856 l^^^ ^^ y^^ j^ FOREST AND STREAM. 
Obadiah the Fisherman. 
Old man Mooney lived near the school house; his 
house was the last in the settlement before the road ran 
into the woods. A tall lank man he could walk faster 
than any man with whom I have ever tramped. His 
fame as a bear hunter had traveled far through the coun- 
try of the East Branch. In fact there is but little doubt 
that this. reputation brought to him the office of Justice of 
the Peace. He did not hesitate to admit that he knew 
more about bears than he did about the ways of courts ; 
but he was honest, and that means a good deal in a 
judge. 
Obadiah Mooney, as can be readily guessed, was old 
manMooney's son; and if he was not old enough to fol- 
low in his father's long strides after bears, he, too, had a 
bloated reputation. Looking back at this repute from 
the fair vantage of some years, I can now see that the 
father's laudation was an important factor in the son's 
fame. Be this as it may, Obadiah was known all over 
the valley as a remarkable trout fisher. 
We first heard of this youthful prodigy at the time the 
good Dominie joined us for two weeks of angling. On 
that trip we boarded with the Miller family, who lived 
not far from Obadiah's home. 
Three constituted our party, and leaving myself out 
of account — it is proper for an angler to be modest — my 
friends were certainly very good fishermen. But some- 
how our luck was poor. The water was low, and this in 
a measure was the reason for our lack of success; but 
taking this into account, we could hardly claim to be do- 
ing even_ decent work. Day after day we cast our flies 
with praiseworthy industry, but the results were meagre 
and far from satisfactory. 
It was certainly hard enough to have such luck, but to 
come home with but a few smallish fish and hear tales of 
monsters caught by another, and that other a little, thin- 
legged boy, was really too much to be patiently borne. 
Our host would placidly remark after supper, on the 
porch, where we fishers were resting in a row of dis- 
gruntled failure : "Mooney says Obadiah got a big one 
in the mill-pond to-day;" or, "Obadiah caught a pailful 
of big trout last night, so Mooney tells me ;" or, perhaps, 
"That big fish Obadiah got on chub bait, his pa says, 
was thirteen inches long." Was Obadiah a virtuoso with 
the rod, or were these tales somewhat legendary? 
At last my friend confided to me, in the narrow bed we 
jointly occupied at the top of the Miller farmhouse, 
"This Obadiah business is getting stale and unprofitable, 
and I for one am heartily sick of him and his trout." 
"What are you going to do about it?" asked I, from 
under the offside of "Marm" Miller's lumpy comfortable. 
"Just this much — I am going to blast that overgrown 
fame ; I am going to shoot an arrow into that bubble of a 
reputation. We will offer Obadiah, or Obie, as his pa 
calls him, fair compensation to take us fishing. We will 
let him choose the day, and I will be near him and see 
once and for all if he is the wonderful fisherman we have 
been told or if his pa — " "Don't say it," interrupted I. 
"All fathers are inclined to exalt the virtues and the 
abilities of their sons, and I doubt not that when the day 
comes, we, including the Dominie, will go way back and 
; sit down among the willows." 
"I don't believe it," said my bed-fellow. "Rather 
Obadiah himself will hang his fish-pole on a tree, and 
hang his head in disgrace below the willows." 
The following morning proved to be bright and clear ; 
and strange enough, before breakfast, Obadiah was seen 
with a boy companion before the house. Fate had sent 
him fairly into our hands. My friend conducted the 
negotiations. 
"Good morning, Obadiah," said he. "What brings you 
so early in this direction?" 
"Wal, Mister Palmer, you see that pesky old heifer is 
-strollin' ; pa allows she ain't below." 
"I hear you are catching some big trout, Obie, and that 
must mean you are an almighty good little fisherman." 
"Wal, you see, Mister Palmer, we here fellers livin' 
along the crik knows where they be." 
"Yes,. I see, and my friends have been wondering if 
you would take us fishing; we have not had very good 
luck this trip; of course we will be glad to pay you for 
your trouble." 
I had been watching the bright-faced little fellow, and 
did not fail to note the keen look that passed over his 
face. 
"Wal, Mr. Palmer, it's like this : some days trout bite, 
and some days they don't; to-day is awful poor." 
"You shall choose your own day, Obie, and we shall 
be here until the end of the week." 
Again I saw that conscious look on his face : He 
seemed embarrassed, and turned his bare toes over one 
another as he directed his eyes to the ground. 
"Wal, p'haps I might, and p'haps I mightn't; pa's 
kinder busy just. now." He looked down for a moment 
and then continued. "It's kinder hard to get chub bait." 
"I will ask your father, Obie, and we will provide 
worms and chub, too, if you wish them." 
After Obadiah had made his somewhat troubled depar- 
ture, I asked my friend if he thought the boy would go 
with us. ..... 
"Not if he can get out of it," he answered. "He is in 
no hurry to blight his shining reputation." 
Old man Mooney, like most of us, needed money, and 
when it was told him that we would pay what in that 
country was a liberal price for his boy's services, we saw 
that he was willing to barter Obadiah's fame/for ready 
cash. 
Toward the end of the week a day came with every 
sign of a good fishing day. Fleecy clouds hanging low 
over Moon Hill; soft southern breezes snowing the- 
stream with the pollen of the willows, and lifting mists 
in the valley, all gave token that if you could catch trout 
you should be at the river side. 
My friend ate his breakfast hastily and left us, saying 
that he was "going below to capture Obie, and would 
meet us at the bridge." 
T was almost willing to wager odds that Obie would 
evade him, but when Dominie and I arrived at the bridge, 
Palmer and Obadiah were already there. 
From personal observation, I cannot tell much of 
Obadiah's methods; I let my friend attend the young 
fisherman, and left them to use my best skill, that Oba- 
diah should haye at least one fivaC 
Fishing up stream, and using small flies, I was for- 
tunate enough to have a fairly successful morning. 
An old pine tree down the stream had been fixed as our 
place of meeting at noontime. As I approached this 
place I heard excited voices, and the thought passed 
through my mind, "Obadiah has hold of a big one." But 
when I came out on the bank of the stream, my friend 
was guiding a fine fish into the landing-net held by Obie. 
When the big trout had been landed, and Obadiah did 
not show over much skill, I asked my friend the result 
of the morning's experiment. 
"Do not say anything to Obie," said he, "he is feeling 
a little uncomfortable. No, he has not done much, and I 
fear that his reputation is much blasted." 
When I had an opportunity to look into the boy's creel, 
I saw a few little fingerlings; fish such as we always re- 
turned to the water. 
The Dominie had gone alone down the stream that 
morning, not being very much interested in the efforts 
of the prodigy. When he approached, he showed some 
fine trout." In fact, when we compared notes, all of us, 
with the; exception of Obadiah, had done .very well 
indeed. '; 
Obadiah ate luncheon with us, but it was with an in- 
jured bearing. He partook of some of the best fish, baked 
under the coals, after the recipe of Thaddeus Norris, 
but he showed somehow that they were not appreciated. 
Nor did he seem particularly interested in hearing about 
the big fellow the Dominie caught on a ginger hackle, 
nor of my io-incher that swam under a log. He was a 
subdued, disgusted, almost morose, little boy. 
After his luncheon, he said: "Pa's goin' to mend the 
chicken yard— maybe he needs me." We paid his fee for 
showing us how to fish. 
As his bare legs disappeared around the bend of the 
road, my friend remarked : "There goes the youthful 
wonder ; and I tell you now that although old man 
Mooney is Justice of the Peace; although, doubtless, he 
is a great bear hunter; although, likely enough, as you 
say, he can walk faster than a horse can trot ; yet with all 
these honors and excellences he is a colossal old — " 
"Don't say it," interposed the Dominie. "Surely it is 
victory enough to know that with only flies we can catch 
more and much larger trout than the country boy, who 
has his torn hat, bare feet, freckled face, sapling pole, 
cotton line, pin hook, and angleworm. Just think of it, 
man!" continued he, "this morning we have exploded a 
theory which has been accepted from the time when the 
first country editor — was he Cicero? — wanted more copy, 
and threw the now rank old tale into his gaping column. 
Why, I tell you," shouted he with enthusiasm, "you little 
know what service we have rendered to fly-fishermen yet 
in their cradles. As for Obadiah," and here he stopped 
for a moment to change his dropper fly for a blue dun, 
"we shall hear on our future visits little enough about his 
exploits with the rod." 
The words of the Dominie proved prophetic. It is 
many years since the youthful Hector of the East Branch 
was of necessity made to bow down to the bamboo rod, 
silken line, and mimic fly. When I last visited that spot, 
a young country belle informed my wife that old man 
Mooney said "Obie was the best b'ar hunter on the crik — 
onless it be I." Later I bought a wildcat skin said to 
have been shot by Obadiah's rifle. On my fishing trips to 
that country I hear no more stories of Obie's wonderful 
skill with the sapling-pole. 
But I do hear, occasionally, tales of other little boys 
and their exploits with the cotton string and angleworm. 
It is hard to down a pleasing fiction, and the skillful 
in any art have always their detractors. So I suppose 
the alleged superiority of the bare-foot country boy and 
the pin hook will continue to interest the ignorant and 
delight the critical. But I have done my little to show 
the matter in its true colors. 
If I have felt obliged to make public that which 
Obadiah would have preferred to remain secret, I hope 
he will excuse me. At all events his reputation is now 
that of a "b'ar hunter," and he no longer seems to care 
for fishing. Gardner Ladd Plumley. 
Landlocked Smolts and Restigouche 
Salmon. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In your issue of December 10, your contributor, E. T. 
D. Chambers, has an olla podrida of landlocked smolts, 
Restigouche salmon and fishculture in Canada, made up 
_of extracts from the Reports of Prof. Prince and the 
managers of several hatching houses. When Mr. Cham- 
bers discourses of matters he understands, there is no 
more interesting or instructive contributor to your maga- 
zine; but when he deals with matters of mere hearsay 
and incredible fish stories, adopts them as truths, and 
proceeds to theorize on them, he not only loses his own 
way, but leads his readers as far astray as he generally 
gets himself. 
The present writer has been familiar with all the lakes 
around Sussex for over fifty years ; for the last fifteen 
years he has resided within a few miles of them. There 
is not one that contains trout he has not fished many 
times. The group of lakes into one of which the salmon 
fry- were dumped by Mr. Sheasgreen, is the source of 
Big Salmon River, debouching into the Bay of Fundy at 
St. Martin's. This was, in the writer's youth, the best 
salmon river east of St. John, and it is yet the resort of a 
considerable number which spawn in the upper reaches of 
its waters. Ever since the writer first fished these lakes 
in 1852, he has caught parr in the streams connecting 
them, just as they are still caught every season in Trout 
Brook and Smith's Creek, considerable streams flowing 
into the Kennebecais, formerly the best salmon river in 
King's county. . 
In all his long experience as an angler, the writer never 
caught a salmon parr or smolt confined in a lake teem- 
ing with trout running from half a pound to two pounds 
in weight, and it is most surprising news to him that in 
Pleasant Lake, where 25,000 salmon fry are said to have 
been confined by "an arrangement made to prevent the 
fish from escaping," the water is so "alive with them" 
that "one rod caught fifty in a day." For the last five 
years the writer has been seeking to get a specimen of 
these young salmon "ten inches in length;" but he has 
not yet succeeded, though he is on intimate terms with 
[Bsc $1, 2©e>4„ 
several of the club controlling the waters. Until he sees 
™ Sm £i! en from this lake ' he is for ced to believe that 
Mr. Chambers swallowed a fish story that confutes itself. 
Respecting the steady decrease in the stock of Resti- 
gouche salmon, which the hatchery men and guardians 
stoutly deny, and which Mr. Chambers disposes of by 
saying "that there is no present reason to fear for the 
future welfare of the salmon fisheries of the Resti- 
gouche," the writer would refer to official Reports of the 
Fisheries Department at Ottawa. That for 1874, the year 
the hatchery was started, gives the catch in the Resti- 
gouche district below and above Dalhousie— that is, on 
the coast and in the river— as 678,500 pounds ; the report 
for 1903 gives the catch in the same district as 304,000 
pounds, considerably less than half. In the interim, 
39,486,000 young salmon had been planted in the waters 
of the district. 
Were the decrease confined to the Restigouche alone 
we might still hope; but the Miramichi, the greatest 
salmon river in New Brunswick, shows a still more 
serious falling off in the catch. In 1874, the year the 
hatchery was started, the catch of salmon in Northum- 
berland county was 1,311,798 pounds; in 1902 it was 
373.O0O pounds. In the interim 30,390,000 young salmon 
had been planted in the rivers of the county. In St. 
John and the counties through which the river runs, the 
catch in 1874 was 539,200 pounds ; in 1902 it was 336,025 
pounds. In the interim 59,410,200 young salmon had 
been planted from the hatchery. 
The catch in the whole Province in 1874 was 3,214,182 
pounds ; in 1902 it was 1,456,175 pounds. In the interim 
129,286,200 young salmon had been planted from the three 
Provincial hatcheries. I will spare Mr. Chambers any 
comments on these facts and figures ; he and your readers 
will be able to draw their own conclusions. 
The O ld Angler. 
Fiddlers for Bait. 
Speaking of fiddler crabs as bait for blackfish or 
tautog, a well-informed correspondent writes: "There 
are chinabacks in multitudes. I believe it would be no 
trouble to catch a bushel in half an hour by making two 
boards into a V-shaped plow like those used to break 
rows in the country, put a bag over the small end, and 
drive them in. They go in armies down there. I have 
my man catch a lot in early summer and keep them in 
the boat house, and they breed like rabbits; and such 
fishing ! Why, Japan and Russia are not in it for slaugh- 
ter, and still the tribe increases. They can clean raw 
meat from bones better than dogs, and polish them as 
with an emery cloth. Sure they are the bait for black- 
fish. The cunner is a nuisance, but must be of some use 
or there would not be so many of them. Fairly good eat- 
ing, and have seen them weighing over two pounds each 
caught on the fishing banks outside Sandy Hook. One 
thing is sure, they tend to develop patience, for they 
can steal bait to beat the band, though while developing 
patience they provoke strenuous expletives." 
The same writer says : 
"You should take a trip in the early spring on the 
Harlem branch of the N. Y. N. H. & H. R. R. in the 
evening. A train comes down just after dark, and one 
car is about filled with fishermen, who have been after 
fluke or flat fish, and as everything is fish that bites, they 
have a great assortment in bags, baskets, nets, etc., and 
as all are smoking, after a liberal allowance of beer, you 
can judge something is doing. All try, and do, talk at 
once. Fish, eels, etc., get out of the overturned baskets 
or through the nets and slide along the floor; and, take 
it all in all, it is a great experience. Sunday night is 
usually the star performance, and it is well worth seeing. 
This train has been noticed by the daily papers, but I 
have never seen an article that did it full justice, and it 
must be seen to be appreciated." 
A "Wbndetful "Woman. 
The appearance of a woman competitor in a plowing 
match in Derbyshire reminds the Sheffield Telegraph of 
one Phoebe Bown, who died just half a century ago, aged 
eighty. This extraordinary woman, who lived with her 
mother in a cottage nearly opposite the High Tor, at 
Matlock Bath, could walk nearly forty miles a day when 
young, could lift a hundredweight in each hand, and 
carry fourteen score. She undertook any kind of manual 
labor, as holding the plow, driving the team, threshing 
wheat with the flail, and thatching the stacks. Her chief 
avocation was breaking horses at a guinea a week. She 
always rode without saddles, and was considered the best 
judge of horses and cows in the Peak. 
But Phoebe had also a liking for sport and for art She 
was a good shot, and carried her gun on her shoulder. 
She was fond of Milton, Pope, and Shakespeare, and per- 
formed on several instruments, including the flute, violin, 
and harpsichord, and played the bass viol in Matlock 
Church. She was a carpenter, mason, and smith, and 
mainly by her own hand labor built another room to the 
cottage for the reception of a harpsichord which a lady 
presented to her. At her own request a local clergyman 
wrote her epitaph, and here it is: 
Here lies romantic Phoebe, 
Half Ganymede, half Hebe; 
A maid of mutable condition, 
A jockey, cowherd and musician. 
Luminous Eyes. 
The luminous eyes of animals are susceptible of a very 
simple explanation. The whole secret is reflection. Peo- 
ple who have lived years among domestic animals and 
have never seen their eyes shining may well believe it is 
only the eyes of panther, bear, or lion that ever shine; 
but, as a matter of fact, the eyes of a sheep or cow will 
blaze with just as much intensity as that of the most 
ferocious of wild beasts. One experiment will prove the 
statement. When in the presence of domestic animals at 
night with a lantern, let the experimenter raise it to his 
shoulder, turning his head to one side to allow the rays 
of light to pass as near in line with his own eyes as pos- 
sible, and the eyes of every animal within sight of the 
lantern will blaze, some of them with the intensity of 
white-hot coals of fire. The eyes of deer, sheep, dogs, 
cats, and cattle are of a bluish-white, while those of 
moose, rabbits, and horses have 3. reddish glow. — Land 
and Water 
