Nov. 29, Igbi.j 
luring the week, the same sound of melody swells from the viUhkc 
churches. When the kava is ser^'ed to merry gatherings in the 
evenings there is a game of forfeit; after the calling of the cun 
the recipient must eithei- recite a legend or sing a song, else he 
can have no dnnk. Almost all the knowledge of the past is nrc- 
^"Yf,, '"Chants and songs to be handed down with music. 
tins music IS vocal, the human voice is the only instrument. 
I he Samoans never attained to the slightest beginning of the idea 
ot tixity of musical values which has culminated in the orchestra. 
Itiey have a form of flute; with the bamboo growing in all thc 
fprests It would have been wonderful if there had been no recogni- 
hon of its sound-producing value. But the island flute was an in- 
.strument of small compass, it was pierced with three holes, but the 
rrtops follow no regular system, and tlierefore arc of no service in 
developing a musical scale. And th\a flute was blown at the nostril 
not at the hps. Its sound is a faint and feeble note, too small of 
vohime to accompany the voice, and with too little fle.xitv to re- 
produce the tunes of the common songs. They are not whistlers; 
many of them do not know how to make the sound through puck- 
ered hps, a whistle is not used even to call a dog. The onlv de- 
velopnient of the instrumental idea as an assistant to the voice has 
been along the line of the drum. They have drums of varying sizes 
but of one general type, a log of wood somewhat like their canoes iti 
sliape and hollowed out through a slit on the upper surface. Some 
ot these reach the length of ten or twelve feet, and give a note cor- 
res^pondingly deep From this size they grade down to those of 
less than a foot, which may be carried in the hand. The drum sticks 
vary in proportion, from the single club which is used on the largest 
to the two wands employed on the hand drums. The sharp tones 
of these excavated drums are employed only for signal purposes, 
to call the people to meeting to sound the curfew, which senis the 
children scurrj-ing off to bed. The drum is used in music, a mere 
measurer of time, is hastily made by rolling any mat off the floor 
to surround a bund'e of a few sticks; it is blaten by a stick in each 
hands =''°''"ser. it is usually supplemented by clapping of the 
"K-irely in these days does one hear the chanting of the old 
cgends: the older people are becoming very jealous that tlie 
knowledge of them should not be spread among the Papalann^l 
foreigners, the younger people are scantily familiar with the ofd 
fornis of intoning. The reciter droned a large part of the poetry 
of these t.ales on a low note; from this he passed suddenly to a 
higher pitch and chanted a short passage, and then the hearers broke 
cut into a lyric chorus of certain i,arts, after which the reciter re- 
droning recitative From those lyric choruses, at first 
Samoanr"^ ^ developed tlie music of the 
In the chapters that follow the more serious descriptive parts of 
he work are given vivid descriptions of adventure, of the habits of 
lie people, and of the part Mrs. Churchill took. Her energv and 
ler fearlessness look the author into many situations which were 
Ifreult enough for a civilized woman, but her unfailing cheerfu? 
Iiess and courafje invariably brought her through ^neeriui 
The volume 13 beautifully illustrated with twenty-four full-page 
plates, including a portrait of the author, and the mechan cal ex 
eoution of the volume is all that can be desired. Tt b pulXied 
in two editions, one on antique deckle-edged paper uncut with 
nibncated title mge and gilt top. This edition is Vim ed to 500 
copies, numbered, ^and signed by the author. Price, $,2 
The leHs expensive edition, price $1.50. is on ordinary paper. 
— « — ^- 
Reminiscences of an Octogenarian.* 
Part 1. 
bV tHE OLD ANGLER. 
n.'lJ^-'/"' T ^°T^ ^° happy- and so pleasant 
as the lite of a wdl-governed angler." 
— Izaalt Walton. 
'f^"j''^^ Dalhousie at its mouth to the 
,ninction of Kedgwick, some sixty-five or seventy miles 
IS ttnbroken by falls, cascades, rough waters, or even by 
rapids of any magnitude. It is a deep, swiftly flowing 
.stream, always delightfully cold, and so clear that thf 
bottom, even at a depth of six feet, is easily seen. In 
he absence of rapids and rough water, the salmon He 
in s HI, deep stretches that glide away almost without a 
ripple. An angler accustomed to fish Tobique. Nepis- 
Higuit, and Mirannchi waters, where the fish prefer an<xrv 
pools at the foot of falls, above and below rapids and 
among rough waters, visiting; the Ristigouche for the 
hrst time, would pass miles ot smooth, rapid water with- 
out taking the trouble to cast a fly, so unlikely would it 
.^eem that salmon would rise in such water, even if thev 
were lying m its depths. 
' Some forty-five years ago, the late M. H. Perley then 
Imperial Immigration Agent at St. John, and the late 
A. L. i'lght, C. E., in charge of the Quebec & St. An- 
drew.s Railroad, then in course of construction, crossed 
tlie short portage from Grand River, an afliuent of the 
bt. John, and struck the Ristigouche at its extreme head- 
»vatcr.s. In a bark canoe, with two Indians from Tobique 
one of whom was the Sachem Gabe, then in his prime' 
■liey glided down the whole length of the river to Dal- 
lousie without making a single portage. They reported 
he river, from Kedgwick down, as alive with salmon 
lyhich would not rise to the fly, and they had to allow 
Iieir Indians to spear enough fish for camp on their 
lownward trip. It may seem incredible that two good 
inglers, both of whom had fished the Spey and the 
I weed m Scotland, and the Nepissiguit and "Miratnichi 
II New Brunswick, should have canoed down the whole 
■nurse of the Ristigouche without taking a single sal- 
non with rod and line'. But the writer conversed with 
hem both on their return, and finds no difficulty in be- 
ieving their report nor in accounting for their unique 
xperience. They had not learned to manipulate a fly 
s the small boy does his worm. 
When the writer first visited the Ristigouche, thirty 
ears ago, he was met at Metapedia by the late John 
dowat, then a fishery Avarden on the Quebec side of the 
iver. Born at Dee Side in Scotland, he had been reared 
■i-om boyhood on the banks of the Ristigouche ; had been 
unter, trapper, lumberman, farmer and fisherman; he 
new every mile of the main river and all the salient 
eatures of its principal tributaries — Metapedia, Upsal- 
lutch. Patapedia and Kedgwick. In his boyhood, Dee 
^ide Farm, named after his old home, was the highest 
oint on the river to which civilization extended. Above 
lat. only the Indian, the hunter or the lumberman broke 
ic silence of these vast solitudes, except when the bull 
loose or caribou bellowed his challenge to some intruder 
'ho sought to join the herds. At that time the Risti- 
Duche Salmon Club had not evolved, and few anglers 
>er went higher than the pools above and below the 
Iresent railway bridge at Metapedia station. These pool.s 
ere then, as they are still in the last half of June, well 
• Those of the last two generations who have read "Sporting 
:etches in Maine and New Brunswick," by An Old Angler, will 
i pleased to renew acquaintance with hjni jn ^hg reminiscences 
[lich be promise4 pur readers, 
FOfi:£St ANt) STREAM. 
stocked with fi-esh-run salmon, and wete ftee to all fish- 
ermen, whose love of sport induced whsit in these days 
was considered a ti-emendous journey. Thfese were the 
'gold old ,days" before millionaires tempted riparian 
owners with fabulous sujns and formed d "trust" which 
shut out all but moneyed men fi-om the sport of salmofl 
nshing with rod and line. In these pools the fish sel- 
(lon^ take the fly above water. Mowat took one in his 
canoe to the head of the long, deep, still pool a ffew 
in.ndrcd yards above the bridge, and told me to try there. 
he pool was then about three hundred yards in length ; 
deep, black, almost without a ripple, flowing swiftly but 
smoothly, as if oil instead of water was running past 
and beneath the anchored canoe. Accustomed to the 
broken and dancing waters of the Miramichi, the ru.sh- 
ing and troubling ca.scades of the Nepissiguit, the Old 
Angler laughed at his guide; but at his behest made his 
best casts and played a Jock-Scot across the surface 
right and left in a manner he thought would tempt any 
salmon that lay within sight of the fleeting lure. After 
repeated casts all round without a sight or sign of fish, 
the guide advised that the fly sink beneath the .surface 
and play it as a bait. This was something new to the 
writer, and he thought it queer salmon angling; but 
live and learn" being one of his pet proverbs, he con- 
sidered his most artistic Jock— on whose dressing he 
rather prided himself— a good fat worm, and proceeded 
to jig It gently up .and down, as he used to fish for "sea 
trout" through the" ice when a schoolboy at Newcastle, 
on the beautiful banks of the Miramichi, the most won- 
derful fish river in the world. Just here let me digress 
to tell your readers that in the tideway are sturgeon, 
mackerel, cod, pollack, herring, lobsters and oysters; 
up river there are salmon, bass, shad, gaspereau, trout' 
smelt, frost-fish and eels, all of which the writer has 
taken in its waters from boyhood to middle age. Here 
are fifteen species of commercial food fishes, taken in 
l.irge quantities from a single river, in northern New 
Brunswick. If there is another like it in the world the 
writer does not know its whereabouts. 
But, rcvenons a nos montons, the river ran with 
such velocity that it was difficult to keep the fly sub- 
merged, and as artistic casting was useless, the fly was 
splashed out with the sole view of getting it under water 
and_ working it as a bait. I soon had a bite, and acting 
mstinctively from acquired habit, made the turn of the 
wrist, which long practice with the fly on other waters 
had rendered automatic. The line came home minus 
the fly — and Mowat laughed ! Several successive at- 
tenipts cost me leaders, knotted from gut that was a 
^guinea a hank, and flies that cost hours of careful dress- 
ing — and Mowat laughed — until I got so excited and 
nervoits that I was glad to retire to the stretches below 
the bridge and try to get cool by catching some of the 
fine fontinalis, erroneously called sea trout, which rose 
gallantly to the fly and sometimes took it in mid-air, 
which rto salmon was ever known to do on the Risti- 
gouche or its tributaries. On that occasion the Old 
Angler had the chagrin of leaving the river^without land- 
ing a salmon, which fact, with the loss of many leaders 
and flies, but above all, the unmerciful jibes and irritating 
laughter of Mowat, made the visit memorable. 
On subsequent visits the writer partially overcame old 
•habits and acquired the art of allowing the fish to hook 
themselves, which they will do if the fisherman will keep 
his fly moving under the surface and refrain from strik- 
ing when he feels the fish. Me judice, this is but poor 
angling; but when the fish is securely hooked, he will 
give the angler all the exercise and excitement he wants 
and his tackle all it will bear to bring him to gaff, as 
the .salmon of the Ristigeuche seldom weigh less than 
eighteen or twenty pounds : they often run from twenty- 
fi\e to thirty, with &n occasional fresh-run beauty that 
will turn the scale at forty pounds. 
The style of fishing is admirably suited to the million- 
aires of the Ristigouche Club, who now control almost 
the whole fishing of the river, and - its niaifi tributaries. 
Seated in a low chair in the bottom of a canoe, into 
which he has to be assisted for fear of upsetting, well 
supplied with costly cigars and iced champagne, a double- 
l^arreled breechloader at his side, one tube charged with 
duck shot, tlie other with ball cartridge, he sets off after 
a Lucullian breakfast and is paddled to the water he in- 
tends fishing, his face protected by an elaborate mosquito 
mask, and his hands by immaculate kid gloves, minus the 
finger tips. Arrived there, his attendant, generally a half- 
breed Indian from Mission Point, on the Quebec side, 
selects and attaches the fly he considers suitable for the 
day, and the water, all of which are profound mysteries 
to the cltib house angler, who proceeds, with a swish up- 
ward and swash downward to get it into the water. At 
the end cf a short line and on a straight rod he sways 
i<- up and down the current as the ^mall boy manipttlates" 
his gad and line of twine. Often he gets plenty of bites, 
but loses three fish out of every five that hook themselves. 
Unpble to stand up, his guides humor the movements of 
the fish by suitable movements of the canoe, so that it is 
always more by good luck than by skill that the fish is 
. brought to gaff, ^^ery often the wealthy fisherman gets 
Aveary of the monotonous motion of manipulating his rod 
from a low chair and gi\-es it to one of the guides, who 
does the necessary bobbing till a fish is hooked, when 
the angler relinquishes his costly cigar and resumes the 
rod to do what he rightly terms the "killing," which he 
considers the best part of the sport. The writer re- 
marked to Mowat on one occasion that these fishermen 
took their outing otium cum dignitatc "The oiium is all 
right ; but the dignitate, I suspect, arises from the fear of 
moving, lest the canoe upsets," he replied with grotesque 
httmor. 
This is a fair description of the greater part of the 
salmon fishing that prevails among the millionaires of 
the Ristigouche Club ; and their ideas of camaraderie— 
that feeling which makes anglers brothers wherever they 
meet — were as peculiar as their notions of sport. Their 
hospitality was confined to asking a visitor in a patron- 
izing way to "have a drink," and that was exercised but 
seldom. The late Governor Carvell, of P. E. Island, and 
the present judge of one of the higher courts of Canada, 
with the writer, when an officer in the Civil Service, paid 
for our drinks at the bar. which was the most prominent 
feature of the club house, though the liquids supplied 
were by no means of first q.uality; but then perhaps they 
did not dispense supernaculum to visitors. Of course 
4ai 
there we're exceptions, and the writer is ifilofmed that of 
late years the exceptions are increasing. A few of the 
members were both sportsmen and anglers; but these 
spent little of their time at the club house. With a single 
attendant, a tent aiid necessary stores, they sought the 
most distant and difficult parts of the river, and doin^ 
all their own work excerjt paddling the canoe and cook- 
ing, found and enjoyed all the sport the salmon of this 
river can give. 
After several visits to the Ristigouche and its tribu- 
taries, the writer is compelled to the opinion that for the 
sportsman who has risen from the ranks of fisherman 
to the higher grade of angler, there is riiore spott and 
keener enjoyment to be had in the Nepissiguit alld Mira- 
michi, though the fish of these rivers do not reach mdrg 
than half the weight of their Ristigouche brethren. The 
angler who has raised and hooked his salmon by fair 
casting at Rough Waters, Pabincau or Grand Falls on 
Nepissiguit, or at Chain of Rocks, Burnt Hill or Slate 
Island on the Southwest Miramichi, need not envy the 
millionaires of the club, though thej^ have shut him out 
from the Ristigouche and all its branches. The fish of 
this river, especially those of the largest size, seldom 
leap more than once, no matter how prolonged is their 
fight for liberty. By main .strength they bore their way 
up and down the deep pools in which they are almost 
always hooked. Generally they spend much time in 
"sulking" at the bottom, from which the guides have 
to rouse them with their setting poles or by throwing 
stones at their whereabouts, which can only be guessed 
at. What sport there can be to the angler who, in his 
chair, is more the prisoner of the salmon than the lat- 
ter is of his captor, the millionaire alone can tell. The 
real sportsman who knows what it is to angle amid the 
music of rushing waters, would find little pleasure in this 
travesty of bis favorite recreation. On the Miramichi 
and Nepissiguit, where submerged rocks, sharp ledges 
and narrow passages help the fish in his fight, he very 
often leaps three feet in the air half a dozen times in 
the course of his gallant fight. He who has followed 
his captive from rock, from ledge to ledge, with the eye 
of hope and the foot of faith, along a rugged bank and 
at last brought him fairly to gafl^, has enjoyed such sport 
as the millionaire club man could neither appreciate nor 
follow. He who can stand at Flat Rock, at Pabineau, and 
by artistic casting (for nothing else will do it) lure the 
salmon of eighteen pounds that is surely lurking in the 
edge of the pitch, to follow the fly and take it on the 
surface; who can by the gentle turn of his wrist fix 
the hook in his fish — a Nepissiguit salmon never hooks 
himself — and by masterly management confine him to 
the pool above; or failing that, can leap ashore from rock 
to rock with the arch on his rod, follow him in his mad 
rushes down the rapids below the fall and bring him to 
gaff in the eddy a quarter of a mile ftirther down, will 
have sport that no angler on the Ristigouche ever en- 
joyed. But the Old Angler is inclined to think the mil- 
lionaires were wise in their generation, for they secured 
the one river in Canada which can give them the only 
fishing they desire; a place where they can blend a dilet- 
tantism of angling with the dolce far niente of kid gloves 
and Lucullian gastronomy ; a place where the real .sports- 
man and angler would be ashamed to waste the few- 
precious days he can steal from the increasing cares of 
business life. 
Some thirty years have elapsed since the writer found 
himself in the performance, of official duty at Indian 
House Brook, a small stream debouching into the Ris- 
tigouche about thirty-eight miles from Metapedia station 
on the I. C. R. He was again accompanied_ by John 
Mowat, - who had risen in the fisheries service to be 
overseer of the whole Ristigouche District, including 
both sides of the affluents and estuary of this noble 
river. Many anglers will remember this oflicer, and 
those who knew him well will give a kindly thought to 
one of the cleverest men who ever lived and died on the 
north shore of New Brunswick; one of the most genial, 
hearty and versatile men the writer has met in the 
course of a long and varied life. Those who have en- 
joji-ed the hospitality of Mrs. Mowat and the comforts of 
Dee Side Farm will remember its spacious hall and large 
tables, where books, magazines and papers — among 
which was always the Edinbiu-gh Scotsman, with angling 
news from the Dee, the Tweed and the Spey — told of 
the prevailing tastes of her fine family of sturdy boys 
and winsome lassies, who have since become manly men 
and motherly matrons. Mowat had a brusque manner 
and a grotesque humor that spared neither foe nor 
friend; indeed, the latter were those at whose expense 
it was most often displayed. Neither time, place nor 
company ever restrained him. from laughing himself and 
making others join him ; even his victims could not help 
joining the laugh against themselves. In after years, 
when we met in company with the late Samuel Wilmot, 
.Superintendent of Fishculture in Canada, he told with 
inimitable skill and humor an incident exemplifying a 
characteristic weakness Avhich, among Wilmot's friends 
— and he had many warm and sincere ones — ^in no way 
detracted from his many good qualities as hon camarade. 
The writer cannot pretend to relate this as Mowat told 
it; the most graphic word painter would fail to convey 
any but a faint idea of the exaggerated style and humor- 
ous gestitres with which he imitated Wilmot's manner 
and speech ; lie can only feebly reproduce from memory 
the salient points of Mowat's story. 
When . the Marquis of Lorne and the Princess Louise 
represented royalty in Canada, they were visited by the 
late Duke of Argyle and his two daughters. When the 
Marquis and the Princess went salmon fishing on the 
Ristigouche for the first and last time, the Duke and his 
daughters joined the party, which landed from a special 
train of palace cars at Metapedia station ; the whole party 
consisting of the Duke and his daughters, the Marquis 
and Princess. Sir John Macneil and Major de Winton, 
A. D. C.s; a French chef de cuisine, and several attend- 
ants. Mowat met them on arrival, and the whole party, 
in two divisions, embarked on board t\vo house-boats 
built on broad-bottomed scows, each towed upstream by - 
a .scan of horses to tire various points where the best 
lishing was expected. After two or three daj's' prospect- 
ing, w'ith indifferent success, the two parties joined at 
Indian House and made permanent camps, the several 
pools in that neighborhood furnishing, room for all to : 
fish. The Marquis was soon tired of a kind of angling 
