128 
gwine away, an' w'en he so close by, seems like I mus' 
pull him in. Nex' time I try yo' way an' put de net 
undah him; but I used to pull him in awn de line." 
"Why don't you bait your hook and take a fish? I 
Avant to see you handle one." 
"Golly, Mr. Smith, I'se waitin' to see yo' cotch one 
on de little pole an' de fiddle string. It 'peared like 
he was goin' to break away fum de line an' break yo' 
pole, an' I got so 'cited T dun hole my breff, 1 did, fo' 
a fac'. Dat ah was a big trout to pull in awn a fiddle 
string, an' I'se jes' a honin' fo' to see yo' cotcli one. 
Yo' dun cotch dat ah one on'y fo' my foolishness, but 
I promise not to touch de line ag'in." 
A few casts of the brown hackle brought a rise and a 
strike. There was quite a little fight, and as the fish 
was brought in Gus netted it in good shape. It .was 
a big-mouth that would weigh about ^Ib. Gus took a 
number with minnows, some large ones, but he became 
excited when I hooked another big one, and he came 
near repeating his former mistake, but refrained from 
grasping the line when he heard what I said. There 
was no time to argue the case, and my remarks were 
vigorous and to the point. They arrested the out- 
stretched hand at once, and the landing net was substi- 
tuted in good shape. That fish weighed nearly gibs, on the 
grocer's scales. We took twenty black bass at that 
spot, and two of them were small-mouths of small size. 
They jumped out of the water, and so did many of the 
big-mouths, and that excited Gus every time. He used 
strong tackle and whacked a fish in the boat by main 
strength, if the hook did not tear out, and there was but 
little fight. He saw a new mode of fishing which af- 
forded more sport than his own, and when I said: "Gus, 
I've got trout enough and had fun enough Avith them; 
let's go to some other place and catch different fish," he 
asked to be allowed to take a "trout" with my tackle. 
"No, Gus, you'll break rod, reel and line, and you 
can't cast a fly as I do. If a fish rose at the fly and 
you hooked it, you would try to lift it on the rod, and 
then the 'fiddle string' would break if the fish kicked." 
And so we went from the margin of the weeds to the 
deeper waters. 
'"'What fish do you get out here?" 
"Well, sah, we gits catties, pike, crappies, perch an' 
a lot o' kinds; I doan' know de names oh all oh 'em; 
some dey calls 'em 'red-eye' an' some dey calls 'em 
'waw-mouth' an' sun perch an' raccoon perch, an' a lot 
o' names, but dey's all good w'en dey's fried, 'cept de 
gars, an' dey's pizon." 
A light wind took us up the lake, and I got out a 
trolling rod and spoon. Gus had seen the latter, and 
called it a "bob." He put on a sinker and minnow bait, 
and I trolled the spoon. A- heavy strike brought in a 
long-snouted 4ft. gar, and Gus put his pocket-knife in 
his jaws while I cut the spoon out of its throat. If this 
ganoid had perished when most of its kin were made 
into fossils, tlie fish world would be richer to-day; it 
is very destructive and is not fit to eat. I asked Gus 
ii^ he had ever eaten this gar-pike, which, by the way, 
should not be confounded with the silver gar of salt 
waters, which often run up rivers. The latter is edible, 
and I have seen schools of small ones as far up the Hud- 
son as Albany, where we boys called them "swordfish." 
"No," he replied, "I doan' eat no ole gah, but I tas'e 
him once, an' he got sof meat, but hees bone and bees 
skin is hard 'uuff. Some poor colored people eat um, 
but I can get bettah fish; trout an' pike an' crappie, 
dey's good 'nuf? fo' me. But dis yah gah is de long- 
snout kine, an' doan' grow much longer 'an dis yah one; 
but down 'bout Opelousas I cotch de big kine we calls 
alligatah gah, 'cause he got flat jaw like de gatah, an' I 
dun cotch one long as dis boat, me. and two oddah boys, 
an' we broke bofe oars a clubbin' him awn de head 
befo' he keep still an' we paddle to de sho'. Oh, I tell 
yo', he take a man's han' off, an' knock him down wid 
hees tail." 
The boat was 10 or raft, long, and the size of the fish 
was guessed at and may have been exaggerated, yet 
Jordan, "Manual of the Vertebrates," says that the alli- 
gator gar, or manjuari, grows to a length of loft. I 
had seen one of nearly 8ft. hauled in a seine down near 
Baton Rouge, but to tell of this would prove that I 
knew the fish and would cut off further information; so 
I said: "That was a big gar. Are you sure it was as 
long as this boat?" 
"Yes, sah, 'deed it was, an' longah, 'bout 6ft. longah, 
an' his ole snout was broad as that (about i8in.), an' 
some w'ite men dey cotch one down on Catahoula Lake 
mo' 'an 50ft. long." 
"What was 50ft. long, the fish or the lake?" 
"De fish, sah. But I didn't see dat one, on'y hear de 
boys talk 'bout it, and dey took a boat an' a piece ob a 
man's leg out o' dat ah fish, an' dey foun' his haid an' 
some more o? de man in de net where de fish he chuck 
it." 
■'Was the man dead?" i 
"Daid! Yes, sah, he was daid fo' a fac', an' all cut 
Up. He was sho' 'nuf¥ daid." 
"What was his name?" 
"I dunno, sah, he fo'got to tell what his name was. 
I 'spects yo' is habin' fun wid me an' dat fish, but it 
was befo' my time, an' I tole yo' de story as de ole 
men tole it w'en i was a little boy. Dey is some o' 
dem gatah gabs in dis yeah lake, but I doan' see none 
much longah dan dis long-snout, an' dey chews up mo' 
fish dan de pike, an' de pike's good to eat. Now when 
de pike take hold a fish he take him end on, and ef he 
get him crossways he turn him to get him in end, but 
dese debbils takes 'em crossways and chaws on 'em an' 
mos' times cuts 'em in two an' was'es half de fish befo' 
he gits him turned; den he got to git annuder to fill 
him up." 
I appreciated my luck in falling into the hands of 
such an observing man, and when we unloaded at the 
house where I was stopping I took what bass, pike and 
crappie would make a dinner for the rather large 
family and gave the rest to Gus; and as I paid him we 
arranged to fish again two days later, and in the mean- 
time I would fish the streams with line and minnow net 
for small fishes, moUusks and crustaceans for the alcohol 
tanks. It is an old saying that a Yankee is inquisitive, 
and in the South at that time the Ohio Buckeye, the 
Indiana Hoosier, the Wisconsin Wolverine, as well as 
the Californian and the New Yorker, were Yankees as 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
well as the citizens of the New Engl3.nd States. But 
I was put through a nightly catechism, beginning with: 
"What did you get to-day?" "What are you going lo 
do with them?" and "What are they good for?" The 
first two questions were easily answered, but the third 
was a poser. To explain the relation of "little water- 
bugs" to other forms of life, and to man, was up-hill 
work to a fellow who was aware that he was looked 
upon as a harmless sort of lunatic who spent his time in 
gathering a lot of useless things, but who paid his bills 
and- was thereby entitled to spend his time as foolishly 
as he pleased. It was not so much the questions as the 
consciousness that my mission was not understood, and 
that I coitld not make it understood by the men and 
half-grown boys from whom there was no escape m the 
evening. To be looked upon as a curiosity is embar- 
rassing, unless you are a fat woman, living skeleton or 
"beautifitl Circassian girl," and make a profession of it. 
A stroll along the shores of the lake with a light 
double gun was taken alone, in order to pick up any 
object of interest without having to give a lecture upon 
it; and it is well to be alone sometimes. The day was 
overcast and foggy, an ideal day for ducks, but I. was 
not expecting anything in this line, merely thinking to 
pick np a few shore birds, or "bay birds," as we call 
them in the Great South and Barnegat bays of Long 
Island and New Jersey. A walk of half a mile brought 
a couple of dxtcks in sight, and as their eyes were better 
than mine, it seemed strange that they did not move. 
A few steps, and more ducks came out of the migt, all 
ignoring my presence. Both hammers were let down, 
and as I made an excursion to the left to get behind 
the blind of the men who had the decoys out, the men 
fired six barrels, but I was too far to see the eff'ect. 
On reaching the blind there was a pile of ducks, about 
fifty, they thought, and they were shooting for the New 
Orleans market. There were many species. I only re- 
member that they said that the mallards had not got 
down from the North yet, as the weather had not been 
cold enough. 
At noon I sat down to eat my cold roast chicken, ham 
sandwiches and boiled eggs, which the good housewife 
had put lip for me in profusion, and then sat still, think- 
ing of nothing, enjoying a mere animal existence. My seat 
was a low log, near a spring, and perhaps 50ft. from a 
little stream which was on its way to the lake. It was 
a Rip Van Winkle spot that seemed to have hypnotic 
powers, and I was suddenly awakened, not by sound, 
for the leaves were too damp to rustle, but bj^ a moving 
object. Gradually it assumed the familiar form of a 
raccoon, and my fingers clutched the gun. Then came 
the thought: "Why should I kill or woimd this animal, 
which has as much right to walk this earth as I have? 
I do not need its meat nor its skin, and it does me no 
harm."_ The coon passed on, turning stones for cray- 
fish or other things, with perhaps an eye out for a frog. 
In writing of this a story of two men "frae the land o' 
cakes," who had been imbibing not wisely, but too well, 
comes to mind. One said: "Donald, let's hae anither 
drink.'' 
"Nae, Jamie; I hae enough." 
With a look of contempt Jamie said: "Hoot! mon, 
you're lettin' your judgment get the better o' ye." And 
so on this occasion I sacrificed inclination to "judg- 
ment." 
The walking along the shore was difficult; there were 
marshy places and fallen trees to go around, and none 
of that hard beach which affords the salt-water gunner 
good footing. I had quite a load of mussels, Unios, some 
sandpipers, plovers and other birds, as well as a few 
squirrels and a pintail duck which had recklessly crossed 
a point within range of my light gun, and while thinking 
of tramping back np the lake there was a sound of 
footsteps and my ears moved forward to assist in de- 
termining who might be coming. When one is alone 
there is always an intense interest in any one who ap- 
proaches, even if he knows the country is at peace and 
there is nothing to fear. I never have this feeling when 
passing "The Man in the Clock Tower" on Broadway, 
because man is so frequent there; but down on a lone 
Louisiana lake the passing of a mud turtle or the jump- 
ing of a frog has interest. Therefore I li-stened to see 
who was coming. 
There was a period of silence, as if the intruder had de- 
cided not to go up this little stream, and then the tramp 
on the damp leaves was resumed. I had enough ham. 
bread and chicken to entertain any fellow-sportsman, if 
he were hungry and would only show up. 
- On the further side of the little creek a form loomed 
up out of the fog. It looked as big as a country school- 
house, but when it came clearly within range it proved 
to be a good-sized bear, slowly going up stream after 
such small game as its cousin, the raccoon, was looking 
for. Here again I let my "judgment get the better o' 
me." I did not anger that bear with a charge of bird 
shot; and in fact there was no room for several hundred 
pounds of bear meat in my haversack. 
The big sickle-billed curlew which I picked up on 
the homestretch was turned over to the good woman of 
the house, with the duck, which she stuffed and baked, 
but I reserved the yellow-legs to be split, broiled and 
served "hot and rare" for myself. To those good people 
this seemed as barbarous as the stuffing of a wild duck 
with sage and onions did to me. Miss Melinda said: 
"That bird isn't half done; I don't see how you can 
eat it." And I merely replied: "If it was cooked more 
it would be spoiled." 
Taste is largely a thing of education and familiarity. 
A bottle of olives had been sampled by this worthy fam- 
ily and rejected. Melinda put up my daily lunches, 
which always included some olives, but when I came 
back a month later she had cleaned up the half dozen 
bottles left in my reserves and was ready for more. Jim, 
a young brother, said: "I like them yellow-legs and 
sho' birds half cooked, jus' as yo' had' em, but mam says 
they're no good; an' I'm glad yo' come back. Say, 
how long yo' gwine to stay?" Fred Mather. 
The FoEEST AND Stream is put to press each week on 
Tuesday. Correspondence intended for puhlication 
should reach us at the latest by Monday, and as much 
earlier as p. aMcahle. 
[Pes. ti, 1898. 
The Early Days of Fishculture, 
KV LlVlNGSTOJf .S'fQN& 
[Read before the AineifieRrt Fisferies iSptigrcss.] 
About a third of a century ago a strange story began 
to be spread abroad in this country, that a man in west- 
ern New York was liatching trout eggs — thousands upon 
thousands — and that he was rearing the fish and feeding, 
them in ponds, and there was literally no end to the 
number of fish that he could hatch. 
The story naturally made a decided sensation through- 
out the country; but of all the people that heard it 
very few at first believed it. The present age of almost 
daily recurring marvels had hardly begun then, and peo- 
ple were more incredulous and slower to accept apparent 
miracles than they are now. And then, again, the coun- 
try being in the throes of a civil war at the time, it fol- 
lowed that discoveries in the peaceful arts did not at- 
tract the attention they would have done in quieter 
times. But the story about the man who was hatching 
out thousands of thousands of trout steadily gained 
ground. Presently the great New York dailies took it 
up, and soon after it came to be an accepted fact that 
something wonderful was being done by- this New York 
trout hatcher. 
In the meantime the man himself, quietly working 
away in Caledonia, had succeeded in actually proving 
beyond a doubt that the hatching of trout on an immense 
scale — not as an experiment, but as a practical industry — 
was a practical thing, within the easy reach of human 
skill. 
It was the first time that this had been accomplished. 
Amateur and scientific experiments on a small scale had 
been made by various persons at various times, and 
the_ method of hatching fish artificially had been known 
for a century, but it remained for Seth Green to intro- 
duce into America the hatching of fish as a practical 
and valuable industry, and to him belongs the credit 
and the honor of opening the way to the vast practical 
work that has since been accomplished in this country 
in hatching and rearing fish, and to him eminently be- 
longs the title, justly earned, of the Father of American 
Fishculture. 
A year or two after Seth Green had inaugurated 
American fishculture at Caledonia the writer established 
the Cold Spring Trout Ponds at Charlestown, N. H., 
but, strange to say, up to this time, although Seth 
Green's operations in New York had been so fascinat- 
ing and so promising, no one in this country had taken 
up the breeding of trout, that he had been so successful 
at. 
The time, however, was now ripe for the spread of 
trout culture, and very soon after the establishment of 
the Cold Spring Trout Ponds trout breeding places 
sprang up in all directions. Raising trout suddenly 
became fashionable and popular. During the first 
two years of his trout breeding experience the writer 
received letters from almost every State in the Union, 
written by persons actually engaged in, or more or less 
interested in, trout culture. The interest in trout breed- 
ing became universal, and everything written about it 
was eagerly read by all who were interested in fish at all. 
These were in the palmy days of trout breeding in 
this country. Prices were high — ^trout eggs. brought $to 
a thousand, and young trout fry $40 a thousand. Trout 
large enough for the table brought $1 a pound at the 
ponds, and the city hotels paid 75 cents a pottnd for 
regular weekly consignments. There was a large de- 
mand for trout eggs and a fair demand for yoitng fry and 
for trout for the table. 
Trout breeding prospered, and with it all there was 
a novelty aboitt the work which then had not time to 
wear off, and the business of the trout breeder^ — for it 
had now became a legitimate business — came to be a 
pleasant, prosperous and profitable occupation. It 
would be interesting to describe more minutely the rise 
and dechne of private trout culture in the United States 
— for, alas! the decline came only too soon — but tluit 
would not come within the scope of this paper. Suffice 
it to say that the competition soon brought prices of 
eggs and fry down too low to make the business profit- 
able generally, and the market price for table trout fall- 
ing at the same time, many who engaged in the business 
fell out for want of pecimiary encouragement, while 
others who raised trout for the enjoyment of it gave it 
up because of the many risks and difiiculties which 
stood in the way of success. 
It is a fact worth recording — and one that seems very 
curious in the light of present events — that while so 
many at first went to raising trout, no one seemed to 
think that it was worth while to hatch any other kind 
of fish, and it is also a fact worth noticing that if arti- 
ficial fishcultm"e had been confined to the raising of trout, 
as it was in the first three years of its career in this 
country, the vast and beneficent work that is being done 
at the present time would have been unknown. 
If again remained for the bold and adventurous spirit 
of Seth Green, with his far-reaching vision, to enter the 
larger and more important field of hatching fish that 
had a standard commercial value. Every one knows of 
his attempts, his failures and his final success in hatching 
shad. These efforts of Green in demonstrating that other 
and more valuable fish could be hatched as easily as 
trout did indeed open up a field for fishculture, so vast 
and beneficent to mankind that the previous trout cul- 
ture work shrank into insignificance beside it. Thus it 
was that Seth Green earned a second time his claim to 
the title of Father of American Fishculture. 
All the present magnificent work of our State Fish- 
Commission and the United States Fish Commission 
owes its origin to Seth Green's shad hatchery on the 
Connecticut in 1867. 
In 1868 the writer, in connection with Mr. Joseph 
Goodfellow, erected a salmon breeding station on the 
Miramichi, in New Brunswick. This was on a large 
scale, and was the first effort at systematic, practical 
salmon breeding in America. 
As illustrating the high prices for fish eggs that pre- 
vailed then, I may mention that I received over $r,ooo 
for a good-sized water pail of salmon eggs from the 
Miramichi in 18S9. 
The Miramichi salmon breeding station would have 
been a valuable source of supply for salmon eggs, had 
