a 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 2, 1898. 
woods with us. We have been since, but our wives 
love wild flowers and more grow at home than in the 
yew pine woods. They were like John J. Ingalls and his 
prize light: They saw what was to be seen in camp 
once, and enjoyed it, but do not care to see it again* 
That morning a heavy white frost lay on the ground. 
We therefore choose the humble and unobtrusive fish- 
ing worm for bait. We belong to .the class of those 
who fish for trout with fly, but are not so hide-bound 
but that we can use a fishing worm on a frosty morning 
in early trout fishing. We have both probably caught 
more fish with fly than several millions of men who 
would never, no, never! condescend to fish with bait 
under any circumstances, yet who are not gifted enough 
to catch a fish with a fly or anything else. They retire 
into the exclusiveness of the fly-fisher and seek to have 
the public at large consider bait-fishing a crime. Fly- 
fishing has bred a large, healthy lot of imposters, who 
shine only on the social side of camp life. 
We took our way up the stream, fishing in every likely 
place, and now and then catching a good sized trout. 
Pretty well lip the stream big bouldtrs, as large as a 
house, lie in the bed of the stream, and the water 
filters under and between them. It was quite a sensa- 
tion to stand on the top of one of these and fish down 
the perpendicular side, 20ft. below, and bring up a 
trout banging against the rocky wall as it came. 
The journey up can be described by quoting from 
Sir Walter Scott: "The very first plunge carried him 
with little assistance from a few overhanging boughs, or 
projecting roots of trees, 8ft. sheer down in the course oi 
a torrent, up which the Son of the Mist led the way. 
Huge stones over which they scrambled — thickets of 
thorn and brambles, through which they had to drag 
themselves — rocks which were to be climbed on one 
. side with much labor and pain, for the purpose of an 
equally precarious descent on the other: all these and 
many such interruptions were surmounted." 
Arrived at the forks the show places were the big pool, 
big enough for boating purposes, and no doubt among 
the fish considered as the metropolis of the fish king- 
dom; the falls, where the water plunges down about 
20ft. of sheer wall; and the deer lick. 
Try to imagine the first two, for they are bits of 
scenery worth coming hundreds of yards to see, but 
let me talk about the deer lick. 
The Commonwealth's attorney had been at the lick 
several years before, but was not able to locate the 
spot exactly, so we took the first path we came upon. 
It was so plain that we supposed we were quite near the 
lick. 
Not being quite sure whether everyone knows what a 
deer lick is, I will stop here to explain. I once knew a 
man who was in such dense ignorance. A deer lick is 
a spring the water of which holds in solution a small 
quantity of salt, and is the only provision of nature to 
supply the deer with salt, for which it is usually raven- 
ous. They come for miles and drink the waters. 
We left our rods at the stream. The deer were in- 
considerate, and their path lay for a long distance 
through laurel, and to travel it we went on hands and 
knees a great deal. We found plenty of deer hair and 
other signs. At length we came to a lick, and without 
agonizing in words over it I will simply say that if a 
thousand sheep had watered at the spring they could 
not make more sign in the way of trails. It has been 
going on for ages, and a hollow has been tramped out 
of the mountain side. 
Deer cannot be killed in this State legally for five 
years.. There is no open season. Any stranger would 
be promptly arrested who ever "pursued with intent to 
kill," in the language of the statute, which is a long way 
often from killing, but the undisciplined mountaineer 
comes here often and kills a deer and "spoils the lick" 
until the signs disappear. 
There is a blind, and all around the beech trees bear 
initials of hunters, and it is interesting to read the 
registry of hardy men who have penetrated the woods 
as far back as this lick. 
We were there in the middle of the day, when the 
deer come not, and with nothing more dangerous to 
deer than 8oz. fishing rods. Secure then in our inno- 
cence the Commonwealth's attorney, the deer's faithful 
protector, wrote our names on a stone and laid it on 
the root of a beech. In less than a month afterward we 
were approached in a confidential way by a man who 
seemed to have something in common with us. He was 
a notorious despoiler of the deer. He had seen our 
names and he claimed us as partners in crime. He had 
succeeded in spoiling the lick. In vain I explained that 
we had no guns along. He was very polite, but took 
care to let us know that .there was no green in his 
eye. 
We got to camp about dusk. We had 51 trout each 
of about the same size. The two catches could not 
have been told apart. 
I meant to tell more about the day, about a deer we 
found rotting in the stream a mile above camp, which 
had probably died from a shot wound. About the color 
of- the water, a beautiful amber, caused, I think, by 
the roots of the pine trees. And a lot of things that make 
me wish I could live all the time on Tea Creek, which 1 
know I would not enjoy. Andrew Price. 
Marlinton, W. Va. 
Gfatttlation. 
Baltimore, June 22. — Editor Forest and Stream: Your 
editorial in the Jubilee Number will command the enthu- 
siastic commendation of all sportsmen, whether of rod or 
gun. 
It seems to me that any one devoted to angling can 
follow Mr, Mather with such advantage as would give 
satisfactory results, as also Mr. Cheney, in the matter of 
reproduction of fishes, as well as killing trout with the 
fly. Your contributors, Mather and Cheney, are such 
that will educate the present generation in true sports- 
manship, and while I do not claim an alter ego, I want 
to go on record as subscribing to the tenets laid down 
by them. Good success to the Forest and Stream, and 
may your every anniversary be largely extended, and 
may your reward be such as belongs to a labor well 
done. E. S. Young. 
Other-Day Angling at Rochester* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
A casual meeting one day this week with Capt. F., 
a veteran of the war for the Union, and a native of this 
city, led to his giving me some reminiscences of lang 
syne in Rochester that make vivid the contrast, from an 
angler's point of view, between the conditions that ex- 
isted in the 50s and those that prevail at this end of the 
century. 
"I heard that you remember when Deep Hollow 
Creek was a trout stream, Captain." 
"Yes, I remember it very well, for I caught many 
a plump trout in the creek in the neighborhood of where 
Sherman street crosses the line of the creek. The 
stream then ran through a pasture skirted by a woods 
that stretched west, and it was my daily chore to drive 
the family cow from the city to pasture. On one of 
those excursions I discovered that a pool on the creek 
in the shadow of the woods was alive with trout, and 
from that time on I had trout whenever I wanted them; 
and driving the cow to pasture became more interest- 
ing than before I made the discovery. The only thing 
needed to make my happiness complete was a cow that 
would carry a bag on her back — an accomplishment 
possessed by some of the cows driven by other boys 
of that day, but one Avhich ours never showed any in- 
clination to master." 
The point of this story would not he apparent to 
one who did not know that the winding brook known as 
Deep Hollow Creek is a brook no more, but the route 
of a great trunk sewer that drains a large area of the 
city and one of the towns on the west, discharging its 
fetid stream into the Genesee River near the Lower 
Falls. The stream from earliest days was a conspicu- 
ous feature in the topography of this town. In pioneer 
days it was large enough to tempt an enterprising resi- 
dent to set up a saw mill on its banks. But history re- 
lates that "Genesee fever" prevailed to such an extent 
that the builder of the mill had to abandon it because of 
the sickness that struck down his men. When I became 
old enough to be trusted with a hook and line the trout 
in the creek had disappeared and given place to suckers 
and minnows, and until comparatively recent years it 
was the best water near the city in which to fill the min- 
now pail. There were even a few years ago enough of 
sloping banks covered with beech and maple to in- 
dicate that in its virgin state it was a very charming 
■stream, for it could very truthfully say: 
I chatter over stony ways, 
In little sharps and trebles; 
T bubble into eddying bays, 
I babble on the pebbles. 
With many a curve my banks I fret 
By many a field and fallow, 
And many a fairy foreland set 
With willow, weed and mallow. 
Some twenty years ago, more or less, intent on the 
slaughter of snipe, I was tracing a branch of the stream 
in the town of Gates, and came to a point where the 
water bubbled itp in the middle of a field, forming a 
pool several feet across. On approaching it a fine black 
duck jumped into the air, and was so near that even a 
charge of snipe shot brought him down. 
1 can imagine that the pool from which he rose must 
have been a pretty place to drop a fly say half a century 
since, for it was the visible source of the main body 
of water that came down the Deep Hollow Creek. But 
it was not in the book of fate that this particular brook 
should "go on forever-" Of late years it has gone from 
bad to worse, until it is now literally blotted from the 
face of the earth, and the places that knew it will know 
it no more forever. The valley is become a dumping 
place for ashes and city littler, and no doubt in a few 
years there will be a thousand dwelling houses stand- 
ing over the very bed of the stream that in the lifetime 
of middle-aged men held — 
Here and there a lusty trout, 
And here and there a grayling. 
Fred Mather's very interesting article on pike in a 
late Forest and Stream recalled old times on the lower 
Genesee, when pike fishing was the favorite form of 
angling with members of the fraternity in this city. Of 
course pike fishing was never to be compared to fly- 
fishing, but when it was at its best one could leave 
the center of the city on the street cars, and in fifteen 
to twenty minutes be afloat on the water where the 
many-named fish did much abound. This was before 
Rochester had a water works system, with its result- 
ing sewage, that pollutes the river from the city to 
Lake Ontario. May and June were the only months 
in which pike fishing was carried on to any extent, and 
my recollection is that the biggest and best fish were 
caught in May. 
"June pike" were little ones, of a bluish cast, and 
seldom weighed over 2lbs. The yellow pike were taken 
up to iolbs. or more. The late Albert Gallatin, or Gaily, 
Cooper was long envied of other anglers, inasmuch 
as he took a pike that tipped the scales at iolbs. 8oz. 
The fishing ground for pike was within the city lines 
and immediately north of the Lower Falls, above which 
of course the fish could not come in their migrations 
from the lake. The pool at the foot of the falls was a 
good place for pike, but one had to either go clad in 
a waterproof suit or endure a drenching from the mist. 
The fishing there had to be done from the rocks, for 
the water was so agitated that there was no comfort 
in fishing from a boat. Eels were abundant in the 
pool, and would often take the bait intended for pike; 
and the surface of the water was not infrequently broken 
by the splurge of a sturgeon. But the best ground for 
pike, the region where the finer joy of the sport was 
had, was from a point about opposite where the Glen 
House ruin stands to the foot of Buell avenue. On 
my introduction to the locality a solitary house at the 
foot of the "long hill" was the only place on the west 
side where a boat could be hired, and it was from that 
landing that nearly all the anglers pushed out when 
after pike. The practice of "the fathers" — Seth Green, 
William Billinghurst, A. G. Cooper, Dr. Hurd, and 
others less vividly recalled — was to bait with plain, every- 
day earth worms, tying a scrap of red cloth just above 
the hook. I never knew any of the veterans to vary from 
the above lure; but a succeeding generation caught more 
fish with a spoon hook, supplemented by a strip of salt 
pork. 
I have not heard that any one has tried for pike in 
the river of late years. The sewage has probably ren- 
dered the water so offensive that the fish no longer come 
up from the lake. If they do venture into such an un- 
savory region I doubt that there is any man rash 
enough to risk his health by entering the atmosphere 
that must exist where several large sewers discharge 
into the once sparkling river. 
The person who first applied the name "pike" to 
this wall-eyed inhabitant of the deep has much to 
answer for. The name should have been reserved for 
the flat-snouted family that corresponds with the Euro- 
pean pike, which I suppose had his name and features 
impressed on the minds of our angling ancestors be- 
fore Columbus set sail. The "yellow perch," wall-eye," 
"pike-perch," or what you will, is a toothsome fish and 
worthy of a distinctive name. I caught many of them, 
but never one that showed any such fighting qualities 
as the black bass. That part of the Genesee River where 
the wall-eye used to be caught was also good ground 
for the bass, but one of the latter fish weighing 2lbs. 
would afford more play with the rod than a 51b. wall- 
eye. E. Redmond. 
Rochester, N. Y., June 7. 
Fishing at Lake Manistique. 
Since September, 1882, I have been making annual 
trips to Manistique Lake, Luce county, Michigan Up- 
per Peninsula, and a more beautiful spot to spend a 
vacation could hardly be made to order. 
Leaving New York on the New York Central Rail- 
road, via Montreal and the Canadian Pacific Railroad, it 
is about thirty-six hours' ride to the Soo St. Marie, 
thence over the Marquette Soo to McMillan. Mr. S. V. 
Skinner, agent for the Canadian Pacific in New York 
city, is very glad to give any information as regards 
trains, etc. At McMillan you will find a very gentle- 
manly agent in Mr. E. E. Nichols. 
It is a ride of about fourteen miles through a most 
beautiful country from McMillan station to Mr. Hol- 
land's, where I have made my headquarters for practicallv 
sixteen years. Mr. Holland is a farmer, lumberman and 
a general agent to all mankind. Glad to see everybody, 
and only too glad to make them welcome and comfort- 
able witn anything in his power. 
Mrs. Holland is a good woman for a good man, Tn 
case of visiting Mr. Holland it is well to have some one 
in the party musically inclined as regards singing and 
playing. And, by the way, music is a great passport to 
the people in this country. 
The general amusement at Mr. Holland's is fishing and 
hunting. Plenty of the first in the spring, and all one 
could ask for in the fall, in the way of deer, ducks and 
partridge. As regards fishing: as illustrated from my 
present trip. They are wonderfully plentiful, as this is 
a wild lake, and is hardly ever visited from the outside. 
Any fisherman can imagine that the fishing must be 
good. Out of my last trip I fished only thirteen or four- 
teen clays in the twenty-five days I spent tliere, and I 
never returned with less than four, and from that to 
fifteen and eighteen bass that would average 4^1bs. 1 
caught one small-mouthed black bass weighing 6^41bs. 
with the Montreal trolling fly, which I had procured as 
something new and catchy from my friend "Conroy" 
before leaving. I used principally a 4H Skinner spoon 
on a verv light rod, and found it a very, very good bait. 
I have never had the privilege of being in this country 
during July and August, when bass are supposed to 
rise to flies, so I cannot say what the actual experience 
of fly-casting would be, 
There is also an immense quantity of wall-eyed pike, 
which the Canadian's call "dore," also pickerel and 
muskelonge in great abundance. There is at a short dis- 
tance from the Big Lake first-class trout fishing, but it 
is always my misfortune, as I am obliged to take my 
vacation in May, not to have very good success with 
the trout, for the reason the creeks have all overflowed 
their banks and the trout are meandering anywhere from 
where they should be. 
A party of two, three or four going to this country 
can camp, or they would be able to obtain board there at 
Mr. Holland's, at the head of the lake, or at Mr. Gay- 
lord Helmar's, at the foot of the lake. The latter place 
is only six miles from the station at McMillan, Mr. 
Plelmar has a general country store and a post office, 
also two or three good boats. At this place there are 
parties that come from Dayton and Springfield, Ohio, 
who camp out during the month of July. There are 
several farmers on the edge of the lake, at any of which 
you will be welcome, as they are always glad to see any 
one from below. I was blown off this season in a heavy 
wind, where I was obliged to remain all night with 
Charles Burke, and was highly entertained by Mrs. 
Burke playing on the harmonica. 
The full extent of Manistique Lake is on an average 
five miles wide and eight in length, but one is not 
obliged to remain on the big lake at all times, as just 
north of the east emd there is a large lake three and a 
half to four miles square, and on the south side of the 
lake a very short portage of about fort}'' rods, or going 
by the outlet a distance of one and a half miles to what 
is known as White Fish Lake, all of which make good 
fishing and interesting trips. 
At Mr. Holland's, if you have the luck to find Bob 
Hague, you will find him a "king" among fishermen. He 
has his own peculiar method of making his catch, but I 
can assure you it would be a sight for any of our Eastern 
fishermen to see "Bob" when he is rigged for business. 
He has a good-sized boat, with two 16ft. poles, one on 
either side, with 80 to 100ft. of trolling line. He has a 
connecting line from each of the long lines, which he 
holds in his teeth, and for fishing in that vicinity he takes 
the medal every time. His catches ordinarily amount 
to from 75 to ioolbs. in a very short time. "Bob" is 
rather a difficult man to get in with, as he prefers fishing 
alone. On one occasion I had the opportunity of going 
with him, and we had most excellent sport from early 
morning till about 11 o'clock, when we were caught in 
