Mat 15, 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
389 
he not, in times gone by, in vain spent days and dollars to 
' get sight, even of one of these much lauded fish. "Wa'al," 
I quoth John Plummer, "just come over to the cook house 
I and praps you'll change your mind." TJp we stalked in 
solemn single file, hent 'neath the low lintel, and there in 
the gloom in all its own magnificence lay a monster 
\ salmon! It had been taken the day before by a gentleman 
\ who had pever previously caught one, and, as it afterward 
proved, it was his only fish. "Thirty inches long, 9in. 
broad and weighs 161bs. 4oz.," says the owner. Such an 
I introduction was satisfactory to all doubters! Congratula- 
I tions poured in from all, with an occasional aside of, "fish- 
1 erman's luck! the greenhorn always gets the best fish." 
So back we meandered to our own quarters, not exactly 
envious, you know, but with an air of dubious introspec- 
tion. • 
How we did watch the weather-vane that swung upon 
the next cottage! That yellow fish vacillated from south 
to west, occasionally trifling with points of the compass 
further northward. Six o'clock came, and — glory be to 
Peter, the patron saint of all true anglers— it was steady at 
due north. But at that hour it needed no weather-vane 
to proclaim the change. After supper we began to fill up 
the stove with good, hard wood and pull on extra coats, 
for the freezing wind was roaring through every cranny 
and out of doors nipped noses and fingers as if it was the 
depth of winter. Frank looked in upon us just before we 
turned in. Fat and Jolly, his pipes wheezing with a hor- 
rid cold, he lightened the gloom of our spirits with a 
cheery "Good night, don't worry, Doc, there won't be a 
morsel of this ice here to-morrow mornin'." 
We had not been together long enough as yet to estab- 
lish that happy state of true comradery, which is the mark 
of all true fisherfolk. But in one thing we were entirely 
harmoniou.s — ^the necessity of going to bed, "all standing," 
as the sailors say, if we expected to live till morning. It 
was confoundedly cold! The thickest of winter undercloth- 
ing and stockings, and possibly a pair of trousers besides, 
were adopted as the fit robe of night, and we were none 
too warm at that-. No pajamas for us, if you please! Once 
or twice during the night the pain of an almost frozen 
nose awoke me to make another grab for the thick com- 
fortables, which I feared my bed-fellow was absorbing too 
generously. 
At last a doleful howl from John in the front room 
awoke me. It was bright day again. The sun shone 
, clear into the house, and the wind was piping merrily out- 
side. "Too bad. Just our luck. There's that plaguy ice 
just where it was last night. No fishing for us to-day!" 
We all groaned in chorus, but as I was nearest the win- 
dow on the lake side of the house, I mustered up courage 
I for a look myself. Lo, not a vestige of our bSte noir of the 
I day before was there. The lake was as free from ice as it 
i is in August. And this was only one of John Plummer's 
'■ little jokes! 
Off we started at half-past 6. Nansen, on his sledge 
I journey, didn't begin to wear as many garments as we did. 
Never, in all my experience with Maine winters, did I feel 
the cold as I did during that morning's fishing. I simply 
could not keep warm nor even comfortably cold. Every 
drop of spray turned to ice; icicles hung to the oars; the 
lines iced up so that they would not slip through the 
guides of the rods. Our several boats cruised up and down 
: half a mile or so parallel with the shore. Each used two 
rods, trolling from 150 to 200ft. of line, with an Archer 
spinner or blue-backed phantom for bait. The only relief 
from the biting wind was when we turned southward 
toward the sun, then Sumner, my guide, would improve 
the opportunity in trying to pound a little feeling into bis 
stinging hands. 
After an hour of teeth-chattering and no salmon I de- 
cided that I, at least, knew when I had enough. It seemed 
hours before we got ashore, and it was noon before I was 
decently warmed through. Charley had the only luck 
that morning, sticking to it until 11 o'clock, and being re- 
warded for his pains, or better, freezing, by two fish: one 
of 81bs., and one ISlbs. 
While we sat around the fire in the "settin' room" that 
night he told us how he managed to keep out so long: 
"The secret lies in being properly clothed. I had on, first, 
two pairs of extra heavy winter flannel shirts, and two 
pairs of drawers. Next, vest and two pairs of trousers. 
Then a heavy sweater; outside this a double wool-lined 
canvas shooting jacket, and over all a thick ulster." 
"My body wasn't cold, but my feet were," says Bert. 
"Oh, I looked out for that. I put on two pairs of hand- 
knit wool socks, and my arctics over my shoes. Then I 
tied my hat down with a big handkerchief and wrapped 
up my knees in a double pair of wool blankets. Lucky 
we didn't capsize — I should have gone straight to the 
bottom." 
Neither Bert nor George caught anything that day, but 
after dinner I tempted Providence and the fish again and 
got a beauty of Slbs, It was a female, long, slender, her 
sides burnished silver, setoff with the peculiar black spots 
• along the head and back. None can study such a creation 
without acknowledging that the salmon is the king Of our 
Northern waters. 
How Charley's eyes blazed as he lived over again the 
capture of his big tiah. During the morning he found that 
the only way he could keep his line serviceable was by 
retrieving that part which lay on the surface of the water, 
breaking off the ice which would form upon it, and then 
pajnng out again. Just after one of these performances 
he had a good strike. He reeled in up to the ice which 
had reformed upon the line, but all attempts to make the 
rest of the line render were useless. The fish was then 
allowed to play until Charley could reach up and break 
off the ice collection. Then the reeling began again, when 
another difficulty appeared. This time it was the reel. 
Though a new one, the internal machinery had broken 
down, and, though Charley was grinding the crank vigor- 
ously, the salmon was slowly and surely getting further 
away. Quickly throwing the rod down into the boat he 
retrieved the line hand over hand with mittens on. This 
was not a perfect success, for while at times Charley had 
the fish, at other times the fish had Charley. Meantime 
the strong wind had driven the boat a mile or so out into 
the lake. He had the good fortune to have an accom- 
plished guide, Mr. Oliver, the fish warden of the lake, 
who, by the way, is making a good impression upon both 
sportsmen and natives by his manly, comtuon-sense inter- 
pretation of his official duties. "Don't give him up," yelled 
OUver, "we'll hang to him, if he carries us to the foot of 
the pond." 
After struggling for an hour, the salmon was brought 
near enough to net. The net was a new one that had be- 
come well frozen while lying unused in the boat. After 
making it serviceable by wringing off the ice, the guide 
slipped it under the fish at the first trial. But the instant 
the salmon felt the touch of the cord, to the dismay of 
both Charly and the guide, there was mad break through 
the net, leaving nothing but a few bloody sti'ands hanging 
to the ring. "We must gaff him," cries'Oliver; but theie 
was no gaff in the boat. "Then I'll try to get my finge] s 
into his gills." From an experience gained by long serv- 
ice as fish-keeper in the Sebago Fisli Hatchery, he reached 
his arm full length into the water, thrust his fingers into 
the fish's gills, and with a mighty heave landed him into 
the boat. With less adroit handling or a single false move- 
ment, the salmon would certainly have been lost. A long, 
hard pull was necessary before the landing was reached, 
but it was a grand fight, and the fish was worth it. 
Wednesday morning illustrated another of the phases 
of our fickle April weather. During the night the wind 
had shifted back again to the South. Along the edges of 
the shore half an inch of ice had formed, and at the first 
of the fishina the cold was nearly as intense as during the 
day before. But as the forenoon lengthened the sun grew 
hotter. Boats began to thicken as more and more fisher- 
men came out. Backwards and forwards across the bar 
the long lines trailed, and strikes became frequent. The 
day was a perfect one for sport, and it was found that 
more than forty salmon, some quite large, had been taken 
during it. It was my good fortune to capture the third 
largest fish taken up to that night. In the morning I got 
one 4-pounder on a silver phantom; but during the after- 
noon, while others around me were successful, I was not. 
We hated to give up beaten, so Sumner and I stayed out 
until almost every other boat had gone in. It was grow- 
ing dusk, but Sumner, faithful fellow, said, "Let's swing 
round once more," and at the last turn we got him. I 
knew it was a large one, and when I reeled him up to the 
net and saw the great greenish sides swinging up through 
the clear water, I felt that I had not lived in vain! Even 
Sumner's wonted placidness was ruffled, as he said, "Just 
lllbs., and a beauty." And now his portrait in colors hangs 
above me, to remind me that "all things come to him who 
waits." 
It had been a great fish day. Each of our party had 
taken at least one, and many of the other fishermen were 
jubilant over good catches. So, naturally, the post prandial 
talk was upon the general subject of landlocked salmon. 
Their habits and of course their weight were discussed. 
Each member of the quartette furnished his quota to the 
common stock of knowledge, and capped the last story by 
one a "leetle" bigger. By and by the door opened, and 
Levi came in with Charley, who had been on a rampage 
among the other camps, to hear them "swap lies," as he 
mildly put it. Levi is one of the veterans of this region. 
Years before the present game laws were heard of he had 
taken salmon out of the lake' and river by every device 
then known. At night, under the glare of the pitch pine 
knot, he had speared them; he had shot them with his 
rifle as they lay upon the spawning beds; and nowadays, 
under the restrictions of the warden, his lines are trolled 
in surely pleasant places, for his good luck is proverbial. 
So, of course, he was at once accosted with "How big a 
salmon did you ever see?" 
Slowly and in silence he drew up his chair by the stove, 
filled his corn-cob afresh, and scratched a match upon the 
leg of his trousers. How many times every one has wit- 
nessed that process! First the match is split off from the 
card, scrutinized carefully to find the sulphur end, drawn 
with two or three short strokes up and down the nether 
garment, and with the last stroke lengthened out to the 
arm's length, held up until the brimstone burns off. Then 
well afire and already half consumed, it is laid carefully 
upon the tobacco, a few deep puffs— and another soul is 
content with the charmed weed. Still silent, Levi took his 
pipe from his mouth, worked his jaws up and down several 
times to see if they were acting well, and like Ulysses be- 
fore his hearers, "thus began." 
"0' course, I've seed bigger fish than I ever hefted. Up 
in the weir we often find 'em better than 2-51 bs. But years 
ago I 'member one spring comin' down fhe river in the 
canoe. I see a big splashin' jest below the head of a rip. 
At fust I didn't sense what it was. I runs the canoe up 
ashore and runs down the bank opposite, and seen it was 
a big black spot aground in the shallow. The water war 
'bout 2ft. deep, and the critter's back was stickin' out all of 
1ft., an' he war thrashin' round with his tail tremenjus. I 
run back to the canoe for my spear, which I happen' to 
have with me. It had a middlin'-sized handle, 'bout as 
big as my arm, and I runs up and let him have it, as hard 
as I could drive, right onto his back. Next I knowed I 
was flat onto my back in the mud, the handle of the spear 
all busted to pieces and the iron bent double. I never 
hurt the feller a might, and he tore off up the rip inter 
deep water. He was shot the next day, and so I knowed 
jest how much he weighed." 
"How much was it, Levi?" 
"Waal, we didn't have nothin' to weigh him there, so 
we took him up to the Lock and put him on the scales, and 
he weighed jest 501bs." 
What a yell went up from the audience, and how the 
voice of George triumphed above all others, "I believe it, 
I believe it!" 
Thursday was another hot day. What a contrast in 
forty-eight hours! Up to noon the lake was unruffled silver. 
Not even the softest breath of a summer's zephyr stirred 
its glassy surface. The sun burned our faces and blistered 
our noses, as it was reflected from the water. With such 
conditions of sky and river, few fish were taken, though 
just at noon, during a temporary roughening of the water, 
two fish rewarded our patience. But our furlough was 
over. After dinner came that saddest and happiest hour 
for the true disciple of Walton, when the rods are un- 
jointed, the fish packed to carry out, and boiled shirts are 
necessary for the conventionalities of a more fastidious 
civilization. Oui- guides rowed us across the lake to 
Sandy Beach, where we met the afternoon stage for the 
station. 
On the road we met a party of natives, one of whom was 
carrying under his arm a bundle, from out of whose wrap- 
pings protruded the head and tail of a large salmon. 
"Where did you get him?" 
"At the mouth of Northwest Eiver, this morning, on a 
live bait." 
"How much does he weigh?" 
"Fourteen pounds and a half; and it took an hour to 
land him." 
It was a fitting ending to a most successful trip. And 
when next day our fish were displayed in the city, one of 
their admirers voiced the general opinion, "the finest lot 
of Sebago salmon ever shown here in one collection," 
Stanley P. Wahrek. 
Portland. 
ANGLING NOTES. 
The Switch Cast. 
Soon after the fly-casting tournament at Madison Square 
Garden in March, I received the following letter from a 
gentleman in Easton, Pa., and promised to reply to it, but 
have not been able to do so until now : 
"Will you pardon my writing to you on the ground of a 
slight provocation, occasioned by a circumstance foreign to 
yourself. 
"The fact is I traveled all the way from this place on March 
18, to Madison Square Garden, in order to witness switch 
casting, something I had never seen, but had heard of, only 
to find when I ranged myself alongside of the tank that the 
event bad been postponed, on account of^the class not filling:. 
The request I have to make is that you kindly describe as well 
as you can, how the cast is made, and in a public event what 
is barred. That ia, what do you have to do, and not do, in 
order lo keep within the lines where switch casting begins 
and ends. I have read a description of switch casting; but 
it does not seem possible that wi'h some 70ft, of fine lying 
in the water in front of you, that by simply describing a 
circle with the tip of the rod while over your head, and then 
threshing it forward and downward, the line is going to pick 
itself up and go rolling onward to a distance of 100ft. or 
more." 
The best description I ever heard of a switch, or spey 
cast, as it is more generally called in Great Britain, pro- 
bably because it originated on the river Spey in Scotland, 
was in Land and Water (1 think) many years ago, and writ- 
ten by Geo. M. Kelson ; but it had with it diagrams enough 
to illustrate a book of considerable proportions, and it seems 
like a. formidable undertaking to even attempt to describe 
the cast without a single diagram of some sort or other. 
The cast is more easily made on a stream with sufficient 
current to produce a drag on the line. I know of but one 
or two printed descriptions of the cast, and the latest and 
simplest is by Mr. Marston, in a book which was issued last 
year, but it has the inevitable diagram, and does not make 
the cast much, if any, clearer to the comprehension than the 
description my correspondent gives, and perhaps I may not 
succeed any better. The angler stands on the bank of a 
stream with his line in the water extending down stream. 
The first movement is to lift the line to the surface of the 
water. Tnis maybe done by the time the rod points upward 
at an angle of 45°. The motion of the rod is continued up- 
ward, but quickly when the line is clear of the water, and to 
the right, the point of the rod stopping over and a little back 
of the angler's head. The idea of this part of tJie motion is 
to draw the line toward the caster and a little to his right in 
the form of^a loop, without lifting ttie fly from the water. If 
the motion is properly made when the point of the rod is 
over and back of the angler's head the line has bellied, form- 
ing a loop like the curve of a letter D at the right of the 
angler's position, and the fly is still on the water in front of 
him. The motion is now continued by the rod tip making 
the straight line of the D downward with force, imparting 
impetus to the fine, which rolls it out on the water in the 
direction in which the rod is pointed. The line is lifted 
from the water, not as in the recovery for a back cast, but 
with force simply to form the loop, while the fly remains on 
the water. The quick, sharp motion of the rod tip forward 
and downward gives a forward movement to the line nearest 
to the rod tip, and this naturally is communicated along the 
whole length of the line, and it is impelled forward in one 
long, continuous roll. You must have loop enough to feel 
the "pull" of the line when you make the sharp forward 
movement with the rod, and the momentum then given to 
the line constitutes the switch cast, as nearly as I can describe 
it in words. 
The first switch cast I ever made was with a rope, and I 
did not know it was a .switch cast at the time; but I believe 
I can do it better now with a rope than I can do it with a 
rod. A boyish pastime was to draw a rope on the grass 
until it was nearly extended, then pull up a little slack (the 
loop of the switch cast), and with a rotary motion of the 
slack impart momentum to the rope that extended clear to 
the end in undulating curves, finishing with a crack at the 
end if it was well done. 
The one thing you may not do in switch casting is to 
throw your fly behind you. At the tournament in the con- 
tests for switch casting a screen of canvas was erected a few 
feet behind the caster, so he could not throw his fly back of 
it even had he wished to do so. Otherwise the contests for 
switch casting are not unlike overhead casting. 
American Fisheries' Society. 
President Whitaker, of the American Fisheries' Society, 
recently appointed a committee Of prominent gentlemen in 
Detroit to arrange a programme of entertainment when the 
Society meets in that city, June 17, 18 and 19. One feature 
proposed is to have a fly-casting tournament at Belle Isle, 
and a sub-committee was appointed to make the necessary 
arrangements with the Park Board. President Whitaker 
is doing everything in his power to make the twenty- 
sixth annual meeting of the Society a notable one. 
I received a letter from him this morning in 
which he says in part: "I think I can assure 
you of the success of the social features of the coming meet- 
ing now. I have appointed the sub-committeea on enter- 
tainment, etc., and as soon as they have definitely settled on 
their programme we will inform you. * * * We expect 
a large attendance from the Lake States, and I hope the 
Eastern members will be well represented. We hope to 
have some of the scientific men of the Middle West with 
us; men who have been interested actively in investigations 
connected with fish and fishculture. * * * s/sfe shall 
give you a good time socially after the work is done, and 
hope to show you something of what the officer in charge of 
the Spanish caravals saw fit to call the rival of the Mediter- 
ranean when he was on his way up the lakes bonnd to Chi- 
cago with his charges." 
The meetings of the Society have generally been held in 
the East— New York, Washington or Philadelphia— in years 
past, but a considerable portion of the membership comes 
from the West and Middle West, and the Detroit meeting 
promises to be one that no member, no matter where he 
lives, can afford to miss. When the Western people set out 
