868 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Nov. 9, 1901. 
— • — 
Proprietors of fishing resorts will find it profitable to advertise 
Uicm in Forest and Stream. 
An Evening on the Old Creek. 
O Cliftj' Creek! how oft the spell 
Of thy enchantment touched my heart 
In boyhood days when murmuring swell 
'Long pebbly ways where ripples start 
Led my bare feet a-wandering down. 
Again I go 'long mossy banks 
'Twixt rock and cliflf with creviced frow'n 
Where spans the bridge, and serried ranks 
Of flag soft shelter make for bass 
And chubb. 
Then on to Powell's Ford 
Where the town cows, old Pide and Lass 
Stand hunkers deep contentment stored 
In their soft eyes. 
Now on below , 
Where Boner's Branch conxes bubbling in 
Its wealth of cadence to bestow, 
Here sycamore and beech and linn, 
A verdure-crowned and vine-clad band, 
Shut in the stream on either side; 
Proud, honored sentinels they stand 
Round sylvan beauty glorified. 
The startled crane in ponderous flight. 
With slow, majestic sweep of wing, 
Swings down the narrow lane of light; 
The halcyon sits wondering. 
Then on to Mobley's Ford I go, 
Through watery beds of peppermint. 
. ■ Complaining geese, reluctant, slow. 
Make way for me, but without stint 
Expression give to their contempt 
For my bare feet. 
Here islet splits 
The ribboned stream, and half unkempt 
Like parted shepherd's flock there flits 
Into these waters ever mild — 
This lily-bosomed, quiet stresm— 
The frolic spirit of the child 
Waked by soft music from sweet dream. 
Too soon the notes of whippoorwill 
Come throbbing round the wooded bend. 
And faint, from far, and fainter still 
Sound tinkling bells as homeward wend 
Old Webber's herds. 
Now purringly 
The waters whisper— quiet are; 
The waking frogs concurringly 
Salute w-ith zest the evening star. 
Indiana. Wm. J. Beck. 
A Reminiscence of the BeaverkilL 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
The anglers who whipped the streams in the Catskills 
in the earlj' fifties can whip them now no more. Thej- 
buoyancy of youth and the vigor of middle age are gone, 
but we can at least live our lives as anglers over again 
in memory, and there is no stream in this country so full 
of pleasant memories as the Beaverkill. The most of 
those who for years frequented this noted stream have 
entered into rest, but some of us still survive to sing its 
praises, even though we cannot any longer wade its 
waters. 
Forty years ago it was the general belief that any one 
who visited this stream could fill his basket with trout, 
and it is probable that more "swelled heads" have been 
reduced to their normal size on this stream than on 
any other stream in the country by a severe personal 
experience. 
There are always some incidents in an angler's life 
which he never forgets, but unfortunately he cannot 
usually relate them without a pretty large admixture of 
the "ego," and in this case I must crave a pardon in 
advance. 
In June, 1862, I started for Murdock's, on the Besiver- 
kill, taking the Erie Railroad at Greycourt and bound for 
Callicoon, where I had arranged to be met by Murdock's 
three-seated buckboard. Just after taking my seat in the" 
car I noticed four gentlemen two or three seats in front 
of me. The eldest man of the party had his two daugh- 
ters with him, both of them charming young ladies; and 
my wife, who was taking her first trouting trip, soon 
made their acquaintance; but the four anglers showed so 
clearly their desire to ignore all brother anglers that I 
v,'as content to sit very quietly, and as I was near by I 
of course heard them criticise my basket, a little brown 
from use, and my rods because the cases were a little 
ragged from wear; and then they congratulated them- 
selves on the splendid outfits which they had just ob- 
tained from Conroy. Each had a rod claimed to be 
Mitchell's best. They overhauled their flies in the car, 
and they had apparently been furnished on the theory 
that "the bigger the fly the bigger the trout," and then 
looked admiringly on their new 15-pound baskets, with 
fancy straps, while a glance at mine, which had many a 
time held 24 pounds, and which had a broad strap, 
seemed to fill them with disgust. 
I need hardly say that during our trip in to Murdock's 
I did not say anything' which led them to think that I 
had ever caught a trout in my life. 
In due time we reached Callicoon, then a very small 
station. Murdock's team was there, but no team for the 
party of six. I introduced myself for the purpose of 
offering to take the young ladies and one of the gentle- 
men in my wagon, as I had three spare seats, which 
ft-as readily accepted, and the other three had to scurry 
around for a two-horse wagon, which they finally ob- 
tained, and then followed us it. It was dark when we 
reached th? ?nd of ow Jo\i{-n^y, ?^nd sqo^ as §upper 
was over we all turned in for the night, tired and weary. 
On the next morning we all met at breakfast, and 
notwithstanding my slight courtesy of the day before I 
was still utterly ignored; the leader of the party pro- 
posed that they would select their grounds, which re- 
sulted in the appropriation of the stream from a couple 
of miles above, to nearly as far below Murdock's — and 
he then said to me that he had not thought to consult my 
wishes, and asked me what I would do, to which I simply 
replied that I would not interfere with their choice of 
the stream. 
On their way to the stream Mr. INIurdock met them, 
and in his quiet way said, "Boys, look out that he don't 
beat the whole of you." 
"He don't know anything about trout fishing," was 
the reply. 
"Look out that he don't beat you," Avas Mr. Murdock's 
response. 
This was the first suspicion they had that they had 
met an old angler. They were in the stream a full hour 
before I was: but they soon learned that they were quite 
mistaken in their belief that the trout were so abundant 
and so anxious to be caught that they fairly tumbled 
over one another in their eftorts to take the fly. They 
fished faithfully, in order to falsify Murdock's prediction, 
but with a "zeal not born of knowledge," and when they 
came in about dusk their united catch was a little over 
12 pounds, but they exulted over what they considered 
their assured success. 
My favorite ground was further down the stream. The 
day was an ideal one for the fly; the wind blew very 
gently from the south, not hard enough to prevent cast- 
ing a good line, and the natural flies were very abundant. 
When the sun was more than an hour high my basket 
was so full that I had to forego the evening fishing, and 
I started for the house, carrying 24 poimds of trout on 
my back between four and five miles. My catch was 
about double their united catch, and the average much 
larger; and it added a little to their chagrin when I stated 
that if my basket had not been so small I would have 
brought in over 30 pounds of trout. For the first time 
the ice was broken, and during the rest of our trip these 
gentlemen were as" delightful companions as I ever- met. 
I took them one by one and taught them "the gentle art 
of angling," and had the pleasure of meeting nearly all 
of them more thatt once on the same stream. 
On this trip I had an experience not unusual in those 
days. I was fishing with one of the party less than a 
mile below Murdock's on a warm afternoon, the mercury 
being above 70 degrees, when Ave suddenly felt a change, 
and looking at the high mountains north of us we saw 
that a northeast storm-would soon sweep down the val- 
ley: and before we could reach home we were drenched 
with rain and the mercury had gone down about ,30 de- 
grees. It is different now, but forty or fifty years ago 
the northeast storm was the dread of the angler in the 
Catskills. J. S. Van Cleef. 
POUGHKEEPSIE, N. Y. 
How the Beaver Kill Got Its Name. 
PouGHKEEPSiE, N. Y., Oct. 31.. — ^I am just in receipt 
of yotir favor of yesterday in which you raise the ques- 
tion as to the proper nomenclature of the Beaver Kill; 
that is, whether it shotild consist of one word or two. 
I find in looking in the U. S. Postal Guide that this is 
written as one word; but that counts for nothing and 
rather indicates that it .should be written as two words, 
as the Post Office Department claiins. or at least has the 
credit of availing itself of, every opportunity to write our 
proper names incorrectly. Certainly we cannot look upon 
this department as authority when it issues orders that 
our neighboring city of New Burgh, whose name indi- 
cates its origin, shall hereafter be written as one word 
with the h left off. 
Some years ago the Hon. Lewis Beach was the repre- 
sentative from the district including Sullivan County, 
and he desired the department to immortalize his name 
by changing the name of the post office at Shin Creek, 
on the Beaver Kill, to Lew Beach, and it so iar com- 
plied with this request as to give this post office the 
name of Lewbeach, and any department that will do this 
will do anything. And it is a fair presumption that in 
every case where it is possible its nomenclature will be 
wrong. 
In a very old post office directory which I have all 
offices containing the word Beaver are in two syllables; 
as, for instance, BeaA^er Dam or Beaver Meadows. 
What is more interesting in this connection is the 
source from which the Beaver Kill derived its name. 
The Willewemoc. which unites Avith it at Westfield 
Fiats, is named after a tribe of Indians of that name; and 
the NeA'ersink, Avhich is a stream near by.' derived its 
name from Indian sources and should probably be called 
the Navesink, after a tribe of that name. 
I am not aAvare, hoAvever, that Ave have any information 
as to its name. I am familiar Avith the entire 
stream except a small portion at the extreme upper end, 
which no one ever visits; and have never seen any indi- 
cations of a beaver dam on the stream, and, as I under- 
stand the habits of the beaver, it never constructs a dam 
on a running stream. But there is no question that many 
years ago there Avere one or more colonies of beavers 
near the stream, from Avhich it probably derived its name. 
On the grounds of the WilleAvemoc Club. Avhich Avere 
located about three miles south of Avhat is now known as 
Weaver's, on the Beaver Kill, there Avas an old beaver 
dam which had been constructed origiiially for the pur- 
pose of flooding a marsh of about 15 acres. This dam 
Avas about 6 feet high. 30 or 40 feet long; 6 
to 9 feet wide at the base. When the club ac- 
quired these premises this dam had been partially 
broken down at one end, and in order to drain the marsh 
more fully, as it Avas a menace to our health, the opening 
in the dam Avas enlarged under my direction, and I then 
found in its foundation the trunks of trees 6 or 8 inches 
in diameter in an excellent state of preservation, Avhich 
had evidently been placed there by the beavers. 
The indications Avere that this had been a very large 
colony, and it certainly aa'Rs ngar enough to the Beaver 
Kill to giA'e it its name. 
There are no indications of beaA'cr dams at Tunis 
Lake, about one-pighth of a mile from the upper geayer 
Kill; or Balsam Lake, about one mile from the stream; 
or Thomas Lake, now called Beecher Lake, about four 
miles; or Murdock Lake, about a mile from the stream. 
But none of these lakes Avould ever have been likely to 
attract the beaver, and I have never heard that there 
have been any indications of there being a colony of 
beavers anywhere near the Beaver Kill except the one to 
Avhich I have referred. 
I am inclined to think that the existence of this colony 
of beaA'ers to Avhich I have referred, and which was evi- 
dently a very large one, Avas Avell known to those Avho 
first settled along this stream, and that this accounts for 
its name. J. S. Vak Cleef. 
Do Fishermen Lie? 
T/ie Editorial View of the Toronto Star. 
It is the custom to call the veracity of fishermen into 
question, but Ave are inclined to think that they are, after 
all, a truth-loving class, and deeply Avronged by the as- 
persions cast upon their veracity. It was probably only 
in jest that fishermen Avere first credited with being un- 
reliable in what they said about the fish they caught, or 
nearly caught. If so, we rise right here to remark in 
the interest of all fishermen that the joke has been car- 
ried too far. We make protest against it. What is there 
to Avarrant the belief that men Avho go fishing are un- 
truthful in relating their experiences? 
If a man comes in Avith a half dozen black bass of 
moderate size and tells a circumstantial story of having 
hooked a S-pounder, AA'hich after a hard fight got away, 
his Avord is doubted. But why should it be? It is harder 
to land a big fish than a small one, and quite naturally 
the big ones usually get away, either by breaking the 
tackle or by Avrithing free from the hook. The inex- 
perienced fisherman becomes very much excited Avhen 
he hooks a big . one, too excited to handle his rod as 
well as he does Avith a smaller fish, while the fish itself 
is doubly strong and trebly resourceful in its efforts to 
get away. It is not surprising that the big ones get 
away. No man's reputation for truth-telling, therefore, 
should be injured because he brings home pounders and 
tells of nearly catching others as long as his arm. 
Is it reasonable to suppose that a man would go fish- 
ing again and again if he AVere not encouraged by almost 
capturing those splendid big felloAvs that he talks about? 
The fcAv and paltry fish that he brings home do not 
leward him for his time and trouble. But he goes back 
day after day to struggle, usually in vain, Avith giant fish 
that Avould be mighty Avell worth the catching if he 
could but get them into his boat or high and dry on the 
rock. 
There are big fish. This Avill be admitted. It Avillalso 
be conceded that there are as good fish in the sea as ever 
Avere caught, Noav and then a big one is caught, bagged, 
photographed and made much of; AA'hy should avc doubt 
that still bigger ones are hooked, striven with and lost? 
• — lost simply becavise they are too huge to be handled 
by the ordinary rod and line in the hands of the ordi- 
nary person. 
We unhesitatingly declare our belief in big fish. It 
there are horses and coavs and other large animals on a 
hundred-acre farm, Avhy should any one doubt the ex- 
istence of 20 and 24 pound 'lunge in a thousand-acre 
lake? The surprising thing is that still larger fish are 
not hooked. 
When a big felloAV, after Avhipping the Avater into suds, 
gets away, the fisherman excitedly talks aloud to himself 
and the scenery, and states Avhat he believes the AVeight 
of the fish to have been. Perhaps he makes too generous 
an estimate — perhaps a fish splashing in the Avater looks 
as big as two in the bottom of the boat — yet the man' 
is not a liar because he speaks of the fish as having been 
a 4-pounder. He believes it to be true. He has no in- 
tention of deceiving. He feels in his heart that he would 
not be far wrong if he spoke of it as a S-poundcr, but 
he keeps on Avhat he considers the safe side. For this, 
instead of derision and contumely, he merits public re- 
spect; for, in losing the fish, he has had trouble enough. 
Moreover, it generally is the beginner who tells of hook- 
ing the big fish. With experience comes still greater 
caution of speech, thus shoAving that the pastime of fish- 
ing, instead of causing a main to lose veracity of speech 
and exactness of judgment, really makes him more truth- ^ 
ful and exact than it found him. The experienced fish- 
erman says very little about the big fish that get away, 
for three reasons: (i) because he cannot endure the 
aspersions that Avill be cast upon his veracity, (2) be- 
cause to tell of it Avill discredit his skill Avith the rod, and 
(3) because he intends to conduct some further negotia- 
tions Avith that particular fish in the days to come. 
Considering the AA'hole matter, it appears that fisher- 
men are not only free from the vice of lying, but that 
fishing may be recommended as a cure for untruthfulness 
in those who previously haA'e not fished. 
Also the View of a Star Reader. 
I read Avith very great pleasure your interesting article 
in the Star headed "Do Fishermen Lie?" in Avhich yois 
very properly call in question the prevailing custotiA oi 
doubting the veracity of fishermen. 
I have been a fisherman in the Province of Ontario.- 
mostly in the Muskoka district, for over forty years- 
past, my first notes being dated in 1858, Avith yearly 
records ever since that time; and I have naturally been 
in the habit, on my return home, of relating to sympa- ' 
thizing friends some of my experiences; and, although 
I have the reputation generally of being a truthful man ■ 
in ordinary matters, still I have often noticed evidences , 
of incredulity in my friends Avhen I have told them of the ' 
fish I have caught, and of others much larger that I have 
lost after having nearly brought them to land. Of 
course, it^is, as you remark, these large fish that so often 
get away, and it is simply because they are large, and the 
larger they are the more apt they are to get aAvaj-; but 
that is no reason why an honest fisherman should not 
be believed when he gives a careful estimate of the size 
of the fish he has lost. 
A fcAV years ago one pleasant summer evening I sat 
on the A-eranda of a hotel at the Thousand Islands, en- 
joying a visit with a couple of friends, one of them 
from Boston and the other from Ncav York; and wc 
talked, among other things, about fishing. I told thenii 
pf a brook trout \ had ^nce caught in our Mu.§kQk,9i> 
