entire distance in front, and' furnishes a delightful place for 
kl lndoors, on the lower floor, in front, is the sitting and 
dining room combined, a generous apartment over twenty- 
eight feet square. A space of five feet wide, directly back of 
the sitting-room, is divided into a closet, a pantry, and stair- 
way leading to the chambers on the second floor, all of which 
are accessible from the sitting-room. The kitchen takes up 
the balance of the ground floor. There is an excellent cellar. 
On the north side of the sitting-room is an enormous brick 
fireplace that will take in at one mouthful a good half cord of 
wood. The room is filled with comfortable, and what in 
some cases might be termed luxurious furniture for a camp in 
the back woods ; one of its chiefest charms in my eyes being 
a well filled library, containing, besides works of fiction, 
travel and adventure, all of the best known books on sporting 
matters. Over the fireplace is a rack made of deer’s feet, 
elegantly mounted, on which in the fishing season the rods 
are huDg when not in use, and the walls are decorated with 
pictures and sets of mounted deer and cariboo horns. The 
whole camp is plastered and is painted inside and out. A 
well-filled ice-house and a large boat-house, containing half a 
dozen boats of various descriptions, are near the camp. A 
trail through the woods leads to Trout Cove, on Lake 
Mooselucmaguntic, a mile and a third distant from camp. 
At the cove Mr. Whitney has another boat-house, containing 
four fisliiDg boats. A second trail, running tb-ough tbe 
woods in a different direction, leads to the upper dam, two 
miles north of the camp. 
The camp was christened Camp Whitney, in honor of J. 
Parker Whitney, Esq., formerly of Boston, but now a resi- 
dent of San Francisco. Mr. Whitney visits the camp every 
season, and has only missed one year out of the last twenty- 
two. He is one of the oldest habitues of these lakes, and the 
present is his forty-fifth trip. He has fished some forty othet 
lakes in Maine, as well as the waters of Colorado and the 
Pacific ccast, and has taken many a basket from the streams 
of England and the lochs of Scotland. He has bagged game 
in all these places and shot twenty-three deer as well as other 
lfirge animals. He has an inexhaustible fund of interesting 
anecdotes at his longue’s end. Associated with him in the 
ownership of the camp are George T. Rice, Esq., of Wor- 
cester, Mass., who has visited the lakes for several years, and 
T. Adams Ames, Esq., of San Francisco, formerly of Boston. 
The present is Mr. Ames’ twelfth trip to the camp. Capt. 
Benjamin Cole, of Byron, Maine, the present superintendent, 
is an excellent fisherman, a fine cook, and capital fellow. He 
is one of tbe oldest and best guides in the lake region, and has 
been here about nine years. 
Sunday we passed comfortably in camp During the day 
we were witness to one of those sudden exhibitions (of ele- 
mental strife peculiar to this latitude. The sun, shining with 
unwonted brilliancy, quickly disappeared from view beneath 
a mass of dull, leaden clouds that came floating from the 
Northwest. The leaden pallor of the air increased until 
nearly tbe darkness of night prevailed. The wind moaned 
and shrieked. Then an immense white sheet of feathery 
snow flakes, that drove and tossed before the whirlwind, com- 
pletely enwrapped everything in its blinding mantle. The 
storm passed on as quickly as it came, and in half an hour we 
had sunshine again. 
Speaking of the weather here, a native with whom I was 
talking one day about tbe remarkable atmospheric change, 
remarked, “Wall, yas, we have lots er weather here in 
winter.’’ A fact I can endorse, for in the few days since our 
arrival we Lave had all sorts, while the thermometer has 
ranged from ten degrees below to forty above. 
Friday Mr. Whitney and one of the guides took their rifles 
and started off. A mile west of the lake they came upon 
tracks of cariboo. Near it were tbe remains of a rabbit that 
had lately been killed and eaten by a wild cat. It had been 
literally torn to pieces, and the bits of the skin, bones, and 
hair, all bloody and scarcely cold, were scattered over the 
rock. A mile beyond they came to a smooth stream where 
the game had taken to the ice, and it was some time before 
they found where the animal had left the brook. After an 
hour's valuable time lost in searching for the tracks they 
found them, and again started in pursuit. 
Alter following the trail for several hours they approached 
the Cranberry Bog, and proceeding with the utmost caution 
they caught sight of the animals. The wind was in their 
favor ; sinking down on the sdow they crept carefully to- 
ward the game, and finally worked themselves within five 
hundred yards of the animals, who were contentedly feeding 
on moss. Being afraid to approach nearer, they agreed to 
both shoot at tbe bull, who had a fine set of horns. It was a 
long shot, but they took careful aim, and then the guide wbis- 
peied, “Fire!” Two rifles cracked simultaneously, and the 
cariboo started off across the pond in the middle of the bog. 
The bull soon dropped, while bis mate disappeared beneath 
the shelter of the forest. When the hucters reached the bull 
be was dead, Laving received both bullets. They took off 
his bead and skin as trophies and returned to camp. The 
guides were seat with a hand-sled to bring back the meat. 
As near as we could judge he would weigh a little over three 
hundred pounds. 
Saturday forenoon, between coffee and breakfast, we de- 
voted to skating, the ice on some parts of the lake being in 
first-rate condition. After breakfast we all went on a scout, 
returning to camp a little btfc re five. Whitney and myself 
came in empty-handed. Half an hour afterward Ame9 made 
bis appearance, staggering under tbe weight of a young doe 
that be bad shot on Black Point, scarcely half a mile from 
the bouse. He told us that, while making his way back to 
camp, feeling rather tired he sat down on a rock at the end 
of the point to rest. After a few minutes’ stop, he arose to 
go on, when he heard a snapping behind him. Cautiously 
turning, and at the same time cocking bis rifle, he caught 
sight of seme animal in tbe woods, about three hundred yards 
distant. Without stopping to make BDy investigations, he 
banged away and then rushed to the game, which proved to 
be a young doe. Its death baa been almost instantaneous. 
The doe weighed seventy fivo pounds and was put away in 
the ice house with the cariboo. 
Sunday, Whitnev, not being satisfied with a cold sponge 
bath indoors, had Captain Cole go down to the lake and cut a 
bole in tbe ice about twelve feet square, a request that caused 
the worthy captain to roll his eves in astonishment. As soon 
as the hole was cleared of ice, Whitney went down to the 
lake, and throwing off bis shirt, drawers and slippers, took a 
header into tbe lake. Ugh! it make6 me shiver to think of it 
now. Climbing out, be tumbled into bis things, and 
rushing up to camp, rubbed himself vigorously with coarse 
towels and experienced no ill effects from his swim. 
Monday morning, Whitney, Ames and myself took our rifles 
aDd went on a scout for game. Result — five partridges, one 
rabbit, and an eight miles tramp. The weather and country 
here now were very unfavorable for hunting. We are having 
wbat the natives call an open winter; about bIx >ncheB < of 
snow in the woods on an average, and we have b “ d = . 
siou thus far to use snow shoes, our thick boots and 
answering every purpose. First it thaws and then it freezes, 
precluding chances for deer or cariboo. 
V Christmas Day came, and we sat down to a royal repast. 
Every dish was prepared by Mr. Whitney, and all ^cook- 
ing was done under his immediate superintendence. By the 
side of each plate was a Christmas card and a cop? ’ of tbe bill 
of fare, written in pencil on some novel French dinner cards, 
suitable for tbe most nobby occasions : 
“ Christmas, 1877— Menu. 
“ Black bean soup ; sherry and sercial Madeira; cariboo a fa 
chasseur ; cbablis ; poulet a fa Molecliunkamunk ; macon 
fleury; roost turkey; roast chicken ; oyster sauce ; champagne 
and muscatel; currant jelly ; roast onions; baked potatoes , 
plum pudding ; au rhum and cold sauce ; fromnge de ueui- 
chatel ; spiced peaches ; crab apples ; cafe noir ; curacoa ; 
cigarettes a la russe.” , . , 
1 fancy that there are not many camps in the backwoods 
where you could get a Christmas dinner that would excel 
ours. We passed three hours very pleasantly at table, indulg- 
ing in toasts, songs and speeches, which were sandwiched in 
between the courses. I never passed a jollier or pleasanter 
Christmas evening in my life, and that was the opinion of all 
present. I doubt if any of us ever forget it. 
The following Wednesday morning we arose early, packed 
our things and took our seats on the sled, which had come to 
convey us back. It was a lovely morning, just cool enough 
to be agreeable. Tbe horses were in good spirits, and they 
trotted away at a lively pace. At the lower end of the Nar- 
rows we find a large piece of open water, but by bugging the 
eastern shore, passed by it without trouble. After reaching 
the lowtr lake we found tbe ice very smooth. The air was 
very clear, and we bad a fine view of the White Mountains 
and could easily distinguish the buildings on the summit of 
Mount Washington. 
Here I must chronicle the death of old Banney, the horse 
who had drawn the baggage across the Middle Dam Carry for 
a number of years, and who was well known to all the fre- 
quenters of tbe Angler’s Retreat. He was coming up tbe 
river from Lake Umbagog a short time ago and broke through 
the ice. Although not a very valuable animal, be was very 
intelligent, and there are many who will remember bis pranks. 
Among his eccentricities was a decided relish for trout, which 
be would eat raw or cooked. Another habit was that of 
stealing pies from the kitchen window. He would devour 
them with all the gusto of a hungry school boy. 
Before reaching Andover the sleighing gave place to bare 
roads. A friendly backboard bore us, not without mishaps, 
the rest of the way, and, arriving at Andover, the party who 
had together spent the Christmas holidays in the woods of 
Maine separated to their homes. C. A. J. F. 
Boston, Jan., 1877. 
COAST SKETCHES. 
BY G. BROWN GOODE. 
I. 
Provtscetown in Summer — Netting Bluefish and 
Bonitoes. 
I T was about the middle of August. Provincetown was 
looking uncommonly dull. Since my last visit tbe Cape 
Cod Railroad had added another link to its weary length, and 
the train, gliding over sandy ridges, between sandy dunes and 
across sandy valleys, ceased its career in the very middle of 
the sandy old village. A sandy old village it still was, 
despite the fear that railroads and overland commerce would 
destroy its quaint, old-fashioned attractiveness. Our fears 
might have been spared. There was no change in the plank 
walk, two miles long, the backbone of the town- On the sea 
side it was still flanked by sandy roadway, shops, wharves, cod- 
fish flakes and sea. On the land side was the double or triple 
row of shingle-sided cottages, overhung by hills stretching 
away, dell after dune and dune after dell, until they subsided 
into the broad beach of wave-pounded sand, which continues 
for a dreary unbroken forty miles to the heel of the Cape. 
The grim old town hall stood on the crest of the old town hill, 
a beacon for vessels west, north and east. The town hill, 
thatched over its white slopes with blueberries, blackberries 
and candleberries, was a reminder of the days, two hundred 
and fifty-six years before, when the passengers of the May 
flower stood upon it and first saw their future home on the 
other side of the bay. 
But to be a railway terminus, was not, for Provincetown, 
to become commercially great. Even the Boston steamer was 
discontinued; the hotels showed blank register pages; the 
loDg street was almost deserted. A few women were to be 
seen, but men were phenomena, except in the shop9. Once 
in a while one might see a lonely Portuguese with a blueberry 
basket, or a superannuated sea-captain sitting in his front 
doorway, marine-glass in hand, searching the horizon ior sails. 
“But where are all tbe vessels and tbe men ?” I asked. I 
remembered one September, five years before, when the har- 
bor wu8 full of shipping. Two or three hundred fishing 
schooners would run in at dusk, dropping their sails with a 
brisk rattle and their anchors with a merry splash. At night 
the rigging lanterns made the harbor look like a great constel- 
lation, little boats were plying everywhere, and the street was 
thronged. * 
I soon learned where the vessels were.* There were 84 in 
the cod fleet— 48 of ttiese were fishing on the Grand Banks of 
Newfoundland ; each of these carries about 12 men, making 
ao aggregate of 57C ; 18 bankeis used hand lines and 30 trawls 
or long lines. 17 were fishing with hand lines in the Gulf of 
St. Lawrence, chiefly about the Magdalen Islands, and on 
Bank Bradley and Bank Orphan ; these carry crews of 10 men 
—in all about 170. Besides there were 19 in the shore cod fleet, 
fishing with trawls about Block Island, Nantucket and the 
coast of Maine; these carry 9 men— in all about 171. t The 
bankers went out in May and had not yet returned. 
Then there were 30 vessels in the mackerel fleet. In 
August these are on the coast of Maine, but in the fall they 
•eine in Massachusetts Bay. They carry in all about 4-0 men 
Then there wtre the 18 whalers an^l several vessels engaged 
in miscellaneous fishing. Here then were over lSO vessels 
and at least 1,300 men belonging in Provincetown, and at one 
time absent at sea. No wonder that the streets seemed de- 
serted. Even a railway cannot revolutionize an aquatic town. 
Nothing was to be seen now except the gill-net fishing. 
Mv friend Mr. Blake, whom I fortunately discovered, rowed 
me out in bis dory to the “ Forest Queen,’’ Captain Sparrow 
a little schooner of 20 tons which layoff the Long Wharf 
faking in a cargo of blue fish. While we were on board five 
or six small boats came along side with their morning s catch. 
The most successful brought in 40 fish, another 35, others 
having in five or six bluefish and as many bonitoes. The 
fish are counted os they are thrown over the side anda ^ edl 
of them made. Thev are theu cleaned carefully and packed 
in broken ice. When a cargo is made up they are taken ta 
Boston and sold to the wholesale fish-mongers. The 
carriers receive one-fourth of the returns as a commission 
fee The fish at that time were selling at wholesale for 
6 cents a pound. Their average weight was 6 or 7 pounds. 
We staid on board more than an hour watching the fisher- 
men as they returned from their morning excursion Eacb 
man has his own boat, from which be has hauled and reset bis 
twelve or fifteen nets since daybreak. The boats are dories 
of the improved model, fifteen feet long, with centre-board, 
wash-boards and a light shearing at the bow to prevent splash- 
ing when sailed close to the wind. The nets used are exclu- 
sively Rill nets. These are usually from fifty to sixty yards 
long and six wide, with a mesh of five or six inches, and are 
anchored in twelve or fifteen fathoms of water, two to four ; miles 
outside the extremity of the cape. There is another kind of 
gill net, lately introduced, which is spread around a shoal of 
fish, completely encircling them: the heavily weighted lead 
line draws it quickly to the bottom where it banp like a 
high fence, meshing the frightened fish as they dart to and 
fro I learned that there were about thirty or forty dories 
employed in this fishing, and four larger boats, carrying two 
men and a. double gang of nets employed in this fishing. 
This would make about 550 or 600 nets.t Bluefish come in 
about the middle of Juue and remain until the middle or last 
of September. , . . . , 
I was much interested in observing the manner in which 
the fish had become entangled in the meshes of the gill net. 
It very rarely occurred that they had been meshed by the gills, 
nor does this seem to be the intention of the fishermen. In 
fact, a mesh large enough to gill the fish of average size 
would permit most of the smaller ones to pass through. 
The fish had usually become fastened before they had passed 
more than half through the mesh. This was clearly shown 
by deep furrows made by the twine just behind the 
eyes. A fish never retreats when in trouble, but as soon 
as it feels the twine swims with redoubled vigor. Thus the 
cords are pressed deeply into the not very yielding flesh of the 
head. So it is evident that gill-nets woven from fine twine 
are much more effective than the old heavy ones. The fish 
would much sooner entangle tfiemselves in the lighter net, while 
its yielding renders it quite impossible for them to suap .the 
elastic threads. ' 
Many bonitoes were taken also in these nets— great, plump, 
juicy fellows, their sides like burnished steel, each fin fitting 
in its sheath like a sabre in its scabbard, each snout truly 
conical and smooth as a Minie bullet, lhe bonito is the Mer- 
cury of the sea. He ha9 no wings on his sandals, it is true, 
for he has no sandals, but just in front of the tail, above and 
below, is a row of little flag-like fins (finlets), shaped like the 
winglets of the fabled messenger of the gods. I have noticed 
the movement of these finlets and I find that every one. is in 
function a miniature rudder. When the bonito wishes to 
change his cdurse to the starboard, “ hard a-starboard ” goes 
every little rudder, and the screw-propeller— the tail— gives a 
sweep and away goes the fish like a meteor. 1 wonder why 
the rate of a fish’s velocity cannot be calculated. A duck 
flies at the rate of ninety miles an hour, or around the world 
in eleven days. A swift swimming fish can surely do as 
much. From the deck of an ocean steamer, making twelve 
knots an hour, I have seen a dolphin swimming around and 
around the vessel, not exerting itself more than if the vessel 
had been at anchor. Might we not put a bonito in a tank one 
hundred feet in length, and have the rate of motion calculated 
by electricity, like the initial velocity of a rifle ball? 
The bonito seems to be in better favor in Boston than in 
New York. It sells at the same price with the bluefish. 
I observed that both bluefish and bonito were far from tbe 
spawning season (August 19), there being no trace of activity 
in the reproductive organs. 
U. 8. National Museum, Washington, Jan. 23, 1878. 
SPl dEWtyfr 
MEETING OF THE AMERICAN FISH 
CULTURAL ASSOCIATION. 
• TUe«« statistics, as to the number of vessels, are for lhe year 1817, 
sad were furnished to the U. 8. Commissioner of Fisheries by the vete- 
ran fisherman aud Ichthyologist, Capt. N. B. Atwood, of Provincetown. 
t Capt. Atwood makes this estimate : 
1K76 7S men engaged, who sold their catch for >5,400 
1870 64 " “ “ " “ “ “ 8,9»0 
lo77 59 “ “ “ " " “ “ 0,888 
Synopsis of Proceedings. 
The meeting took place at the rooms of the Fulton Market 
Fish Mongers' Association, foot of Beckman street, on the 
27th and 28th of last month. The attendance numbered over 
two hundred persons for each dayB’ session. Among those 
present were Professor Spencer F. Baird, U. S. Commissioner 
of Fish and Fisheries ; Seth Green, Superintendent of Fish- 
eries State of New York ; R. J Dodge, American Institute of 
Agriculture ; Prof. Youmans, Prof. G. Brown Goode, Assist- 
ant Curator Smihsonian Institution ; Hon. Prof. James W.Mil- 
ner, H. J. Reeder and B. L. Hewit, Fish Commissioners of 
Pa.; J. C. Willets, Skaneateles, A. A. Anderson, Bloom9- 
burg ; R. H. Kilby, Montreal ; J. Carson Brevoort, Astor 
Library; Prof. West, Brooklyn; Dr. Green, T. J. Hall, Sec. 
Adirondack Club ; and from the Fulton Market Fish Mongers’ 
Association, S. B. Miller, Pres., Benjamin WeBt, Sec., Geo. 
Lamphear, Treas., Dualey Haley, Albert Haley, J. N. Harris, 
A. L. Rogers, Israel Woods and W. H. Middleton. The 
Honorable Robert B. Roosevelt, the President, having 
called the meeting to order, the Secretary read the minutiB 
of the last meeting, which were accepted. The Secretary 
then read an obituary on the late Benjamin F. Bowles, 
of Springfield, writtep by Livingston S'.one, the late Mr. 
Bowles having been one of the founders of the Associa 
lion, and for a long time one of its leading officers. ThePf-Si 
