506 
FOREST AND STREAM 
idea of pointing out some of the various sections 
in which one may expect to find brook and rain¬ 
bow trout, and is not intended to cover all, or 
nearly all, of the trouting waters of the state. 
With a view, however, of putting the interested 
reader in touch with conditions at first hand, I 
append herewith the names of a few people who 
know some of the localities mentioned very much 
better than I do myself: 
Ernest L. Ewbank, Hendersonville; F. W. 
Bicknell and Stokes Penland, of Linville Falls; 
Franklin Sherman, Raleigh—who knows the 
state in general; Dr. J. F. Abel; Waynesville (the 
Haywood county streams) ; Jim Taylor, Ac- 
quone; R. W. Collett, Raleigh, who knows the 
Snowbird and other Graham county waters. 
Sawmills are hell on trout streams with us, as 
they are elsewhere. One cannot always be sure 
that the unpolluted and good fishing stream of one 
season will retain its attractiveness the next. But, 
with a better appreciation of conservation prac¬ 
tices, and with some planting of fry, it may be that 
general conditions with us are inclined to im¬ 
prove. 
There is a little stream in one of our north¬ 
western counties that a friend of mine fished the 
season before last. He followed the little runlet 
up and up and up, just to see in how little water 
a brook trout can live. He finally caught one in 
a place where the stream was so small that he had 
to step over the hill to spit, for fear of causing a 
freshet! 
If you will get out your map of North Carolina 
and look up the localities mentioned, you will find 
that many of them are not so remote from a 
railway as to be practically out of reach. There 
is not much possibility of canoe travel in reaching 
our trouting waters, and anyone wishing to try 
them must depend pretty much on the fishing 
alone to furnish the enjoyment. You can’t do 
much in the way of combining canoeing and trout 
fishing with us. If you want boating and fishing- 
together you will have to go after bass, not trout. 
But, glory be! There are no black flies, pun- 
kies, no-see-ums, etc., on our trout streams and, 
I may say, no mosquitoes. 
Regarding flies, the following may be of in¬ 
terest: One of the most successful trout fisher¬ 
men I know says that his first, second and third 
choice are Royal Coachman, Royal Coachman 
and Royal Coachman! His fourth choice takes in 
Willow, Professor, White Miller, Yellow Sallie, 
Parmacheene Belle, Black Gnat, etc., etc., all on 
number ten hooks. And he has fished Snowbird, 
Pigeon River, Linville, Lost Cove and other 
widely separated localities enough to know what 
he is talking about. 
In some of the protected waters where fishing 
is allowed on payment of a small daily or weekly 
fee, a creel limit of twenty-five fish is in force. 
In most of our waters, perhaps, there is no limit, 
either as to minimum size of fish or as to the 
number allowed to the rod per day. But every¬ 
where you have the privilege of catching the very 
biggest fish there is in the stream! 
We have practically no state-wide laws relat¬ 
ing to brook or rainbow trout, those that we do 
have being local in their application. Our angling 
laws are, like our game laws, capable of improve¬ 
ment ! 
May is nearly here! It is trying to snow to¬ 
day, and cold as mid-winter—but May is nearly 
here! But there are flies to be picked over, and 
added to. There are leaders to be tested, and re¬ 
newed. There is that good old enamelled line to 
be inspected—and that trusty rod, the hero of 
many a hard-fought battle—to be revarnished; 
and there is the reel to be carefully cleaned and 
oiled. And there are dreams to be dreamed of 
the warmer days to come, and mental pictures to 
Ittik, whom we called Pete, was an Indian, 
stupid but strong. Wilfrid was a Kanuck, 
clever, capable and lazy. Together they led us 
into the far Canadian woods and, eventually, out 
again. 
At the end of a hard portage we sat by the 
evening camp-fire. A pot of tea was boiling for 
supper. Pete took off the cover and a gust of 
wind promptly filled the pot with ashes. 
“Sacre sauvage!” yelled Wilfrid, and offered 
to kill the Indian. But, changing his mind, he put 
another can of tea to boil. When this was done 
to his fancy he skillfully lifted it from the fire 
and drained the fragrant liquor off into our tin- 
cups, without emptying so much as a vestige of 
the grounds. 
Meanwhile Pete drank his pot of tea, grounds 
and cinders, tannin and lye, without the slightest 
worry. Whereupon there ensued considerable dis¬ 
course among the rest of us on the Technique of 
Life. 
“Observe,” said one, “the brilliant technique of 
Wilfrid, so well adapted to his habits of life. 
Even in this far place and with these crude imple¬ 
ments he brews this tea as nicely as it could be 
done at five o’clock at the Place Viger.” 
“But I give the Indian equal credit,” said the 
other, “for being able to drink his own tea with¬ 
out any qualms or discomforts. He also has his 
technique.” 
“Yes, Wilfrid avoids difficulties; Pete with¬ 
stands them.” 
“Or as one might say, Wilfrid makes skill the 
mentor of his existence, Pete merely endures.” 
“We might let it go at that, except that it flat¬ 
ters skill too much. It seems to make it the 
universally preferable technique of life. Doesn’t 
endurance really count for more in the aggregate? 
All the big burdens of existence have to be pa¬ 
tiently borne, not skillfully avoided.” 
Wilfrid’s admirer could not accept this doctrine. 
“Why should they be borne if they can be 
avoided?” he rejoined. “Why should Pete cor¬ 
rode his plumbing with that tannin liquid when 
he could just as well drink good tea like Wil¬ 
frid?' 
“Yet when skill has done its utmost there re¬ 
mains something to be endured. Besides that, pa¬ 
tience and endurance have always been consid¬ 
ered cardinal virtues. Think how they are ex¬ 
tolled in the Bible.” 
“Yes, yes; but take any practical case and you 
must allow that Wilfrid’s technique is better. Take 
a man’s whole business in life—his job of making 
a living. He can patiently endure his poverty or 
he may by his cleverness make a fortune.” 
“Or take a woman’s business in life,” said the 
other. “Shall she patiently bear and bring up 
be painted of that biggest-one-of-all lying panting 
on the gravel bar after years of “getting away!” 
So our anticipations get to working overtime and 
our hearts will not remain long unhappy with the 
trout fisherman’s heaven so close at hand! 
For May is nearly here! 
her children, or shall she cleverly substitute 
bridge and a collie dog?” 
“See here,” said the first man. “This is getting 
too deep for the time of day, but I’ll propose you 
one last test. Take the business of men and 
women both—that is the business of matrimony, 
in which it strikes me there is a lot of bungle- 
some technique on exhibition. It is a great in¬ 
stitution, but some people seem to consider it a 
trial to be endured. Now I prefer to call it a 
blessing from which the good is to be got only 
by means of constant and skillful adjustments.” 
“And yet I notice,” drily observed the other, 
“that a good many folks choose the gentle adjust¬ 
ment of the divorce court rather than either of 
the other alternatives.” 
“Look here, Wilfrid,” said I, breaking in, “have 
you a wife?” 
“Moi, Monsieur? Oh, yes! a very fine one. 
She lives in Riviere a Pierre, but as I do not go 
there any more I do not see her. Is it not too 
bad? Or, no!’ and Wilfrid laughed. 
“And what about Pete? Has he a wife?” 
“Pete? Ittik? Levieux sauvage? Eh bien! 
He has four. One on the St. Maurice above La 
Tuque, one at Roberval, one at St. Jean de le 
Petite Chute and one at Montreal. That’s all that 
I know about. Except one ran away to Winnipeg 
with a Frenchman.” 
“What does Pete say about them?” I asked. 
For Wilfrid had to interpret most of our deep 
talk with the Indian. 
After some parley of examination Wilfrid 
translated: “Oh, he say women no good. They 
ought to work, take care of Pete. But they got 
all foolish idea. All think Pete should take care 
of them. So he work for monsieurs, take care 
himself. He say women great mistake. Ba oui! 
I think so, too. What does monsieur think?” 
BIRDS IN NOVA SCOTIA. 
Digby, N. S., April 3, 19x4. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
On March 31, while driving in the country I no¬ 
ticed the following spring birds: Blue heron 
(crane), slate-colored junco and robins. I never 
saw a crane in the month of March before. Wild 
geese are flying north and ducks are mating. 
H. A. P. SMITH. 
TROUT FOR KEYSTONE STATE. 
The headwaters and streams near Johnstown, 
Pa., recently received 126 cans of trout from the 
Government fisheries. The Ebensburg Camp of 
Sportsmen were notified that they might have 
10,000 of the trout if they would distribute them. 
The stock included both rainbow and mountain 
or brook trout. 
Two Guides 
A Dissertation on the Technique of Life 
By Frank A. Waugh. 
