£86 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Oct. i, 1904. 
in almost every part of Northern Quebec, for rich in 
their fish supply as are most of the rivers and lakes to 
be here met with, it not infrequently happens that the 
explorer stumbles upon new waters which Dame Nature 
has apparently overlooked entirely, when so lavishly 
distributing her wealth of fish life in Canadian waters. 
It may be that no waterfowl, such as those which were 
responsible, perhaps, for the original planting of trout 
spawn in neighboring lakes, have dropped the fertilized 
eggs of fontinalis from either their mouths or legs, into 
these comparatively barren waters, and as they are 
shut off from any direct communication with other 
waters containing trout, they are still uninvaded by the 
monsters of the brook. 
Dr. Morris and Mr. McKinney explored many waters 
teeming with fish food, but without the game fish which 
might subsist upon it; and the result of their observa- 
tions is likely to lead in the near future to the planting 
of useful varieties whet e they do not now exist at all. There 
are some waters on this tract which are apparently well 
adapted for the support of puananiche, and if these can 
be procured, they will probably be introduced into them, 
after the planting of either ciscoes, smelt or suckers 
as additional food for them. I am inclined to think that 
it might be better to try the Atlantic salmon itself in 
these waters. It would undoubtedly become somewhat 
dwarfed from inability to descend to salt water, but 
world probably, for at least some generations to come, 
retain a greater bulk and a more gamy nature than the 
ouananiche into which it would undoubtedly degenerate 
in future ages. And except for the wicked designs -f 
evil men, there is no good reason why the St. Anne 
River, which flows through a good portion of the 
Tourilli tract, should not be made again what it once 
was — a good salmon river. Fishways would have, of 
course, to be erected at the different milldams, and saw- 
mill men would have to be made to observe the law 
prohibiting the dropping of sawdust or other mill re- 
fuse into the river; and, necessarily, the stream would 
have to be carefully guarded from its mouth up. 
E. T. D. Chambers. 
Belgrade and Some Digression. 
Editor Forest and Stream : 
"The best black bass fishing in the world" was on 
the letter heads of the paper furnished by the pro- 
prietor of the Belgrade, located on the Belgrade chain 
of lakes in the State of Maine. We were somewhat 
skeptical when we first saw the statement and wrote for 
a b.ll of particulars, but Mr. Hill answered and said 
he n eant small-mouth black bass, and that you really 
couldn't expect to get the best black bass fishing with- 
out the presence of M. dolomieu; so we decided to give 
Belgrade a chance to "make good" and incidentally 
find out if the hotel was as comfortable as it looked 
in the picture. 
Thus in the early part of July two anglers left the 
cares of home and business for what proved to be one 
of the most enjoyable and well spent of vacations. 
Suffice it to say, that the verdict is that Belgrade de- 
serves the praise meted out by the letter head, and that 
we fo..nd everything Ai at the hotel, except closet room 
— but that is another story. 
Fishing at Belgrade, by the intervention of the bait- 
man, the boat and the guide, is reduced to the simple 
formula of sitting in a chair and playing a bass. That 
is all vou are actually required to do, and if ever that 
becomes too tiresome, the guide will play the fish for 
you while you simply hold down the chair. All this is 
brought about by the fact that the bait-man always has 
bait, and plenty of it, the boat is the best of its kind, 
and the guide, after you are seated in your chair, rows 
the boat, selects the fishing ground, drops the anchor, 
takes up your rod, baits the hook, makes the cast, nets 
the fish, takes it off the hook, and then repeats; as a 
matter of fact, if yOu need exercise, don't go to Bel- 
grade, for in angling there you can't get more than I 
have outlined, except at the risk of becoming unpopu- 
] r with the guides; they need the exercise themselves, 
and besides, if they are not allowed to work off a little 
of their latent energy, they become more talkative than 
the village barber. They told us, however, that in mid- 
Ausrust the bass are not all over the lake, as in July, 
but" are found in deeper water, and in certain places 
only. August, then, is the time to fish, for the guide 
can find his exercise at the killeck and the oars, and 
verbaps at times waive the unwritten law and allow you 
to b" it your own hook and make a cast. 
Angling at Belgrade is precisely like business, a daily 
occupation; however, in business you go to work be- 
cause you l ave to, and hate to miss a day because it 
costs money; in angling on Grand Lake you start out 
every morning because you want to and cannot resist, 
and you dislike to miss a day because it would cost you 
peace of mind, and the thought that the other fellow 
might come in at night with a big one. 
We knew we were ico per cent, daft over fishing 
when we left New York, but we found a hotel full of 
people just like us, and even worse, and we were 150 
per cent, daft after the first day's fishing. We met 
men who had been there six weeks and even longer 
without missing even a part of a day on the lakes; it 
takes good fishing and plenty of it to hold thus even 
an Izaak Walton. ■ ' ' . 
The fishing regulations afford a fine example of wise 
and timely legislation, and we are undoubtedly in- 
debted to this legislation for the really great fishing that 
the lakes afford, and the fact that the small-mouth bass 
is certainly on the increase. 
A number of years ago when market fishermen on 
these lakes were shipping bass to market by the bar- 
rel, and each angler was doing what most of his 
brothers did— catching large quantities of bass and 
bringing the catch ashore and then abandoning the 
fish at the boat house, so that it became necessary to 
employ a man whose sole duty it was to clear out the 
boats and remove the dead fish, a law was passed 
which abruptly stopped the nefarious work of destruc- 
iton and saved the fishing. The feeders of_ the lakes 
were ail made closed streams and the retained catch 
per person was limitsd to Ion fish per- day, all fish be- 
yond that number to be returned to the water; The 
result now is that practically no fish are brought in, 
and all fish are returned to the water alive except the 
few that are eaten on shore at lunch hour; the guides 
use disgorgers, and very few fish die by the hook. 
Natives and visiting anglers all seem to appreciate what 
the law has done and is doing, and take a genuine pride 
in the enforcement. 
The angling community at Belgrade was made up of 
numerous types; many seek the pleasures of the gentle 
art, but each one seeketh in his own peculiar way and 
holdeth views which are in many cases peculiarly his 
own. The great line of demarkation is that which 
divides the fly-fisherman and the bait-fisherman. From 
this we deduce modified types and the first classifica- 
tion would be as follows: 
(1) Fly-fisherman. 
(2) Fly-fisherman and bait-fisherman. 
(3) Bait-fisherman. 
(4) Plain plugger. 
In the first class we find men who never fish with 
anything but the fly, and who are the real simon-pure, 
unadulterated fly-fishermen, to whom the word bait is 
positively distasteful, like a dose of rhubarb and soda 
to the child. The gentlemen who have reached this 
high estate can climb no higher in piscatorial altitudes; 
they can breathe no more rarified atmosphere; they 
stand on the summit and look down with pity on their 
brethren who are groping below. However, he who 
uses a fly is not always of Class 1, for, like the summer 
man, who later returns to the ribbon counter, the 
angler who flirts a fly in your presence may not be able 
to cast, or he may have a box of frail blood worms in 
his coat-tail pocket, and backslide when beyond your 
observation. 
The other three classes speak for themselves, and are 
more easily identified. 
We met many anglers at Belgrade, but few of the first 
class; most of the gentlemen whose peculiarities were 
observed formed part of a large flotilla of bait-fishermen 
and plain pluggers, who daily cast and plugged in the 
waters of Grand Lake with the dainty frog, the delicate 
shiner, the elusive grasshopper and often with the 
timid night-walker. 
First and foremost, there is an impression of an 
Episcopal clergyman, High Church, but a plugger. Every 
morning he could well say, like Peter, "I go a-fishing." 
He was continually on the move unless the fish were 
biting particularly well, and he never stayed longer 
than five minutes in one place, except under very 
favorable conditions. Being anxious to get the bait 
down to the bottom without waste of time, he used 
a heavy sinker. Somehow, the hook and sinker not 
only found the bottom quickly, but very often seemed to 
cling to the resting place with malice aforethought. 
When these periods of unwonted tenacity arrived, he 
vainly attempted to pull everything into the boat or (as 
the guides put it), "tried to land the State of Maine." 
I can see him now — in action at such a crisis — vio- 
lently pulling and hauling, switching the water into 
foam, working his arms up and down as rapidly as 
the piston-rod in an engine, and finally desisting from 
sheer exhaustion. I can see the guide take the line 
gently in his hand over the side of the boat, hold it 
taut, thrum it a few times, and release the tortured 
hook without commotion, and peace would again pre- 
side over the house; like some young medical men, 
the bishop had no patience. 
There was also a professional man who caught few 
fish, but never missed a strike. He always gave the 
fish plenty of time to gorge, the time allowance vary- 
ing with the bait. His schedule ran about as follows: 
Ten minutes for an ordinary worm, fifteen for a frog 
and twenty-five for a minnow. It really paid to fish in 
his neighborhood and see him in action, complacently 
paying out yard after yard of line from the reel, while 
the bass rambled and rambled, and then to see with 
what patience he lit his pipe and smoked away the 
minutes while the fish swallowed and gorged and gorged 
and swallowed. At last, when the accepted time had 
arrived, he would "soak it to 'em" in villainous glee, 
and unless the leader had become digested or the line 
gave way, the victim was bound to come to boat with 
the hook firmly imbedded deep in the interior of the 
tail. The surgical operations that took place in the 
doctor's boat, with the guide as the surgeon, the dis- 
gorger as the sole instrument and the doctor as the 
impatient clinic, certainly rivalled anything in the realm 
of surgery — appendicitis wasn't in it at all. Little did 
you know, good doctor, that the "doctor's time" be- 
came a byword among us, and after missing several 
strikes, we would vow to give the "doctor's time" on 
the next bite. 
One man in the community fished entirely with a fly, 
but as a fly-caster he was far from a success; his guide 
agreed on that point after feeling the hook. He used 
the fly-rod in much the same manner as an angry 
parent; the atmosphere was always warm in the neigh- 
borhood of his boat, and the water roiled and foam- 
flecked. When the baby bass, who ranged along shore 
in the vicinity of his casts, saw or felt the combined 
agitation produced on the water by the swaying boat 
and seething line, they tarried not — it was a case of 
action equal to reaction, and in the opposite direction. 
He wore out many flies, but not by rises — fast travel- 
ing over the surface and rapid maneuvering through 
space were the annihilating factors. He also lost many 
flies, taken by heavy fish. One such tragedy came 
within my observation. Being much interested in cal- 
isthenics, we were watching our friend, as, with regular- 
ity of action and rhythmic sweep he whipped the water. 
Suddenly, while attempting to jerk the flies from the 
water, they appeared to be victims of stoppage in 
transitu, the rod doubled and then sprang back; the 
fly and leader had parted. We were then within talking 
distance, and this conversation took place: "Lost 
him! That was a fine rise! Fully three pounds! Tore 
the fly right off." We expressed sympathy, and as our 
boat slowly pulled along over the memorable spot 
where the rise occurred, Bradley quietly slipped his 
hand over into the shallow water and picked up the 
fly. which had caught on a rock. 
When our genial friend told that night about the 
three-pounder that ravenously rose to and ruthlessly 
made off with the Parmachenee-belle, I again sympa- 
thized, but told not, for I knew that such delusions 
were the sustaining factors in his angling, and that 
without them he could not find sufficient moral support 
to keep on with the daily round. 
Then there was a man who caught the five-pounder 
and immediately became "chesty" and had to give away 
all his headgear. He was a good man and a gentleman 
until he caught that fish; but during the rest of his 
sojourn he conversed only with celebrities, ate lunch 
alone with his guide, wore a Tuxedo to dinner and 
cut down the waiter's allowance because that dignitary 
failed to rise to the occasion and fan the requisite 
amount of oxygen. After he left us his guide thought 
it about time to come out into the lime-light and tell 
how he hooked and landed the fish while his client 
was peacefully slumbering on shore. 
Two men in a boat anchored near us one afternoon. 
The fish were biting well, but it was plain that the 
gentlemen had not fished before. They had been lucky 
in their shopping, however, and had evidently kept 
away from Vesey street and department stores, for their 
tackle was all right. Gracious! how they angled! The 
more portly of the two was able to make a cast of 
six feet, measuring at right angles from the vest line, 
while his comrade fairly reveled in casts of ten feet, 
provided his friend was quiet and the guide ducked 
at the proper moment. After the hooks were in the 
water, it became a set-line festivity, and the only fish 
captured hooked itself, and then signalled to be pulled 
in. Oh, the promising young frogs that gave up their 
lives in vain; all because our friends had yet to learn 
that to hook a bass you must "soak him." 
Eddie B., one of the meekest of all the non-strenu- 
ous guides and the holder of the village reputation for 
patience, took out two anglers for their first day's fish- 
ing. That night Eddie's patrons reported that he had 
used violent language and that they had dispensed with 
his services. 
We looked up Eddie, and found him in the drug store 
buying anti-stiff, and a patent medicine strongly recom- 
mended by the druggist and known as "Old Doctor 
Ripley's Resurgent Re-invigorator or Imbricated In- 
dian Tonic." Between gasps and in a weak voice, Ed- 
die submitted the following brief: "I only swore once, 
and then I cussed real solid. I took 'em to the ledges 
(two miles) and they fished three minutes, and then 
we went to Pinkham's Cove (four miles) ; they did not 
like it there because the bog was unhealthy; then we 
fished to Chutes Island (five miles), and on the way 
ever, the man asked me if had ever rowed a boat much 
before. We went ashore, and I built a fire and was 
tryin' out the pork, when the woman saw a spider, and 
we had to move away. I put out the fire, put things in 
the boat, and she said: 'Let's go over to that pine 
grove just over there' (just over there was three miles). 
Well, I cooked dinner, and he said it would be better 
to bring a cold lunch next time and eat in the boat; 
then I rowed 'em to White Horse Shoals (four miles) 
and to Rome Shoals (two miles). When we got to 
Rome they were sure Mr. Fairchild and Dr. Paxton 
were catching big ones down by the Point, so I rowed 
there, and then they wanted to go to Upper Hoyt's 
Island (six miles). Well, I'd just started rowin', when 
the woman said, 'Now, Mr. B., it's getting late, let's see 
how fast you can row.' Then, then," said Eddie, "I 
just cut out and I cussed. I'd been savin' up for a 
spell, and I let out pretty solid." 
It is perhaps needless to say that the lover of nature 
was present at Belgrade, for all anglers are as a rule 
nature levers, and given to draining the cup of individual 
communion. 
Love affects persons in many ways, but usually the 
tongue remains passive while the heart and soul wax en- 
ergetic' One man among us combined the attributes of 
both Cyrano de Bergerac and Christian, and his soul and 
vocal chords seemed to. work in close harmony with 
nature at all times. That man could "see things" in 
nature that the old dame herself never dreamed she pos- 
sessed. His after luncheon nature fests will always be 
remembered. Kenn eth Fowler. 
Snappers Near New Ycrk. 
Prince's Bay, Staten Island, N. Y., Sept. 21.— Good 
bluefishing can be had now at Prince's Bay, Staten 
Island. This may sound large and leaning to a fish 
story, but it's a fact. Do not get your sailboat and troll- 
ing lines and squids ready; you will not need them. Go 
and stand on the dock and you can catch all you care for, 
and some to give away. Leave your clumsy old ^sh-pole 
at home, and use a light bait-rod. Trout tackle is just 
the thing, with a hook just large enough to hold a small 
spearing. The fish run from six inches to a foot in 
length, and are gamy to the last, giving a light outfit all 
it can do. Now and then a mackerel comes along and 
puts up a stiff argument. Two or three were caught 
from the dock this morning, and they are not to be 
despised. But the large "snappers," as the young bluefish 
are called, give the most sport. The bait can be pro- 
cured at several places near-by. If anyone wants a little 
fun with light tackle, now is the time. Besides giving 
the sport, the fish are good to eat; they are as good a 
pan fish as can be caug ht. *** 
Another 100 Sportsmen's finds. 
Some of the Queer Discoveries Made fay Those "Who Are 
Looking for Game or Fish. 
103 
No. 102 was of an American who fished up a miniature 
British cannon in the Niagara river. Here is one of an 
Englishman who fished up an American rifle in British 
waters. Mr. William Hearder, of Plymouth, writes to 
the London Fishing Gazette: "One of our fishermen on 
Saturday, while hauling a spiller which he had laid for 
conger, was surprised to see the butt of a rifle come up 
in his face. The hook caught in the trigger guard; it 
was an old breechloader of the Remington type, and al- 
though the butt is rather worm-eaten and the barrel 
covered with crustacea and barnacles, the hammer and 
spring are perfect." 
