4 6 FOREST AND STREAM. [jr,v. u, t sg& 
Condensed Milk in Tubes for Camp. 
Boston, June 13. — Editor Forest and Stream: Experi- 
ence in the woods has convinced me that if condensed 
milk were put up in collapsible tubes, sportsmen would 
demand that that part of their supplies should be in that 
form. Condensed coffee (with milk and sugar) in the 
same way would also have a good sale. 
The demand from the army for condensed milk is 
large, but only while the soldiers are in camp. When 
they take the field they go without because a can once 
opened cannot be carried. But nearly every man would 
have a tube of milk, or coffee, in his haversack. 
Even in camp the tube has its advantages. First, there 
is no Avaste; second, flies or other insects cannot invade; 
third, the sensitive man would not be shocked by seeing 
some one wipe his spoon on his tobacconized tongue, 
then dip it into the milk can to take out what he wants 
for his coffee; fourth, after squeezing out what is wanted, 
restore the cap, and the balance is as hermetically sealed 
up as though the package had never been opened. 
I also believe that many families would keep tubes 
in the ice chest, while they will not keep cans. The 
former would be good until exhausted, no matter how in- 
frequently drawn upon; while the latter once opened 
must be used or there is more or less waste. 
I have had some correspondence with one of the 
largest manufacturers of condensed milk, and the reply 
is that, first, there is no demand for it; second, that 
the cost would be so much greater that they think it 
would not meet with a ready sale. 
Now, if those who would like to have milk or coffee 
in collapsible tubes would tell their grocers, I think the 
demand will be met. And the first condensed milk com- 
pany that meets the demand will reap the reward. 
Wm. Garrison .Reed. 
Pheasants on Long Island, 
Last week for the first time we saw the text of the law 
(chap. 409. laws of '98) which amends the game law 
relative to Mongolian ring-necked pheasants so as to 
''protect" them in Suffolk county to their death; in all 
the rest of the State they are not to be shot until the 
year 1900. It is, speaking plainly, an outrage; and we 
cannot understand how any representative from this 
county could have consented to it. In brief, it permits 
those birds to be shot in this county from Oct. 1 to Jan. 
31, both inclusive. The wrong and harm in this consist, 
not so much in an extended opportunity to kill these 
beautiful game birds before they have spread over the 
island and become plentiful, as in the virtual destruction 
of the whole scheme of restrictive legislation for land 
birds and animals, which for many years has been con- 
fined to the two months of November and December. 
This vicious pheasant law opens the fields and woods to 
pot-hunters who, under pretense of hunting pheasants, 
can and will pursue any other kind of game that they 
can find — woodcock, chicken partridge, half-grown quail, 
young rabbits and squirrels, etc., perhaps also robins, 
larks and other song birds. The month of October is 
one of active farm operations, and farmers will bitterly 
resent the intrusion on their premises or in neighboring 
woods of gunners as reckless and unscrupulous as many 
of those who come from the cities to tramp over Suf- 
folk county land. In January, if at all, deep snow may 
be expected, and there ought, not to be any pretext for 
men or boys with guns in hand to go out in nominal 
pursuit of pheasants, but actually to shoot whole bevies 
of quail if they can find them, huddled under bushes. 
This pernicious law ought to be amended at the next 
session by making the open season for pheasants Nov. 1 
to Dec. 31, inclusive— Greenport (N. Y.) Watchman. 
Our Jubilee Number. 
Asheville, N. C, June 27. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I have received your superb Jubilee Number. It is de- 
lightfully reminiscent. The familiar names of Ogden, 
Bulkley, Mather, Robinson and the rest carry me 
back to the beginning. They seem to bridge the twenty- 
five years' interval and help us to rejuvenate. Let us 
rejoice! It is an enviable record whicti the old journal 
carries. Charles Hallock. 
Our much esteemed contemporary, the Forest and 
Stream, this week celebrates its twenty-fifth birthday by 
issuing a very attractive Jubilee Number. From its birth 
to the present time the Forest and Stream has been a 
clean, able journal, espousing the cause of true American 
sportsmanship. We heartily congratulate our neighbor. 
May its shadows never grow less. — Shooting and Fish- 
ing. ' .. 
We hope to grow old gracefully; let us now add, as 
gracefully as Forest and Stream, whose Jubilee Num- 
ber, celebrating its twenty-fifth birthday, comes to us 
just as we go to press. We have long read, enjoyed, and 
admired Forest and Stream, and we congratulate it 
on its prosperity, strength, and wise influence; we can 
wish for ourselves nothing better as we pass our first 
birthday than to grow to the measure of the success and 
usefulness this splendid weekly has attained on its twen- 
ty-fifth. — Land and Water. 
Charlestown, N. H., June 27. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: My congratulations on your Jubilee Number. 
It is certainly a wonderful number, and I have not 
finished reading it yet. ' "Rosberryin' in Danvis" is in 
Mr. Robinson's best vein, and Fred Mather's "Camp-Fire 
Story" recalls the hunting on the Somers and Lieut. 
Guest Gansevort, whom I knew well in after life as an 
invalid retired captain. 
"Shiftless Jim Tracy,", from a Vermont correspon- 
dent, who is new to me, is also very good, though the 
writer is at fault in his botany. The great white lady's 
slipper is Cypripedium "spectabile," not "cantabile," for 
flowers do not usually-- sing, and is a very different flower 
from Orchis spectabile ■,' -tor the showy orchis ! 
It is an orchid, but not an orchis proper. My own let- 
ter reminds me of many more of the old contributors, 
whom I omitted, Yo and Shadow, J. B. B. and A. L. 
L.. Hermit, Iron Ramrod, Stanstead. Shoshone, Cham- 
bers and Keuka, and I should probably recall more if I 
took time for it. Enough said, with best wishes for the 
continued progress and prosperity of Forest and 
Stream. Von W. 
Hamden, Conn.— Editor Forest and Stream: There 
was one article in your Jubilee Number which all 
lovers of yachts and" of true yachting history must 
acknowledge to be worth many times over the price of 
Forest and Stream for the privilege of reading it 
alone, say nothing of being able to retain it permanently. 
I refer to the "Quarter-Century of Yachting," by W. P. 
Stephens. As an abridged, unprejudiced record of the 
true yachting history of our country, for twenty-five 
years, its value cannot be overestimated. It Avould be a 
valuable contribution to the pages of the most reliable 
encyclopedia. W. H. Avis. 
"That reminds me." 
One Thanksgiving evening some dozen or fifteen 
years ago Sam Eddy and I happened into Matt. Wol- 
ford's shooting gallery on Frankfort street. Matt was 
having a Thanksgiving Day rifle shoot. He had ar- 
ranged a box with a sliding cover, in which he put small 
chickens, leaving only the bill and a small part of 
the head for a target; he charged ten cents a shot and 
allowed twenty-five cents for the dead birds. As we were 
in good practice the result was that we would kill at 
least two out of three, or three out of four. We were 
shu - ting strictly off-hand over the counter at the regu- 
lar distance practiced at the gallery. Matt soon thought 
the pace a little hot. so he said: "You fellers got to 
go pack by the door." So we moved back a distance of 
15 or 20ft., but kept on killing chickens so often that 
Matt got tired and declared: "You fellers got to quit." 
So Sam and I quit and Matt settled by paying us about 
three dollars each. 
As a sequel : Some years later Sam and I met Capt. 
B. one evening. Capt. B. is a good rifle shot, but we 
thought we could trim him, so we adjourned to a gallery 
on Bank street, taking along a couple of gentlemen to 
referee and see the fun. We beat the captain, and on our 
way up town stopped into Matt's place. After sundry 
greetings Matt addressed himself to Mr. James Pannel, 
who had acted as referee, as follows: 
"Say Jim, I want to tell you something. Some years 
ago, when I was down on Frankfort street, one Thanks- 
giving time, I sent a man out and bought all the little 
black chickens we could get; then I took a box with a 
sliding cover and painted it black, and I painted every- 
thing around it black, and when the chickens pull down 
their heads they don't make a mark so big as the tip of 
your finger. I charged ten cents a shot, and allowed 
twenty-five cents for the dead chickens. Well, the 
Dutchmen shot all day and only killed two or three 
chickens. Then these two Yankees came in in the even- 
ing and they only shot a little while and I had to make 
'em quit, and I owed 'em about six dollars." 
This, of course, sounded very funny to Sam and me. 
as we had not noticed his little scheme of painting every- 
thing "black" for a background. 
Poor Jim, poor Sam, poor Matt, poor me. I am left. 
Felsie. 
Cleveland, Ohio 
The Fourth on Bear River. 
"Hello, Jim! Where are you going on the 4th? I 
guess that I will take the fish boat and the women 
folks and go to my ranch on Bear River for trout. 
What do you say to going with us?" 
"I am with you, Mac." 
"We will start on the third and stay till the fifth, that 
will give us one whole day with the fish." 
The two days that followed saw great preparations. 
There was the juicy yellow-leg to be procured and 
cooked, canned meats, fruit, ham, milk, bread, cakes, 
rods, lines, hooks, flies, bait, boat, gun boots and a 
thousand and one things to be looked after. 
At noon on the third we commenced to load our 
staunch Columbia River fish boat; and the amount of 
blankets, food and fishing tackle we put aboard that 
craft would have made people think we were off for at 
least a month's camp instead of for three days. At 2 
o'clock the ladies of the party put in an appearance. 
Then our captain gave the command to push off, and 
away we went before a strong northwester and with 
everything set, and a flood tide and fair wind, sped 
right merrily across the Nasel and up through the 
straits which separate Long Island from the main land. 
When we got to the cannery wharf, four miles on our 
way, we had to tie up to wait for more water, to flow 
in from the Pacific. Two of us put in the time digging 
for the luscious bivalve called by some the clam, by 
others the "rubber neck," and we succeeded in filling 
two buckets, which we placed aboard for future refer- 
ence. Then we weighed anchor and sailed on our way 
along the foot of the Bear River range. The mountains 
are covered with impenetrable forests of fir, spruce, 
cedar and hemlock, from foot to summit; and are the 
home of numerous elk, bear and deer, With' an occa- 
sional panther. But the underbrush is so thick and 
matted that except on hands and knees one may not 
penetrate it, and an elk 10ft. away would be invisible. 
We leave the straits and enter the mouth of Bear 
River, with its low, flat banks extending for miles cov- 
ered with marsh grass. In the fall it is the home and' 
feeding grounds of countless thousands of swans, geese, 
mallards, canvasbacks. gadwalls. gray ducks, sprig, 
widgeon, teal, curlew, plover, and best of all there are 
patches in it where mav be found the jack snipe. 
Into Bear River we bowl right merrily, and the river 
gradually narrows and the banks get higher until we are 
spiling up a tide-affected stream about do or soft. wide, 
and in an avenue of giant firs, spruces, hemlocks and 
1 
swamp cedar, which in places lock arms and form a 
canopy overhead. Here the breeze dies out, and we I 
have to depend on the ever faithful white ash. Pretty 
soon we come to a place where the river shallows, and 
donning rubber boots, Mac, Joe and I get out, and one 
pulling and two pushing, we at last, by following the ' 
deepest part of the river, manage to get to the port- 
age, a short half-mile from the ranch. We find a com- 
fortable house— two bedrooms and a kitchen. 
After supper us men brought out the tackle for the 
morrow's fishing. I took my six-strip from its case and 
looked it all over, put it together, whipped it a few 
times, and unjointed and returned it to its resting place. 
It weighs 7oz., and this makes the fifth season it has 1 
been my companion. Its best work was a 4lb. 9oz. rain- 
bow in forty-six minutes in Cedar River, this State, and 
in one of the swiftest of riffles on that glorious stream for 
trout. 
At 4 A. M. I am out after fish for breakfast. After a ' 
tramp of a mile up the road, which skirts as pretty a 
trout stream as a person would wish to see, I put on a j 
cast made up of alder, royal coachman and claret, and 
start to whip the stream ; but alas, I lash that poor I 
stream manfully for twenty minutes without a rise. . 
Then I conclude that it is too early in the morning for 
the fish to be feeding near the surface, and I may get 
them nearer the bottom. So I change my 6ft. .leader for 
one of 3ft.. and with a cast made up with a No. 7 hook, 
two split shot and an angle worm fly. I cautiously let my 
lure sink in a riffle above a hole and gradually drop into 
it, when it sank a little over the end of my leader, or say 
4ft., I am startled by the whir as a noble fish runs off 
about 15ft. of line and breaks water, going about a foot 
and a half in the air. Gradually, after three or four 
minutes' work, I bring my landing net under and raise out j 
of the water a beautiful scarlet-finned trout of just i30z.' 
Hastily placing some grass in the bottom of my creel ( 
and depositing my panting prize thereon, I once more 
adjust my squirming fly and the next time bring a fish 
of 7oz. to creel. Then what a bite, and how the reel 
sines and hums, and how the beauty breaks once, twice, | 
lashing the water into foam. Easy there, old fellow, you 
can't get under that root. Come up mt of that. No 
skulking, if you please. Ah ha! doubling will do you 
no good. You got some slack that time, and — you are 
gone. Well, that is hard luck. No, not yet, you are all 1 
right, my boy. Oh, this tip is all right too. Steady 
now. My! what a jump. And another one; well, you, 
are a game fish. Tired? Yes, and, worn out. Poor fel- 
low. I gently reel him in and slip the net under him 
and land 2lbs. 702. of as pretty and plump a specimen of 
the black-spotted trout as it has been my good fortune 
to take for over a year. 
My little friends, the water ousels, hop up and down, 
look sideways and twitter at me. and fly just a few feet 
ahead down the stream, apparently watching the proceed- 
ings with interest. The robins stand on the bars and 
wonder what that big thing is doing to the poor fish. 
Thus, with varying success, I go down the brook a { 
half-mile, catching eighteen all told, but no more large 1 
ones; and just at 7 o'clock I stroll into camp and spread ! 
out on the grass (amid a chorus of oh my's!) my catch, j 
With the exception of four fish they were all of the 
bright red-finned variety; with red throats and a broad I 
red stripe on each side; and it was the prettiest lot of , 
fish I believe I ever saw — not large by any means, 
whether in number or side, but the coloring was so 
vivid. We were hungry, however, and soon laid ruth- 
less hands on them, and with a pair of pocket scissors': 
carried for the occasion proceeded to dress them. 
Brothers of the angle, try scissors instead of knife when 
dressing trout. On examining their stomachs I was sur- 
prised to find caddis fly grubs, water beetles, and in two 
found freshly-caught white grubs from fotten wood, I 
but nothing with wings. "This looks bad for fly-fishing," ( 
thought I. 
"Jim, we have everything cooked but the trout; and 
you must do them, because we heard of your trout ! 
cooking last summer." 
"All right, my girl, I will give you a lesson." 
So getting two old fence posts and laying them a foot ( 
apart over a shallow hole, in a few minutes I have a 1 
fierce little fire burning between them, and two frying 
pans getting hot. Into each pan goes a piece of butter i 
the size of an egg, and into the butter go the trout, well 
dredged with cornmeal. In ten seconds I turn them with 
a cake turner; in ten seconds more turn them back ' 
again, and add more butter, if necessary, and salt and 
pepper to taste. Then I turn them again and keep turn- 
ing them till done to suit. The secret lies in putting 
your fish in a very hot pan and in very hot grease, and in , 
not letting them lie long enough in one position to 
burn. 
At 9 o'clock Mac and I started on a four-mile tramp 
up the river to fish in earnest. Going up the country ( 
road for a mile, we took to the river, fording, wading, or 
walking on gravel bars when we could, climbing through I 
or over jambs, taking to the thickest brush on earth , 
when we could not do anything else, and tramped till 
12:30 before wetting a line. I shall not say anything . 
of the elk, deer, bear, otter, mink, fisher, or coon sign 
we saw, as that would be transgressing. With a two-fly ( 
cast made up of alder and royal coachman I landed just 
exactly 70 trout of the red-fin variety, running from 8 to 
I2in. in length, not many of the 12, but plenty of the 8 
and 9. My friend Mac landed 54 of about the same 
size and kind, with one old whopper that weighed 2lbs. 
5oz., and gave him a grand fight. Of course, we caught 1 
plenty of baby trout also, which we returned to the 
water. | 
I reached camp at 6:30 P. M., and found that Mac 
had preceded me. - Then we had another of those good I 
meals and proceeded to wind up the Independence Day 
in a fitting manner. The everlasting declaration was 
effectively read by Miss S., followed by songs accom- 
panied by my banjo. Then came the fireworks, of which 
we bad provided a box, and more songs, in which we ■ 
were joined by some of the natives, several of whom 
had come in. The evening's amusement wound up with 
a dance in the kitchen, and the way some of these lads 
and lassies hoed it down on that puncheon floor was a 1 
caution. - 
In the morning came the packing up to return to civili- 
zation, and at ro A. M. it was all aboard, and we started 
on a four-mile push at the 10ft. sweeps till we once 
