28 
FOREST AND STREAM 
January, 1922 
MICHIGAN STREAMS 
Dear Forest and Stream: 
1 HAVE just read an article in the For- 
est AND Stream by VVm. B. Mershon 
relating to the streams of hlichigan, and 
especially the Au Sable. I am in accord 
with him on the subject of protecting 
this stream for several years so as to pre- 
vent its complete depletion of all kinds of 
fish. I have fished this stream for its en- 
tire length; also the south and middle 
branches. On my last two trips, in 1919- 
1920, my success was almost nil, even 
with an abundance of worms of all kinds. 
During four weeks’ time about fifty fish 
were taken, and at times many dead 
trout-fingerlings were seen, belly up, 
floating. I am an advocate of a limit on 
all kinds hooked, for the reason that the 
majority hooked, even if returned to the 
stream, die. 
The dams and the present method of 
fishing will, in but a few years hence, de- 
stroy all good fishing in this beautiful 
stream. I really resolved on my last visit 
that it would be the final one for me. 
Many large clubhouses are to be found 
along the stream, and thousands of fish- 
ermen fish the stream and hundreds fre- 
quent these clubhouses. A large ten- 
thousand-dollar house near Roscommon, 
twenty-five miles on the south branch, 
was simply filled with all kinds of ang- 
lers. While I visited the stream in 1920, 
two dozen could be seen all at one time 
fishing the stream, and many were so 
simple as to stand and hold a fly in the 
stream for an hour (still fishing) ; others 
with miller heads, night crawlers, spin- 
ners, and, in fact, every conceivable kind 
of bait. Then and there I decided to 
never visit the stream again. 
H. S. Larch, M. D., Ohio. 
FINDING A GOOD DOG 
Dear Forest and Stream 
F or some time a friend and I had been 
looking for a good bird-dog, and one 
day my friend came in to tell me that 
he had heard of a dog in Sullivan 
County, New York, that had been offered 
to him, and he wanted me to go up there 
with him for two or three days shooting 
to give him a trial. I replied that I could 
go in a couple of days, and it was ar- 
ranged that we should leave the follow- 
ing Wednesday for the proposed trip, 
he making all the arrangements in ad- 
vance and writing to the party who 
owned the dog with whom we were to 
stop. 
We left New York on Wednesday 
afternoon with shooting-traps and my 
dog Pete, arriving after dark and leav- 
ing the train at a station supposed to be 
in. the immediate vicinity of the party 
we were to shoot with. L^pon looking 
about us we could see nothing but a saw- 
mill and one or two men apparently en- 
gaged in the lumber business. Approach- 
ing one of these men we asked how far 
it was to Hartwood, and to our astonish- 
ment were told it was about four miles. 
Further inquiry brought the information 
that the party we were to visit got his 
mail at another station, and that Hart- 
wood. where he lived, was simply four 
corners of a road, with a small store of 
which he was the proprietor. 
We got a conveyance and arrived at 
the store about nine o’clock, to learn that 
Harrington, the owner of the dog, was 
sound asleep ; that he had not received 
any of the letters my friend had sent 
him, and was consequently in rather an 
unpleasant frame of mind at being sur- 
prised, as he put it, “in the middle of 
the night” and awakened by two stran- 
gers who wanted to put up at his house 
and go shooting the ne.xt day. After 
some coaxing and further conversation 
he thawed out and consented to take 
us in. 
The next morning we were up early and 
started with Harrington to try the dog. 
We had a pretty fair day of shooting 
and got several grouse, but had a hard 
day’s tramp to do it, and much to our 
surprise we tired Harrington out. How- 
ever, my friend was pleased with the 
dog, and it was arranged that the next 
day we would take another course and 
give him another day’s trial. 
We were rather astonished the next 
morning to find that Harrington had 
Working well 
learned over night of some “pressing 
business” which would prevent his going 
with us, but he turned over the dog to 
us, with directions as to the route we 
should take for the day’s hunt. This 
was to follow one stream up to a certain 
point, cross over a hill, the side of which 
was covered with scrub oak, down into 
another valley, and follow another 
stream back, which emptied a short dis- 
tance from the store into the one we 
were to hunt up. 
Conditions were fine for hunting, and 
we started out with great expectations. 
We did have fine luck until about two 
o’clock, when we crossed from the first 
stream through the scrub oaks, on our 
way over to the stream we were to hunt 
down. 
The dog had worked well for my friend 
and he had about decided he would buy 
him when, rather suddenly in the midst 
of the scrub oak, he called out to me 
that he had lost him. He told me that 
the dog had gotten out of his sight in 
the thick brush a few moments before, 
notwithstanding his calls and whistles, 
and he believed he had gone in search 
of his master. 
On the upper side of the three or four 
acres of scrub oak there was a large 
stone wall upon which we seated our- 
selves, and for fully half an hour we 
both made as much noise as we possibly 
could, calling that dog, until we gave 
it up through hoarseness. I suggested 
that we shoot our guns and see if the 
report would bring him back to us, which 
we tried with no success. My friend 
remarked that we probably would have 
to return home without him. Altogether, 
we spent about an hour on the stone 
wall, discussing the situation from every 
standpoint, and finally decided that if we 
wanted to get home before dark we 
would have to start on our return trip. 
As we jumped down from the stone 
wall my dog Pete seemed possessed to 
take a detour around behind a thick 
clump of oaks, and with a feeling of 
curiosity to know why he was so per- 
sistent, I followed him. He immediately 
showed signs of birds, and I called my 
friend in a low voice to come with me 
and follow him up. Soon he came to a 
staunch point, and looking about fifteen 
feet ahead of him, I saw the other dog. He 
had become so e.xhaustcd from pointing 
all this time that he had sat down, but 
still with the scent of the bird strong in 
his nose, was drooling and waiting for a 
master. 
Aluch pleased with the turn in affairs, 
I called quite loudly to my friend to step 
where I was and take in the situation. 
As I did so a big cock grouse got up 
with a roar not more than five feet ahead 
of the dog, but we were both so over- 
come with surprise and pleasure at find- 
ing the dog that neither of us thought 
to raise our guns to shoot, and the poor 
dog had all his strenuous work for noth- 
ing. The bird up, he came in to my 
friend’s feet with an expression of utter 
disgust, and my friend turned to me, 
extending his hand and saying, “That 
dog goes back to New York to-morrow.” 
Dog and bird had not been more than a 
hundred yards from us during the entire 
time that we were shouting, whistling 
and shooting, and neither of them had 
moved. 
After this experience we started im- 
mediately for the store, and it is needless 
to say that my friend bought the dog, 
and he proved to be as fine a dog as one 
would ever want to shoot over. 
A Reader. 
GROUSE AND EVERGREEN 
TREES 
Dear Forest AND Stream ; | 
U P in the Northland, the home of the ; 
ruffed grouse, the great outdoor j 
sport in early winter is skating. At 
times when it is too cold to go skating ' 
our attention is directed to the woods, 
where ruffed grouse and rabbits are quite 
plentiful. Should we go skating on the 
coldest days, we would be sure to have our • 
cars frozen, but going into the forest of 
evergreen trees means we can take off - 
our mittens and open our coats. The 
cold blasts of wind from the north blow 
right over the tops of the trees, and it is ■ 
so cosy and warm among the trees below ^ 
that it is hard to believe there is such a 
difference between still air and air in, 
motion, unless actually experienced in . 
the cold country of the North. And that, 
is why the ruffed grouse leave the open ( 
