June 24, 1899.] 
FORJiST AND STREAM. 
491 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST 
Camp ''Forest and Stream '* Tenth Annual. 
Newton, Iowa, June 15. — This is the season of the year 
when J. B. H. and I have been accustomed to go into 
camp together. At about this time, for the past ten 
years, we have been used to take the httle tents and the 
aluminum frying pan and the little axes and the gun bar- 
rel stove and our other dear belongings, and go into camp 
among the big oak trees which grow on the hill above our 
little lake. This year tlie little tents are still in the 
bags, and the stove has not been heated, and the axes have 
perhaps rust upon them. We hold our annual camp not 
by the side of the little lake this year, but at the bedside 
of J. B. H., here, where he is weary and has set down 
his burden for a while. They tell us that it may be some 
time before he goes upon other camps. Since I am with 
him, and since this is our camp, and since J. B. H. him- 
self is a character of much more than ordinary interest, I 
feel more like writing of him than of other men and 
things. 
Years ago, seventy and seven years ago, J. B. H. was 
born in old Virginia, where he grew up big and tall and 
strong in stature and strength far beyond the average 
man. In his prime he could lift clean off the ground the 
weight of i,50olbs. Once a man noted for his strength 
of hand wished to shake hands with J. B, H. for the pur- 
po.se of testing his grip of hand. Seeing his treacherous 
purpose, this big Virginian, the kindest soul on earth, met 
him half-way, and taught him a lesson. He gripped his 
hand so felly that the blood burst from under the nails, 
and he punished weaker men no more. Fairly a giant in 
strength, J. B. H. was a Quaker by faith, and never dis- 
posed toward war of any sort. He never struck but one 
man in his life, and that one who told him he had lied. 
It was one blow, and the man barely survived it. Since 
then J. B. H. has said he would never use his hands again 
in such a way. 
When J. B. H. was young, back in Old Virginia, he was 
powerful and fleet beyond the average youth. One winter 
day, when crossing a barren field, he started a rabbit, 
which ran away before him. There was a light snow upon 
the ground, and the young man was shod heavily, but 
he started after the rabbit, and the running being for 
some time in the open, he soon thought he could run it 
down in fair chase. So he ran and ran, and came up 
with the nimble game time and again. The rabbit doubled 
and dodged after its fashion, and J. -B. H. could not 
kill it, though it was often at his feet. The blood stood 
red in his eyes, and often it seemed he must fall, but 
J. B. H. was wont to finish a thing once begun. He 
finished this race, and at last killed the rabbit. They 
found him lying in the snow, nearly blind, his clothing 
stripped from his chest and snow heaped on his neck in 
the fight for breath. It would be better for us all had the 
rabbit never sprung in front of the Virginia youth and 
tempted him to this trial. At that very time, in the opinion 
of J. B. H., he over taxed his heart and hurt it per- 
manently. Never till its owner was past three score 
years and ten did the stout old heart complain, but now 
they say it will never be itself again. Perhaps the races 
in the Western snows after crippled turkeys did it no 
good, for never did this natural hunter ever spare himself 
^ when the chase was asked. He was known all through 
the section of the West (whither, Virginia-like, he wan- 
dered later in life) as the most tireless and swiftest 
walker, the most indefatigable hunter, and the most 
powerful ph}rsical man in all the countryside. More than 
that, and better than that, he was known as the kindest 
and sweetest soul that ever misjudged humanity. His 
enemies he could have handled, had he ever had any 
enemies, and it only fell to him, as it has to many, to 
learn that it is one's friends who are most dangerous. 
Simple, kind and credulous, he could never, even till the 
very close of his business life, learn to believe that all 
men are not gentlemen, and as such worthy of trust and 
confidence. He was content to live so that all might think 
him worthy of trust and confidence. To-day the town and 
the country round about are waiting at his bedside. They 
have worn a smooth road in front of his gate where they 
have driven up to ask how J. B. H. is getting on. Last 
night, in the room near his bedside, I saw several per- 
sons who had come to ask for a look at the sick man. 
They were members of a mission class he teaches when 
he is well. I saw that they all were poor and ill clad. 
One of them was black. They all had tears upon their 
faces. These are the guests, this year, at Camp Forest 
and Stream. They are welcome, and they are prized. 
It was early in his youth, when about thirteen years of 
age, that the father of J. B. H. gave him his first gun, a 
■ rifle, of course, for in that time and country no one cared 
much for the scatter gun. In the place where we camp 
this year, it hangs upon the wall, old, old and worn, the 
wood about the locks soft and rotted away, the set trigger 
grown very soft and risky of touch. It was a flint lock 
when J. B. H. first had it, years ago, when George Wash- 
"ington was a present memory in the Blue Ridge countrj'. 
Then the old rifle was changed to a "pill-percussion" lock, 
and then altered to the percussion cap lock. Tn his hands 
this was a splendid weapon. But few men have ever 
gained rnore skill with the rifle than did J. B. H. In that 
country it was a crime to bring in a squirrel shot back of 
the ears. The rifle was used for all sorts of game. I am 
stating the truth when I say that J. B. H. once killed 
three quail out of five, flying, in the open stubble fields of 
Virginia, with the single ball from the old rifle. I know 
that when he came into the West — the West which was 
then a real frontier country, with Indians and deer and 
turkeys and other wild creatures — he would not use a 
shotgun for a long time. He killed many and many a 
turkey flying with this squirrel rifle, and always said it 
was not difficult to do. Yet he said that for some reason he 
had never killed a prairie chicken flying with the rifle, 
though it seemed easier than to hit a quail. Later on. 
when the long wagon trains crossed the plains, J. B. H. 
was one of the caravan, and there he killed his first 
buffalo, and that too with the old squirrel rifle, though 
he admitted that for such work the ball was light. This 
same old rifle I mj'-self have often shot, and it is accurate 
to-day as ever, I presume, though I do not blame it for re- 
fusing to perform^ its best for any hands but those that 
first used it. It is heavy gun, long and with a thick 
soft iron barrel, yet heavy as it is, its weight in gold would 
never purchase it. 
J. B. H. left his old home in the Short Hills of the old 
Blue Ridge, back in Old Virginia, long, long ago, very 
early in the SOs. He was one of the first settlers in the 
new land. He saw the West grow and change and learn 
that "progress" which means so much of deterioration. 
He saw the vast prairies fenced, and saw them come into 
the hands of aliens who never loved a gun. He saw the 
enormous abundance of the wild forests and streams 
changed to dearth and destruction by the senseless greed 
of those not fit to act for themselves. He saAv the deer 
pass away, and then the wild turkeys, and at last even the 
swarms of prairie chickens, those beautiful birds which 
were so fit for that Western region, and which ought al- 
ways to have been allowed to survive. No one cared for 
prairie chickens when J. B. H. came to this part of 
the West, but later on men hunted them. J. B. H. had 
one of the first and best of tlie bird dogs, and Avhen he 
took up the use of the shotgun it was easy to his hand, 
where all guns fitted well. Two dozen quail, three dozen 
prairie chickens without a miss I myself have seen him 
do. In the old senseless way there was once a side-hunt, 
in 185 — , and on one day J, B. H. killed many dozens of 
prairie chickens. From that day to this, though that was 
scores of years ago, he has never shot more than he 
could use of any sort of game. This was long before the 
days of game laws, but J. B. H. made game laws of his 
own. The doctrine we now promulgate and call correct 
and sportsmanlike, J. B. H. discovered independently 
scores of years ago, in a region where he was laughed 
at for his scruples and told that the game could never be 
exhausted. That, I take it, was a real sportsmanship of 
his, an instinctive sportsmanship, a real gentlemanliness, 
which makes J. B. H. very well worth writing about to-day. 
It was my fortune to meet J. B. H. many years ago, and 
I learned of him most of my own notions of sport. It 
seems to me I at least had a good teacher, no matter what 
the pupil was. That was long before there was any 
Forest and Stream, or any other sportsmen's paper. It 
was years ago that J. B. H. began to read the Forest and 
Stream, and I doubt if any man ever read it more closely 
or appreciatively, though he would never commit to writ- 
ing any of his own ideas. He held that a man was en- 
titled to be a man, and have his own ideas, but need not 
suffer criticism if he did not flaunt them. How he re- 
garded the Forest and Stream (and this is why we put 
the name of the paper on our camp, even on this, our last 
camp) I may tell by a remark of his but a few days ago. 
"I do not think," said he, "that any Christian man need 
ever be ashamed to read Forest and Stream, or to be- 
lieve in it, for it teaches the doctrine of temperance and 
forbearance. I do not doubt it has done much to pre- 
serve our game." Perhaps he said this half in excuse as 
well as in conviction, his mind running back to the time 
when men were sometimes spoken of with slight for being 
lovers of the gun. 
I recall one of tlie village anecdotes which may have 
some shade of truth in it. J. B. H. was once off on a 
camping trip, and he forgot to come back home on 
Thursday in time for the weekly prayer meeting, which 
was a circumstance hitherto wholly unknovra in his his- 
tory. On the following Sunday the minister invited all 
as usual to meet at this weekly prayer meeting. "I will 
be there," said the minister, "and the Lord will be there, 
and Deacon J. B. H. will be there — unless he goes 
a-fishing." This chagrined J. B. H. sadly, so the old 
story goes. But from that time to this the pew at the 
prayer meeting has always seen his face when he was 
within reach of home and able to be on his feet. He has 
been a good man, and has more than lived up to his pro- 
fessions. This is why the people come to his bedside — 
why the poor people, white and black, come in to look 
at the gaunt, gray figure that now lies on the bed in the 
camp Forest and Stream for this year. Alas! the old 
Virginian, the Western pioneer, the fearless and cheerful 
sportsman of many trails, I fear he could not to-day run 
down the rabbit in fair flight of foot. He could not even 
climb the big hill by the little lake, nor use the rifle, or 
even the rod, with his old zest and skill. The sun comes 
up, and the sun goes down, but it is not the shadows of 
the trees which we see, however like this may to the light 
reflected from placid waters. J. B. H lies with his big 
hands — brown hands they are, even to-day — upon the 
covering, and all we can do is to talk of other days. If 
I could talk — if it were well to talk publicly in print — 
much of this, my idol and my ideal of the actual Amer- 
ican sportsman and the simple, kindly gentleman, it might 
perhaps do other persons good. But J. B. H. would not 
like that. He isn't rich now, but is proud as when he 
had good store of worldly goods. Yet he has the old 
rifle that hangs there on the wall, and he has the clear 
mind of old, and, best of all, the conscience that has been 
always clear. He told me that he was not conscious of 
having ever intentionally wronged any human being, 
though he did not tell me this to say aloud. Now his 
big brown hands, once so strong, so useful, so kind, are 
idle, and his keen blue eye is paler, and his feet, once so 
tireless, have tarried for some days. But in front of 
Camp Forest and Stream, perhaps the last Camp Forest 
and Stream, the people have worn a smooth road where 
they have driven or walked or ridden often from many 
miles away, to ask how fares it now with J. B. H., old 
citizen and beloved friend. To these J. B. H. says that 
all is well. 
If you wish to read of a sportsman and a man, read 
here. I do not know of any better, and you might have 
many worse than he to set a lesson for you, though it 
was always furthest from his way to preach to his fel- 
lows, or to set any lesson other than that of a simple, 
clean and steadfast life. Never a drop of liquor, never an 
oath, never a fear, never a reproach. There are possi- 
bilities in knighthood which I know are not outside the 
limits of a real, sportsmanship. 
Vcstefn Waters. 
The bass are beginning to bite now a little, but nothing 
very big has been doing. The fact continues that this 
has been an unseasonable sort of year so far. with any 
number of storms and any amount of high water. Up in 
Wisconsin and Michigan it is a good time for lumbermen, 
but a poor time for trout fishers, for all the streams are 
on flood. Even the muscallunge waters are affected, and 
the heavier fish do not yet seem to be rising, though a 
number of small ones are recorded now and then from the 
better known localities, I mentioned last week the little 
trip of Messrs. Von Lengerke, Nash and Lister to Hay- 
ward, Wis. They got only nineteen muscallunge, and the 
heaviest of these was but gibs. As they were coming out 
of the woods on the last day of their trip, and at about 7 
o'clock in the evening, they were surprised to see all the 
heavens, but recently nearly dark, lit up with a great 
glowing yellow light. Their guide was frightened and 
said that such a light meant no good, though he couldn't 
explain it. At the station they learned its cause. They 
had seen, at a distance of ten or a dozen miles, the lurid 
oriflanime pi the cyclone, the same storm which swept 
New Richmond, Wis., from the map and killed nearly 
200 persons. They passed through New Richmond going 
into their camp, but on getting this word they took train 
about by another road, and so missed a day's delay and 
the sight of many gruesome things. This same storm 
made torrents of all the streams of upper and western 
Wisconsin, and in more than one community set aside all 
thoughts of sport. 
The lower country, such as Indiana and Illinois, is 
showing better fishing this week than Wisconsin. The 
bass are rising well in Indiana. Mr. Geo. Murrell and his 
friend, Mr. Crosby, of this city, have gone to Bass 
Lake again after big mouths. The Kankakee is a dis- 
appointment this year, a carpful disappointment. 
The Fox Lake chain, in upper Illinois, is offering a lit- 
tle fun these days, and the regular Saturday afternoon 
train of the Wisconsin Central road is taking out many 
persons, some of whom have the air of cognoscenti, and 
some that of picnickers. Among the fishermen to leave 
this afternoon were Messrs. H. English and J. A. Wood, 
who go to McHenry, and will try the Pistakee Bay waters 
above there. Messrs. Chas. F. Hills and Robt. Miller, 
both old-time bait-casters on the Fox Lake waters, will 
be on hand this week. It is rumored that there is a little 
test of skill on hand, in which Mr. Hills is concerned, 
and U so I am glad I am not the other fellow, for Mr. 
Hills is a mighty caster, with two hands and no gla.V 
arms. E. HoacH. 
Full Creels in Canada. 
The steamship St. Olaf, which leaves to-night for 
Labrador and the north shore of the Gulf and River St. 
Lawrence takes down the bulk of the salmon fishermen 
who will fight the king of fresh-water fishes in the rivers 
that roll down to the sea, the snow water of the great 
northeast of arctic Canada. Mr. Chas. Stewart David- 
son, to whom all true sportsmen owe so great a dept of 
gratitude for his efforts on behalf of salmon preservation 
in Canada, is on his way down to his newly-leased river, 
the Marguerite. Mr. Henry Russell, of Detroit, is also 
on his way down to the coast, and has received a telegram 
from his friend, Mr. Robt. E. Plumb, of Detroit, inform- 
ing him that the latter killed his first salmon of the season 
this morning on the River Mingan. Mr. Geo. C. Jarvis 
left here last night for the Metapedia. Messrs. W. M. 
Macpherson, I. H. Stearns and Dr. F. W. Campbell, of 
Montreal, who are fishing their pools on the Restigouche, 
write that their sport has so far been greatly interfered 
with by the large number of logs in the river. Among 
other salmon fishermen who leave to-night for the north 
shore salmon rivers are F. S. Hodges, of Boston, who 
is on his way to the Natashguan ; Dr. Henry S. Van 
Dyke, of New York; Phillip Schuyler, Gray Pollock. C 
E. Chapman, M. S. Paton, H. S. Holt, Ralph Townsend 
and Mr. Peck, of Montreal. Edson Fitch and Veasey 
Boswell, of Quebec, and Mr. Toland, of Philadelphia, are 
enjoying good sport on the Moisie, and no information 
has yet been received here as to the success of the mem- 
bers of the St. Marguerite Salmon Club, now upon their 
river. 
From Lake Edward, and in fact from all the lakes along 
the line of the Quebec & Lake St. John Railway, the spring 
trout fishers bring back marvelous reports. Lake Edward 
has returned as good a score of heavy fish as it ever did. 
The members of the Triton Club who have been up to 
their preserve seem to have been exceptionally fortunate. 
They found their biggest fish in Lake Batiscan. Albert 
Hiscock, son of ex-U. S. Senator Hiscock, took one of 
S^lbs. He was accompanied by W. S. Andrews, of 
Syracuse. Judge Hiscock, of the Supreme Court, accom- 
panied Douglas E. Petit and William Nottingham, of 
Syracuse, and twelve of their fish weighed 6oJ41bs. The 
two largest were 6^ and 3^1bs. respectively. 
Another party of Syracuse, who enjoyed some rare 
good sport at Lac des Passes, had a novel experience the 
other day. Near Starvation Point, which they had so 
named last year because they were disappointed there in 
failing to connect with an elaborate lunch that had been 
ordered for them, they left their fine city raiment, jewelry 
and other baggage a week or two ago, on entering the 
woods, as well as a general supply of provisions apper- 
taining to a well-arranged base of supplies in a log camp 
which a day or two later was swept out of existence by 
a bush fire. The gentlemen who had thus to return home 
in their angling costumes were L. C. Smith, of the Smith 
Premier. Typewriter Company ; Judge Smith, of Chicago, 
and Geo. S. Rood and Geo. S. Larrabee, of Syracuse. 
The annual meeting of the St. Bernard Fishing Club 
was held at Lake Saccacoma Camp on Monday. June 5, 
General Wm. H. Henry, president, in the chair. It was 
voted to increase the membership of the club to forty, and 
the following officers were elected: General Henry, 
President; C. G. Williams, Secretary: James W. Brock, 
Treasurer; Committee on Membership, W. H. Henry, 
James W. Brock and Chas. H. Wilson. 
Mr. Gregory, president of the Triton Club, has re- 
turned home to Syracuse from a delightful visit to the 
club waters, in which he was accompanied by Judge Ken- 
nedy and Dr. Mooney. The Judge, despite his eighty 
years, and over half a century's experience of fishing and 
camping in the woods, can cross a portage and cast a fly 
with many a much younger member of the craft. 
The very best fly-fishing for ouananiche ought to be 
close at hand. The fish are making their appearance in 
the Grande Discharge, and the steamer Mistassini has 
commenced its daily trips across Lake St. John. Bv 
Thursday or Friday next the best angTing of the year 
ought to be fairly open to visitors, and the third 'and 
fourth weeks of this month and the first two or three 
weeks of July will see it at its best. 
E. T. D. Chambers. 
Quebec,' June!10. 
