May, 1919 
FOREST AND S T R E A 
219 
I have seen the mother bird, during a cold and 
drizzling rain storm, sitting calmly on her nest, her 
little beak pointing upward, the rain running off 
her little body, yet serene and confident that all 
was well.” 
After all, man is only an imitator. 
THE RIVERS 
jWTAGICAL is the power of water! Herodotus tells 
us that Egypt was a gift from the Nile. Mar- 
itelle writes, “Had not the equatorial rains been 
compelled to win for themselves a passage to the 
Mediterranean, Egypt would not have existed. 
Egypt began by being the bed of a torrent.” The 
water supply of the country is more important to 
the life of the people than any other natural re- 
source. 
It is not strange that civilization should have de- 
veloped along the banks of rivers. New York, Phil- 
adelphia, St. Louis, Pittsburgh, London, Liverpool 
and Glasgow, are river cities. These large, densely 
populated commercial centers have river and harbor 
waters which are invaluable. What would Paris be 
without the Seine, London without the Thames, or 
New York without its Hudson? The primitive 
Paris, we are told, owed its safety to its being on an 
island. Venice is secure by being girded about by 
lagoons. 
Rivers not only lend an interest and beauty to a 
place, but are also means of communication. They 
bear away the refuse of a city and bring back 
vitilizing influences. Running water is a great ad- 
dition to a landscape. We love the stately river, 
storm-tossed lake and rushing torrent. They appeal 
to the deeps of life ! The superlative ; the gigantic 
holds us in awe. 
Portions of our Western desert are being re- 
claimed by turning into it water. The unproductive 
waste is fertilized by the coming of the streams. 
Mark you, fruitfulness does not depend upon the 
great cataract; the landscape is kept green by in- 
numerable tiny streams that go softly. Again and 
again are we impressed with the charm of running 
water. 
It was a mere brook the prophet saw in his vision, 
but he saw it go down the mountain and into the 
valley, gathering force until it became a mighty 
river, and as he watched it he lifted up his voice 
and cried, “Everything shall live whither the river 
cometh.” 
SPRINGTIME IN THE CITY 
"THE city dweller does not live who does not hun- 
ger for the country in the Springtime, however 
much he may boast of city advantages at other sea- 
sons of the year. 
Perhaps some of them have never known the joy 
of living where the air is fragrant with the smell 
of upturned earth ; where the plow has furrowed the 
long rows for the Spring planting ; where the dawn 
comes up in the eastern sky with a smile like that of 
a round-cheeked child; where the grass and the 
early dandelions seem to be running a good natured 
race to see which will grow the faster and where 
the songbirds fill the early hours with gladness. 
There are those so unfortunate as to have never 
experienced the birth of a Spring in the country, 
but it is in their blood nevertheless and they long for 
it even without knowing exactly what it is they miss. 
But for the country-bred and the Nature-lover 
the call of the country in Spring is like no other 
experience. It is a compound of joy and sadness, 
of regret and longing. Longing is the most malig- 
nant form of Spring fever. The distracted patient 
walks across the cobblestones of the city streets and 
tries to imagine them to be little mounds of soft 
earth in a country road. He looks at the squares of 
pavement and thinks of the perfectly laid out rows 
of daffodils and pansies in a country garden. Some- 
times he forgets himself and steps aside to avoid 
treading on them. 
And if in addition to being a nature-lover he be 
also a sportsman the “case is aggravated,” as 
physicians say. His brain is haunted by visions of 
sprouting young trees that grow beside a cheerfully 
murmuring brook which boasts a generous supply 
of deep pools where speckled trout congregate to 
talk over the summer’s program and where many 
of them are so good natured as to just spring right 
up and “wish themselves” caught. Every break in 
the city curbstone is a possible trout stream when 
that Spring fever gets into a sportsman’s blood, and 
he just has to go fishing. If he can’t get away from 
town he takes it out in thinking about it, which we 
are told by so high an authority as Ralph Waldo 
Emerson is just as satisfactory anyway. 
One of the most interesting fishermen we ever 
knew was a man who had not seen a trout stream 
since he was a boy. Each Spring he would read 
the catalogues issued by the railroads extolling the 
advantages of their especial trout-fishing areas; he 
would lay in a supply of the latest reels, hooks and 
flies; he would equip himself with the various kinds 
of rods; spend hours discussing the relative merits 
of various fishing equipment — and talk about trout- 
fishing until Spring had given place to Summer and 
it was too late to go astream. 
DR. HENSHALL'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
TN this issue of Forest and Stream will be found 
^ the first installment of the biography of Dr. James 
A. Henshall, author of the “Book of the Black Bass,” 
etc., who has been known to the readers of Forest 
AND Stream from its foundation. His auto- 
biography will appear as a serial in sequent and sub- 
sequent issues until finished. 
As Marse Henry Watterson is now writing his 
personal and political reminiscences for the Satur- 
day Evening Post, covering a period of nearly eighty 
years. Dr. Henshall, one of his admirers, will in like 
manner, furnish to the readers of Forest and 
Stream the observations and experiences incident to 
his eventful life, from a precocious age of two or 
three months to his present age of eighty-three years 
young. 
The scenes of his activities cover every state of 
the Union, Canada, the West Indies and Europe ; 
and his narrative will embrace many subjects from 
the viewpoint of an angler, naturalist, sportsman 
and yachtsman. Dr. Henshall practiced medicine 
and surgery for a number of years, but gave up his 
profession for scientific pursuits. He is ex-presi- 
dent of the American Fisheries Society, also of the 
Tampa Society of Natural History and the Montana 
Society of Sciences, is ex-secretary of the Cincinnati 
Society of Natural History and of the Cuvier Club, 
and was assistant chief of the Departraefnt 
eries at the Chicago Columbian Exposition. He re- 
ceived a silver medal at the Paris Exposition of 1900, 
and a gold medal at the St. Louis World’s Fair in 
1904, for literature pertaining to fish and fishing. 
