14 8 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 23, i9C'2 
, /'I'll fix them yet," said Mr. Mershon. Again he 
dived into the fly-book. This time he brought out a lot 
of tiny English midges or sedge flies tied on the most 
flimsy of leaders. With this we began to cast as deli- 
cately as we knew how, dropping the fly as before, 
straight.- across stream from us, and allowing it to float 
downward. The scheme worked, and on these small flies 
we had considerable sport. We did not raise any very 
big fish, but made nice baskets of trout, running into the 
8 and 9 inch class. We were all of us very happy when 
we rounded up at camp that night. 
Hatd Watets. 
On the morning of the third day we inaugurated a 
change of campaign. Our guide, George King, insisted 
that Mr. Mershon and myself should go with him and 
fish a strip of almost inaccessible water some eight miles 
above our camp. Here he said were several miles of the 
deepest water on the stream, and here he promised us 
that we would find big trout and big grayling. To fish 
this v?ater meant that we would need to drive six or eight 
miles through the plains and woods, get into the river at 
the upper end of a heavy alder swamp and then fish down 
until we got out at the"foot of this swamp. Once in the 
river, there was no getting but at either side, for the 
stream passed through an impenetrable jungle of alders, 
cedars and the like, through which not even a black bear 
could penetrate. King promised to drive down and 
meet us at the foot of the stream, and he counseled us 
to fish fast, for we would find the trip a long one. The 
stream was very crooked, he. said, and he could not tell 
how many miles it was. No one went into it, because 
everybody was afraid of getting stuck in the swamp. 
But King knew how to get out. He had gone through 
there once or twice, and he assured us it was worth the 
eflFort. 
This sort of thing directly appealed to Mr. Mershon 
and myself. Before noon we were into this stream at 
the head of the swamp. We found the water here en- 
tirely different from what it had been at our camp. Be- 
fore the river had been broken up by bright shallow 
places, Avith now and then deep holes or wide pools. 
The bottom was in some cases rocky in the lower waters. 
Up here in this swamp the stream had an entirely differ- 
ent aspect. The water was much colder. The river was 
much more crooked. The bottom was entirely of sand. 
At one side or the other of nearly every bend there 
would be a deep black hole, cut out under the bank, 
overlapped by a wide mat of alders. In places the alders 
nearly met over the stream, but for the most part it was 
possible to cast the fly, although one needed to be care- 
ful with his back cast. 
It was a hard water to fish, yet as quick as we put foot 
into it we saw its possibilities in the way of big fish. 
Although we had breast-high waders, there were holes 
through which we could not pass with impunity. A.^"in 
late Jul3^ all the fish have taken tn the deep water", we 
knew in advance that we had gotten into the hiding place 
of the big fish. Mr. Mershon went on below for a ways 
with a last injunction to King not to forget to call us 
when he reached the bank at the foot of the alders in the 
late evening. The 5un was very bright and warm, and I 
must confess as I started fishing T had very little hope- of 
doing anything. The water was entirely bright and clear, 
and it seemed impossible under the circumstances to lay 
out a fly to a distance which would be effective. I tried 
the plan which Mr. Mershon liad found effective pre- 
viously, allowing the fly to float down stream, trying 
meanwhile to work it in under the alders in the deep 
black water where I was satisfied the trout were lying. 
I did no good at if, nor did T expect to do anything, 
but moved down stream, honing for a change of condi- 
tions. At last I found Mr. Mer.shon sitting on a sand 
bank at a bend of the st'-r-am Viokin.? intrntly into his 
fly-book, 
"There's a half dozen awiul bi^ .^raviiiiii ui that hole." 
said he. pointin.g at the water in front of him, "and I 
can't get them to rise to anything T have got." Indeed 
we could see the fish there, one grayling more than a 
foot long, possibly 15 inches long. Mr. Mershon had 
one nice trout in his basket, bttt when I left him at this 
pool he had not succeeded in inveiglfn.g any grayling. I 
went on down stream, still sticking tn the long h'ne and 
the floating f]y, prjd still meeting with no success what- 
ever. I changed flies as best T might and cast my pretti- 
est. At last I put on a fly which I suppose is called the 
^'bee," which is a brown hackle, a "body of black, with 
yellow bands, like the body of a bee. Noticing the trout 
rising at a little patch of grass where the cufrefif swung 
around, I made a long castr and at the second try I 
hooked a beauty and qtiickly put him in. my basket, a 
nice lo-inch fish. This roused my flag.ging spirits, and 
I concluded tO'try a little harder, Tn less than five min- 
utes I noticed apot^er trout rise under some heavy cedar 
boughs. I floated my bee here also-, and just as it was 
in the right place, began to take it back for fear of get- 
ting ,snagged. The fish struck as T lifted. Away went my 
leader and three flies. This fish was heavy that I did 
not start him up at all, nor did I again see any signs of 
him. I had one more bee left, and on this I got another 
strike or so, but in adjusting my leader I unfortunately 
lost my fly, which got into the water and so floated 
down stream. Then I tried a brown hackle and began 
to get some signs of life. 
At this time, Mr. Mershon waded down on me. 
"Put on a bee, if you have one," said I. 
"I haven't any bees," said he, "but I'll try a McGinty." 
He showed it to me. It had the same body and hackle 
as the fly I had been using, with a red tag and a black 
wing with white tips. Altogether it was a big and 
clumsy looking fly, and not what one would fancy for a 
bright day and a clear stream. Mr. Mershon passed me, 
stating that he intended to use this fly for a while. 
The Other Fellow's Luck. 
Perhaps an hour now elapsed before I again came up 
to him on the stream', we having both by this time 
worked far down into the swam.p. When I did find him 
he was standing up to his waist at the head of a deep 
^nol and was playing a fish. I had had no more success 
myself, although using the McGinty fly which he had 
,n;iven me. I could hardly believe him when he told me 
h'e 'htid his bfi.sket. nearly fyll o| nm trout;. "Why," said 
he, "I've bee ncatching them right along. What's the 
matter with you?" 
I think the matter was that I had been using a tapered 
line and a long leader, and hence did not have as good 
control over the fly as I needed. Mr. Mershon was cast- 
ing close into the bushes in the deep holes and giving the 
fly a twitching motion. Once more he had solved the 
problem of the day! Telling me to go in advance, I 
picked up three or four fish, but he picked up as many 
below me. He simply was a better fly-fisherman than 
myself, and that was all there was to it. 
Dark la the Swamp. 
Now it began to get dark and we had not the slightest 
idea in the world where we were or how far it was to any 
place of rest or comfort. The river was dark, deep and 
a bit uninviting in the twilight. We supposed we had 
perhaps half a mile or more of it to go, but in this sup- 
position we were wrong. Mr. Mershon obHged me to 
stop fishing, and rolling up our lines, we started down as 
fast as we could go. We had traveled perhaps a mile 
when at last we heard a shout below us. We answered, 
and in the course of ten or fifteen minutes we came upon 
George King, our guide, who had waded up stream. 
He had been fishing a bit on his own account and had 
20 fish in his basket. 
"Do you know how far it is out of this swamp?" said 
he. He told us that it was over two miles. You may be 
sure that we were tired when at last we plunged out of 
the last reach of this difficult water and got up on the 
bank. We were then in the darkness and in an unknown 
country, but King, a very good woodsman, found a trail 
back to an abandoned logging camp, where he had 
cached his horses. We only lost our way once on the 
way back to camp, which we reached at 10 o'clock in the 
night, to find our friends somewhat stirred up over our 
absence. Mr. Mershon's basket of fish included three 
beautiful big grayling, like the old-time sort, every one 
of them a foot long and one I think over 14 inches. 
Naturally everybody was much elated over these grand 
fish. 
Still More Grayling. 
As to Major Lyon and Mr. Davis, they had gone down 
.stream below the pools where Mr. Mershon and I had 
left off the previous day. They caught five grayling btit 
had no very heavy fish. The records for the day were: 
Mr. Mershon 15, Mr. Davis 17, Mr. Lyon and myself 
6 each. 
Now came still another day of sport, and by this time 
wc all had our blood up. Mr. Davis wanted to have a 
go at this alder swamp fishing, and Mr. King agreed to 
take him in at the lower end of the stretch over the old 
river drivers' tr^il, which would enable them to fish per- 
haps half of this water. Mr. Mershon said he would 
wade up the stream and fish below Mr. Davis in the 
alder swamp. Mr. Lyon and myself took the stream 
where Mr. Davis had made his big catch on the sec- 
ond day. As for the Major and myself, I found him to 
be a most lovable companion, quiet, steady and skillful. 
I must say that Major Lyon is a gentleman 73 years 
of age, or rather 73 years of youth. One Would not take 
him to be over 55. He .shoots and fishes right along with 
all the members of the Saginaw crowd, and holds up his 
end of the log in every particular. One may imagine 
that the water of a trout stream is none too warm in the 
misty morning. It was a novel sight to see so old a 
gentleman as Major Lyon go out in the morning and 
take his plunge in the pool along with the younger mem- 
bers of the party. I must say that he beat me on the 
.stream fishing that day, for his fish were more numer- 
ous and better in size than my own. This he did in 
spite of the fact that he met the misfortune of breaking 
the tip of his fly-rod. This latter we mended as best 
we mi,ght, but it left him only a stiff stick about suitable 
for bait-casting. The Major never whimpered, but cast 
on with the short rod, and beat me fishing even with that 
sort of rig. Once we stood together at a deep water 
where a heavy spring broke in. Casting with the short 
line the Major yanked out four beautiful trout under my 
nose. Again he turned over or half turned over a very 
heavy trout, which he could not stop or do anything 
with. Again, as we stood side by side at the edge of a 
deep run over white sand, he cast in and at once was di- 
rectly into a 12-inch grayling, which he promptly brought 
into his basket. He took three or four grayling that day, 
and I had as many to my own rod, although I kept but 
two. We came into camp that night, had supper a little 
after sundown, and then waited an hour or two for our 
. friends who had gone on the upper stream. 
During the afternoon, as I was wading down the 
.stream in advance of Major Lyon, I saw at a distance 
of 200 or 300 yards ahead a glimpse of some red-colored 
object moving among the bushes at the edge of the 
stream. Of course, I l<new at once that this was a deer, 
and as the presence of a long and noisy bit of fast water 
made the matter more practicable. I concluded to see 
what I could do in stalking it. T could see that it was 
a small deer and one much persecuted by flies. Its head 
was directly away from me and with its ears turned side- 
ways and its tail upright, all three switching in discord 
or union, as the cast might be, the animal resolved it- 
self into three moving points of white and gray. When- 
ever it put down its head, I moved down stream through' 
the rapid water, and whenever its switched its tail with 
the peculiar signal a deer gives when about to raise its 
head, I paused motionless in mid stream, the gray color 
of my clothing rendering me inconspicuous in the sur- 
roimdings. In this way I worked on down within 50 
feet, 40 feet, even within 30 feet of the deer. It was a 
fawn, well-grown, but still in the spotted coat, and very 
beautiful, indeed, it seemed. It would stand and look 
at me curiously and half apprehensively, then, with a 
peculiar sidelong turn of the head, would go to feeding 
again at the edge of the water, with one eye on me the 
while. At this close range I dared not attempt to go 
nearer, and finally the little creature accepted me as part 
of its surroundings, and went on feeding undisturbed. 
I examined it very closely, the beauty and strangeness 
of the situation appealing to me very keenly. No doubt 
the fawn'i mother was near by in the thicket, but if so 
she did not get any hint of danger, for there was no 
signal to the little one on the narrow beach. We stood 
4 
thus, not a biscuit toss apart, for several minutes. Ou]' 
little session was brought to an end in a manner some,) 
what singular. My quiet advance had brought me to thf. 
end of the rapids, and to the head of a bit of still watet^ 
near whose edge the deer was feeding. I dared not gc 
into this still water, for I knew that the ripples would 
give the alarm. Meantime, just at my left, at the fool 
of the rapids and in the still water, a good-sized trouf 
broke water two or three times. The ruling passion was 
too strong, and at last, while the deer had its head dowrl 
feeding, I gave a switch of the rod and tossed my fl\| 
over the rising trout. In an instant he had it. and ii 
another instant he was out in mid pool, splashing on thti 
surface as a hooked trout will do. This disturbance in 
the water sent up the deer's head as though by an elec- 
tric shock. Now the whole expression of its faq 
changed. There was fear and apprehension written al' 
over it. It looked at me steadily, curiously, with ear^ 
upHfted and tail interrogative. I stood entirely quiet 
with my wrist firmly at my side, holding the butt of th< 
rod. I doubt if the splashing of the trout in the poo] 
would of itself have alarmed my little companion. Fvoh- 
ably it saw the twitching of the tip of the rod, whici 
the trout was jerking somewhat violently. At any rate 
after about half a minute of this intense staring, my littli 
friend turned slowly aside and went off into the thickei 
with the most dignified, high-stepping, stiff-legged gaii 
one_ could imagine. Its ears were rigid and its tail ai 
straight and stiff as a spike above its back. It did noi 
snort nor bound nor run, but with the utmost pcrfectio 
of inimitable nonchalance, dignity and scorn, edged its 
way into the thicket, and I neither saw nor heard of jj 
more. I fancy but few sportsmen have ever been thus 
close to a wild deer and a wild trout at the same time 
nor have many anglers ever scared a deer in the playing 
of a trout. The picture was one to remain long in mem 
cry. 
A Great Day. 
It was a great day that Mr. Davis and Mr. Mershoii 
had had. King had taken in the live box of Mr. Davis! 
and they reported just fifty splendid trout and grayling 
safely floating in the water where they left the river. 
Mr. Mershon brought home the biggest catch made oi| 
the trip, 44 trout, nearly a big bass basket full, even whep 
they were cleaned. In this catch he had three whaling 
big grayling. "McGinty did it," said Mr. Mershon. H{ 
later told us that he had fished with a single fly of the 
McGinty pattern much as he had the day previous with 
myself. In a water which King had told him was goodi 
he took 12 trout out of one pool, 6 from another. Aftel 
that it was easy. He had the trout beaten, and it wa^ 
simply a question to fish still, go quietly, wait until thd 
water cleared and then cast directly over the deep holesi 
"I waited sometimes 20 minutes at the head of a deei* 
pool," said he, "before I would begin fishing. The 
grayling think then you are a stump, and if you keep youj 
feet still, so that no sand or mud will run down streaiti 
before you, and if you .cast with as little motion of the 
arm as possible, you will catch fish. But it takes fishing 
to catch fish in there." 
Thus two rods had that day taken nearly 100 fish! 
among them some splendid specimens of this "extinct'] 
fish, the grayling. You may be sure that we had anothet 
grand reunion in camp that night, and congratulated 
ourselves upon the success of our trip. All the rods re 
ported grayling, though all returned most of the grayi 
ling which were taken. In the day I probably took some, 
thing like 30 trout and grayling fish, but put back all 
the small ones. 
The Grayling's Habits. 
The grayling in habits is different from the ttoUt. II 
does not lie under the banks but sticks to the open waJ 
ters. Instead of biting best in the morning, it bites best 
in the middle of the day. Instead of preferring a cloudjf 
day, it likes best bright days for its feeding operations. 
Instead of jerking and yanking at the hne like a trout 
when hooked, it makes a long swift run, going across tlie 
pool with its back fin up against the current. It jumps 
oftener than the trout, fights more rapidly, rises cleaner, 
and is a quicker fish. It does not fight as long as the 
trout and its mouth is more delicate. It is a quickd 
riser, and is, on the whole, a sportier fish than the trout; 
"I call the grayling a gentleman fish," said Mr. Mer-' 
shon. "It is the prince of all the American fishes except 
the salmon." 
That night we put up all our grayling in a compart- 
ment basket filled with ice. We now had enough of them 
to make a beautiful display, and we simply gloated over' 
our beautiful trpphies. 
The Last Day. 
The next day was to be our last in camp, and we had 
to get back over the long drive to the railroad. The 
breaking of camp necessarily took us several hours, 
but by noon we found ourselves packed and en route. 
We made a pause at the part of the road close to our 
celebrated alder swamp. Major Lyon said he would 
fish below this point for a little way, while Mr. Davis 
and Mr. Mershon offered me my ciioice of the water 
above. We three started up stream wading, and I must 
record my honest admiration for the length and tough- 
ness of Mr. Davis' legs. He is built for high stepping 
arid far going. The latter gentleman contented himself 
with a half mile or so of water at the lower end of the' 
swamp. Mr. Mershon and I went up a half mile further 
until we found the trail which King had taken the prev- 
ious day. Mr. Mershon gave me my option of staying 
back or taking the up trail. I choose the latter course 
and decided to fish the water deeper into the recesses of 
the swamp. 
"You had better walk for half an hour before ycu 
stop," said Mr. Mershon. "You'll then be somewhere , 
not very far from the stream, and maybe you can bre 
through the alders, as the others did yesterday." 
The cedar swamp through which the old river drivers' 
trail led, was like all other cedar swamps, hot, thick and 
decidedly nasty in every respect. Two or three times Ii 
had to pause, since the heat of my big waders, intensi- 
fied by the glare of the mid day sun and unrelieved 
any breath of air, made the going at times almost insup' 
portably bard. None th? l^ss, I walked for 2§ minutef ; 
