88 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[July 15, 1911. 
we were away from the camp a greater part of 
the time, not an article was missed nor was 
there observed any evidence of the presence of 
the merely curious. 
Our first efforts at testing the stream for fish 
were made with wooden minnows; an all white 
and a rainbow. Each was equally successful in 
landing a few small-mouth black bass. Although 
small in size they were very gamy, and then and 
afterward it was characteristic that their strug¬ 
gles continued even after being beached, ending 
only with death. I am prompted to comment on 
this fact, not with the hope that I may stir up 
an argument, but because I believe I have ob¬ 
served that big-mouth generally will cease strug¬ 
gling when laid on the ground or immediately 
after being taken from the water and held sus¬ 
pended by the hook and line. 
Our first night in Red Rock camp, thus named 
because of its proximity to a large mass of 
boulders locally believed to be red granite, 
brought the full program of weird noises—and 
silences no less suggestive—which produced all 
the thrills and sensations invariably accompany¬ 
ing this delightful break in the monotony of 
modern living. It would seem that surely some¬ 
thing must happen if one fell asleep, and yet 
one does fall asleep. The variants of the hoarse 
bellowing of frogs, which the imagination pic¬ 
tures to be of enormous size, mingle with the 
sharp, harsh bark of a fox; and an owl shatters 
the succeeding stillness with its discordant and 
raucous-ending note. As I said, one does fall 
asleep and nothing happens except a dreamless 
sleep and an early awakening to a medley of 
birds’ songs. 
The inaugural matutinal meal comprised the 
bass caught the evening before rolled in corn 
meal and fried in bacon grease; a young squirrel, 
killed by Roy after a five minutes’ search, and 
Milwaukee rye bread. This latter, in addition to 
crackers, was taken along because its thick, hard 
crust would preserve its interior several days 
and obviate that difficult and invariably unsatis¬ 
factory task of making bread. 
Everyone whom we asked about the condition 
of the water in the creek agreed that it was 
lower than for years, and this would seem to be 
true by observing the highest high water marks. 
We waded and fished, using artificial minnows, 
to a point about three and a half miles above 
camp, past Spavinaw town, where the creek is 
bridged, for foot passengers only, by an old- 
fashioned structure of the suspension type, made 
and erected entirely by hand and strong enough 
indeed, but possessing in a magnified form the 
swaying qualities of a slack rope when trod upon. 
I believe the stream, even in that short distance, 
was lessened in size, although from riffles as 
narrow as ten feet and as shallow as four inches 
it frequently enlarged to holes varying in size 
up to 300 yards long, 200 feet wide and a depth 
estimated and judged from the descent of the 
bottom on the shallow side to be fifteen or 
twenty feet. 
The water was crystal clear and in the very 
deep pools acquired that beautiful indigo hue 
which changes with the varying angles of the 
sun’s rays and with each passing cloud. We 
found that later in each day the water became 
almost murky, caused by the many hogs rooting 
along the shores among the rocks and feeding 
on periwinkles, crayfish and snakes. The infre¬ 
quency of the latter is thus accounted for, as 
we saw but few along the eleven miles of the 
creek which we eventually fished. As everybody 
knows, I suppose, a snake is considered by a 
hog to be a prime delicacy, and the importunate 
porker with distorted epicurean taste has been a 
factor in decreasing the visible supply of rattlers 
in the rough and rocky hills of that section. The 
hogs were invariably very fat and mostly were 
owned by white farmers. There is no connection 
between this fact and a Cherokee ceremony per¬ 
formed during a protracted drouth for its alle¬ 
viation. The outward form of this savage super¬ 
stition consists of capturing alive a rattlesnake 
and tying it by its tail at a point from which, 
stretched full length, the head will be within a 
few inches of water—the so-near-and-yet-so-far 
idea. It is believed that the dire needs of the 
vicious reptile will be recognized by the giver 
of rains, and thus only incidentally drying vege¬ 
tation made to renew its growth, following a 
line of logic and submissive theology peculiarly 
unadapted to the advanced intellect. 
This ceremony, together with many others, was 
being performed at the time by about 300 full- 
bloods camped on Spring Creek, twenty-five miles 
south, assembled for the general purposes of 
producing rain and mean whiskey, and gambling 
through the medium of corn stalk shooting. No 
known law has yet comprehended this device in 
its technical phrasing. The stalks are racked 
four feet high and two feet thick and shot at 
with bow and arrow. The number of stalks 
pierced by an arrow count as points. The un¬ 
suspected ingeniousness for introducing the ele¬ 
ment of chance lies in the fact that an arrow 
may pass clean through the rack and pierce but 
one or two stalks, while another may penetrate 
but a few inches and pierce several. The day 
we returned a very heavy rainfall was observed 
on the section just referred to, and on our ar¬ 
rival in town we read the news dispatches stat¬ 
ing that an archbishop had asked for concerted 
prayer for rain. You now know what the full- 
bloods did, and what the Christians did, and that 
it rained. There is no guess as to what each of 
them thinks about it, therefore take your choice. 
For the information of possible visitors to this 
excellent bass stream, mention should be made 
of the “lakes.” They are locally so called, but 
are former beds of the creek where the valley 
widens. Two miles above Spavinaw town, a 
hundred yards from the creek, is one. It is evi¬ 
dently very deep, spring-fed from the bottom, 
the water cold and sky blue in color. No doubt 
the stories of the local people about large bass 
in these pools are true, but we failed to get a 
strike. I believe it would be necessary to care¬ 
fully study conditions and angle according to 
the results arrived at. There are two more of 
these “lakes” between Spavinaw town and the 
mouth of the creek, although we did not fish 
them, and from one of them had been gigged 
or caught, according to Alvin Goins, son of a 
farmer, small-mouth bass weighing more than 
four pounds each. 
Our day’s tramp up stream failed to bring us 
in contact with a desirable or likely looking spot 
that could not be thoroughly covered by casting; 
in fact, always one side or the other offered a 
clear space, as if nature had prepared for a 
tournament. I think we landed about ten or 
twelve, of which number we killed two, return¬ 
ing the balance to their native element. 
Each morning of our stay one or two squir¬ 
rels, of which there were many, and an equal 
number of large frogs fell to Roy’s rifle, these 
being preferred as a diet to fish, because we are 
of that large anomalous class who love to catch 
them but do not particularly care to eat them. 
It is probably apropos to state here that we 
killed but ten or twelve of the nearly 150 bass 
caught during four days’ fishing, the others being- 
put back. This action was very perplexing to 
the few farmers whom we met, but of all the 
various rural fishermen to whom I have ex¬ 
plained it, they apparently more readily than any 
heretofore grasped the idea. The men, and the 
only two women we met, evinced a keen interest 
in the artificial lures, especially the flies, and ex¬ 
pressed a desire to some time possess similar 
tackle. This desire may not have emanated 
from pure sporting sentiment, because we demon¬ 
strated the vast superiority of the method over 
their manner of taking fish. I related to them 
how, early that morning, with a white miller I 
had landed eighteen bass in twenty casts, and 
inviting them to follow me a distance, the same 
fly frequently induced as many as twelve bass 
at one time to rise before their eyes which ex¬ 
pressed astonishment, not only at the feat, but 
at the unsuspected number of bass. We pre¬ 
sented some of them with a few flies which were 
immediately rigged on long, resilient willow 
poles, and before leaving, shared with one husky 
boy his animated glee at landing a small bass. 
In view of the fact that Roy and I had, in com¬ 
ing to this strange stream, taken chances 
on success, our surprise probably equalled 
theirs. 
The love, amounting to almost a mania for 
seeing what is “just around the next bend,” would 
not allow us to be hauled comfortably back to the 
mouth; we must see and enjoy every foot of 
this comparatively remote forest and stream 
lying between us and home. Arranging to meet 
the wagon with our duffle at Grand River the 
following morning, we started early on the six 
or seven mile tramp, packing enough for one 
light camp that night. We were amply rewarded 
both as to the number of fish played and landed, 
and the marvelous natural beauties of the stream. 
At nearly all points we found it simply ideal 
for bait-casting or the fly. Should a return trip 
ever be made, and we think one shall be, it was 
decided to proceed directly to a spot about five 
mi'es from the mouth where the creek broadens 
for a quarter of a mile to a width absolutely 
uniform of nearly 300 feet, the deep side against 
a rocky high hill fairly well wooded and on the 
opposite side a high dirt bank densely shad d. 
Half a mile below this pool is another, almost 
a duplicate. In each almost every cast of the 
wooden minnows produced a strike, and it is 
probable that some of the fish weighed three 
pounds. A canoe would be adaptable there, but 
I would not advise one being taken directly to 
any point further up. It might be interesting 
to some to say that this point may be reached 
from Pryor either by farmer’s wagon available 
almost daily, or a livery rig, arranging for the 
return trip, and involves a drive one way of 
twenty-one miles if the Grand River is fordable; 
if not, ten or twelve miles is added in reaching 
a ferry. 
We wou’d be glad to hear explained the ab¬ 
sence of big-mouth bass in the stream. They are 
plentiful in Grand River and all other small 
streams emptying into it, yet we caught but two. 
