonge, but 
we do have battles royal with the striped bass and blue- 
fish. I am strongly of the opinion that were the bluefish 
to be had under the same conditions as the salmon he 
would soon prove a strong rival in point of piscatorial 
favor; but the conditions under which he is only to be had 
make the use of light tackle an impossibility; besides, he 
could never be taken on gut leaders — his terrific strike 
precludes that possibility; so we are content to fight it out 
with him with heavy casting tackle, and consider our- 
selves fortunate if we are best man at the finish. 
Thanks to the splendid activity of the fish wardens, 
Barnegat Bay is having a protection never before experi- 
enced. L'ast week two more of the rash spirits were 
arrested and fined and their nets and boats confiscated 
for seine fishing. In consequence of this protection, as I 
have before written, the bay is literally swarming with 
fish life. Within the past few years there has been a 
literal reversal of opinion in relation to the edible qual- 
ities of the bonito. I have seen in years past tons of tnem 
used for compost, whereas now they are highly esteemed 
and justly so; large quantities of them are now sold in 
the city markets for Spanish mackerel, which fish they 
somewhat resemble; and they may easily be foisted upon 
a person not well posted; and it is perhaps but just to say 
that the imposition is not a serious one, as there is but 
little difference in their respective table qualities. As a 
fish for the angler they are superb when it is possible to 
reach them, as they are always taken either in the open 
sea or in the inlets of our large bays. Their feeding 
habits are identical with those of the bluefish, and their 
voracity is as great. There is perhaps no fish capable of 
