OfULY 8 , 1905.1 
sea. I explained my idea to him, including the time limit. 
‘'I think I can do it all right — and I know I must,” 
he said, “but I’d give a month’s wages if the salmon was 
safe in the boat.” 
Meanwhile, the salmon was moving slowly about fifteen 
or twenty feet from the boat, and not more than three 
feet down in the water. I doubled the rod on him once 
more and he came to the surface and allowed me to float 
him along on his side toward the boat within easy reach 
of the net. Twitchell’s eyes begged for the word, but I 
shook my head. He had still some reserve strength, and 
though the suspense was agonizing, we must wait. He 
was motionless, except for the seas, for the space of a 
minute, then rolled over lazily and went down, but not 
very deep. 
I rapped him up lightly once more, and off he started 
dragging forty feet off the reel and just breaking water 
at the end of the rush. I had a very heavy strain on him 
and with wrist and reel forced him back, though resisting 
half way to the boat. Then, cautioning Twitchell to be 
ready for the word, I reeled him steadily a dozen feet 
more and then his great heart broke and he gave up. 
I drew him gently alongside, nodded to Twitchell, and 
in less than the allotted time the grand old monarch was 
at last safe in the boat. 
The boat’s head fell off the wind a point or two during 
this maneuver and a sea struck us diagonally across the 
bows, sending a shower of water over us and careening 
the boat very suggestively, but we smiled in derision. 
What had we longer to fear ! No tempest or waves 
could wreck us now — for we carried Caesar. 
With tired muscles, but with such dignity and pomp 
as our battered condition and the very general humidity 
of surroundings would permit, we bore him in triumph 
down the lake, with a quiet repressed elation of soul be- 
fitting the grandeur of the storm, the battle and the 
stanch old warrior ; while the shrieking of the gale, the 
roar of the surf and the meanings of the bowed forests 
chanted his requiem in a sublime symphony of nature’s 
minor chords. 
It was a red-letter day that we shall never either of 
us forget, for we are never likely again to encounter so 
large and gamy a fish under all the ' tremendously ex- 
citing perils and uncertainties that made this capture 
so memorable to us. 
It was fifty-five minutes from the strike to the finish, 
but, considering that the rod was a 9-foot, 7-ounce green- 
heart casting-rod and that the weather conditions and 
general obstacles could hardly have been worse, it was 
a quick kill. , W. E. S. 
Fish Chat. 
BY EDWARD A. SAMUELS. 
Salmon in Mid Snmmcf. 
Now most anglers have noticed that in the hot 
months of summer the salmon rise far from freely, 
and do not begin to give such play as they do early in 
the season, when the water is very considerably cooler. 
In those warm days, they are lethargic to a degree, 
and if they are finally persuaded to take the lure, they 
do it in a listless manner, indicative of an indisposition 
to make much, if any, exertion; in fact, I have found 
it difficult at times to move a fish even when dozens 
were lying in the pool before me; they settled to the 
bottom and remained quiescent, no matter how patiently 
I worked my lure above them; and I have arrived 
at the conclusion that the stale salmon, those brown, 
spotted fellows, which have been in the river a long 
time, refuse the fly, not because they are over-cautious, 
but because they have become thoroughly inoculated 
with laziness, imbibed from the high temperature of 
the water in which they are living, for I have invari- 
ably found on thrusting my hand beneath the surface 
of the pools that it felt almost tepid to the touch. It 
may not always be indolence that keeps them aloof from 
the angler, but it frequently is, I am quite certain. 
Unaccountable Vagaries, 
Like other anglers, I have time and again seen sal- 
mon playing even in midsummer, leaping above the sur- 
face of the water, and having no end of romping. I was 
once traversing in a boat a small lake, which was the 
headwater of a famous salmon stream; in this lake the 
fish passed the summer months in very considerable 
numbers. On this occasion the skiff was lightly pro- 
pelled by my guide, so lightly that the surface of the 
water was agitated but very little; but, although we 
moved so quietly we seemed to have aroused from their 
slumbers the salmon in the depths below. 
Rushing to the surface, they darted high in the air 
and fell heavily back into the water, so close to the 
boat sometimes that the water was splashed in our 
faces. Dozens there were, and they were leaping and 
darting about as if they had all been seized with a sud- 
den craze; but as for accepting my lure, they showed 
no inclination for it whatever, and I offered them a good 
variety of flies, both surface and sunken. In addition to 
these, I rigged on a phantom minnow, such as our 
British cousins use in salmon trolling, and trolled back 
and forth for an hour or more, but to no purpose. 
The surface of the water was warm, but probably in 
the depths of the lake it was cold, and this perhaps ac- 
counts for their activity and sportiveness on that mid- 
summer day. 
Early Fish Give Little Sport. 
I have already stated in Forest and Stream that 
neither trout nor landlocked salmon give the angler 
such sport early in the spring or just after the going 
out of the ice as they do later in the season when they 
come to the feathered lure. 
One would suppose that, hungry as they are, and 
keenly active in the pursuit of their prey they would, 
when hooked, struggle as vigorously as they do at other 
times; but such is not the case, without being actually 
benumbed, they do not offer to put up as gamy a fight 
as they do when the fervid rays of the sun have some- 
what heightened the temperature of the water, and 
rarely at that early season come to the surface for the 
fly. I say rarely, for I, like every other angler, have 
seen the time when good trout fishing with the fly was 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
obtained when the water in the lake or pool in which 
we were fishing was barely above the freezing point. 
A Case in Point. 
Forty or more years ago I, with two of my friends, 
made an extended pedestrain trip through the White 
Mountain country. It was then quite early in June 
and, of course, there was some snow left on the north 
sides of the mountains and in the ravines, and in the 
depths of the forest, for there were forests of timber 
there in those days of considerable size. 
During this tour we traveled through the region 
which lies northwest of Berlin Falls, passing through 
Randolph, Jefferson, etc., to the Franconia Iron Works; 
thence we moved southerly through the notch until 
we reached that extensive range of interval land through 
which flows Baker’s River and other streams of con- 
siderable size. Through this beautiful section we 
moved in an easterly direction, until we reached the 
then little hamlet of Thornton; from this point we as- 
cended the Mad River, which was in those days an ideal 
trout stream full of rushing rapids and large, deep 
pools, the water being as bright and sparkling as is that 
of your typical mountain brook. This beautiful river 
we ascended until we reached an isolated farm away in 
the wilderness, not far from the headwaters of the river. 
At this farm we learned that a trail had been partly 
blazed out across the mountains in a northerly direc- 
tion, and in a spirit of adventure we started on what 
proved to be a most arduous undertaking, the crossing 
of the mountains, burdened as we were with knapsacks, 
shelter tents, cooking utensils and all the other im- 
pedimenta the camper-out has to transport in an out- 
ing in the forest. The trail over the mountains was very 
imperfectly blazed, and if we had not been provided 
with a compass we might easily have gone astray. But 
we plodded on persistently, climbing sheer cliffs, slid- 
ing down into ravines, swarming over windfalls and 
ledges which often seemed to offer insurmountable 
obstacles to our progress. We finally, however, suc- 
ceeded in reaching the open country on the other side 
of the mountains, arriving at a point on the road about 
a half mile from the old Willey House, of landslide 
fame. 
From this point we moved on until we reached that 
other magnifacent trout stream, the Wild River, which 
we descended until we reached Gilead on the Grand 
Trunk Railroad, at which place we took the train for 
home. 
Yes, that was a long tramp, one which taxed all our 
strength and endurance to complete; but we were full 
of enthusiasm and rather enjoyed the hardships we were 
called upon to endure. It was while crossing the 
mountains by the rough trail I have named that we 
had an experience in trout fishing such as we had 
never before enjoyed, and for that matter I doubt if 
either of us has, since that time, had a similar one. 
A Wild Trout Preserve. 
We had descended into a basin, in the heart of the 
mountains in which lay the most beautiful little lake 
imaginable. I call it lake, although it could not have 
been a half mile in length or breadth. A mountain 
tarn would he the more proper expression. This small 
body of water was shut in by high cliffs, which sprang 
sheer from its borders on all sides. 
In the forest on the north shore and among the 
ledges considerable drifts of snow were still lying. The 
water was icy cold, and instead of being of a brownish 
color, which one would expect in such an environment, 
seemed green almost to the verge of ligl^ blue; it 
was an absolutely perfect water, just as one iFOuld find 
in a huge spring. 
Ever and anon we noticed ripples on the surface, 
caused by breaks of fishes which we believed to be 
trout, and thinking it might be possible to have a trout 
supper that night, we selected a suitable spot for 
tenting, and in a very brief space of time camp was 
arranged and we were ready to try our luck with the 
trout. We soon found, however, that fishing from the 
shore was entirely impracticable, for the forest ex- 
tended down to the water’s edge, and our prospects 
for a fish supper seemed to grow less bright; but, after 
a few moments’ thought, it occurred to me that one or 
two of the dead trees, which stood near the shore, 
cbuld be utilized as a raft, and soon our short-handled 
axes were making the chips fly right merrily. 
The trees were felled, cut into suitable lengths and 
put into the water, where they were bound together with 
withes and a stout line we always carried with us, and 
then our rude craft was ready for the work we had 
laid out for it. Upon this raft was spread one of our 
shelter tents to prevent the trout, which we might 
catch, from falling between the logs, for we had no 
landing net; and stepping aboard with fly-rod in hand, 
accompanied by one of my friends, who had cut a long 
pole with which he was to push us about, I began 
casting.^ It is to be remeiubered that the water was 
almost icy cold, and its surface had not been heated for 
the- reason that the rays of the sun, except during mid- 
day, had but little opportunity to fall upon its bosom. 
Under such conditions surface fly-fishing would seem 
to to be alrnost futile. But the trout were feeding on 
the ephemeridae, which were then numerous, and when 
one of the delicate little insects fell upon the surface 
of the water it was instantly seized, not with the break 
the trout usually makes in capturing its insect prey, but 
by a quiet “sucking in,” as it were, during which the 
fish caused hardly a perceptible ripple. 
Slowly and very quietly we moved along the shore 
as far out as the length of the pole would permit for 
the water was very deep, and I offered my feathered 
lures, which consisted of a grizzly-hackle and a gray- 
palmer. That was probably their first introduction to 
the artificial fly the trout in that sequestered lake had 
ever received, and at my first cast I hooked a pair. 
Now, fishing from a raft such as ours was requires 
no little gymnastic effort, for the logs were not very 
firmly fastened together, and they often rolled beneath 
my feet. An accomplished river driver would prob- 
ably have had no difficulty in keeping a secure footing 
but I am free to confess I slipped and floundered a good 
81 
deal before I succeeded in hauling nly trout upon the 
canvas c^vering. 
I did succeed, however, and the fish were put hors de 
combat in a trice to prevent their leaping overboard; 
and what beauties they were! Not far from ten inches 
in length, and as gorgeously colored as any that were 
ever seen in nuptial dress. “Good!” exclaimed my 
companion, “there’s two for supper, anyway.” 
“Yes,” I replied, “and we’ll have some more, although 
I confess I hardly expect to do much in such deep, 
cold water as this.” 
Our raft was again set in motion, and in a few 
moments I successfully landed another pair, and before 
our craft was headed around for camp, I had a dozen 
or fifteen as beautiful fish as angler ever looked upon. 
They were not large, their average weight hardly reach- 
ing three-fourths of a pound, but they were high 
colored, plump and well conditioned. 
This incident shows that the rule I have tried to lay 
down at the beginning of this paper in relation to the 
conditions of the water affecting surface fly-fishing is 
not an infallible one, and most anglers have, no doubt, 
met with exceptions to it in some of their outings. 
The Maine Association* 
The meeting of the Maine Sportsmen’s Association at 
Mountain View Hotel on Rangeley Lake, June 28, was 
largely attended. The Fish and Game Commissioners, 
Hon. L. T. Carleton, Hon. E. E. Ring and Hon. J. W. 
Bracket, came in early. President C. A. Judkins was 
ably assisted in carrying out the details of the meeting 
by the efficient secretary, E. C. Farrington, of Augusta, 
who had taken great pains in arranging the trip. . Among 
those who won prizes were Commissioner Carleton, who 
secured a steel rod for the largest salmon; Henry Whit- 
man, of Augusta, second prize, 100 yards silk line. The 
president’s prize, a steel rod for the largest trout, went to 
Gen. Selden Connor, of Augusta. The first and second 
ladies’ prizes were won by Miss M. J. Haley, of Lewis- 
ton. The double prize, for trout and salmon, was won 
by R. Jennings, of Fryeburg. The children’s prize 
fell to Master Fred Jones, of Augusta. Bert Herrick 
took the first guide’s prize, Edward Lowell the second, 
and Frank Harris the third. Three members of the Gov- 
ernor’s staff in attendance were Flons. C. A. Blanchard, 
of Wilton; George D. Bisbee, of Rumford Falls, and T. 
S. Burns, of Westbrook. There were many other promi- 
nent sportsmen of the State, some of whom were W. E. 
Berry, superintendent of hatcheries from Winthrop; D. 
L. Cummings, of Houlton, proprietor Squaw Lake 
Camps ; M. C. Morrill, of Gray ; Dr. F. W. Kinsman, of 
Augusta; Hon. F. G. Kinsman and party, Hon. C. L. An- 
drews and party, also of Augusta; E. M. Blanding, sec- 
retary State Board of Trade, and game warden of Ban- 
gor. In fact, every city and most of the large towns were 
represented by well known, citizens and their families. 
On Monday afternoon the commissioners held a meet- 
ing and adopted the following regulations: “Kennebago 
Stream shall be closed from the foot of the first falls to 
a point opposite the boat house of the Oquossoc Angling 
Association to all fishing, except fly-fishing, from July i 
to May I of the- following year.” In the evening the asso- 
ciation known as the Inland Fish and Game Wardens’ 
Association, held a meeting which was attended by the 
wardens from different parts of the State who had come 
to attend the meetings of the Sportsmen’s Association. 
The president of the Wardens’ Association is D. L. Cum- 
mings, of Houlton ; F. M. Perkins, of Bradley, and W. T. 
Pollard, of Foxcroft, are the vice-presidents, and Mr. 
Blanding is secretary. The objects of the organization 
are to promote acquaintance and mutual aid among the 
members and the advancement of the protection of fish 
and game. , Central. 
An Anglers^ Cofrespondence Circle. 
Albany, N. Y., June 29 . — Editor Forest and Stream: 
So much real pleasure have I had from chance corre- 
spondence with anglers in this and other countries, that 
I could wish for all of the Waltonian brotherhood an 
equal gratification. To this end I suggest the formation 
of a correspondence circle, national or international, as 
may seem best, to include all those who follow the ex- 
ample of the apostle of old and go a-fishing. 
Collectors of various things have something of the 
kind, so I am told, and find both profit and pleasure from 
it. Why not fishermen? The details of such a circle 
could easily be worked out, and perhaps others besides 
myself have thought of it. Their opinions would be in- 
teresting to readers of your columns. 
In the belief that fishing acquaintances as well as fish- 
ing friends are the pleasantest we make, and in the hope 
that the “Petri Heil” of the hearty German angler may 
one day be as familiar to English ears as it is to those of 
his own race, I am Cordially yours, 
John D. Whish, Secretary. 
Black Bass in Texas* 
To answer a correspondent, Mr. Charles Hallock 
states that the western limit of the black bass, which is 
more frequently called trout there, is found in Texas ; 
and he adds that these fish do not seem to be caught west 
of the ninety-eighth meridian in any other State. They 
are not found in the Rio Grande, but are said to be abun- 
dant in Devil’s River, which flows into the Rio Grande 
from Texas through a mountain region. They are also 
numerous in the Sabinas, which empties into the Rio 
Grande from Mexico some distance above Laredo, and 
in Toyah Creek, which is west of the Pecos and some 
fifteen miles of the town of Toyah, on the Texas Pacific 
Railroad. It is a very fine stream, with many large and 
deep pools. The Enchanted Lake, on Toyah Creek, used 
to be a famous fishing place twenty years ago, Mr’ Hal- 
lock says, ^ In i883-’8s he was employed by General Man- 
ager Hoxie, of the Missouri Pacific, to write up the re- 
sources^ of the Lone Star State, and he found the native 
fish quite considerable of an asset, including mountain 
trout, A. iridea, as well as catfish and bass. ■ 
All commumcations for Forest and must be 
directed to Forest and Stream Pub. Co., New York to 
receive attention. We have no other oMce. ' 
