Feb 13, 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
129 
Proprietors of fluking resorts v>iU find it profitable to advertise 
them in Fobkst and Stream. 
ELKHORN.-I. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Within a short hour's ride of the State capital flows a 
Btream— known little to the outnde world of anglers or 
tourist travel rs— that for gameness of its black bass, variety 
of scenery with which its alternating courses constantly de- 
light and charm the eye, and for ttie days of memrrable 
sport that have fallen to the 'ot of the eager angler is a ver- 
itable love stream to many Kentucky hearts, Th s is the 
famous Elkhorn Creek that, fed by the clear, cool springs of 
the Blue Grass region flows westwardly in its north and 
south branches till they unite at the Forks, and thence, with 
uncertain course, now this way, now that, after some miles 
of sinuous windings, finally enters the gorge of the Ken- 
tucky Kiver. and mingles with the waters of that picturesque 
stream, twelve miles below Frankfort. 
Whtre Elkhorn C-eek got its name no one knows. Back 
along ttie line of pioneer days the first settlers on its banks, 
old enouah to remember when deer and turkeys were seen 
on its hills and m its bottoms, knew it as the Elkhorn of still 
earlier pioneers. When B )one and Kenton ranged the cane- 
brakes of its upper sources, or the rough hills near its mouth, 
they found plentiful evidences of the existence of elk; while 
the buffalo trace, as it is called, deep cut in the clay soil, ran 
straight away fiom Frankfort across its course to Big Bone 
Lick, showing the travel path of that now almost extinct 
deu'zcnof the forest and prairie. 
Perhaps some tragic incideot in the early discovery of the 
stream, or some fertile fancy m the gossamer of frontier 
romance, or, more likely still, a profusion of the shed horns 
of tue elk, relics of earlier abundance of that noble animal, 
attached to the stream a name that is full of reminder of a 
past that can never come again to bless and ctieer the 
hunter. 
B<! that as it may, there is no more lovely stream in all 
Kentucky — a stream brimming with picturesque delights 
and with bless d memories of red-letter days. Its long 
reaches of quitt, deep water, formei by the dams on its up- 
per branches, are full of silver perch, that most delicate of 
fish for the table, with black bass and rock bass in reasonable 
quantity. But below the famous Macklio Dam— a cemented, 
cut-stone structure arched against the current, and possessed 
apparently of an eternal stability — clear down tbe rugged 
defiles, and along the wider valleys to the Kentucky River, 
are thf trysting places of the anglpr. D ep cut in the Silu 
rian hills, Ihertcky channel of Elihnrn changes direction 
from sheer necessity at short intervals, the gentle vall(-y tome- 
times abutting tquarely against some towering, cragey cliff, 
beneath whose beetling brow the shaiowy pools see little of 
the sun. In these tranquil waters, where the angry floods of 
the sprir g rises have swept out the loose stones and boulders, 
leaving only the greater rocks that have fallen from the hill- 
sides and the concealed ledges, the bronzed warriors find 
lurking homes and cool retreats. Here they are safe from 
the seiner and the drag; but too often, ala^! just such spots 
attract the attention and deadly expl laives of the dynamiter. 
At the foot of the deeper pools, which recur at short dis- 
tances, are shoals and ripples, where the water splashes and 
sings merrily and musically in its swift gliding ovtr the 
gravel and boulders, over ttie broken limestone shelves and 
around the jugged corners, until it finds rest in calmer 
depths, whose surface mayhap be freckled with sunshine 
sprinkled through the overhanging tree tops of some wooded 
dell. At the head of the pools in spring, and at their foot in 
the fall, the bass are wont to lurk and feed Ytt wben the 
trees are in scarlet scarcely a submerged rock or projecting 
shelf but has its hidden supply of the finny tribe ever on the 
alert. 
Here and there are gravelly banks, sloping to the water, 
shadowed by thick-foliaged forest tre«-s aad edged with a 
carpet of green, velvety grass, -making the mo t delightful 
picnic grounds for a day's outing. Thea there are more ex- 
tenjsive fiats, near bubbling springs, for campers of longer 
stay. 
The bed of Elkhorn Creek is formed largely of the fiat 
layers of bird-eye limestone that outcrop everywhere along 
the valley of the Kentucky. These layers or ledges project 
along tne sides or tar into the pools — ei'her o'erhanging t!ie 
ledge beneath, or the soft clay between has washed out, pro- 
ducing deep r> cesses where the fish lie secure from attack in 
summer and free from the dangers of floods in winter. 
These secret dens are where the blue and mud-cat invariably 
stay, coming out at nightfall to hunt their prey in shallower 
water. Here they rest reasonably se ure from all enemies 
until the two-legged "assastin," slick in hand, prowls along 
their rock home, stoops down till sometimes a battered hat 
over a pnir of fierce eye alone shows above tbe surface, 
pruds with the stick carefully under ihe ledge till it touches 
something that moves, reverses the stick, feels again and then 
sends the sharp, barbed steel ho<'k deep into the fish, drags 
him out and "puts him in de big." ° 
Sometimes this style of "assassination" is carried on with 
the naked hand, in which ease the owner not infrequently 
finds dimself in touch wiih snake or turtle. 
The rocky shdllows, full of pebbles, gravel and fragmen- 
tary stonts, afford splendid breeding spots for the small- 
mouth black bass, found here in all the strength and btauty 
of his active nature He has exclusive possessioo as against 
his large-mouth ralative. This fact, witn the abundance of 
food supply— minnows, crayfish, helgramites, etc —pre- 
vented the ceaseless, skilled efforts of hundred* of anglers in 
all the years back froai making the fishing of Elkborn Creek 
a memory only. True, the number of the fl^h has dimin- 
ished much and the average size has sadly lessened in the 
thirty years since first T cast a hook in its attractive waters ; 
but during the past year many fine strings have been taken 
and there is sport yet for the angler who loves his art and 
knows how to apply it. A red letter day in this particular 
we shall note later on 
To the intrepid, artful, gallant warrior bass of Elkhorn 
Creek — the gamest of game fish according to its size— fighters 
while strength la^ts, full of expedients and daring — is due, 
as we honestly belicve, the raising of a crop — or two gener- 
ations, if you please — of as fiue anglers within d-ady reach 
of its waters a^ ever cast a book or wel a hue. Edu< ated 
with tbe best of tackle — a ililam reel and a Kentucky cane 
rod, with lines deLder and f<trong— they waded among the 
boulders on the smooth, slippery ledges, patiently" and 
gently drew the minnow about ana across the retreats of the 
bass, and as coolly fought the battle out with the hooked 
fish as if his e^capp would not add another beat to the heart 
that was throbbing quickly enough within the breast 
When one of these old veterans took a bee line for the 
creek or was seen standing about its pools there was a grim 
certainty that there would be ultimate need for the frying- 
pan at home. The novice, the water splasher and the min- 
now killer could only look on and grow green with envy or 
despise himself for his lack of knowledge. How often has 
the hungry imitator watched one of these veterans — fixed his 
bait on tbe hook just as he had it, got the same kind and 
s\zi of minnow from the bucket, edged up close, let out the 
same quantity of line, fooled around the same spot, and 
then— with a ghastly grin and on all-overish mean feeling 
watched the "old man" yank 'em out, while his own bait 
was haunted wi*h neglect, and his line lay limp and listless. 
No use, mere wishing doesn't catch fl>ih any more than it 
controls men; it U knowledge, experience, patience, skill, 
that does the work in one case as in the other. 
Among the famous fishermen of Eikhorn Creek — "men I 
have fished with," or most of them— was Gen Geo, B. Crit- 
tenden. He seemed intuitively to know juit where the bass 
ought to be and j ust what kind of food would tempt an 
appetite when not spt^cially edged. He never seemed so 
contented as when wading the waters of Elkhorn in his 
anglrs for bass, often btauding for hours solitary and alone — 
his minnow, free of cork or sinker, led gently about tbe bot- 
tom, or left at will to search, apparently, for some fiuny 
monster with an appetite Even in winter, when some clear 
day warmer than usual would come, he would sometimes 
walk out to Benson, a tributary of the Kentucky near 
Frankfort, break the fringe of ice along the edge and wade 
in to fish. 
Silent, thoughtful, reserved except to the few friends he 
cared to talk with, the last days of his life after the wreck 
of the Confederacy were spent mainly on Elkhorn in sympa- 
thy with nature, following his favorite pastime and at peace 
apparently with all the world. He never ate fish, and de- 
spised to catch a catfish. 
He was the best creek fisherman I ever knew, and always 
insisted there were at least two days in the week when fish 
would bite His knowledge of fish and their habits, his ex- 
tended travels and experiences of army life, and his close 
observation of nature in all its varying moods, made his talks 
ever deligbtful. 
Another noted fisherman was Dr. Wm. Morris — a country 
physician — who was always after the biggest bass, and gen- 
erally got them. A teniai gentleman of the olc school, hos- 
pitable and kindly, he sandwiched many a trip to the creek 
between visits to the bedsides of his patients. He fished 
without sinker generally, but moulded a bit of conical lead 
on the bottom of his cork to give weight for the throw-out. 
In the lall, long after frost came, he caught many big bass 
by fi-^hing on the bottom. Tue odd days he would tpend in 
his shop, hammering out steel tins for his friends or mend- 
ing and oiling his tackle. He constructed his own minnow 
seines, and was an expert in giving tnem the proper length, 
depth, bag and lead line. 
The hero of the "big bite," aa heretofore told in Forest 
AND Stream, when a "shite poke" walked out from the 
grass, ascended his set pole with awkward balances and flew 
away unnoticed except for the nodding of the pole, cau-ing 
him to exclaim "Thar's a bite!" was one of the best fisher- 
men of hia day. To Uncle Lee Walking the creek was an 
open book, with rock and boulder and ledge and crevice and 
step-off plainly marked on the page. Selecting a spot for 
the day's sport, he would bait his hook witn great care, and 
after a trial or two would land his minnow or "soft craw" at 
the proper place, ejaculate a satisfactory "jusi right!" plant 
his pole, fill his pipe with tobacco and begio a smoke of 
contentment as he watched the tremulous motion of his line. 
His waitirg habit often brought a success in the size of his 
fi h thai more active anglers could only equal in numbers. 
Nor did he care for fish— he said his stomach "couldn't bear 
'em." 
There are those who were trained under the guidance of 
Uncie Lee Watkins who will swear to day "he was the best 
fisherman that ev r took the creek " And they are no mean 
judges of the Waltonian art— capable, in fact, wire the old 
man alive to-day, to make him "hustle" to hold his own. 
Then there was Thad Sullivan, who was said to know by 
name the fish of the creek from Knight's Bridge to below 
Peak's Mill. It is certain at least that when he saddled his 
horse, took his minnow bucket and started for the creek, the 
fish were sure to respond to his call to "come out of the 
wet." His favorite fishing grounds were about the Cow 
Pond in Giult'a Bend, the head and foot of the Qiv Hole, 
the long pool above Jackson's and the Meeting Hoiise Hole 
above P. aK's Mill. And he had much of the hunter's in- 
stinct, for he was one of the first to know when the "blue- 
wings" were on the creek and the tirft to get 'em He 
enj jyed fishing as a woman enjoys shopp ng — with infinite 
zest — and no fish protector ever bore a more cordial hatred 
of the ways of the dynamiter and fi^h hog than he. H was 
sturdy in his defense of the rights of the honest fisherman 
and an earnest advocate of fish protection and propisaiion. 
Dr. Ben Duvail grew up by the creek in eirJivr life and 
was ever eager to renew the angles of his youth. His skill 
in linding the bionz .--backers was only less thin his natural 
gi ts in the diagnosis and cure of disease Rimoved to Ihe 
city in later ;ite, he s-eemed to yearn for the restful periods 
when he could break away from the rhythm of the pulse to 
the rhythm of the waters; from splints and band g.s lo the 
bend of the rod and the click of the reel. In hi^ fading 
strength the presence of the creek gave balm to his spirit, 
and a sense of healing was wafted • n the wings of the sott 
winds that came to him over the meadows.'' 
In his last hours, when the end was only a matter of lime, 
the subject of fishing was mentioned, and with sudden 
strength he rose halfway in bed, his eyes full of light and 
his cheek? aglow, and eagerly exclaimed: "Oh, Sdm, we'll 
have one more good fish together yet!" 
A near neighbor to Dr. Duvall in the early days was an- 
other splendid fisherman, Hillory Bedford, whose home 
crowned the hill top above the creek. A forceful mind 
and intelligent observation gave to his knowledge of 
the art more than ordinary value. His discriminative talks 
on the habits of fish, the freaks and foibles with which the 
art of catching the black bass was attended, the eager relish 
he showed in their capture, gave to his companionship a 
pleasure zealously sought. 
Then there were Jeff Jones and Wick French, whose 
prowess on the M.iin Pork have long ago made their names 
household words wiih anglers and ihe synonyms for suc- 
cess. 
Oncle Llewellyn Holf?n, cow past the three score and ten, 
was long the "king bee'" of the Forks as to all matters relat- 
ing to why fish bite, when they will bite, where they stay, 
how they grow, bow to induce them to come out of tho 
water responsive to the call of a good angler, and why igno- 
rant and presump'uous people can't catch fish. 
We doubt not he has taken more fine fish out of the rocky 
pool at the confluence of the main and south branches than 
would fill a faii'-sized corn crib. 
When his success supplied more fish than the needs of his 
table and friends, he deposited the remainder in the large 
basin of his spring, where they swam in the pure waters till 
needed — some of them occasionally remaining all winter. 
The basin was full of fine fish one winter, partly preserved 
for Christmas, when the night before Christmas a party of 
young fellows visited the spring during the quiet hours, 
when Uncle Llewellyn was asleep, and stole eighteen fine 
bass that weighed ov r 2(bs. each. They were taken to El- 
lis's famous restaurant in town, a choice company gathered, 
and a genuine "Christmas wak^" was hell, with fish as the 
center att action, till breaking day caused the company to 
scatter. To this day Uncle Llewellyn doesn't know who 
robbed him, though he carried a cigar, found at the spring, 
for weeks to find who smoked cigars like that. 
Many years ago, when Judge Nutter (famous as the judge 
who adjourned court to see the elephirt swim tbe Keniucky 
River) presided in the Franklin Circuit, Uucle Llewellyn 
Holton was summoned on the jury This was unfortunate, 
as he had just arranged with a party for a deer hunt in the 
Owen Hills. Coming to town on Saturday (court met the 
Monday following), he went to see Judge JS utter and laid 
the case before him, asking to be excused f '•om jury service; 
"Well, Llewellyn," said Judge Nutter, ' I haven't eaten a 
real good fish for a long time — see if you can't find some 
and bring "em to town Monday, and we'll see what we can 
do " 
It i^ doubtful if Holton observed sacredly the Sunday fol- 
lowing, but at any rate he was in town early Monday morn- 
ing with a fine string of 3 and 31b. bass, which were duly 
consigned to Judge Nutter. 
Before court opened Holton edged up to the judge and re- 
marked, "I reckon you'll let me off, judge— them was fine 
fiah." 
"Now, look here, Llewellyn," replied Judge Nutter, "if I 
were to let you go now it w )uld look too much like bribery 
— I guf'ss you'll bave to serve." . 
All day long Holton served on the jury ^but his heart waa 
not in it. The matter didn't seem right to his square way of 
looking at things. 
Just before court adjourned Judge Nutter beckoned Hol- 
ton to him. "Llewellyn," said he, "I reckon we can get 
along without vou— you can go " 
Mo-t of the older fishermen mentioned have crossed to the 
shade beyond the great river. Their footsteps no longer 
tramp tbe windings of the cre' k. 
Then— "there are others"— di-^ciples of the older class, apt 
scholars too, and, full of the spirit of the fathers. No grass 
grows uu'ier their feet when the time comes to "goa-fishtu'." 
Many of thtm are "past graduates" ot Eikhorn and masters 
of the art of bail fishing- for the dainty, deceitful "fraud of 
the fly" has seldom dropped upon the crystal waters of that 
charming stream 
The Elkhorn bass decline to feed upon such unsubstantial 
viands. Thty hold their noses as they oass by on the other 
side. They kno v well the juicy minnow, sucker, doe- belly, 
shiners, forked-tail and delicious steelback— soft and hard 
craws, angle-worms, grubs, crickets, grasshoppers and hel- 
gramites or "go-devils"— but these new tangled bugs, unlike 
anything on earih below or in heaven above, they will have 
them not. 
Of the host of the present generation of anglers, some of 
whom can always ' e found upon the creek in the fishing 
season, th re are those who could teach the "daddies" a few 
points in the art of angling Jimmie Gibbens, with his No. 
8 Clark 0 N. T. thread dne, playing a 3 pounder in hiS 
wild dashes for liberty, and finally landing him safely upon 
the bank, a gasping, exhausted captive exhibits a skill that 
borders on the marvelous S ^wing thread of ihe caliber 
meniioned is largely med by Frankfort fishermen in silver 
perch, bream and bass fishing but the awkward or inatten- 
tive will find It most reliable in the parting. 
Dick Church tak-s front rank in the line of expert fisher- 
men, and H-n y Duvall knows every rock and 1 dge and 
wa'.er gap, from the mouth of the creek to Jones's Dam or 
Scott's Crossing. 
Dick Morris grew up on the creek under the teachings of 
two generations ot angl rs, and the fish he has caught are 
like the sanjs for multitude. He is a member of the King- 
fishers, as are Chas. C. Purr and G.o. L Payne, who find 
the bass of E.khorn the "gamest of the game," aeile acro- 
bats and vicious fighters, if less weighty than their brethren 
of Carp, Echo, Manistique or Hubbard lakes of the Njrth. 
Dick Crutcher handles a rod and reel with that exquisite 
ease of action that denotes long and careful experience, a keen 
eye, an i a certainty of doing the right thing at the right 
lime. He is tireless and peri-i^tent in bis aughng outings, 
compaaionable and lib ral ii. flibmg am -nities; and seldom 
is it that he returns homeward with a light Cieel — never an 
empty one. 
No less 8ucc^>8sful and skill fid is genial Ned Cburob, 
Who lives near the Baib cue S^-)ring, famoi^ for its "fl -h 
fries" of the olden time. Ned ih a whole acr^ of sunshine 
when he is od the ere. k— lull of j ikc", aud with a keen ap- 
pn ciatian of ihe humorous lines of a good ti'^h story And 
withal he handles a rod to perf ctioo. When Ned don't 
catch fiah, tney don't bite and wou't bite. 
In gathering numbers are other expert anglers, who handle 
line and reel aud rod wiih lofiuite grace and skill — as Junie 
Todd, Jim Hawkins, Dr. Thompson, Oby Morgan, L'-'wis 
Craig, James Withraw, Will Culter, Jno. W Rodman, Geo. 
Ddi>ie, (Red) Will Saffell and, we may almost add, the lialf 
of Franiifort's male population, to which class belong such 
resident fishermen of the creek as Joe Holton, Frank French, 
Nels Alley and G o. Bacon. 
The story of the expert fishermen of Elkhorn is not yet 
fully told, lor what old Jim Batcher was to the Kentucky 
River, Jesse Hocker is to the creek — the king of colored 
anglers. With lunch bag over shoulder, and rod and min- 
now bucket in hand, he silently stedls away to some spot 
where tne fish stay and "yanks 'em in" with ceriaiuty and 
ease. Able to drop his bait in a tin cup at thirty steps, he 
finds no place too d>lflcult to reach with his seductive hook. 
In tne senson it is doubt); ul which gets the most of his time, 
the creek or his shop, 
Cl-oac up wuh Jes>ie, and sometimes disputing the front, 
is Andy D nni.^on, another expert colored angler. He sup- 
plies ihuse Who havtn'i time to g t it wuh bail minnows and 
"craws." And wiihal he is a cook of no mean pretension* 
at fiah fries and picnic parties. 
