882 
FOREST AlsriD STREAM. 
[Nov. 14, 1903. 
Salmon Fishing in British Columbia 
From file London Fishing Gazette. 
Hearing that large salmon were to be caught off 
the mouth of the Campbell River, in Vancouver Isl- 
and, my wife and I started off to try our luck on Aug. 
20 last. In order to reach this place we had to take 
the steamer, which sails daily from Vancouver to 
Nanaimo, and then change into another from there to 
Comox, where we were to be met by a man who would 
accompany us as guide, cook, etc. We were favored 
with very fine weather, and arrived safely at Comox, a 
small settlement on the east side of the island, which 
was enlivened at the time by having H. M. S. Grafton 
and an attendant torpedo boat lying at anchor there. 
The ships of the Pacific fleet, whose headquarters are 
at Esquimalt, go to Comox for the purpose of mus- 
ketry and big gun practice, and as will be seen, it was 
a lucky occurreu'-e for us their being there. We were 
met by our guide, a son of an Englishman, who had 
come out from "the old country" some years ago, and 
who was living on a "ranche" about fifteen miles from 
Comox. On our way up on the steamer a man and 
his wife had come on board, who turned out to be an 
elder brother of our guide's, so we all joined forces and 
agreed to camp together. From Comox to our fish- 
ing ground was some twenty miles or so up the coast, 
and as the trail only went some eighteen miles, we 
were considering how we were to get all our camp 
equipment, etc., to the required place, when the diffi- 
culty was solved in a most satisfactory and pleasing 
manner. The commander of the torpedo boat heard 
we were wanting to go to Campbell River, and as he 
was under orders to go there himself next morning, 
most kindly offered to take us up, an offer which we 
were only too glad to accept. On reaching our camp- 
ing ground next day, we landed in small boats, and 
soon had our tents up and everything in order. The 
weather was fine, and we heard the fish were running 
well. The method of catching these large fish is as 
follows: You go out in a boat at certain times of the 
tide, and the bait is a huge artificial spoon (about four 
or five inches long). You let out some thirty or forty 
yards of line with heavy leads on it (about one-half 
pound in weight), and this j'ou trail after the boat. 
Although these enormous salmon can be seen rolling 
on the top of the water like porpoises (and I may here 
say that unless they are doing so it is little use fishing), 
unless your line is well weighted and kept flown in the 
water, instead of catching the "tyee," as they are called 
locally, you will catch the smaller kind called "cohoes," 
which run any Aveight from 6 or 7 to 20 pounds. Your 
boat must be kept going at a fair, but not too fast, 
pace, and when one of these "tyee" take the spoon you 
can tell directly. They generally make a first grand 
rush. Perhaps 80 to 100 yards of line go out like 
lightning, and woe betide you if there is any hitch, for 
if there unhappily is a general smash-up ensues. After 
this they stop, and you can get line in, and then they 
generally bore down, which makes a terrible strain on 
the rod. The first "big 'un" I got into I shall not 
readily forget. I had him on exactly forty-seven min- 
utes, and he took me two miles down the coast be- 
fore we could gaff him. Eventually, we got him into 
the boat, and on getting home he weighed 56 pounds. 
His dimensions were: Length, 4 feet 2 inches; girth 
(at shoulders), 2 feet 65^ inches, and his tail was ex- 
actly II inches across. This turned out the biggest fish 
I caught. I got another 44 pounds, and then turned 
my rod over to my Avife. She caught three, which 
weighed just 120 pounds (43, 40 and 37 pounds), not 
bad work for a lady! We lost about a dozen "tyee" 
I should say, and caught some dozen smaller "cohoes" 
— in the week about 450 pounds to 500 pounds of sal- 
mon. One angler there, a Dr. D , who had been 
out every day for a month, caught 94, which weighed 
3.760 pounds — ^just an average of 40 pounds to a fish. 
He caught one 59 pounds, but I believe mine was the 
second largest caught this last season. There were 
some twelve other parties fishing while we were there, 
ana on a good evening I have heard reels screeching 
in all directions. These fish are most excellent eating, 
and luckily, there is no waste, however many you may 
catch, as the Siwashes (Indians) are only too glad to 
have them, as they "smoke" them and use them for 
food in the winter. This fishing, being in salt water, is 
free to anyone who likes to get a boat and go out. 
Of course, this "trailing" is not the sport fly-fishing 
or "spinning" would be, but to get a 40-pound or 50- 
pound salmon on even a spoon-bait is not to be de- 
spised, as because you have hooked him, it by no 
means follows you have caught him. Full of life and 
~igor, they are not yours till in the boat, and the num- 
j,er of spoons left in fish at the mouth of Campbell 
River would be sufficient to start a business. The 
curious thing is directly they leave the salt water, it is 
absolutely useless to fish for them. I was by a pool 
not 300 yards from the actual mouth of the river, full 
of these big fish rolling about, but you might have iust- 
as well tried to catch salmon in the round pond at 
Kensington Gardens as get these fish to look at your 
spoon. There is a little expense attached to this fishing. 
You must have first rate tackle and plenty of it, and 
you must hire a boat, which you can do on the spot 
for $2 (8s.) a day. You want a man to row you about, 
and this is the most expensive portion, as wages are 
so high in this country. I paid mine, who besides row- 
ing me about, cooked for me, looked after the camp, 
etc., $3.50 per dien— in other words, 14s. a day and hi? 
keep. This, of coarse, sounds high, but it must be 
remembered that here the ordinary laborer can get 
$2 (8s.) a day and hi.: S^od. Another thing is that un- 
like salmon fishing \n Scotland, where, perhaps, you 
are paying £60 or^go a month for the right of fishing 
alone, and then may catih next to nothing, here you 
are absolutely certain of tcitching fish that average 40 
pounds. I was told of a fisii of 72 pounds having been 
killed with rod and line, but I cannot vouch for the 
truth of this. All the same, I do not see why this 
should not have been done, as it is impossible to say 
to what weight salmon cai| Qf cannot grow iji §alt 
water. 
Anyway, we had a delightful trip, and enjoyed our- 
selves extremely. After we had had a week of this fish- 
ing I went out into the woods after elk, where, again, I 
was successful, but, as Rudyard Kipling says, that is 
another story. 
I would like to add that all the fish above referred 
to were caught on a rod made by those kell-known 
and first class makers, Messrs. Hardy Bros., Alnwick. 
It was a Greenheart spinning rod, which they call the 
"Murdoch," wYz feet long, and a better rod I never 
handled. My lines, reels, etc., were all from the same 
firm, and gave me every satisfaction, a highly impor- 
tant item when playing a 50-pound salmon. 
W. H. CUNLIFFE. 
Vancouver, British Columbia, October, 1903. 
[It is not often that a lady beats Mrs. Cunliffe's 
three fish, weighing 120 pounds; the 43-pound fish was 
on 37 minutes, and Mrs. Cunliffe had no help what- 
ever, and brought the fish to the gaff herself. Colonel 
Cunliffe ought to have sent her portrait with the fish. 
His 56-pounder is a grand fish. — Editor Fishing Ga- 
zette.] 
Can Fish Count? 
Ma NY of your readers, I think, must at times grow 
weary of detailed lists of fish slain, and occasionally — 
very occasionally — lost, however artfully the catch may 
be seasoned, and, I fear, sometimes cooked, by skilled 
correspondents. Even the success obtained by a new 
pattern on a treble o hook, accurately placed under 
difficulties that would be fatal to an angler less masterly 
than the narrator, fails to awaken keen interest on the 
twentieth, or may be on the thirtieth, repetition, how- 
ever cleverly the scene and accessories may be varied. 
Toujours perdrix, etc. For a wholesome, if homely, 
change of diet I propose, therefore, to send you one of 
many disjointed thoughts that have risen when the 
fish would not rise. It is of small value in itself, but 
touches on a subject dealt with, so far as I am aware, 
by none of our writers on fish and fishing. 
We have had many learned disnuisitions on the senses 
of sight, hearing, and taste in fish; nay, some authori- 
ties have even attributed to them a faint power of 
smell. Facts have been recorded leading us to believe 
they are by no means devoid of memory; but who can 
tell us whether they can count? That some birds can 
count — or, rather, distinguish between one and two or 
more objects — is well known; but they are soon at the 
end of their arithmetic. If two men go into a shooting- 
hut, or hide, together, woodpigeons that have been 
scared will quickly return when one man has come out 
again and gone away. Not so a carrion crow. He 
will not venture till both men have retired. But even 
he cannot count beyond the figure 2. If three men go 
into hiding together and two withdraw, after a short 
interA^al, the crow will fearlessly come back to finish his 
repast, regardless of the planted gunner. My authority 
for this statement is the word of a true sportsman and 
observant naturalist. The behavior of the pigeons has 
come within my own experience. But what of our 
fish? 
More years ago than I should care to mention were 
I not a "mere male," I rented some water on the Test 
at Romsey. A road bounded the water on the right 
bank. Some ten or twelve yards from the road, just 
opposite to a lamp post, a trout had taken up his posi- 
tion. This road was on my nearest way to the railway 
station, and every Monday morning after my week-end 
fishing, I used to pause at the lamp post and watch my 
friend. He took little notice of me, but if I stared too 
long at him he would slowly sink a few inches deeper 
under water. I knew his position to an inch, and, 
creeping on hands and knees on the gritty road, I tried 
more than once to seduce him with the most tempting 
flies — dry, wet, and waterlogged. In vain! After many 
failures I thirsted for the blood of that fish! One day 
T was walking with a friend, who was fishing with me. 
We paused, as usual, at the lamp post and gazed long- 
ingly, but not lovingly, at the trout. By chance a good 
fish rose some forty yards higher up stream, and my 
friend hurried off to cast for it. As he left I drew 
back quietly into the middle of the road, and, without 
even taking the trouble to kneel down, cast carelessly 
over my other friend. He took it with as little hesi- 
tation as a city magnate would have shown in swallow- 
ing an oyster before the late typhoid scare. 
Many years afterward I was fishing on the Leach, in 
Gloucestershire. A path ran by the river side. At one 
noint the path passed over a culvert close to the stream. 
This was the only way across a wide ditch at right 
angles to the river. In crossing this culvert I con- 
stantly put down a good fish. Trees and bushes made 
it impossible — for me, at any rate — to cover this fish 
until I had crossed the culvert. One day I crossed it 
in company with a farmer, who was going to a meadow 
further on. The fish, as usual, made for the nearest 
weed, as the water was too shallow to admit of his 
sinking, until we had passed. Remembering my ex- 
perience at Romsey, I bid the farmer "Good day," and 
walked inland some fifteen yards from the water. After 
waiting ten minutes or so I crept on my knees within 
drifting distance of the fish, and was rewarded by a 
tight line. Two facts are not sufficient grounds on 
which to build a theory, but were they mere accidents, 
or can fish count? — Basil Field in London Field. 
Ondnnati Angflers. 
Cincinnati, Nov. 7. — Mr. T. J. Mulvihill and Mr. 
J. H. Duncan fished this season in Stoney Lake, near 
Burleigh Falls, Can. Evidence of the sport they had 
and their skill as anglers may be seen in a store win- 
dow on Government Square, where two large speci- 
mens of muscalonge are on exhibition. The fish were 
caught on Sept. 17 and r8, are three feet long and 
weigh about 23 pounds. Mr. Duncan's fish, taken on 
the ipth, was a trifle the larger pf the two. 
: ■ " ■ ®" p, p. E. 
A Flatboat's Long Voyage. 
Moored for a few days' rest before resuming her 
course in the Mississippi currents to her destination 
at New Orleans, the "shanty," or trading boat, Sar- 
gassa, which, with her captain and a crew of three able- 
bodied rivermen, has come from the faraway Yellow- 
stone, 500 miles beyond the source of the Missouri, 
her owner bargaining with Indians and white, collect- 
ing buffalo horns, old iron, junk of every description, 
for sale to St. Louis, Kansas City, Memphis and New 
Orleans dealers. 
Borne as the eddying currents might dictate, pro- 
pelled at times by hand, vainly endeavoring to avoid 
the shifting sandbars, the drifting snags, and the wire 
ferries which span the upper rivers, the Sargassa has 
been nearly six months doing her 2,000 miles from Bill- 
ings, Mont., to St. Louis. Altogether, more than 
3,000 miles will be covered. 
Captain Henry C. Sharpless, the owner of the Sar- 
gassa, has many strange things to tell of that long, but 
to him, never tiresome journey. For days the little 
boat plunged down the swiftly flowing Yellowstone, 
upon which no steamboat plies, and where for a week 
at a time no human being was to be seen. 
Drifting on to sandbars in the "Big Muddy," where 
at times the captain was compelled to discharge tons 
of freight in order to release the boat, then to lay by 
for days to regain his cargo, the Sargassa's crew had 
plenty to occupy them all the time. 
"Of course, we had to lay up every night. It was 
hard enough to get along in daytime," said Ciiptain 
Sharpless yesterday. "We never grew weary, how- 
ever. We would go out and chase rabbits, and some 
times lay off for a day or two along the Yellowstone 
to hunt bigger game. There was plenty of elk and 
game of all sorts, rainbow trou*- and ripening nuts, so 
we never suffered for good food. 
"The Yellowstone is a magnificent country for scen- 
ery, and the current swept us along at a five-mile-an- 
hour gait past the white-capped Crazy Moimtains and 
Big Horns. We enjoyed even the loneliness of the 
region. When we would come to some little trading 
place or postoffice settlement, the people would come 
out as though we were an entire circus outfit. They 
were glad to trade and glad to talk. 
"When we struck the 'Big Muddy' at Fort Buford, 
N. D., things began to get more ragged. We thought 
we had passed all the wire ferries on the Yellowstone, 
and from the temporary tents we had used til) then 
we moved into a newly constructed 'shanty,' built at 
the stern of the boat, which was cabin and galley in 
one. We were fooled about the wire ferries, however, 
and one day, without ten minutes' notice, we saw one 
of the things stretching out ahead of us with a strong 
current bearing us down upon it. There was some 
scrambling among the crew. We finally got one of 
our big oars under the wire and got it on deck. Then 
the current gave us a twist, and the wire and the crew 
got in a tangle, and the first thing I knew I was lying 
in a heap in the scrap pile. We got past it at last, but 
there was some 'river talk' on board that boat that 
would not look well in print. 
"Up at a spot they call De Gray, on the upper Mis- 
sissippi, we got on the worst bar of the trip, and it 
was not until we had thrown about seventy-five tons 
of stuff overboard that we got afloat. We managed to 
get some skiffs and fish about sixty tons of it back. 
That took about a week." 
Captain Sharpless makes flat boating pay. He dis- 
posed of about 100 tons of material at Kansas City for 
$14 a ton, and will have no trouble in getting equally 
good prices for what he has left. 
As soon as he unloads here he will start out for 
Memphis and will have picked up another boatload of 
junk to sell there. He will then have a third cargo to 
pick up for sale in New Orleans. 
Captain Sharpless is from a Philadelphia Quaker 
family, and has been on the Western rivers nearly all 
his life. — St. Louis Republic. 
The Tuna Club Tournament. 
AvALON, Cal, Nov. I.— We have angling tournaments 
in many countries, but possibly the one started and car- 
ried on every year by the Tuna Club of Santa Catalina 
Island, California, is the most interesting, inasmuch as it 
was suggested to educate that unpopular person, the 
"game hog." From 80,000 to 100,000 people visit this 
island eveiy year, and among such a swarm of anglers 
many will, of course, be ignorant of the methods of hon- 
orable fishing and try for all they can catch, resulting 
in over catching. The club established a series of rules, 
one of which was that rods alone should be used, and 
lines not over 21 strand; this, as was the object, pre- 
vented the public from using hand lines by which they 
could haul in big fish rapidly, and forced them to use the 
light tackle by which it took from fifteen to l:hirty min- 
utes to land a twenty-pound fish. In a word, it kept the 
"game hog" at work on one fish, when with the_ hand 
line he could catch tour or six. Of course this is not 
a complete undoing for the non-sportsraari-like angler, 
but it reduces the catch. The club gives the tournaments 
to encourage the use of the lightest tackle for big game 
fishes, and as a result among the one hundred or more 
boatmen of Avalon every one has a fine equipment of 
rods and fine lines, and as no records or prizes can be 
obtained with anything else, the hand line is not known 
at Santa Catalina, and the game hog, if he Avill be one, 
is obliged to work and work hard for the prey which 
constitutes his big string. The tournaments last from 
May until November, and the prizes for the tournament 
of 1903 are as follows: 
For first tuna of the season, H. E. Smith, of New York, 
received a fine agate-tipped rod. The score for largest 
tuna of the season, for which Montgomery Eros., jew- 
elers, of Los Angeles, offered a special silver cup, was 
tied, H. E. Smith, of New York city, and B. F. Alden, of 
Chicago, each taking one weighing 94 pounds. They 
will each have their names inscribed in the cup. 
For smallest tuna, H. L. Packardj qf Pakersft^Wj Qai-, 
was awarde4 a rod. 
