May, 1919 
FOREST AND STREAM! 
227 
UNCLE SAM FISHING CONTEST 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream: 
L ast August three disciples of Ike 
Walton got into a boat on a little 
pond, situated in Plymouth County, 
Mass., about fifty miles from Boston. 
After catching small perch and roach 
for bait we anchored in 15 feet of wa- 
ter for still fishing. I can visualize 
turned up noses, but when flycasting is 
impossible owing to prevailing condi- 
tions and there ai’e too many weeds for 
bait casting, is it not good to anchor, 
light your pipe and indulge in a con- 
templation of the wonders of nature, re- 
turning to the days when a twig, a 
string and a one-cent-a-dozen hook 
brought pleasure that can never be for- 
gotten ? 
At one o’clock our sole results were 
a few perch and many pouts that had 
been returned to their habitat. Lunch 
over, at two-thirty, we again put forth. 
Having live shrimp I thought I would 
try them instead of perch and then the 
sport started. 
Almost immediately after my first 
cast I received a strike and was so sur- 
prised that Mr. Fish got safely away. 
Of course I had to endure a nagging 
from my companions that I afterwards 
realized was classical. But when I en- 
cored the performance on the next cast 
the personal remarks got under my hide 
and though I hate to admit, the fish be- 
gan to steal my shrimp as fast as I 
could put them on the hook. Having 
nothing but dead ones left I put on a 
bunch large enough to make any bass 
hungry, but when I landed a four 
pounder I thought I was due to be 
thrown overboard. I had a feeling then 
that it was my day and a prize in the 
Forest and Stream Fishing Contest” 
seemed to be already in my vest pocket. 
Baiting with a live roach and casting 
I was rewarded by a strike that sent a 
thrill through every muscle. 
Letting him mouth the bait he took 
a run of twenty five or thirty yards and 
when he stopped I struck and then the 
fun began. When he felt the hook, out 
of the water came the largest and most 
angry bass I have ever had on a line. 
With a 4-oz. flyrod and a hundred feet 
of line out I knew I had a fight on. Dur- 
ing this bass’s life he had learned every 
wiley trick famous to the small mouth. 
After several attempts to get rid of 
the hook by leaving the water and play- 
ing an acrobat, he decided that home of- 
fered a better haven and home he went 
to sulk, occasioanlly shaking his head 
like a bull dog on a tramp’s nethermost 
part which has been made famous by 
cartoons. After twenty-five minutes 
hard fight I gave him the butt and per- 
suaded (incidentally a hook in the ten- 
der part of one’s mouth must be some 
persuader) him to come up. When he 
saw the boat within a few feet his wan- 
ing strength rallied and he made one 
last futile attempt for freedom, but the 
odds were against him and the net was 
slipped under his bronze body and the 
game warrior lifted into the boat, his 
courage willing to continue the fight but 
his strength all gone. 
His gameness made me wish to put 
him back but I compromised and had 
him mounted and every time I look at 
him I feel full of respect for his game- 
ness and look forward to the time when 
I can make another trip and get a com- 
panion to put beside him. He weighed 
five pounds, six ounces. 
J. G. Houston, Mass. 
SOMEONE ANSWER THIS 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream: 
Can I take a boat, drawing about 28 
to 30 inches, and go in and through the 
various heads or channels from Hicks 
Beach, Far Rockaway to Great South 
Bay? I have tried to get charts but am 
told there are none published. If you 
cannot answer the question, perhaps I 
can get it from one of the readers of 
Forest and Stream if you will publish 
this in the column of questions. 
H. L. Allen, Prince Bay, N. Y. 
Flying Squirrel Leaving Nest 
THE FLYING SQUIRREL 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream : 
1 AM enclosing a picture of a flying 
squirrel caught by the camera in the 
act of leaving his nest which might be of 
interest to the readers of your excellent 
journal. 
J. B. Pardoe, New Jersey. 
HELP FEED THE QUAIL 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream: 
T HEARTILY endorse Charles Sherwood 
1 regarding a bounty on all kinds of ver- 
min. I know it would be a great help 
in increasing the birds but I wish to 
add a little more. The grouse covers are 
fast fading away, that is their feeding 
trees, namely black birch, sweet acorn, 
spi’uce and the chestnut. Before the 
chestnut blight started the grouse were 
very plentiful. I have run onto a great 
number of grouse that were down and 
out from eating the blighted chestnuts, 
effecting them so that their livers were 
so diseased you could pull them apart 
very easily. Owing to their poor condi- 
tion they were easy prey for vermin. As 
for the quail, some 30 years ago most of 
our fields were enclosed by the old Ken- 
tucky rail fences. In plowing these fields 
the farmer never got any nearer than 
three feet on either side. This allowed 
the hazel brush and weeds to grow up. 
When the winds and snows started, this 
fence acted as a shield so the snow 
drifted on the north, leaving the south 
side with a nice sheltered canopy for a 
sun parlor and feeding ground for the 
quail. Today the wire fences have taken 
the place of those old rail fences and the 
quail have some hard times. How many 
of us on arising in the morning and find- 
ing the ground covered wfith snow and 
a crust of sleet, ever put on the old rig, 
take the dog, place a bag of feed on our 
backs and sail forth to feed those little 
fellows, that we think so much about in 
the fall when the going is good and we 
want to show our friends the good work 
of our dogs? You can pass laws, and 
then more laws, but you will never save 
the quail unless you help fill their crops. 
Come now, lets all be good sports and 
cast away our selfishness. If they are 
good enough to hunt, lets go the limit 
and help them through the winters. Its 
a poor sport who won’t go afield with a 
bag of grain and forget the gun for a 
while. 
F. W. Wackford, Connecticut. 
THE COOING FISH 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream: 
I JUST read an article in the March 
number of Forest and Stream of what 
seemed to be a strange experience of 
W. R. Wood, of Canada about a fish taken 
at Dickie’s Lake in Hastings County, On- 
tario making a strange moaning sound 
somewhat like the cooing of a dove. I 
found the same kind of a fish in a small 
river in southern Alabama. The fish is 
known there as the Croaker and ranges 
in size from 1 to 2 pounds. It is not 
good for food. 
J. W. Hembree, Princeton, Ind. 
To the Editor of Forest and Stream : 
M r. W. R. WOOD’S expei’ience with 
cooing lake trout encourages me to 
cast away my prudent silence and tell of 
a somewhat similar experience. In Au- 
gust, 1917, when up White Brook, near 
Bethel, Me., I hooked an eight-inch brook 
trout which came off the hook as soon as 
I had landed him. He went flopping down 
a thirty foot rock slide with a pool at 
the bottom. I was in close pursuit but 
it looked as if he would get away when 
he hit a bump and I grabbed him. To 
my astonishment the trout let out a harsh 
little squeally squeak. I have not heard 
anyone speak of vocal trout till I read 
Mr. Wood’s letter in your March num- 
ber. Maybe no one dared to. If so, I 
wish they would speak up. 
George S. Hastings, Washington, D. C. 
We received a letter recently signed 
A. V. Loving. If that gentleman ivill 
kindly send us his address we will be 
very glad to answer his letter. — [Edi- 
tors.] 
