390 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May i8, igoi. 
times indicate that that is the sort of field work they 
have engaged in, so I only made the retort courteous by 
saying it was perhaps as dignified to store one's mind 
with the precise weight of fishes as to crawl through the 
brush and brambles on hands and knees, risking feminine 
apparel to see an oven bird do a heel and toe walk. 
Having balanced accounts, I proceed with the fish 
department. 
With the photograph mentioned are other photographs 
of monster fish — the record tuna and its captor, the record 
black sea bass and its captor and a list of record fish of 
the Santa Catalina Island Tuna Club. These were printed 
in Forest and Stream of last week. 
The statement there given as to Aveight of fish, tackle 
used and the specific name of the fishes will answer sev- 
eral queries that I have received from anglers abroad, 
particularly in Great Britain. An angler who is not a 
member of the Tuna Club, competing for the club records 
or cups, is not of course restricted as to the kind of 
tackle he must use in fishing at Santa Catalina Island. 
Lake George. 
The fishing for lake trout in Lake George opened on 
May I, and as a returning angler told me, any kind of 
an angler who puts a baited hook in the water this year 
bill take fish, and the scores I have heard of confirm this. 
So far I have not heard of any landlocked salmon being 
taken from the lake this year, but presume I shall hear of 
them later. A. N. Cheney. 
The River Nepigon. 
Srom the Ontario Department of Fisheries Report, 
The River Nepigon, which connects Lakes Nepigon and 
Superior some sixty miles east of Port Arthur, and which 
is said to be the headwaters of the St. LaAvrence, is our 
most noted fishing river, and is admitted by those who 
have whipped its waters to be the finest trout "stream" in 
America, if not in the world. "Stream," however, conveys 
a very erroneous arid vague idea of the magnitude of the 
river, unless one were in the habit of so speaking of the 
great Niagara, for the Nepigon possesses in but a slightly 
lesser degree the "whirling and tumbling water, and the 
eddies and currents leaping and charging from side to side 
in eternal confusion" of that river. Here is the virgin 
home of the speckled trout, specimens having been taken 
weighing S, 7 and even 10 pounds; and here is the angler's 
paradise. When they are rising well, the fun is fast and 
furious, for the trout of this region are unequaled for vigor 
and activity. 
No more delightful outing cotild be imagined, desired 
or experienced than is aflEorded by a fortnight spent on the 
glorious Nepigon. The scenery alone would well repay 
a visit, not to speak of the anglirig. In its sinuous wind- 
ings it recalls the famous Saguenay, and it is a matter of 
constant wonder what splendor the next turn will reveal. 
In some places the shores are banked with foliage to the 
water's edge, while in others bold bluffs rear themselves 
majestically to dizzy heights, and many islands add charm 
to the view. Immediately one begins the ascent, he feels 
that he has been transported to another world. Dull care 
is left behind, the anxieties of life cease to oppress, the 
very atmosphere seems to be intoxicating, and he gladly 
yields to the fascination of his surroundings. After leav- 
ing Lake Helen and passing the little Indian village at the 
mouth of the river, the prospect is unbroken by settlement 
or habitation, and is one delightful expanse of nature's 
most exquisite handiwork. Six miles more, and the first 
camping place — Camp Alexander — is reached, and the 
initial portage has to be made. Here tents are pitched 
and preparations begun for spending the night. Some of 
the guides repair to the forest, and in a few moments re- 
turn heavily laden with large bundles of fragrant spruce 
boughs, which they adeptly convert into restful couches. 
Others have meantime been preparing the evening meal ; 
the call to "wee-sin" is a welcome sound, and soon the 
camp is lulled to rest by the never ceasing song of the 
river. 
No reliable fishing is to be obtained below Camp Alex- 
ander, though the impatient angler has occasionally been 
rewarded with a rise where a fly has been cast in the 
eddies along the way. The river falls in its course of 
twenty miles between Lake Nepigon and Camp Alexan- 
der some 300 feet, so that for this distance falls and 
rapids follow in' quick succession, and good fishing is to 
be had almost anywhere between these points. The guides 
are either Indians or half-breeds, and, as a rule, are most 
attentive and trustworthj'. To be properly equipped, two 
guides are required for each canoe, unless one is himself 
an adept canoe man and has a fondness for hard work, 
for it requires a strong arm, a skillful hand, an unerring 
eye and an active brain to safely pilot a craft through 
these turbulent waters into the coveted haunts. Indeed, as 
the struggle against the rushing waters becomes fiercer, the 
muscles and veins of the swarthy guides stand out like 
cables. The guides are anxious that the tourist should 
have good fishing, and the rivalry is keen as to which 
boat shall bring in the largest trout; and when a fish is 
struck their exclamations of delight are second only to 
the uproar created by the swift running waters. In places 
where the current is too strong for paddling, and not 
angry enough to necissitate a portage, the guides pole the 
canoe along; and, as inch by inch headway is made, it 
seems a battle of the weak against the strong, wonder 
prevails as to which will ultimately triumph, and specu- 
lation arises as to what consequence would follow the 
snapping of the trusted spruce or the capsizing of the 
canoe. Occasionally such a contingency arises as the 
snapping of a pole, but the skillful bowman has never yet 
proved unequal to the emergency. 
Near the head of the river is Virgin Falls — a miniature 
Niagara. At the foot of the falls may at any time be seen, 
disporting in the foam, hundreds of whitefish and speckled 
trout; and the former takes the fly as to the "manner 
born." A few miles below the falls is Lake Nspigon it- 
self, a most beautiful sheet of water, measuring some 
seventy miles long by fifty wide, with a coast line of 
about 600 miles. The lake is thickly studded with islands 
— it is estimated some one thousand in all. The descent of 
the river is not the least enjoyable part of the trip, and is, 
of course, accomplished in a much shorter time, as most 
of the rapids are run in the downward journey. Fre- 
quently ^ csnof § q| ffvecal ^arti^ may be 8e«i descend- 
ing a rapid in quick succession — a most thrilling sight. 
The undersigned would most strongly urge the de- 
sirability of reserving a strip of land on each side of the 
river, in addition to the one chain already reserved, that 
the scenery may be properly protected and preserved for 
all time in its pristine beauty. 
Nepigon Troat. 
An experiment which I should like to see tried, and the 
result of which I would watch with great interest, would 
be the fertilizing of the eggs of the brook trout in some 
of the preserves with the milt from the male of the 
Nepigon. Milt can be retained for days in hermetically 
sealed jars, and has beeri sent one thousand miles or 
more by mail, and on its arrival used to impregnate eggs 
that afterward yielded over 90 per cent, of fry. If any 
of our trout culturists would care to make the experi- 
ment, the Department will endeavor to have a supply of 
milt obtained by its officers at the Nepigon. The milt 
must not be diluted with water, and the eggs should be 
impregnated within- six days from the time it is taken. 
The result, it is believed, would be a hardy and vigorous 
offspring. S." T. Bastado. 
Where the Trout Went, 
"Foller the course of the brook till you come to the' 
swamp, then turn to the left round the woods an' you'll 
find the pond on t'other side," said the old farmer, at 
whose house I was staying through August of a recent 
year. 
After walking about a mUe we; came to w:hat the boy 
called "the swamp," but there was nO water visible. 
"It's mostly overflowed in the spring," said he, "but 
I s'pose it dries up in sutaraer." 
" 'Tis very hot, my boy^ "Why should we go around in 
the sun when it is shady and cool in the woods, and much 
nearer, too?" - ' 
"Perhaps we couldn't find the way," replied Tom, mind- 
ful of his father's instructions. 
I decided to ■go through the woods, so we pressed on 
through the belt of bushes— alder, gray birch and willow 
— which appear to bound the inner edge of "the swamp," 
entering beyond them a more open area of trees. These 
were of several kinds, like the usual New England 
forests — white and yellow birch, white maple, beech, but 
chiefly hemlock — of which there were quite a number of 
large size. 
Sauntering along, we caught glimpses of birds that 
Avarbled and chirped among the foliage, and of a few 
crows that flew cawing over the leafy tree tops, while 
several squirrels defiantly chattered at us, as they sat 
peaked up on a low branch or scrambled over the rough 
bark. • . . 
A sharp' cry of affright from Tom startled me. When 
I looked, he lay struggling on the ground. Running to 
him, I saw' tliat one of his legs had disappeared, and 
taking my stand on a big hemlock root, I seized him un- 
der the arms and drew him up. My thought was that he 
had stepped heedlessly into the hole of a fox or a skunk 
and that some animal in there — a fox, a raccoon, or, per- 
haps, a woodchuck — had set its teeth into his foot, shoe 
or trousers, and was holding back, or that, in his fall, 
Tom's leg had been broken or thrown out of joint 
"Is your leg hurt?" I asked, as I lifted him to his 
feet. 
"No; but it's awful wet and cold." 
Then I saw that one trousers leg was dripping wet. 
"I didn't see zxiy hole at all before," said Tom, staring 
down into a small visible spot of water. "I guess it's 
what folks call a 'honey pot,' but they are gener'Iy muddy 
and this isn^t." 
"There's a little spring down there, I suppose," was my 
explanation. "You should look before you step." 
Just then we heard a swishing in the branches of a 
beech beside a big hemlock on a knoll a few rods away, 
and caught a glimpse of a patch of gray fur, which indi- 
cated a gray squirrel or a coon. I started quickly in that 
direction, but had taken only a few steps when one of- my 
feet alighted in a slightly depressed place. It didn't stop 
at the surface, neither did the other foot, but both in- 
stantly went through into what seemed for a moment 
empty space, but which I perceived a moment later to 
be a brimming pool of cold water. Then I saw that the 
surface of the ground near me was sinking and water 
rising above it. 
My fishing rod was still in its stout canvas bag, and as 
I dropped the rod found a resting place on some stiff roots 
at either end, and leaning over this I was held from sink- 
ing deeper, except as the ground sank with me. 
When Tom observed my mishap he laughed, doubtless 
having in mind my slur on his personal prudence. How- 
ever, he came skipping along on the high spots and thrust 
the stout butt of his alder fishing pole under my other 
arm, for having been in a similar predicament himself, he 
knew what I needed. He wasn't tall and strong enough to 
lift me much, yet thus supported I presently drew my- 
self up and sprang to a secure standing place. 
The locality we now knew had at least two pools, and 
the last one was not small, either. The animals in the 
trees were quite forgotten. The weather was so warm 
that the wetness of my garments did not make me feel 
so very uncomfortable, even in the dense shade, but the 
idea^ — which had come so near realization — of being im- 
mersed in a pool imderground had given my nerves quite 
a stir. 
Borrowing Tom's pole, I punched with it in another 
low place some 15 or 20 feet away. It went easily 
through about 6 inches of moist earth, mostly matted 
leaves near the top, and below dark soil that had been 
leaves, and now bound together by tiny roots of plants, 
then instantly of its own weight the pole slipped down its 
whole length, nearly 13 feet. 
My resulting feeling was not a pleasant one, and the 
old farmer's instructions to go round the swamp recurred 
to me. 
I tried several other places all about, some of them 
50 yards from my slump, with similar results. The nearer 
were the trees the deeper was the soil, I found, but I 
could work the pole through into water anywhere else 
that I tried. 
Suppose I should come to a large area of low level in 
ply course, I 9puld avoid going quite through by only 
going far around. The feeling this reflection induced was 
not one of serenity. 
Another shout from Tom and I was, of course, startled, 
but I saw that he was on his feet and bending over, ex- 
citedly, pulling up a line, while calling out to me, "I've 
got something ! I've got something I" 
"VvW it out!" I shouted back. 
"It's so lively and strong that I can't get it in sight," 
replied Tom, gripping hard the slippery line. 
He had dropped his hook into the hole I had made, and 
it had been taken almost instantly. In a few moments 
after I reached him he landed a handsome spotted trout 
over a foot long. Doubtless my heavy and hurried foot- 
sl-eps shook the ground and alarmed the trout, for Tom 
didn't get another nibble until many minutes after I went 
away, but he ultimately caught two more there almost as 
large as the first. 
After having seen a genuine trout pulled out of a hole 
in the ground, I looked about and soon found a natural 
opening about the size of the broad brim of my Panama 
hat where I could see the water, which appeared to have 
a slight movement. I could not find a good support 
near it, and therefore put three sections of my rod to- 
gether, baiting the hook with the whole of a small angle- 
worm. Before the hook had time to sink 2 feet in the 
water I felt the characteristic bite of a large trout. After 
a lively contest, lasting several minutes, I pulled out a 
speckled beauty, which weighed 3 pounds. 
Probably a great number might have been caught, but 
half a dozen — only two of which weighed less than a 
pound each — seemed an ample quantity for one day. 
The existence of this underground lake is accounted for 
in this way: A large area here had once been an open 
pond additional to the one at present visible. Probably 
there were within it several slightly alkaline springs, which 
tended to the formation of a mossy scum, and whose flow 
also aided in keeping the water courses underground open 
in dry times, through which the waters of the open ground 
found passage to the brook, up whose course we had 
mainly followed. The mossy scum caught the falling dust 
and the leaves blown over the pond by the autumn winds, 
and the leaves became wet and matted upon the moss, 
when that in its turn overgrew these. The process went 
on year after year, and seeds blown from the shores or 
dropped by flying birds, germinated in this soft soil, grew 
up as plants and bushes, caught more leaves and dust, un- 
til at last trees grew all over the surface where had for- 
merly been only water. Year by year these bushes and 
trees grew larger and heavier, and small areas which their 
roots had penetrated were pressed lower into the water, 
and the scum and dirt stuck about their roots and more 
leaves gathered above them. There were boulders, small 
and large, in the pond too, upon and about which islands 
formed, and, finally, the water was all hidden and over it 
grew a forest of trees, large and small, according to the 
depth of soil their roots found. 
Tom and I failed to reach the pond for which we had 
started, but we carried home 10 pounds of prime trout, 
caught in holes in the ground under the hemlocks, and we 
had solved the mystery, of where the trout went in hot 
weather, when they could not be found in the pond. 
Some of the Qoeet Discoveries Made fay Those Vho Ate 
Looking for Game or Fish. 
60 
A press dispatch from Caribou, Me., April 30, 1901, re- 
ports: "Six years ago Aaron H. Leonard went into the 
woods from his home in Washburn on a hunting expedi- 
tion and never returned. Last week gunners came across 
the skeleton of a man in the woods but a short distance 
outside of Washburn village, which is undoubtedly that of 
Leonard. A rifle and other hunting utensils serve to 
identify the remains, but there is no indication of foul 
play, and it is believed that Leonard lost his way an4 
died of starvation." 
6J 
And here is the story of a fisherman whose fishing was 
the means of restoring a long lost daughter. In the sum- 
mer of 1898 Robert Damren, of Oakland, Me., found his 
daughter, Alice Maude, who had been taken from his 
home by a woman of Norridgewock during his absence 
and the illness of his wife in 1876. All efforts to find the 
girl failed. Her discovery was due to the chance remark 
of a companion of Damren on a" fishing trip, and the 
daughter was found in Portland, where she was known as 
Alice Maude Wormwell, the last name being that of the 
second husband of the woman who took the girl away. 
62 
A Greek fisherman fishing in the little Bay of Liva- 
dostowo (a village in the innermost northeast comer of 
the Gulf of Corinth, close to where the ancient Creusis is 
supposed to have stood) has brought to light the frag- 
ments of a bronze figure a little over half life size. From 
an inscription on the basis it appears that the statue repre- 
sented Poseidon. The bearded head is the portion best 
preserved, and it is reported to be closely analogous to 
the bearded bronze head found in the Acropolis ; if this be 
correct it belongs to the sixth century B. C. Unfortu- 
nately, the rest of the statue — ^i. e., the nude standing 
body of the god — is so fragmentary and so much corroded 
that it is doubtful if even the most careful cleaning and 
piecing can make much of it. 
Sidney D. Smith, a civil engineer and surveyor of 
Bellmore, L. I., nearly lost his life Sunday while on his 
way home from a duck-shooting expedition. His boat 
was filled by the waves that were raised by the high wind 
and he was forced to jump overboard. He held on to 
his craft and after a desperate struggle managed to push 
it, with the aid of the wind and tide, several miles to 
Whale Neck Point, near Merrick. 
On the way he had to throw overboard his decoy 
ducks, a dozen or more sheldrake that he had shot, 
and everything else in the boat. While still in the water 
and holding on to' the boat he managed to divest himself 
of his heavier clothing. After landing he had to walk 
two miles against a cold wind in ordgr X<a^ rejiph liis ligmc- 
'—New Yor]^ "VVorid, April x6. 
