848 
FOREST AND STREAM„ 
[Oct. 31, 1896. 
The Tennessee Quail Supply. 
Grand View, Rhea County, Tenn,, Oct. 19, — desire 
to say a word of caution to the quail shooting members 
of the Forest and Stream family. Do not allow any- 
thing you may read in the papers to persuade you that 
you can find quail anywhere in this State where you may 
choose to look. My personal experience this season is 
confined to the counties of Rtiea and Cumberland, where 
the birds are scarce on both mountain and valley. 
The people seem disposed to presp.rve the pitiful rem- 
nant which still exists from their former abundance. 
I have heard of a very few flocks, but have seen none. 
An intelligent boy told me yesterday that he had heard 
them whistle, but had seen none for a year. Yet they 
were very numerous three or four years ago. The dam- 
nable practice of netting them for sale, the huge bags 
made by shooters from Kentucky and elsewhere, and 
lastly the freezing weather of two winters ago have 
almost exterminated them.' I am credibly informed that 
Meigs and McMinn counties are in the same fix. 
Will write you more at length later. Kelpie. 
National Park Extension. 
CHiLiiicOTHE, O., Oct. 23 — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I note in Forest and Stream of 24th inst. letter of Mr. 
John F. Cowan, of Butte, Mont., relative to and advoca- 
ting territorial extension southerly of Yellowstone Na- 
tional Park, and your editorial concerning Mr. Cowan's 
letter and its subject. 
I am most heartily in favor of the proposed enlarge- 
ment. It should be done by all meians, and I believe we 
can do it. Kindly urge the matter in the columns of 
your powerful journal and call on the boys for help. I 
am sure you will get a hearty response. I will gladly do 
any and everthing I can, and will cheerfully place myself 
under the commands of any one who will take the mat- 
ter up. I am anxious to see the Three Tetons, the most 
majestic mountains in this country, added to the National 
Park. If Forest and Stream will take the matter up I 
believe the thing can be accomplished. I beheve the 
time is ripe for the movement, and it is now or never, so 
far as the game is concerned. I trust that you will 
father this matter, and pledge my feeble support. 
L. B. Yajplb, 
THE RESTIGOUCHE AS IT WAS AND 
IS NOW. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Dr. R. T. Morris, in your issue of the 10th inst., aaya it 
is of little use to restock the Delaware with salmon, as the 
white man, the Indian and shad net forbid it. We all 
know that the poached salmon, moose or caribou is sweet 
simply because they may be forbidden at certain seasons 
and under certain restrictions, and any salmon river set- 
tled along its banks will be sure to have a good quota of 
poachers. Most of our best Canadian rivers are only set- 
tled for a few miles above their mouths. The mountain- 
ous nature of the country and soil prevents agriculture, 
and the poacher has difficulty in bringing his catch down 
should he make it and m getting a market. 
Dr. Morris says that the rivers in Newfoundland, Nova 
Scotia, Quebec and New Brunswick are badly poached 
and netted, nets barring the streams and set in the resting 
pools in defiance of authority. So far as Nova Scotia 
rivers are concerned for angUng purposes, the game is not 
worth the candle. True, a few salmon frequent them, but 
the water and bottoms are not suitable, any spawning 
grounds there are are covered with saw dust and mill rub- 
bish. I believe they are free to all or nearly so, although 
the riparian ownership exists in Nova Scotia as well as in 
the other provinces. The trouble is that they are of no 
value. One pool on the Restigouche would sell for more 
money to-day for angling purposes than the whole Nova 
Scotia rivers put together. There are only two or three 
rivers in New Brunswick (barring the Restigouche) 
worthy of the name: the Tobique, Miramichi, Jacquet 
and Nepsiguit. The last named is the best; but the 
angling limits are very short, the falls are a stopper to the 
salmon. 
Dr. Morris says he has been told and has heard the na- 
tives boast of spearing the salmon on well- protected 
streams on the Bay Chaleur watere. On this subject I 
am at home, having had charge of the Rpstigouche 
River as well as of the estuary netting from lb69 to 1882, 
Previous to 1869 the Indians (300 of whom lived on a re- 
serve at tide head) speared salmon at their own will, hav- 
ing a right, as they said, from God, who made the fish 
for their use. They would follow up the first run for a 
couple of days, and having a canoe full would sell them 
for 3 cents per pound at Campbellton to traders for 
rum, biscuit and pork. Aa the fish got further up the 
rivers they followed, on their way down, five ana six 
canoes abreast, so a fish could not escape them. The 
Fisheries Act forbade all spearing (in '69), H. Peter 
Mitchell, then Minister of Fisheries, told me I would have 
to stop this spearing. I said: "Sir, imless those Indians 
are granted some equivalent, to which, I think, they are 
entitled, I will not do so." A very large station of nets 
was procured and set out for them on their own grounds 
in lieu of the spear. This they refused; drove the men 
off; cut down pickets, destroying the nets; and the same 
night ten canoes started spearing. I took the whole, de- 
stroying some, taking out the fish, and the next morning 
had the whole band before Commander Larise; tried 
them under the drum head and sent six of them to goal. 
This ended the Indian spearing on the Restigouche. 
At this time every settler on the Bi,y Chaleur and 
estuary who owned 200 acres of land could, if so minded, 
set a salmon net in front of his property. At this time 
it was not a paying business. Salmon were scarce and 
low in price, and twine was dear. The Fisheries Act pro- 
vided a remedy, viz. : No man could set a net without 
obtaining a license, which the department alone could 
grant. 
At this time it was proposed to establish a hatchery to 
restock the river. I pointed out to the minister the ne- 
cessity of controlling the netters or we would be simply 
benefiting them, and the nets would increase tenfold. 
The trouble was it had to be made universal. The min- 
ister knew well that his own constituents would kick 
dead against it, but he ordered me to try it on the Resti- 
gouche, giving me arguments to use in its favor; and it 
was enforced in 1872 successfully. At the same time, as 
the Federal Government had not recognized riparian 
rights, and had leased for nine years the river and its 
tributaries, and all settlers who claimed a right to set a 
salmon net in fresh waters were prohibited from doing 
so — any one who considers what those changes meant to 
a fishery officer to carry them out against the long usage 
of netters and spearers must think it was no sinecure, 
Often my life was threatened, but I am still to the fore. 
Let me give you a view of what the Restigouche's 
capabilities really are as a salmon river. A bark canoe 
can ascend it with a fair load two and one-half miles per 
hour. Horses can tow barges from one end to the other. 
There are no roads after the first ten or twelve miles, no 
settlers. It is a pristine wilderness. There are 148 miles 
of open angling water, nearly aH under lease or pur- 
chased from riparian owners. There are 125 miles of 
branches set apart for the natural propagation of salmon, 
on which the finest spawning grounds in the world exist; 
lastly a hatchery that turns out a couple of millions of 
fry yearly. No doubt 100 rods are on it yearly. The fad 
now is to buy a pool worth $30,000 or so; but there are 
none of those for sale now; such have been sold, I may 
say they were the choicest on the river. Jno. Mowa.t. 
THE McCLOUD RIVER. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In reading the recent numbers of your journal, which 
lay over uncut during summer vacation, my attention is 
attracted by the pleasant article of your correspondept 
Ransacker in the number of Aug, 22, in which he sings 
praises due this most beautiful of the tributaries of the 
Sacramento. Strictly speaking, ^t is a tributary of the 
Pit, into which it pours its volume, and the Pit then emp- 
ties into the Sacramento about five miles further down. 
Thinking possibly something might be added to the his- 
tory of this section of interest to some of your coast 
readers, the writer has refreshed his memory from the 
leaves of an old note book. In earlier years, before the 
railway was laid through the caiion of the Sacramento, 
stage lines transferred the travelers from Redding, in 
California, to Roseburg, in Oregon; these towns being at 
that time terminal points of the railways then constructed. 
The upper Sacramento was a paradise for sportsmen, and 
the fountain of youth for healthy invalids. Allen's, on 
the McCloud, the first stop after crossing the Pit River 
ferry, not a great way from the U. S. Fishery; Southern's, 
now Sims Station on the railway; Bailey's or Lower Soda 
Springs, now Castle Crag Tavern; Fry's or Upper Soda 
Springs; and Sisson's, the shrine to which pilgrims flocked 
who worshiped the hoary old moimtain ; these were the 
popular resorts for seekers of health and for lovers of rod 
and rifle. No outing was complete if the visitor failed 
to rest under the shadow of Shasta, and lacking that ex- 
perience he failed to take away true inspiration. Not to 
have camped, too, on the upper waters of the McCloud, 
at the Horseshoe Bend or other favorite resort, or to have 
felt the thrill and rapture of strife in the struggle to cap- 
ture and safely land irideus, or to have won the antlers 
aa a trophy and tribute to skill with his Ballard, was for 
the faithful to have visited Mecca without kissing the 
Kaaba Stone; health would not have dwelt in his bones, 
The writer spent many happy, restful hours in visiting 
camps on the banks of these rivers, and not unfrequently 
interviewed the elder Indians of the tribe which once in- 
habited the section, now nearly passed away, with the 
hope of gaining some knowledge of a fading race that 
would be of interest. There was not much to learn from 
them. They were inferior mentally and physically, com- 
paring unfavorably with the tribes once of the Atlantic 
coast. They developed little native art, only enough to 
meet the simple wants of savage life, such as hunting and 
trapping wild game and fish of forest and stream. Their 
lodges, which gave protection from extremes and rigors 
of the seasons, were of simple structure, models doubtless 
unchanged for countless generations passed. As to their 
dialect, a few words expressed their ideas or wants, which 
were limited. Impressions of them formed since having 
opportunity for comparison is that they were inferior to 
the tribes further north in Oregon, Washington and Brit- 
ish Columbia, 
They named the Sacramento River Wymim, the 
McCloud Winnimim, and the Pit Pooimim. Attracted by 
the analogy in the naming, which was suggestive, and ques- 
tioning some of the more intelligent of the tribe, we soon 
found it plain that Wy meant North, Winni or Winne 
Middle, and Pooi East; and so we had Wymim, Winni- 
mim and Pooimim — North River, Middle River and East 
River; Mim being in their dialect a generic word for 
river. 
The writer has never seen any early map of California, 
referred to by your correspondent, on which the streams 
are laid down as West, Middle and East forks of the Sac- 
ramento; but has in his possession an early map on which 
the so-called or written McCloud River is laid down Mc- 
Leod, and such is without question the correct way of 
spelling the true name of the river. So much for the 
aboriginal names of these upper waters of the Sacra- 
mento. 
The name of the McLeod River as now spoken, but not 
as now written, originated out of the following circum- 
stances:* In 1828, nearly a score of years before the Inter- 
national Boundary was settled by ti-eaty with the British 
Government, the Hudson's Bay Company had its head- 
quarters for the Pacific coast at Fort Vancouver, on the 
right bank of the Columbia River, now Vancouver Bar- 
racks and headquarters of the Military Department of the 
Columbia. Dr. John McLaughlan was then resident 
agent. The Rogue River Indians at that time had given 
trouble massacring a party of trappers and robbing it 
of furs. The resident agent, finding it necessary to pun- 
ish them, dispatched Alexander Roderick McLeod, a fac- 
tor of the company, in the command of a party of men to 
the scene for that purpose. McLeod had just returned to 
headquarters, having executed a commission against the 
Clallam tribe at the north near Port Townsend, punishing 
them for depredations they had committed. After set- 
tling matters with the Rogue River tribe, he continued on 
further south according to his instructions, crossed the 
Siskiyou Mountains and explored the headwaters of the 
Sacramento in the interests of his company and in search 
of f m'-bearing animals. After exploring the Pit River 
which he named, he made his way along the Middle or 
McLeod River, for so we will now write it, and was re- 
turning after a successful hunt with his furs; but not 
heeding the warning of some of his experienced associ- 
ates remained too late in the season, was caught in a 
severe storm in the mountains, unfortunately camped on 
the summit and was snowed in. He lost all his horses, 
but cached his furs and with difficulty worked his way 
down to lower levels. The furs were recovered the next 
spring, much damaged through insecurity of the cache, 
and resulted in great loss. His men, some of whom were 
Canadian French trappers, named the river La Riviere de 
Monsieur McLeod, and McLeod's River it is; for it is cer- 
tain that the old officer of the Hudson's Bay Company 
who in 1830 had charge of the California department, 
with headquarters at Yerba Buena (San Francisco), in a 
letter to tne writer, dated May 3, 1879, speaks by the 
record of his company when he writes with interesting 
detail: "This is the origin of the name of the river, being 
frequently written McCloud's River, this being the pro- 
nunciation of McLeod." G. B. C. 
MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 
XVin.— Antoine Gardapee. 
(jOontinued.y 
I WOULD ask all such "tenderfeet," in whose ranks I 
was then a recruit, although the term had not been in- 
vented, how they would feel to awake in a cabin in a 
forest where there was no white man within forty miles, 
except a partner who was off running a line of traps, and 
find an Indian standing silently by the bed? Just put 
yourself in his place. 
After the choking sensation which comes with such a 
scare, and a partly paralyzed heart had begun its regufar 
work, the firelight, which, by the way, the intruder had 
replenished, showed the features of our friend Ah-se bun, 
who gave a saluting grunt and turned toward the fire, 
where he sat until I arose, washed and dressed, and pre- 
pared to get breakfast. The door had been held shut 
against wind and snow by a prop, for there was no fear 
of animals where there was a man and a fire, and our 
guest had somehow removed that without disturbing my 
sleep, but how long he had been in the cabin was un- 
known. He held down a stool by the fire, while I cooked 
breakfast, and he sat there and ate enough for half a 
doz3n laboring men, and drank coffee until there was none 
left, Antoine had taught me never to betray any curi- 
osity, and so I handed over a pipeful of tobacco and 
waited. Old Raccoon .looked at me inquiringly, and I 
at once filled my pipe, although I never could endure 
tobacco in the morning, and I took a few puffs and 
awaited his pleasure, curious to know why he had made 
such an unconventional call at so early an hour. He 
smoked his pipe out, emptied it, and sat for what seemed 
a long time before he spoke. 
After some repetition and much gesticulation, it ap- 
peared that he had met Antoine, and that the latter had 
killed a bear, and I must go with him and help get it to 
camp, and after arranging things in the cabin I took 
down my rifle to start, when my guest shook his head 
and said, "Kowin," and I replaced it at the door. I un- 
derstood then that there would be load enough without a 
101b. riflp, and we went off to bring in the bear. 
Enough snow had fallen during the night to make hard 
traveling without snowshoes, so we tied them on and 
started — Ah-se-bun in the lead — up a stream on the west 
side where I had never been, but where my partner's line 
of traps began. A short tramp of some five miles 
brought us to the place where Antoine had killed the bear, 
about a mile off bis line. He was there cooking his 
breakfast when we arrived, for he had been up and had 
the bear skinned and dressed before ho started in to cook. 
It happened that he had run his first line of traps some 
fifteen mUes and was crossing the divide to bis home- 
stretch when he found a fresh bear track in the snow, 
which had begun to fall late in the afternoon, and he 
turned and followed it. The track led him back toward 
camp and he came upon bruin about sunset and killed 
it where we found him. 
When we came up to him he said: "I t'ink you better 
come up and take ole Afum to camp an' I'll go on an' run 
my trap, hey? What you want? Bre'kfuss? I fink yes." 
I said to him: "I have been to breakfast, but can eat 
a little more after the long tramp on snowshoes, but if 
you'll only let our friend the Raccoon have a fair whack 
at that bear the load will be lighter to carry. He's had 
one big breakfast, about five times as much as I could 
eat, but just let him fill up on bear meat and our load 
home will be light." 
Antoine thought a minute and replied: "I'll tole you. 
I'll doan lak bear leever, but a Injun he lak him bes' of 
all. I'll cook-a heem dat leever an' you'll heat my col' 
pa'tridge w'at I roas' las' night w'en da bear was warm. 
I'U tole you I'll have long chase for Afum, an' I t'ink I'll 
loss him in a dark, but he stop to look roun' an' I get him.* 
He good an' fat an' w'en he freeze I lak heem jess so good 
as de pork, an' he make some good fat for fry de feesh 
an' roas' de pa'tridge." 
Antoine rigged a couple of light, flexible poles to a 
piece of bark, on which we placed the hindquarters of the 
animal wrapped in its skin. A short, light rope was 
attached to the poles, and with the rope as a breast collar 
and a pole under each arm a man could haul quite a load 
over the snow where a sled would have cut in. The front 
edge of the bark was rolled up sled fashion, and by follow- 
ing the stream and trail it was mainly a down-hill haul, 
with the exception of a few knolls. When all was loaded 
Antoine went his way over his line, and I pointed to each 
load and then to Ah-se-bun to take his choice, the hind- 
quarters and skin being the heaviest. Which do you 
think he took? 
It has been said of a man who is so unfortunate as to 
have to carve at his own table: "If he takes the best cut 
for himself he's a durned hog, and if he doesn't he's a 
durned fool." Now, in making choice of loads — as well 
as in some other things — I will bear witness that my red 
friend was not a "durned fool." There was a sort of 
straightforwardness among the Indians whom I met that 
I've never been able to acquire. They knew what they 
wanted, and they went for it without being hampered by 
etiquette. If there was carving to be done they could 
never be ranked with the d. f.'s, and when the choice of 
* That word "Afum" bothered me for years. At first I naturally 
supposed it to be Ojibwa or French lor bear. The former Is 
"muckwo" and in later years I have learned that Western men call 
the grizzly bear "Ephraim," and now believe that this was the 
name that Antoine tried to use. 
