130 
FOREST AND STREAM 
these scenes with time to stay. Should we be spared to 
carry out this invitation, you may expect that we will drop 
a line to the Fouest and Stiikam as well as to the fishes. 
Meantime, it may be as well to state for the information of 
such as might feel tempted to see “how it is themselves," 
that since the writer's visit the channel through the con- 
necting streams has been improved, so that vessels drawing 
not to exceed thirty-six inches can now run from Cheboy- 
gan to the western shore of Crooked Lake at a point seven 
miles from Petoskey, on Little Traverse Hay, the northern 
termini of the G. R. and I. railroad. Further, some of the 
solid men of Cheboygan propose building two small boats 
for this route, to be ready for the Summer season of '75. 
But even should the latter expectation not be realized there 
will be no difficulty in procuring at Cheboygan and Petos- 
key guides and boats — either or both — for the tour of these 
lakes. In the Summer season a small steamer runs regu- 
larly between Mackinaw and Cheboygan, and the passage 
across the straits is a very attractive one in pleasant weather. 
By means of this boat, Mullctt and Burt’s lakes could read- 
ily be reached by those not wishing to go further. The 
lakes are all of amplest depth. The only obstruction to 
steam navigation has hitherto been the shallowness of the 
connecting streams, which is now in a great measure obvi- 
ated, as above suited. From the steamer landing on 
Crooked Lake stages will carry passengers to and from the 
railroud. The passenger department of the Grand Rapids 
and Indiana railroad company will issue about May 1st a 
Summer excursion book, containing full and complete in- 
formation ns to routes, guides, and all facilities to be af- 
forded for the tour of this and other chains of lakes on the 
soul hern peninsula. 
The dimensions of the lakes I have mentioned are, ap- 
proximately, as follows:— Mullctl’s Lake, say ten miles long 
by five at. the widest; Cheboygan, six miles by four; Burt 
Lake, nine miles by live; Crooked Lake, seven miles long, 
averaging three quarters of a mile in width; Round Lake, 
one and a half miles across. 1 should have mentioned that 
the smaller streams feeding these lakes are reported as af- 
fording the finest of brook trout fishing, which there is no 
reason to doubt, as the country is wild and new, and lire 
waters clear and cold. Johannes. 
Grand Rapids, Mich., March 6/A, 1875. 
For Forest and Stream 
BOBCAYGEON, via HOLLOW LAKE, TO 
M USKOK A. 
Y OUR correspondent, “E. W.," Ins brought vividly to 
my remembrance the most pleasant trip which I 
made along with Ur. R. and my son in 1800 to Hollow, or, 
as it is called by the Indians, Kahwcumbcjcwagamog 
Lake. We took another route to reach it, however. Leav- 
ing Toronto by the evening train for Port Hope, then by 
the steamboat from Lindsey down the Seugog River mid 
Sturgeon Lake to Bobcaygcon, at which place we hired a 
team' and drove along the road leading norm to Mindcn on 
Gull River, which we reached about nine o’clock Hint night. 
At that time the Bobcaygcon road wus in very fair order, 
and now I suppose it is much improved, so that I think it 
would be preferable, although a little longer, to the mis- 
erable roads “E. W.” lmd to traverse. At Mindcn we met 
our guides, and making a portage of a mile the next morn- 
ing, wo took the water on Mountain Lake, then passed 
through Twelve Mile Lake and Bushkonk Lake to 
Barnum's, reaching this about noon. After dinner we again 
Blurted and made a short portage to Little Kushog Lake, 
where we took in the camp traps, which hud been sent by 
team along the Bobcaygcon road from Miudeu so as to 
euable us to travel light. , , 
From this our route was the same as that taken by “E. 
W.” to Hollow Luke. Hollow Luke is indeed “glorious 
beyond description.’’ Its numerous deep bays, its long 
promontories covered with red pine, the succession of 
rounded hills covered with varied foliage, its wonderful 
echoes, and its flue trouting, render it an admirable resort 
for the' sportsman and tourist. It was in June when I wus 
there, so that 1 cannot speak from experience of deer 
hunting, but I was then informed that the deer abounded 
all around in such numbers that they were hunted in the 
Fall simply for their hides and tallow. We left Hollow 
Lake by a long bay which stretches out to the West, aiid 
made a portage of nearly three miles to the South Muskoka, 
which is the outlet of the luke and empties into Lake of 
Bays. While wailing for the men, who had made a return 
trip for the canoes and camp traps, we amused ourselves by 
firing at a mark, and while so engaged, looking down the 
river we saw a canoe whose solitary occupant was paddling 
with great haste up to us. He pulled the canoe up the 
bank out of the current and hastily run up the bank to our 
lire, before which he squatted, and pulling out his well- 
'colored clay, lit his pipe. He was a most comi- 
cal looking individual, clad iu a greasy shirt, fustian 
jacket, and begrimed with smoke. His first greeting was, 
“What's the mutter?" thinking, as lie subsequently ex- 
plained, that we were some party iu distress. This 
worthy’s name was Zucli Cole, a noted settler where the 
Bobcuygeon road crosses the South Muskoka at Cedar 
Narrows, who made a living by trading with the Indians, 
and selling them whiskey which lie manufactured himself 
out ot barley which he grew on the settlement. He was 
loud in his praises of his liquor. “Give an Iudiuu," said 
he, “a glass of it and he would throw you a beaver skin 
for another." lie bad some six barrels of speckled trout, 
which he had takeu iu his nets and sot lines in the adjoin- 
ing luke, aud these would ruu from oue to three pounds 
each. 
Leaving Zach Cole’s, we traversed the south side of Lake 
of Bays and Trading Lake, camping about half wav. We 
took quantities of trout by trolling as we paddled along, 
and the next day, while waiting lor the men to cook din- 
ner at the outlet of the lake into the Muskoka River, we 
had au hour's glorious sport, taking twenty-eight fish, 
which, as near as we could judge, weighed about sixty 
pouuds. We hooked fish, which, wo judged, must have 
weighed four or five pounds, but in our eagerness to land 
them, broke our fine rods and hud to fall hack upon bush 
rjds. 1 never saw, except at Nepigon, which I Subse- 
quently visited, any troutiug like this. We fished with 
rninuow bait, which had been furnished by Zach Cole, and 
when it was exhausted, with worm. Our route home was 
down the Muskoka to the South Falls, thence by wagon to 
the head ot Lake Couchiciug and Lake tiiuicwe, and by 
rail from Belle Ewart home. 
1 would add a recommendation of the Barnums, whom 
we found most willing and active and trustworthy guides. 
Toronto, March 'i'Z, 18776. J. 1L R. 
For Forest and Stream. 
WHITE RIVER. 
• • • • "Beneath It sweep*. 
Thy current’* rjilmni-**; oft from out it leaps / 
Tlic flnny darter with the flitieilng scale". 
Who dwell" and revel* in thy f>las*y deep": 
While chance *oine sentterea water-lily tails 
Dawn where the "hallower wove "till tells Its babbling tales." 
A NY one who consults the map of Arkansas will find 
that While River is made up from numerous small 
streams that rise in the hilly country, in the Northwest 
part of the State, and in Southwest Missouri. The general 
course of the river from the Missouri line to Jacksonport, 
Arkansas, is Southeast; here Black River joins it, and from 
thence it runs almost South until it mingles its waters with 
those of the mighty Mississippi. It is a remarkably long 
stream, and steamhouls ascend it as far as Forsyth, Missouri. 
To me it has an interest beyond the purposes of naviga- 
tion. I have taken its finny inhabitants with the hook, 
bright and fresh from its sparkling waters; shot the mal- 
lard and teal as 1 hey rose from its glassy surface; hunted 
the shaggy hear in Us tangled cane brakes; the bounding 
deer in its undulating woodlands, and have bagged Bob 
White in the rich fields along its fertile bottoms, 
Before its junction wiih Black River the water is cold 
and clear, and it abounds in a variety of fish, firm and 
finely flavored. Opposite the town of Jneksonport a long 
sandy bar extends some distance into the river, and oil this 
bar some splendid fish may he taken. They are the black 
bass and striped bass; each kind readily takes a minnow or 
small craw fish. The way in which we usually fished for 
them, was with a long line, reel, sinker on end of line, and 
two hooks attached to Ihe main line by leaders or snoods; 
a cane or bamboo pole completed the outfit. The fish 
weighed from one to four pounds, and could he taken very 
fast. I took there one morning before breakfast twenty- 
two, averaging about a pound and a half each. There is 
also a fish called by the natives a “jack salmon;’ 1 he belongs 
to the pickerel family, and is a game fellow, ami would 
fight hard if he lmd a ehaucc. hut he never gets it. He 
loves deep still water, and is taken Fall and Winter. We 
usually fished for him off some lumber rafts, moored near 
shore, and he was killed by “main strength and nwkward 
ness." Fishing with a short stout pole anil strong line, after 
a few desperate rushes, provided something did not give 
way, he was flopped upon the raft. That is.the way tjteyjdo 
it out there. Ami going according to the rule that when 
ou are in Rome you must do as the Romans do, I fished, 
unled, and took the bottle, ns did the Arkansians. 
This is the manner in which a native takes a drink on the 
road. Riding ,one day with a friend in a buggy, we met 
a gentleman in another. Both pulled up, I was introduced, 
then my friend said laconically, “smile?" “You bet," from 
the other. A bottle was produced, and passed over. He 
seized it, cleared his throat, said “here’s luck,” closed Ills 
eyes, a smile of ineffable sweetness overspread his features, 
he protruded his head from his coat collar like a turtle 
from his shell, stuck the neck of the bottle into his mouth, 
threw back his head, there was a gurgling sound, a con- 
vulsive working of the throat. 1 thought our chance for a 
drink from that bottle was gone forever, but finally be 
stopped swallowing and handed it back. 
“That man," said my frieud, after lie had passed, “is a 
native.” 
“IIow do you know”? I asked. 
“1 car. always tell them,” he said, “bj' the way they hold 
ou to a bottle." 
.Sperits is a nine qua non in Arkansas. You take it in the 
morning to keep out the malaria, at noon to get up an appe- 
tite, and at night to gel you over the fatigues of the day. 
It is also taken between times for divers and sundry reasons. 
It is reckoned a sovereign remedy in measles, “to bring 
’em out," and to cure the ague, when taken as “bitters," 
and is said to be an admirable corrective after a too free 
indulgence in “bar meat" or buffalo fish, aud is sometimes 
takvn on the principle that “the hair of the dog is good for 
the bile'” 
A native bad the measles in his family; the spirits had 
departed forever from his barrel. He went to a neighbor to 
borrow a jugful oi the needful. 
“1 hav’nt a drop," said the neighbor 
“What,” said he of the jug, “no sperits? Why it was 
ouly the week before last that you got a barrel.” 
“That is all very true,” said the neighbor, “but. what is 
one barrel of sperits iu a family of thirteen children and 
narry cow?” 
Little Red River empties into White River fifty or sixty 
miles below Jneksonport. It abounds in fish of several 
varieties. Once when fishing at West Point with Dr. 
Arnold, we took nearly two hundred pounds of fish in 
half a day. We used small craw fish for bait, and the fish 
taken consisted of black bass, drum, catfish, bream, and 
white perch, the latter llie largest I ever saw. 
Red River is deep, rather clear and with very little cur- 
rent. In the vicinity of Jacksonport game is abundant. 
The river iu Winter is full of ducks of various kiuds, and 
the small lakes, ponds, sloughs, aud lagoons, absolutely 
swarm with them. Geese are quite plenty, and occasion- 
ally a swan is seen. Bob White is there in full numbers in 
the plantations. A few wookcock, and an abundance of 
snipe in season. East of town, twelve or fifteen miles, deer 
are plenty, and I have had some magnificent sport hunting 
them between bayous Cache and De View. Between 
these bayous there is a belt of post oak barrens, almost 
uninhabited. The deer there are not much hunted, and 
lie well when approached on horseback, and when bunted 
with hounds do uot run off, but tack aud dodge for hours. 
I got teu shots there one day, but you are not going to 
be told how may deer 1 bagged. My powder wan crooked. 
Another time two ol us had hunted until t.l»e middle of the 
afternoon, and killed nothing. The hounds were tired 
down, we, disgusted; riding near u small field a hound 
opeued ou a trail. 1 stopped and encouraged him, when 
he got over the fence. The field was abandoned and grown 
up with bushes aud tall grass. My companion called to 
me to come ou, that the hound was trailing a cat, but by 
this time some of the other hounds had crossed the fence 
and were giving tongue ou the trail. Happening to look 
ahead just then, I saw D — , who was some distance in ad- 
vance, square himself iu the saddle and bring up his gun 
to his shoulder. A puff of smoke, and the heavy report tol- 
lowcd, then another puff aud report; away went the 
hounds, pell moll, aud right from amongst those iu the 
field rushed an enormous buck. ’Twas an awkward shot 
for me to make — nearly square off to the right — and a few 
more jumps would put Mister Buck in the cane out of 
sight, tie following him os well as possible with my gun, 
I let drive. The cloud of smoke hid him for an instant and 
when I saw him again lie had changed his course and was 
running down the fence. I gave him the other barrel; lie 
disappeared in -the bushes, but I heard him crash against a 
sapling, and knew I had ma^e venison of him. There were 
three deer in the field; they got up and were slipping out 
ahead of the hounds; the two does some distance in advance 
of the buck. 1>— killed a doe with each barrel, 'and his firing 
turned the buck back by where I was. All the deer were 
in fine flesh; the buck ono of the largest 1 ever saw 
killed. 
I have bagged two deer several times in a day’s hunting, 
anil one day three, two bucks and a yearling deer. A 
quick steady horse was indispensable as wc shot altogether 
from the saddle. 
In the dense cane along the river were found bear, wild 
cat, and occasionally a panther. Ducks could be bagged 
by the score by stalking them — under cover of the switch 
cane — along the bayous, lakes and ponds, and by float- 
ing for them in the liver. I killed eight, mallards at a shot 
with one barrel, and one with the other; they were in a 
small pond in the cane. Bob White were plenty in the 
fields and lay well to the dogs; snipe were numerous and 
exceedingly gentle. *** ****** 
I hunted deer with a man who lived on the river, and if 
he was not a good shot, it was not because his Christian 
name was not identical with that of the champion wing 
shot of America. Yet he could not shoot worth a cent, al- 
though excessively fond of the chase. Something always 
turned up at the wrong time for him and “knocked him out 
of a shoot.” 
Adam’s favorite steed was a horse of the female persua- 
sion, that he called Blaze; he would ride nothing else. 
Now the aforesaid Blaze had a mule colt by her side, and 
if that mule colt did not, according to Adam’s statements, 
knock him out of killing fifty deer, I’m a Jew — an ’Ebrew 
Jew. We would put Adam at a stand, and the deer, guided 
by a kind providence, or that unerring instinct, that 
prompts them to go in the safest places, would invariably 
run out by him. We would listen witli bated breath tor 
the shot, hut listen in vain. After the hounds were clean 
gone we would go down to bis stand and ask Adam why 
the thunder lie had not shot. His invariable reply was, “that 
blasted mule coll knocked me out of getting a shoot. He 
heard the hounds coming, run right down and turned the 
deer too far off to shoot.” 
If he went to drive, the colt would get in his way; 
and one day Adam said that the colt and a big buck ran by 
him side by side, in thirty steps. “Why did’nt you shoot 
any way, Adam?" asked some one. “Because the blasted 
mule colt was on mu side,." 
I never hunted West of the river but once. I lmd often 
been importuned by a man on that side, to come over and 
hunt with him. So one day at sunrise Adam and I got in- 
to a skiff, and taking our guns and saddles, and some of 
the best of Hie pack, pulled across. Horses awaited us— a 
whole lot full— Adam took an old sorrel that looked as if 
he would stand the report of a cannon. 1 saddled a pretty 
black marc. Our host was on a well tried horse, as lie ex- 
pected to do most of the driving. After going a mile or 
more, the hounds commenced trailing. We had not reach- 
ed the designated stands, and rode hard to get there. 
Adam’s horse proved to be a match for the one l hat Icha- 
bod Crane rode to see llie blooming Katrina. The trail 
was getting hotter. Then came a hurst of free, wild music — 
the pack in full cry. They were coming right down on us. 
I stopped and Adam galloped on to reach the bank of a 
bayou. Soon I found that the deer would run out to him; 
a moment more and the heavy report of bis gun resounded 
through the forest, and before Hie reverberations had died 
away, Adam’s horse rushed by, as rushed Lord Marmion’s 
steed from Flodden Field. 
•‘Blood shot his eye"— he was a one-eyed horse— 
"His nostril* spread"— and tall loo— 
“The loose rein hanging from his head.” 
Whether the “saddle and housing were bloody rid,” or 
not 1 could not tell, as he had run clean out of them. 
Adam contrary to his usual custom had brought something 
to the ground— himself. 
After following the pack for some time, (the deer after 
getting tired commenced tacking, and I had been knocked 
out of a shot twice by the unsteadiness of llie marc) I 
heard them coming right down a glade toward me, slip- 
ped from the saddle, and walked a few paces away. Pre- 
sently I saw the deer coming down the edge of the glade 
and when lie was within about sixty yards he saw the mare 
and stopped I fired at him us he stood with liis breast to- 
ward me. He turned square off at the shot, and 1 let fly 
at his broad side as he went. He ran on a hundred yards 
and fell into the bed of a dry slough. Knowing lie was 
hard hit, A. followed on foot to keep the hounds from his 
hams. After culiug his throat and getting the hounds off, 
I looked back to where I had fastened the mare, but she 
was gone. I felt inclined to offer almost as big price for a 
horse as did Richard the Third. How far it was back to 
the river I knew not, having followed the chase on a half 
broken filly for hours, in all its devious windings. After 
wailing for more than an hour I heard a horn in answer to 
mine, and H. came up. He had seen nothing of either 
Adam or the horses. We got the deer on behind his sad- 
dle, and struck out for the river, five miles off. When we 
reached the house we found Adam quietly smoking his 
pipe, and old one eye aud the mare gnawing a sapling as 
calmly as if they had never heard a shot. As we pulled 
back across the river — in the red light of an Autumn sun 
Bet — I asked Adam how it happened that he was thrown 
from hia horse. He gave a savage pull ou the oars that 
sent us far a head. “That infernal old one-eyed rascal,” 
said he, “has been running in the range aud lias not had a 
saddle on him in the last fifteen years." Uuyon. 
Corinth, Miss., March 1875. 
— One evening the past week a young gentleman, resid- 
ing in a Maine village, iuviled a young lady to go on a 
sleigh ride. When the gent called for the lady he was 
obliged to wait three hours for her to get ready; and dur- 
ing the ride they had quite an animated discussion in re- 
gard To her tardiness, which ended in his ordering her to 
get out ot the sleigh, which she did and walked home— a 
distance of three miles. * 
—It is estimated that the value of produce annually raised 
iu this country is $2,500,000,000, of which amount nearly 
or quite one fiffth, or $500,000,000, is lost from the attacks 
of iujurious plants and auimals. 
