Aug. 2, 1902.] 
FOREST AND ' STREAM. 
87 
section are similarly affected, but this does not harm the 
appearance of the heads at all. 
Early in the morning we were off for the spring. Dur- 
. ing the noon rest the horses and mules preferred the scant 
shade of the palmillas to the grass, as it was very warm. 
We wore very little clothing, but never suffered from 
cold. Duck shirt and pants, socks, shoes and leggins. with 
an Upthegrove coat tied to the saddle, was my rig. Boyd's 
was much the same, except socks. He sometimes fol- 
lowed the example of the natives and left them off, too. 
Rubber soles or something similar are quite necessary, but 
will soon wear out. The rocks are the worst I ever saw. 
The rest of the way to the spring was made mostly on 
foot. Our horses were played. Boyd's had been without' 
shoes behind for several days, and his heels were bleeding 
For this reason he had been favored a little in dividing 
the water the previous night. About 3 o'clock my horse 
got so he didn't even feel like carrying his own_ weight, 
We emptied our canteens into the bucket. This small 
amount of water braced him up, and at_7 we reached the 
spring. Here we rested one day and just drank water. 
Francisco found two or three old horseshoes left by some 
prospector. We had no nails, but on arriving at San An- 
tonio ranch we got a few ,and with Boyd's horse shod 
made Ahumada in due time. 
Every one soon learns the Mexican expression for 
'very far." If there is one for "near by" I never heard 
it. There doesn't seem to be any occasion for it. 
The Writings of Special. 
F.diior Forest and Stream: 
Your regular correspondent under the name of Special 
writes well and entertainingly. I am sure the majority 
of the readers of Forest and Stream are interested in 
v^hat he says. Special is a personal stranger to me, yet I 
always read what he says. He has a way of stating cold 
facts which is interesting. 
I object to New Hampshire being called a hole. Liter- 
ally (as I understand) a hole (that is comparing Maine 
with New Hampshire) means a receptacle for the dollars 
which outsiders deposit. If New Hampshire is a hole in 
this sense, Maine is a cavern with no bottom. You Maine 
men, whether of the Fish and Game Commission or pri- 
vate citizens, read carefully what Special says as to this 
non-resident hunting license. Get out of your heads that 
your State is the only one where a man of moderate 
means can take his annual outing. You have a small 
class (comparatively) of transient visitors, who would be 
glad to have all expenses of such visitors trebled, and 
also to have a license of a large amount added, as Special 
says. Try it for a few years and note carefully the falling 
off of receipts. 
Here in this smaller hole (as compared with Maine) we 
are glad to see transient visitors. We do not pretend to 
allure as does our neighboring State; we have deer, 
feathered game and some good fish. If you know how 
to kill or catch them, they are yours, and it will cost one 
considerably less than to try it in Maine, and sometimes 
the result will be fully as satisfactory. In this "hole 
of New Hampshire" we think we know the value of our 
transient visitors. They are the best crop we can culti- 
vate. We do not want to choke them off by making them 
pay a special license for what they may not get. You 
Maine men read what Special says and ponder over it 
before you decide to kill the goose which lays the 
golden egg. C. M. Stark. 
DuNBARTON, N. H., July 28. 
\m mid ^iv^f S^^¥^S* 
Proprietors of fishing resorts will find it profitable to advertise 
them m Fokest and Stkbah. 
A Mouth-to-Mouth Talk, 
If the salmon is king, and the brook trout a prince of 
the blood, surely the black bass is entitled to have at 
least that much misused appendage. Esquire, hooked to 
his patronymic. But precisely here we are in deep water. 
If, in accordance with the threadbare jest, we "drop a 
line" to the large-mouthed gentleman from Oswego, bear- 
ing the alluring title of Esquire, should we not present to 
his nimbler and daintier-mouthed congener letters patent 
conferring the title of, say, Knight Commander of the 
Bath? We have no taste for raising family dorsals, there- 
fore we shall leave this moot case in somewhat the same 
state of uncertainty as that in which the two petty rival 
Irish chieftains left the question of their superiority. 
One claimed the overlordship of the other, and the feudal 
service and emoluments appertaining to the tenure. The 
claimant dispatched a scowling kern, fortified with a 
primitive shillalah, who delivered his message, punctuated 
with thuds of his blackthorn on the gate (not the pate, in 
this instance) of the putative vassal: 
"Pav me m'rint, O'Toole! An' if y' don't I!" 
The" addressed chieftain arose, muttering, "Sufferin' 
sods !" smote his shield with the handiest weapon at the 
moment, his fist, and thundered forth the. ultimatum : 
"I owe ye no rint, McFod ! An' if I did ! !" 
Probably the "rint" is yet unpaid. 
But though we do not desire to decide oracularly 
whether it shall be Micropterus Dolomieu, K. C. 
B., and Micropterus Salmoides, Esq., or vice versa, there 
i^ no reason why the interested parties themselves should 
not thresh out the subject. The opportunity to overhear 
such an interesting discussion was afforded us one day 
I&st summer at Greenwood Lake, where both species of the 
fresh-water bulldog occur. A more charming environ- 
ment could not easily be found. Here nature emptied her 
horn of plenty long ago, and still sits smiling amid the 
beauties she has lavislied. Doubtless there be lakes as 
blue and as placid as Greenwood, but with a more con- 
sciotts, tricked-out insistence; there may be embosoming 
hills clad in more luxuriant summer verdure, but you 
shall find them in the infected air of the tropics; and the 
Greenwood hills in their autumn dress are unsurpassable. 
For the true sportsman, whose avocation is but a peg 
whereon to hang, in the gallery oi his memory, pictures 
whose appeal is as varied to the mental as to the physical 
eye, this is an enchanted land. True, the mountain-fed 
waters do not now so teeem with their pristine life ; the 
deer have been buffaloed, if we may be permitted the 
word, and the drum of the ruffed grouse and the fife of 
Bob White do not stir the blood so frequently as they 
did when Frank Forester trod the Warwick woodlands. 
But her majesty the lake is to-day as fair, and her sur- 
rounding knights, the hills, are still as majestic and ob- 
sequious in their bravery, throwing their gorgeous mantles 
at her feet, as was Sir Walter when, with the gesture 
of a king, he spread his cloak beneath the foosteps of 
his queen. 
It was in these slirroundings that my guide and I lay 
on a bank at the water's edge, one broiling summer 
afternoon. The chorus of the birds was hushed. The 
"drowsy hum" of insects fihed the air. Here and there a 
dragon fly needled his gaudy length among the golden 
A QUIET NOOK. 
Photo by Miss B. 
globes of the pond lily that "lolls upon the wave," as it 
does forever in Poe's exquisite line. Leaves turned their 
pallid faces to the wilting sim as if beseeching him for 
mercy. Great fleece clouds mirrored their snow in the 
nether blue, or flung their giant shadows athwart the 
hills. A breeze, dropping from its wings the sappy odors 
of the woods, fluttered lightly on the surface of the lake. 
"See !" cried John, suddenlyj "there's a big bass under 
them lilypads." 
A dark shadow glided through the anchoring stems. It 
was a large-mouth bass. 
"That fellow will go five pounds good," he added. "An' 
by Christmas! there's another — a small-rnouth — he's a 
two-pounder." 
The second shadow seemed a little shy of the first. It 
was quicker in its movements, but kept a respectful dis- 
tance. Just then we heard from the floor of the lake — it 
was shallow here— in snappy tones, the greeting: 
"Hello, Stumpy!" 
"Howdy, Redeye! What air yew a-doin' here?" came 
back the drawling answer, with an unmistakable implica- 
tion of authority. ' 
"Well," said the small-mouth, "the spring's been cold, 
ROCKY POINT, I 
Plioto by Miss B. 
an' I thought I'd lazy a spell like yerself an' take a look at 
the sun." 
"Hugh ! Yew did, naow," grunted tlie Oswegoan. 
"How d'y' Stan' this hot weather, with all that fat on. 
Stumpy ?" 
"I hain't bin right smaart fer some days, young feller, 
ef y' want t' kiTOw bad. Th' lake's purgin' ongodly, an' I 
feel it alonger th' backbone — I hain't riz in a week, I 
hain't. I'm thirsty more than common, an' I drink hke a 
fisherman 1 Y' look ez chipper ez a yaller perch yerself." 
He looked at the two-pounder enviottsly. 
"Oh, yeh; I'm able to shake a fin, thanky — but you 
cer'niy look pale aroun' the gills, ole man." 
Redeye was rubbing it in, but the loquacious old fellow 
had a failing conmion to the aged— he liked to talk about 
his ailments. 
"Like's not I do look kind o' bad- Whiskers, thet cat- 
fish thet live in the hole at the maouth o' the crick, tol' me 
last night I'd oughter git a niess'o' shiners t' ]5righten 
up on." 
"Why, say, yer back fin ain't on straight, Shorty, an' 
y' got that greenery-yallery color on th' sides, from loafin* 
rouo' weeds. You look fierce! What's the worst word?" 
"Waal, I may look green an' I may look yaller, ez yew 
say, but I feel blue. Ef I must tell, my health hev bin 
pore sence I lose thet single o snelled hook thet stuck into 
m'jaw, an' three foot o' double gut a draggin' onto it, 
sence nigh onto a month. Yew seed it, hain't y' ? Waal, 
I kind o' got use to it, I did. I drug it araoun' an[ drug 
it araoun', an' when it rusted an' bruck off otito' a stump 
a few days ago, I feel 1-o-n-e-some like. 'Pears t' me ez 
ef I lose a fin." Here he rubbed his opercles gingerly 
against a lily stem. 
"Don't worry about that, Shorty," said Dolomieu, mov- 
ing slyly away. "You'll soon get another single o into 
that big gob o' yours." 
Salmoides squared himself and set his sp'incs, biit did 
not follow. He knew he was no match for his sprightly 
half-brother in a swimming contest. 
"Don't be so bristly, will y'? I didn't mean anythin'. 
I'm sorry y're under the weather," And Redeye ventured 
a little nearer. 
"I don't take no stock in sich small fry ez yew, no 
haow," replied Stumpy. "Yew hain't wuth a tin frawg !" 
"You seem t' be 'quainted with tin frogs. Did y' ever 
drop one down y'r fish car in a thunderstorm?" 
"Say, mister fingerlin'," growled Stumpy, quivering 
with unavailing rage,- his accent expanding in the heat of 
excitement, "my maouth bawthers yew awful, don't it? 
Ect's a handier maouth than yourn t' ketch reel live min- 
nies into. Yew air stuck on yer shape big, hain't y' ? But 
y' hain't no brook trout yerself, by a long fish line!" 
"Now, see here. Stumpy, I don't want t' be too finical, 
init y' mustn't use such spressions as 'stuck on youj- shape' 
when addressin' me. I ain't used to it, an' I'll snub y' the 
next time I meet y'." Redeye picked up some diminutive 
substance from the sand, pebbled it out again with super- 
cilious delicacy, and added: "Yoit're as vulgar as a 
sucker, Shorty ! Did y' ever go t' school ?" 
"School ! Hugh ! I bin jawstled araoun' into this here 
lake tew much t' go t' school. I never sot fin in no 
school, an' I hain't seed any." 
"Then y' might 'a' hooked on to sornethin' from the 
fishermen that come here, beside vulgarity an' tin frogs. 
That's the way I polished up m' grammar an' icktyology 
—ahem !" 
"Wow ! Say, yew must 'a' swallered what thet do- 
minie thet use t' fish here on Sundays, with a wooden 
bait an' a bottle, calls a 'dictionairy.' " 
"Well, y' see. Stumpy," replied Redeye, without moving 
a fin, "I'm a produc' o' fishculture." He turned in a flash, 
darted forward, and snapped out "Scat! Scat!" at a re- 
treating object. 
"What air yCw a-scattin' about naow?" mquired 
Stumpy, irritated. "Yew're wusser'n one o' these here 
dawgfish." 
"There's that ugly catfish jtist been here," said Redeye, 
i-e turning. 
"Caatfish ! Say, hain't yew got sence enough into yer 
head t' know that no caatfish is a-comin' into this shaller 
water this time o' day? Thet's Spikey, the pick'rel, 
snootin' 'raoun' them weeds fer a minnie. Caatfish ! Oh ! 
Glob-glob ! Glub-glub !" laughed the hulking fellow, roll- 
ing on his side, his gills rising and falling. "Yew bin t' 
school an' learn codology or sornethin', yew hev! Oh, 
glob, glub ! My sides ! I'll bust sornethin' a-lafin'." 
"I ain't used t' these weeds," explained Redeye, weakly, 
"an' I didn't look sharp." 
"Oh ! Ho ! Glub-glob ! Glob !" came the fat, bubblmg 
laughter again. "Yew hain't the only fresh fish thet's 
chock full o' book learnin', an' hain't got ez much^nat'ral 
gumption ez a phantom minnie! I knowed slews o' fish, I 
did, what mout be ketchin' spinners to-day ef they leave 
these here fly-books alone. Oh, glob-glob!" 
This outburst riled Dolomieu. The fire flashed vicious- 
ly in his eye. His spines bristled "like quills upon the 
fretful porcupine." Round and round Salmoides he 
rushed, as a predatory street arab capers around an apple . 
cajt, not daring to approach within striking distance of 
the enraged Greek; or. to change to a more appropriate 
metaphor, like a swift cruiser about a sluggish _ battle- 
ship. The large-mouth merely turned within his own 
length, slowly, head to the enemy. 
"Ain't you done chawin' of your mouth yet?' Redeye 
burst out. "When that gullet o' yours is open, y'r head's 
■ off an' the lake's afire ! If I could throw a grain o' salt 
on y'r tail, vou'd grow up t' be a jewfishi Y' look flab- 
bier than a' piece o' pork rind after a' evenin's fishin'.' 
He was forgetting his boasted good manners under the 
barb of wounded vanity. 
' The five-pounder also began to lose his head at this 
Billingsgate, and started in to plow water. "Yew'll call 
me names oncet tew often, yew little blaack trash! I'll 
rip— — " He stopped short, his prow toward the shore 
where we were lying. 
"What y' starin' at. Stump?" asked Redeye, surprised. 
"Y' look as scary as Goggles, the wall-eyed pike !" 
"Gosh all sinkers!" heaved out the huge one in great 
alarm. "They's Jawhn Smith, the guide, a-sittin' on to 
that bank, right there !" 
"Tohn Smith! Y' don't say!" 
Both turned tail instantly and fled to the shelter of the 
further pads. We could still discern the two shadows, 
however, and hear the voices gurghng upward. Fear of 
their common enemy settled their squabbles temporarily. 
Thev drew closer together. 
"Do vou know John, too?" said Redeye. 
"Do I know Jawhn ! Yes, yes I Jawhn come mOuty 
near givin' me the gapes, oncet upon a time, he did ! It 
were the wuss turn I ever hev I" 
"How'd it happen?" 
"Waal, it were this-a-wayi This June, one fine morn- 
in', an' a ripple onto the lake, I sot eyes on Jawhn drappin' 
into his boat an' sneakin' aout t' fish, all by his lonesome. 
He were castin' a small frawg on a six-ounce fly-rawd. 
Yew seed him do it, hain't y' ? Naow. thinks I, y' hain't 
a-gittin' no riz outen me t'-day, Jawhn! Waal, he kep 
a-wavin' an' a-wavin' thet little rush o' hisn, like a strip 
uv eel grass, an' I were tempted, I were, to f oiler him up 
an' see him ketch some fool fish on to it, livin' in hopes, I 
were, thet a loose frawg niout jump overboard outen his 
frawg car. 'Long about 'leven o'clawk. Vane come along, 
tew, an' I git kind o' kerflummixed with the tew boats, I 
reckon; an' I were feelin' terrible hongry by then, doin' 
nawthin' but follerin' all day. E'mi)''haow, I were just 
behind a big stump, front o' Jawhn's raft, when I see a 
pice, bright- frawg a-floppin' an' a-skitterin' an' a-shakin' 
