March, 1919 
FOREST AND STREAM 
129 
Will you kindly publish this letter and 
the following amendments to the By- 
Laws in the next issue of Forest and 
Stream ? 
Chapter V (Page 16 of 1917 Year 
Book). Add the following paragraph: 
The flags of ex-oflScers to be the same 
as those of active officers except that they 
shall have the year of office shown in 
numerals not less than one inch high 
along the hoist of each flag. 
Chapter X. Add to paragraph of res- 
olutions passed October 26, 1901 (page 
18 of 1917 Year Book) : That worn by 
other ex-officers shall be the same as by 
respective active officers except that the 
year of office shall be shown below the 
insignia. 
Oscar S. Tyson, 
Rear-Commodore, Atlantic Div., A.C.A. 
ANYBODY ELSE? 
T 0 the Editor of Forest and Stream : 
a fishing trip early this fall I 
N-' had a somewhat strange experience. 
It was at Dickie’s Lake, which is situated 
in Hastings County, Ontario. While 
trolling for lake trout I found that when 
a fish was taken from the water it made 
a strange moaning sound, somewhat like 
the cooing of a dove, but not quite so 
loud. It was a little uncanny, and did 
not add to the sport. Mr. Bruce Powers, 
of Trenton, was with me and he stated 
that he had heard the sound before from 
the fish in this lake. The 
fish were much darker in 
color than is usual in the 
lake trout and would 
weigh two to three pounds. 
I would like to know if 
any other fishermen have 
had similar experience. 
W. R. Wood, Canada. 
Personally we have never 
heard the coo of a fish, 
and can shed no light on 
the incident; but we hope 
that some other sports- 
man who may have had 
experience with vocal 
fishes will now dare to 
speak up. — [Editors.] 
A RAINBOW 'CHASER 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream : 
W HILE reading your periodical from 
time to time I often notice a story 
of a “catch.” However, I do not see 
very many from Montana, although we 
are proud to say there are many fine 
places for fishing in our State. On July 
9th, I caught, so far as there is any 
record of, the largest rainbow trout 
ever caught in the State. Taking this 
into consideration thought perhaps you 
could use a picture of it. , 
You know those hot days, when the 
cement walks bum through your shoes, 
and heat waves curl up from the pave- 
ment, which makes a fellow wish he 
was standing waist deep in some cool 
mountain stream, puffing his jimmy pipe, 
and casting his fly out on the riffles. 
July 9th was just such a day and it 
didn’t take long to persuade two of my 
friends, Bish and Seph, that they needed 
to have an outing the next day. 
Filling the tank with gas and oil we 
left Billings at 7:30 p. m. headed for 
the second bridge over the Boulder 
River, 105 miles west. By midnight we 
had covered more than 80 miles of the 
trip, so decided to camp on Deer Creek 
for the night. Our cook kit was brought 
into use early the next morning and 
after a breakfast of ham, eggs and cof- 
fee, such as can only be made over a 
camp fire, we proceeded to the “Second 
Bridge.” 
The Boulder River is one of the many 
beautiful and picturesque trout streams 
in Montana, and one would feel well re- 
paid for the long trip, such as we took 
for one day’s fishing, even though he 
did not have trout for dinner the next 
day, but he is indeed a poor fisherman 
who cannot batch a mess in a day’s fish- 
ing on the Boulder in July. 
All three of us had qualified as being 
fair fishermen by 4:30 in the afternoon, 
as we had from 25 to 40 trout each. 
We w’ere to meet at the bridge at five 
to start back and while hurrying to some 
good looking riffles a short distance down 
the river, I was regretting that we had 
only a half hour to fish. I waded out 
into the river and cast into a riffle just 
below a rock, and my heart almost stop- 
ped beating as a big one came half way 
out of the water with my fly. I gave 
a quick jerk, and the fun had started. 
Being in quite deep water I had all I 
could do to stay on my feet and keep 
Mr. Trout from getting a start in the 
swift current, as I knew if that hap- 
pened he would tear loose or break my 
tackle. I managed to work back into 
more shallow water, and at last he 
showed signs of giving up. I tried to 
bring him into a shallow place, but 
suddenly reviving he would dart back 
into the swift current. This was re- 
peated four or five times, but finally he 
failed to make a “last stand” and I 
pulled out onto the sloping bank a beau- 
tiful rainbow trout, the largest I hadf 
ever seen. When weighed some half 
hour later the scales registered 10 lbs. 
2 oz. He measured 29 inches in length 
and 17% inches around. 
We were late in getting into Billings 
on our return as we had to stop in Big 
Timber and Columbus to show our big 
one. Although many large trout have 
been taken from the Boulder and Still- 
water rivers, I believe this one was the 
biggest by several ounces of any rain- 
bow trout caught in this section of the 
country. 
I have told many stories of the big 
ones which get away but now I can tell 
of the big one which I caught, and as 
proof, which is always necessary to make 
a fish story convincing, I can show him 
— mounted. 
H. M. Easton, Montana. 
DOGS AND SKUNKS 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream : 
I N answer to a question asked by Dr. 
Thomas Travis in an article by him 
in the January number of your very in- 
teresting paper, permit a woman to say 
she has a solution to the problem, not 
her own, however, but that given her 
by an old trapper whose word was “the 
go,” where he was known. 
Mr. Travis’s question was this: “Will 
some old veteran trapper tell me of his 
experience?” — in skunk hunting, why 
sometimes men, and in particular some 
dogs can handle these creatures without 
getting scented; or in other words, why 
does the skunk sometimes fail to act. 
The contents of this scent-sack was given 
him for a weapon with which to defend 
himself, and sometimes he does not use 
it. Why? 
There could be several reasons “why,” 
known to the skunk alone, but there 
is one fact that settles the matter 
whether the skunk “wills” 
it or not, and it is this: 
The skunk must be able 
to get his hind feet on 
the ground or pressed 
against some object, 
firmly, or he cannot bring 
the muscles that control 
the scent-bag into action. 
The dog may know this 
and again, he may not. 
His “knowledge” or “wis- 
dom” of these subjects is 
a very interesting study. I 
have been under the im- 
pression since childhood — 
for 25 year s — that all 
sportsmen and trappers 
knew the “pole-cat” from 
a to z, and I’m glad to 
tell something that was freely made 
known to me. 
I am a natural born lover of Nature, 
and when the opportunity comes for a 
ramble over hill and vale, I grasp it with 
enthusiasm. I certainly do enjoy hunt- 
ing — not so much big game — got more 
of that than I’d bargained for once over 
in the “Bad Lands” of N. D. — but “Mol- 
lie and Jack” for me! I’d be out after 
them today, but my hubby is gone to 
the Gulf for a few weeks’ stay and I’ve 
promised to stay at home until his re- 
turn, so I shall roam over the vast 
plains of the West; the swamp of the 
South; the arid lands of the “Border”; 
the snow-clad butts of the cedar-scented 
North, with my “thought companions” of 
Forest and Stream, until I am frel 
again. 
A. B. C., Indiana. 
(SEVERAL LETTERS ARE HELD OVER) 
