ss 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 3, 1901. 
from teeming, satisfying Klamath Lake that they might 
plant trout for future generations to enjoy in the weird 
and distant Crater Lake. This was our ambition last 
October — we could not go before the middle of October. 
The Southern Pacific said we could not accomplish the 
teat. Ambitious men had tried it in June and failed. 
The railroad company gladly did all we asked them to do 
to help us. They carried the transportation cans and 
nets which the California Fish Commission loaned us. 
They gave us letters to agents and to fish hatcheries. 
They promised to build us a monument if we would 
stock Wood's Lake — a beautiful body of water near the 
stage road, forty miles from Ashland, seemingly as easy 
of access as a Connecticut sunfisli pond. It turned out 
that a storm hindered the easy task, which we did not 
accomplish, and exceptional weather with good, straight 
push of men in earnest made the difficult task possible. 
On the sunny October days the marshes to the east 
of Pelican Bay, on Klamath Lake, alive with mallards, 
were hard to leave Crater Mountain looked cold, but 
we noticed the snow melted. There was not enough 
snow for the hunters who were going to Mt. Pitt for the 
winter supply of venison. A challenge to public-spirited 
Mr. Dennis that we would give our time if he would send 
his team started him. Bert Dennis might go with the 
tough farm team. The ranch was alive. There was no 
faith on the railroad that the parsons could win, so we 
had brought no trout fry. The trout net was delayed 
by. some expressm.an's mistake. The parsons — I mean 
the other parsons — had so many valises and black clothes 
and winter supplies were in such demand in case of a 
snow storm that we simply had to leave the Fish Com- 
mission fish can at Ashland — our team was loaded down. 
But we had voted to "take the drop of the crater," and 
our "spirits rose to the occasion." Mr. Dennis found 
a deep milk can in the'm.ilk house. A gunny sack tied 
over this would let in air and water, and hold in the 
fish. What fish'' The fish we were going to take to 
Crater Lake. We had not consulted them. It looked 
for ten hours a.=: if the scheme must fail for lack of fish 
co-operation. Soon as the vote to go was taken, a boy 
was posted on horseback for a net at the lumber camp. 
Then five boats and a dozen men and bo^^s set out to net 
twenty or thirty pounds of trout, if they pleased. 
They did not please. We dragged that net up and down 
, Dennis Creek. We roiled the water and surrounded the 
enemy. We poled and splashed, but every trout evaded 
us and the net result of two hours' fun aline was one 
chub. We let him go. Not enough seed for Crater 
Lake. Fortunately I had bought at Ashland a bolt of 
mosquito netting, stout cord, and some bar lead. I had 
made minnow nets at Lake Minnetonka; our fingers 
flew for this one. Big fish could dodge us. The huge 
spring at head of Dennis Creek was alive with little 
trout and chub. Clearing out snags and wading deep 
we filled our pail with trout of a finger length, and chubs 
enough to grow food for them in Crater Lake. 
I'll not describe the ride over Dead Indian trail. Happy 
men who take it with dog and gun and time. We hur- 
ried. Oitr milk can splashed and wet our outfit. 
But those fish had two days of kingship. We set 
the can at night, head up, in cool streams. When we 
rested the horses we aerated the waters with our hands. 
When we found snow we snowballed our proud little 
fish. -The Jarring turned soft chub belly up, but the 
plucky little trout bunched in the middle of the can as 
if they knev^ they were to be the pilgrim pioneers of 
region's famous lake. Thursday morning, Oct. 20. 1900, 
we stood on the snowy crest of the crater, ten of our 
number seeing it for the first time. Who were we? 
Rev. Cephos Clapp. of Forest Grove. Ore., to whom we 
all take off our hats as a champion fisherman; Rev. W. 
W. Scudder. of Alameda. Cal, who moves to Seattle, 
Wash., next week, who will answer courteous questions 
about desirable camping grounds, for he plays as gener- 
ously in vacation as he works his noble calling when 
duty orders. His son, Joy, rode the pony which car- 
ried our overcoats and our lunch to the top of the moun- 
tain, for we had to leave our wagon team when the snow 
got deep. Bert Dennis was teamster and strong man — 
certainly the phvsical hero of the occasion. If my yarn 
is not too long. I'll mention "my good dog Rex" later on. 
We were at the snowy summit and our trout were 
alive— about three dozen o'f theni. We saw the cold, gray 
lake, nine miles long, seven wide. For most of the way 
the sides are too precipitous to climb, and it is 2,000 
feet to the water. The lake basin is the crater of an 
extinct volcano into which the tip-top of the mountain 
seems to have fallen back. It makes an island seemingly 
of ashes. The bluff shores are steep as El Capitan in 
Yosemite. Leaping from the summit you might, from 
many points, leap into the water 2,000 feet below. The 
wind was blowing and a storm threatening. We did not 
tarry long. Happily the snow was soft and sticky. 
There was no fear of avalanche a glissade. _We pru- 
dently lashed ourselves together lest we fall into crev- 
ices and wallowing in the snow from knee to shoulder 
deep were soon at the water's edge. Bert led the proces- 
sion and carried the precious bucket. But we all piit 
our bands on it and shared the honor, for such we felt 
it to be of olanting noble fish in the grandest lake m 
Oregon.' It^is 2.000 feet deep by Dutton's survey, in 
places. Imagine yourself in a boat with such^sea-roorn 
playing a trout as large as a salmon. Don't marvel, 
boys that we sang the doxology, and in a hearty prayer 
about a minute long, asked God to prosper our little pio- 
neer fish and bless all who should follow us m happy 
excursions to come. Fellows who can fight their way to 
success and victory have a right to praise and pray. As 
we turned np the snowy hill one audacious little trout 
swam out from the cover of the rocks and seemed to 
say "Good-bv, come again, we will give good account 
of ourselves." No other sign of life was there. On two 
trips i saw no ea.gle, crane, duck, buzzard or bii-d on 
chores of Crater Lake— only a devil's darnmg needle m 
the summer of '98. Yet President David Starr Jordati and 
ethers who have studied Ihe lake say there is fish food there 
in abundance. He adds: "The only risk about their suc- 
cessful propagation is that of finding each other in so 
large a bodv of water at mating time." They will have 
to assume that risk. The parsons have set them up in 
housekeeping in generous apartments. 
Just a word for "good dog Rex." great grandson of 
Minneapolis Don, of 1873-1885. We took a big ball of 
twine to lower oyr bucket in case %he snow h?4 blocked? a 
us. It rolled down the mountain and. made a big snow 
ball. He did not see it. But when he was sent for it 
he took the trail, struck the snow ball apart and brought 
us the twine. My alpenstock, probably the gunwales of 
the boat Maj. Dutton had dragged to the lake, glissaded 
down the trail. Rex brought it and all the boys praised 
him until his old master's heart grew soft and proud. 
We do not claim we have "stocked Crater Lake." We 
honestly and laboriously planted it. If you essay the 
magnificent trout of Klamath Lake you can, if you will, in 
summer, when fish bite, plant mature fish in Crater 
Lake. Doubtless you can catch them in Anna Cafion. 
I only hint at the glories of Southern Oregon. May you 
live to see them! EpwiN Sidney Williams. 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
The Famods Ao Sable River. 
Chicago, 111.. July 20. — "See the Au Sable and die" 
might be a good enough proverb for any Western' Amer- 
ican angler, were there not possible. the better alternative 
of seeing the Au Sable and living. Mr. John D. Mc- 
Leod and myself saw the Au Sable this week, and we 
lived, a great deal better than anybody could who was 
left behind in Chicago or Milwaukee. True, we got a 
part of the prevailing hot wave, yet on Thursday night 
there came an agreeable cool wave all down the Au 
Sable, and on Friday morning there was a covering of 
frost on top of our tent, so thick that one could write 
his name in the cool rime. When I told this to my swel- 
tering friends here in Chicago to-day, they thought it 
was only part of the fish story. 
Mr. McLeod and I arrived at Grayling, Mich., at 4 in 
the afternoon, and were much disappointed to find that 
our friend, Mr. George L. Alexander, could not accom- 
pany us. Mr. Alexander, however, had, with his cus- 
tomary kindness, arranged everything for us in advance. 
We were told that thirty miles down the river there was 
a camp waiting for us, in charge of Reuben Babbitt, the 
best guide and best camp man on the whole Au Sable 
River. Moreover, here was Ernest Babbitt, nephew of 
Reuben, and Leon Babbitt, son of Reuben, all members 
of the famous Au Sable Babbitt family, guides for gen- 
erations, and now waiting to give us a touch of real life 
on the famous river. It is hardly necessary to state that 
the Babbitt family was on the Au Sable River when the 
latter was first discovered. It was the grandfather Bab- 
bitt — that is to say, the grandfather of Reuben Babbitt — 
who was the first member of the family to guide anglers 
on that stream in the days when no one knew what the 
grayling was, and where certainly no one could forsee 
the extinction of that species. 
Our young men, Ernest and Leon, were waiting for us, 
each with a typical Sable boat, a long, narrow, flat- 
bottomed craft, which has been evolved especially for the 
exigencies of this river traA^el. This boat is about 20 feet 
long, and I should think less than 30 inches beam, pointed 
at both ends. It is a most useful boat, readily amenable 
to the paddle in going down stream or the setting pole 
in going up. In the forward end of the boat there is built 
a live box or well in which one's fish are kept. On either 
side of this live box there is a little side pocket with a 
hinge cover, in which pocket one keeps his fly-books, 
leaders and other odds and ends. The top of the_ live 
box is the anglei^s seat, and a legless chair is provided, 
equipped with cushion, for the ease and comfort of 
the fisherman. 
This brings one naturally to a review of the conditions 
of sport on this much patronized stream. It is to be 
seen at once that the ways of wealth and luxury and 
comfort have prevailed here. The typical Au Sable 
River camp is a great affair, in which one can be quite 
as comfortable as he is at home. Thus I found that Mr. 
Alexander had sent before us his own private tent, a 
canvas house nearly 20 feet square, provided with a 
3-foot sod cloth and floor cloth, which buckles around 
the edges of the tent inside, and an enormous awning 
which projects so as to afford an air chamber above and 
a porch in front. The flaps of this tent were made 
double upon one side, this double flap concealing a row 
of hooks. The edge of the other half of the tent is pro- 
vided with a row of eyes. You get inside of the tent, 
which is already mosquito proof as to the floor, by virtue 
of the aforesaid sod cloth. You engage the hooks of the 
side flaps inside the double covers of the opposite flap, 
and there you are, in a house absolutely mosquito proof, 
so tall that an 8-foot man could not touch the ceiling, 
with room enough for a dozen men, cool by reason of its 
spaciousness and its big overhead fly, and insect proof to 
a greater extent than is possible in a house provided 
with screens at door and windows. 
Besides this big house which Mr. Alexander had sent, 
Reuben Babbitt brought down just a few tents of his 
own; one mammoth fly or awning, which he stretched to 
use as a dining room; one to by 12 wall tent for himself 
and the other men; one 10 by 10 cook tent in which to 
keep the provisions, etc. It was all very magnificent. 
There were five of us in our party, and we had four tents, 
total extent pretty near a quarter of a mile, and total ac- 
commodations about enough for forty men. We had a 
big open camping place on one of the high bluffs known 
as Young's Camp. There had been others before us, 
but we were alone at the time. It was magnificent here 
again. Two well charred upright crotches held a cross 
beam above two other big lo.gs, which had evidently 
served as side logs for camp-fires. From the support 
hung a series of pot hooks, which Rube extracted from 
his mess kit, and he soon had stewing, simmering and 
sizzling enough cooking utensils to run a ranch round- 
up. As to the cookery, both Mr. McLeod and m3^self, 
who think we ought to know, agree that Rube Babbitt 
is the best camp cook that ever stepped in leather, and 
this bars no one. 
For the pure luxury of camp life, where everything 
has been thought out in advance, and every provision 
made for one's comfort, I have never seen the equal of 
camping as it is done on the Au Sable. This is the ac- 
cumulated result of all the generations of the Babbitts' 
experience, backed by that of many sportsmen. There 
are guides and guides, but if you want to be perfectly 
happy break into the Babbitt family and try the Au 
Sable. If yon want to get Rube Babbitt next May, yon 
Yfovdd better write to him now, or least not later Shan 
February, as that is the month in which he makes most 
of his summer contracts. 
From this it may be imagined that the Au Sable is 
something of an attraction. Indeed it is. I asked Mr. 
Alexander how many people annually visited this stream, 
and he replied that Avithout doubt it would foot up some- 
where between 500 and 1,000 each year, it is diificult to 
obtain exact figures, as so many leave town directly for 
points down the river, and do not stop at any local 
hotel. Thus it will be seen what trout fishing can do for 
a community — that is to say, for both a town and farm- 
ing community. If the trout fishing on the Au Sable 
should play out, there would be fifty abandoned farms 
between the town of Grayling and Connor's Bridge, 
thirty miles below. Grayling has some lumber mills, a 
proposed salt mill or so, a few other local industries — 
and the Au Sable River. It is no exaggeration to say 
that the sporting quality of this stream is what has 
proved the practical support of several scores of persons 
for many years, and what has given the town of Gray- 
ling more than a local reputation. This is the greatest 
instance of the cash value of sport which has ever come 
under my personal knowledge. The lesson of the Au 
Sable River ought to be a good one for local men in 
other sporting localities. 
The Stream. 
Now as to the stream itself. It was a bold, rapid, 
rushing little river, even as we saw it when we got off 
the railroad train, but Mr. Alexander laughed when we 
expressed admiration for it. "Wait until you get down 
the stream twenty miles," said he. "You will find the 
Au Sable twice as big, and moreover, twice as cold. The 
greatest number of streams come in below this town, 
and it is there you will find your best fish." All of which 
proved to be quite as he had said. 
It was somewhere between 5 and 6 o'clock when at 
length he got our little odds and ends together and set 
off down stream, it being Mr. Alexander's advice that 
we push on to camp, although we could not get there 
before 11 o'clock that night, even provided that all went 
well. The distance was reported to be about thirty miles, 
and I presume that the speed of our boats was some- 
where between five and six miles an hour, although the 
water itself seemed to be flowing as rapidly as that, and 
although the boys both -paddled steadily all the way down. 
The Voyage in the Night. 
It is the custom to start from Grayling in the morning 
for this river voyage. This may be perhaps a little safer 
or a little more customary, but let Mr. McLeod and 
myself advise all prospective visitors on that stream to 
make the run at night. To be sure, the water is a trifle 
cold, and in places over one's head, but the guides are 
very trustworthy and know perfectly well how to handle 
a boat; so that even on the darkest night the passage can 
be made in safety, in spite of sunken logs and overhang- 
ing "sweepers." Most of the latter are now trimmed out. 
The delights of such a voyage are not to be catalogued. 
It was a novel, an exalting experience, this night ride 
down the Sable, which we had. As the darkness came 
on the whole appearance of things changed. Now and 
again came a glimpse of the shimmer of water running 
straight on ahead and apparently losing itself in the 
impenetrable wall of blackness, there being not the least 
ray of moonlight to lighten up the scene. Then, just as 
the boat was pushing its nose into this black wall, would 
come a shift, a swirl and a change. The sea of ebony 
blackness set in all around the boat. One could not help 
wondering how the skillful paddler in the stern was 
making his way in such a mysterious haze, all the time 
borne swiftly down upon the surface of the rapid and 
somewhat ticklish stream. Yet little by little one's own 
eyes became accustomed to the gloom. He could make 
out the wall of forest on either side, could believe that 
this black cathedral of shadow, this noble dom of ebony,; 
or this corridor of sable shades might be penetrable both 
by vision and by boat. It was wonderful, mysterious, 
fascinating, this ride down the Sable, and if you have not 
taken it, do so when you can. 
Rounding one point of the river, Ernest Babbitt and 
I heard a splashing in the water and a crackling in the . 
brush. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, and of ' 
course I told him that I knew it was a deer. 
"We'll light up the headlight," said he, "and perhaps 
we will run across a deer coming down stream." This 
we did, the headlight, with its big reflector, casting a 
good light for some distance. We had run perhaps two 
or three miles down stream with the light, when all at 
once we heard a splashing in the water ahead of us. 
Both of us then lapsed into silence, for we both knew 
what it meant. Presently we drew down to the shallow 
whence the splashing came, and saw a magnificent buck' 
threading his way diagonally across the river. He stood ■ 
looking at the light curiously, but not taking any fright 
or evincing anything but extreme curiosity. His eyes, 
now shone glittering red or weirdly green in the rays of 
the light, and we could see his antlers, already grown 
but still in the velvet. It was a superb picture of wild ;, 
life. We passed within 10 or 15 feet of the buck, but for 
some reason or other he did not take alarm, even after 
we had gone by. When Mr. McLeod's boat came on 
behind us the case was otherwise. Mr, Buck seemed to , 
have gathered his wits, and saluted the new arrival with 
snorts and whistles, which continued until he had made 
his escape over an adjoining ridge. 
We found our camp at last, with Rube Babbitt in 
charge, it being then about 11:30 at night. We did not' 
attempt to ferry across the river to Young's Bluff, but' 
slept where Rube had made a temporary camp. We were 
tired that night, and did not attempt any fishing on the 
following morning, but pitched camp, and that evening 
went out to see what fun we could have with the rain-' 
bows. 
The Fish of ihe Au Sable. 
It is perhaps well known to most readers of Forest; 
AND Stream that the brook and rainbow trout have now 
quite taken the place of the grayling which formerly 
made this stream famous. The local guides and anglers 
think that the grayling would have become much scarcei 
even had the trout not been introduced, and believe tha^ 
the spring spawning of the fish made it a victim of thi? 
spring lumbering operations to a great eirtent. Th« 
