Feb. i6, 1901.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
131 
doth sin stick close between buying and selling," and the 
great mercantile world stands convicted on high authority. 
The lawyer, the weather prophet, the diplomat — these 
need only to be mendoned, you can gt:ess the rest. 
The bench — but let that pass, with the story of Betty and 
the sovereign, with the greenback and the income tax. 
And who can forget Bobby's lines? — 
"Some books are lies from end to end. 
And some great lies were never penned; 
E'en ministers, they ha'e been kenned, 
In holy rapture, 
A rousin' whid at times to vend. 
And nail 't wi' scripture." 
The newspapers — it is only necessary to read what 
Jefferson said of them. He never looked at one except 
through orange goggles : papers were all yellow to him. 
Adam's first offense in speech was a taradiddle, and 
nine-tenths of youth's first castigations since have been 
vain efforts to whip the offending Adam out of him. 
"Every liar has another for a witness," says the modern 
Greek, so only half the world need be charged with in- 
vention ; they alone are carried along by a motive, the rest 
are trailers. 
But what need to pursue ; every class and all peoples 
stand convicted except anglers, and there you are. 
The Spanish have a proverb and a good one ; one can 
but wonder where they got it, "The man who catches 
fish does not need to lie." Your angler catches fish and 
is above suspicion. 
But on the heels of even,' army is a great body of 
stragglers and suspicious characters, camp followers, who, 
taking advantage of confusion, embarrass and disgrace 
by proximity and deportment the uniforms they dare 
not wear and are not fit to touch. 
So the great army of noble anglers is constantly 
harassed and embarrassed by a following of pseudo sports 
who assume the honors and claim the prize money of 
admiration to which they are not entitled. If they had 
their deserts the population would be reduced. But since 
anybody may wear the uniform, it may take close in- 
quiry, not always desirable, to distinguish, though some- 
times a word, a sign may be enough to brand them. For- 
example. if he lies he is no angler, even if he sayS he is. 
If he is not a gentle man, unselfish, temperate, patient, 
truthful, skillful, saturated with a love for nature and 
his fellow man, he is no angler. If he is all these and 
catches fish, no matter for his coat he may not have one, 
no matter for his speech, he may not read, but j'ou may 
trust him with your life, and wish no better company for 
your day in the woods, and when 3^011 quit at night, though 
his basket outweigh yours, find that you have made the 
greater catch. 
Swift and Sterne and Johnson have each been credited 
with a stupid saying, supposed to be descriptive of fish- 
ing, to the effect that it was a string and a pole, with a 
worm at the end of one and a fool at the end of the 
other. When angling came in, all this was changed. The 
worm and the string and the pole and the fool all dis- 
appeared. Angling is now a line and a rod. with a fish 
at the end of one, and at the end of the other a man, and 
one who would not change places, with the kings of the 
earth for a minute, nor lend his rod to a brother, and the 
lying is done by the envious lookers on and imitators. 
The elegant Chesterfield said in one of his famous let- 
ters to his son, "You may always obsers'e that the greatest 
fools are always the greatest liars; for my part, I judge 
of every man's truth by his degree of understanding." 
Is anything more needed to establish the veracity of the 
angler? I trow not. Henry Talbott. 
ANGLING NOTES. 
Red Trotit of Canada. 
My friend. Commodore W. H. Parker, managing direc- 
tor of the Laurentian Club, writes me from Lac la Peche, 
Province of Quebec, a personal letter, which I think he 
I will not object to my quoting from, as it will be of general 
interest particularly at this time, when an effort is being 
made to identify a red trout found in Canadian waters : 
"It goes without sajong that the first thing I do on 
receiving a copy of Forest and Stream is to look for an 
article from your pen. 
"Re red trout. Last January I called at Mr. Simpson's 
while passing on a hunting expedition after caribou, and 
while there he remarked that he had a species of fish 
which he would like to have me identify. When I was 
shown the fish I was surprised, especially as he told me 
it was from one of the lakes of La Chaine des Trois Lacs, 
south of Saccocommie, the biggest lake on the Riviere du 
Loup, now leased by the St. Bernard Club, of which U. S. 
Consul W". H. Henrjr. of Quebec, is president. 
"There was a time when my father owned in fee simple 
and as lessee from the Government for lumbering pur- 
poses nearly all waters drained by the Riviere du Loup. 
As the specimen shown for identification was from a lake 
I had fished many a time when a boy and had caught 
nothing but speckled trout, and those of small size, I was 
very much surprised a:nd puzzled, too, and thought friend 
Simpson was trying to play a joke on me and had planted 
these fish (saibling I called them) from his own hatchery, 
which was not far distant. I send you a specimen, at 
least the skin of one, of the fish given to me by Mr. 
Simpson. When I received the fish, in a frozen state, the 
belly was very red, but after exposure the deep coloring 
disappeared. I used common wood varnish, hoping to 
preser\'e the color, and used the same varnish on speckled 
trout, and the colors remained fast. You will notice that 
the specirnen I send has a decidedly forked tail and in 
shape more like the lesser lake trout. 
"I have been told by one of our foremen of old lumber- 
ing days that there is a lake on the Spaulding Brook 
(Ruesseau de Spaulding), the east fork of the East 
Branch of the Riviere du Loup, containing a species of 
trout very red, unlike anything else in any of the 300 
lakes of Riviere du Loup. 
"This last fall, while on a hunting expedition north 
of the Mattawin River. I came to a small lake, say in size 
about a quarter of a mile in diameter, which many 5'ears 
ago had been flowed by beaver ; the water had killed 
the vegetation surrounding the lake, leaving a sandy 
beach, sp timt being fre^ frqin pverhauging vegetatjop. 
objects could be freely seen from the shore. As moose 
tracks were plentiful about the lake, I had sent one of my 
guides to hunt for a piece of birch bark from which to 
make a cornet for calling, and while waiting for his re- 
turn I heard a splash in the water near by. Upon in- 
vestigating I found the cause. It was made by a trout on 
a spawning bed in very shallow water. Whether it was 
owing to the clear white sand and clear water reflecting 
the colors of the fish, it seemed to me they were the red- 
dest trout I have ever seen — and I have seen many a 
spawning ground in the lakes of the Laurentides. Think- 
ing this a good opportunity to secure a new species 
(though I could see that they were speckled, but possibly 
a new variety), I luckily had a hook and line, but no 
flies. You know yourself what a fellow will do in an 
emergency when fish are in sight, and I improvised a 
fly our of a corner of a red handkerchief I had. While 
doing this I sent the men to get bark to make a caseau 
to hold the spawn I expected to take. 
"The fish had almost finished spawning, but I succeeded 
in securing enough eggs to experiment with, and brought 
them home and planted them in a brook, and am awaiting 
results. The fish, both males and females, had very red 
bellies; whether the deep coloring will remain after 
the spawning season is over, deponent knoweth not. 
"I know this from observation, that in some lakes 
speckled trout are highly colored, and in others the color- 
ing is very light, and in most cases this is accounted for 
by the color of the water, but not always*. In about a 
month I expect to get some specimens of the fish, and if 
they are as red as when I saw them I will send you 
specimens." 
The fish skin has not come to hand as I write this 
note — at least I have not received it, though it is probably 
at the Forest and Stream office in New York — but from 
the mention of the forked tail I imagine it to be similar 
to the fish that Commissioner Titcomb has already sent to 
me and to Prof. Garman. 
I imagine one reason why these red trout have not been 
more generally observed is that they are a deep-water 
fish, spawning late, long after the open fishing has closed, 
and being lake spawners, have not been noticed on the 
shoals in the lakes by other than lumbermen and trappers, 
who have simply called them trout without caring specially 
whether they were red or pink, square tails or forked tails. 
Commodore Parker says different water will account 
for difference in color of trout, but not alwaj's. I have 
about concluded that we know little about the cause of 
the varying color in breeding trout. Only this faU I have 
been struck with the difference in the coloring of breed- 
ing males in the same pond, one individual being highly 
colored and others shading down to a pink blush, and all 
fed on the same food and confined in a small pond at a 
breeding station. There is nothing uniform about them 
so far as coloring is concerned. There will be light trout 
and trout almost black, the vermiculation pronounced and 
the vermiculation obscured, and so on to the end of the 
chapter of colors in breeding fish. I am now having an 
experiment in feeding tried to determine if possible one 
matter, but it must be continued for months to settle the 
matter even if it is settled then. A. N. Cheney. 
iThe Log of a Bicycle Fishing 
Trip— IV. 
Through the Mountains of Virpinia and West Vifginiai 
Edited from the Diary of Mr. George N. Be all 
by the Commodore, F. R. Wefab. 
r (Concluded from ^age 111.) 
The next day was Sunday, but I packed up, ready for a 
start, but the patter of rain on the shingled porch roof in- 
dicated a rainy morning, so I wisely made up my mind to 
stop where I was for the present. All of the family soon 
gathered on the porch — two girls and four boys, besides 
the heads of the house. These latter found ample occu- 
pation in trying to keep the youngest hope and pride of 
the house from drowning himself in a puddle of water 
close to the doorstep, and his little Sunday outfit was 
soon ready for the wash. After dinner the clouds broke 
away, and as there was promise of a clear afternoon, I 
said good-bj', and. crossing the long foot bridge over the 
river, with my machine under my arm, I was soon spin- 
ning away down the road again. I was a little too brash 
with my speed, for on nearing the little village of Brandy- 
wine my machine took a gigantic slide on the greas}^ 
surface of the road and came within an ace of spilling me 
into the river, to the great amusement of a crowd of 
3'oung rustics out for a Sunday afternoon constitutional. 
Mailing a letter at the store and postoffi.ce in the village, 
I continued on my way. 
The promise of fair weather proved delusive, for mut- 
tered thunder across the mountains warned me of ap- 
proaching rain, and I was fortunate in finding shelter as 
the first big drops began to fall. After the shower I 
again pushed on, but the mud was thick, and I spent 
more time cleaning out my clogged gearings than 
I did in advancing, and I had a generally sticky time of 
it. The thunder continued to groumble around among 
the mountain gorges, and I began to feel blue and lone- 
som.e as I walked beside my mud-clogged wheel, while 
vivid flashes of lightning to right and left of me made a 
house under the hill at a turn of the road a welcome sight. 
I ran up against quite a little crowd of Sunday visitors 
here, and was kept quite bus3'- for a while showing my 
machine and answering a host of questions, for it goes 
without saying that a bicycle is an unusual sight in these 
regions — indeed, many of my audience had but vaguely 
heard of the machine. 
A half mile further on I reached Miller's, on the site 
of old Fort Sibert, and put up for the night. I found a 
young man of my own age here, who has evidently been 
well informed on many subjects, and he entertained me 
well. My spirits began to rise again, and with the aid of 
a good supper and my host's entertaining qualities I felt 
quite myself once more. The house stands on a prom- 
inent point of the hill, overlooking the little valley, and 
is built on the site of the old Colonial blockhouse called 
Fort Sibert, where the early pioneers took refuge from 
the Indians. The sketch which Mr. Miller gave me was 
5};pply a t^Ji^ition, fo^ t^^? Ij^istori^al record of the in^s- 
sacre which took place here is very brief and incomplete. 
The subject was very interesting as told in the old 
man's quaint, old-fashioned waj', as he pointed out the 
half-obliterated landmarks here and there. The old man 
soon excused himseii on the plea of age and tired eyes, 
and retired for the night, and left me and the son to 
carry on the confab. We did justice to all sorts of 
sporting subjects, and found many things of kindred in- 
terest to talk about. 
On JMonday morning early I was off for "The Cor- 
ner," where the river reaches "The Notch" in the moun- 
tains and goes tumbling down through an impassable 
gorge for three or four miles. I had heard much of the 
fine fishing there, and had it on my programme to stop 
there. I got specific directions from Mr. Miller before 
starting. At the first ford the pools looked so inviting 
that I stood my machine in a fence corner and, getting 
out my rod and flies, had eight fine bass hung behind 
my saddle in less than an hour. By much walking along 
a by-road and over the river jacks, I finally reached my 
destination — the last house in the valley. I introduced 
myself and poured forth my usual tale of woe to the 
madame, whom I found down by the spring house, doing 
the usual Monday morning laundry tasks. The head of 
the house came along while negotiations were pending, 
and the matter was soon arranged on a satisfactory basis. 
In these isolated mountain regions a stranger can readily 
secure accommodations at any farm house. The people 
live in a plain and humble manner, but such as they have 
the wayfarer is welcome to. 
A hard shower made fishing impracticable until about 
3 o'clock, and when I did get on the stream I found that 
the inflow from the meadow drains had smoked the river 
until it was beyond fishing condition, at least with the 
fly. I met the whole neighborhood out with poles and 
tackle, and I was not long in discovering that in the so- 
called isolated parts of the stream is not always to be 
found the best fishing. If I had cherished any hope to 
have it all to myself, so to speak, I was soon relieved of 
the delusion; for I found that, down here at least, the 
natives take advantage of a rainy day to go a-fishing, and 
turn out, small and great, to search the stream with a 
fine-toothed comb, so to speak, I worked along in a 
desultory sort of fashion, and went far down the wild, 
picturesque gorge, climbing over the gigantic boulders 
and enjoying the wild plunge of the river down between 
the towering cliffs; and, although it was but a modest 
string of fish I carried in with me, I felt amplj' repaid 
for my afternoon's outing. 
We had breakfast bright and early next morning, and 
as the sun peeped over the shoulder of the mountain in 
iront of the house, I sallied forth for an up-stream fish, 
and faithfully whipped the river for two miles, but the 
smoky water gave but poor returns. I enjoyed the morn- 
ing, however, and reached home to a late dinner, after 
which I had a long afternoon nap and a good rest. A 
schoolmarm of uncertain age was visiting these, her rela- 
tives, and her lingual abilities were such as to fairly burn 
the gearings in my com^ersational cyclometer. Just out- 
side my window a large crack in the weatherboarding 
gave access to a roomy crevice between the logs, and 
here I discovered a colony of bats which had been domi- 
ciled here for years. As dusk gathered I counted sixty 
or more, as they swung out into the evening air in search 
of food. As I crept into bed I could hear the swish of 
the wings of the returning prowlers. One fellow missed 
the doorway to his house and phmged headlong through 
the open window and banged against the head of my bed. 
I lay quiet, and presently he made good his retreat, after 
which I thought best to close the window and open one 
on the lee side of the storm of wings and fur. 
Next morning I was directed by a narrow footpath 
across the mountain to the east, where I can reach the 
main Moorefield road north, at a saving of eight miles 
of rocW riA'er road. It was a push and climb of a solid 
mile up the steep mountain side. I don't think the 
mountain was quite perpendicular, but it certainly looked 
to me like it might be, as I dug my toes into its steep 
sides for a foothold, and frequent stops were necessar>\ 
A gentle descent on the other side soon brought me into 
the main road, and I went spinning along it until I 
reached Dasher's mill. LTpon inquiry might I leave m}' 
machine in the mill and do a little fishing, I was invited 
by the young miller to stop and stay at his home, a mile 
beyond, and have a fish with him in the evening. He 
shared his noonday lunch with me, washed down, by way 
of dessert, with an old-fashioned apple pie, baked on a cab- 
bage leaf; all of which I enjoyed hugely. A hard shower 
coming up suddenly caught us out on the river, whither 
we had repaired to initiate my new friend into the mj's- 
teries of fly casting. The shower over, he joined me on 
his wheel, and we sped away down the road to his little 
cottage, where he gathered his tackle and bait, and with 
good-natured hopes and predictions that each would ex- 
cel in his own method of fishing, we sallied down the 
read. I was informed that "old man Taylor," who owns 
the land on which we are to fish "is a mean old cuss." 
and we slipped through his corn rows to the river with 
great circumspection, lest he appear and drive us off his 
Territory. The gauntlet was safely run, however, and we 
were soon in the river, where it was not long until we 
were chilled th)-ough by a cold north wind which had 
sprung up. and which I felt quite keenly, having been in 
the water more or less all day; so we soon abandoned 
the river and hurried home to seek comfort in the capa- 
cious and cozy chimney corner. We voted our contest a 
draw, as clearly no self-respecting bass would leave his 
lair on such a day. 
I had a good supper, a clean, comfortable bed and 
sound sleep. The air was cool and all was still until 
early morning, when I was awakened by the same cheery, 
good-natured voice that had bade me good-night. 
I felt that I couldn't leave the neighborhood until I 
had had one more try at the bass. So early next morning 
we rode back up to the mill again, and I walked two 
miles -up the river and fished down. I had a very pleas- 
ant morning's sport this time, and felt well repaid for 
my perseverance. 
After another meal with my kind friend. I mounted 
r"-' machine for a continuous run to Moorefield. twenty 
miles to the north — for I am now headed homeward. I 
pas§e4 oyer ^ f opd deaj of rotjgh roa^, b«t tIiroM|b somf 
