438 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sept. 9, 1911. 
Resorts for Sportsmen. 
Hunt Big Game 
Don’t hesitate because inexperi¬ 
enced. Go this year while there are 
still a few places left where you will 
see game that has never been hunted 
and have your hunting all to your¬ 
self. I can show you Elk, Mountain 
Sheep, Goats, Caribou, Moose, 
Grizzly Bears, in a country where 
the game has not become dwarfed 
from the conditions which always 
arise after hunting is started. I make 
all arrangements, and personally 
manage expedition, preserve troph¬ 
ies, etc., as hunter companion; ad¬ 
vise as to purchase of firearms and 
cameras, and give instructions in 
shooting, and wild game photog¬ 
raphy. References. Address: 
C. T. SUMMERSON, 
1328 Broadway, New York City. 
NEWFOUNDLAND. 
Do you want good salmon or trout fishing? Or to shoot 
the lordly caribou? Apply J. R. WHITAKER, 
Bungalow, Grand Lakes, Newfoundland. 
Lake Tahoe 
FALLEN LEAF LODGE offers the tourist and 
sportsmen absolutely 
the best FISHING and HUNTING in the whole Tahoe 
region. Comfortable accommodations, a good table. Indian 
guides, horses, launches and canoes at moderate prices. 
Address the manager 
William W. Price, Fallen Leaf, Lake Tahoe, Cal. 
September Fly-Fishing 
Deer and Moose Later 
can be found at Howes’ Camps on First Debsconeag 
Lake. Finest of fly-fishing at our camps on Rainbow 
Lake and at outlying ponds. Splendid accommodation 
for the ladies. Guides at camp. Hunting in a section 
where there are deer and moose in plenty. References 
from Forest and Stream readers, who know. 
HERBERT M. HOWES, Debsconeag, Me. 
(Telegraph address: “Norcross.”) 
Mossingforri Shooting Lodge —Having rented 6400 
acres of excellent shooting can receive sportsmen forth¬ 
with. Deer, Quail, Cock, Duck, Rabbits. Hounds kept. 
First-class cuisine; 400 yards from Depot. Eighty miles 
from Richmond. Terms, $25 per week, including use of 
dogs and keeper. 
W. SCUDAMORE, Saxe, Charlotte Co., Va. 
FISHING AND HUNTING. 
September and October for sea trout, channel bass and 
other fish. December, January and February for duck, 
quail and rabbit shooting. At accommodations. 
A. H. G. MEARS, Wachapreague, Eastern Shore, Va. 
I have just built a new sporting camp at Brandy Pond. 
It is in one of the finest game counties for moose and 
deer in Maine. For further information address: 
SOLOMON PERKINS, 
12 Smyrna Mills, Aroostook County, Me. 
Big Game Hunting. Rocky Mountains.—Best of guides 
and hunters. Well equipped pack train and camping 
outfit. Elk, deer, bear and mountain sheep. Address 
12 J. K. ROLLINSON, Painter, Wyo. 
The “ Game Laws in Brief ” gives all the fish 
and game laws of the United States and Can= 
ada. It is complete and so accurate that the 
editor can afford to pay a reward for an 
error found in it. “ If the Brief says so, you 
may depend on it.” Sold by all dealers. 
Price, twenty=five cents. Edition for season 
of 1911=12 just published. 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
127 Franklin Street, New York. 
ANGLING MEMORIES 
Seasonable Books for the Sportsman’s Library 
MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH 
MY ANGLING FRIENDS 
Both by FRED MATHER 
These two volumes are a source of endless delight to the fisherman. They 
deal with every phase of the gentle sport from bent pins and willow poles to 
salmon flies and special rods—with every kind of fish as well. 
They are full of a quaint philosophy, written with a rare appreciation of human 
nature, and comprising sketches of angling “characters” as well as well-known men 
who were Mr. Mather’s brethren of the angle. Much of other sport and adventure 
beside fishing will be found between the covers of these books. These two large, 
splendidly bound, splendidly printed, and richly illustrated volumes of 400 pages 
each regularly sell for $2 each. While they last we offer 
Both together, postpaid, for $3.00 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY, NEW YORK 
roar of the foss, the spray wetting one through, 
the swirling of the river, the tossing of the 
little boat, the great rocks sticking up every¬ 
where—all these things made me quite nervous! 
I had no luck, so we went again into mid-stream. 
Iver never allowed the boat to be still, but 
gently rowed up and down, keeping to mid¬ 
stream, near and close over some deep pools, 
where the river was a dark oily brown. I trolled 
with a fairly long line “atte lengthe,” as Izaak 
Walton says, using a fly with a dark body 
whipped round with gold and a tiny silver 
thread, the wings gray with a mixture of brown, 
orange and scarlet—a gaudy fly, but not too 
bright for the dark pools of the Namsen. I 
have the fly by me as I write, and its colors, 
after twenty-five years, are still distinct and gay. 
I kept the fly in constant motion in the water, 
now drawn with the stream and then against 
it. Still I had no luck; when suddenly my rod 
was nearly wrenched out of my hands. I man¬ 
aged to give a firm strike, and felt I had hooked 
something. There was a furious tugging and 
commotion in the water, and away we raced 
down stream. The sleeves of my dress and 
jacket were torn out, my hair was down, and I 
must have been a fit subject for a post-impres¬ 
sionist! Nothing seemed to matter except the 
fish. Iver said gruffly, “Big fish. Keep rod 
up.” No other words were spoken, no sounds 
heard but the waters of the foss, the play of 
the reel, and the occasional splash of the angry 
fish. When we neared the shallow water of the 
rapids the fish turned and headed for the foss 
and the deep pools. In our mad race we once 
or twice caught sight of the fish, and saw that 
he was very big. He never again went for the 
rapids. 
For nearly two hours I played him. Being 
big and heavy, he had been exhausted by his 
furious rush, and he once or twice lay quite still 
and quiet. If it had not been for these quiet 
moments I could not have held out, for I was 
growing exhausted, too. Suddenly, after a final 
struggle, there was a dead calm; the fish sank 
to the bottom behind a rock near the shore. 
We got the boat as near to the shore as we 
could. By degrees I gently drew him nearer 
and nearer in. At last, with a great effort, Iver 
bent over the side of the boat and firmly gaffed 
him. We slipped the net under him, and soon 
had him lying full length on the green grass. 
He was a male fish, with a tremendous hooked 
jaw, a mighty tail, a fine head, and weighed 5 7/4 
pounds. He measured over four feet from nose 
to the tip of his tail, and his thickest girth was 
about two feet two inches. He looked enorm¬ 
ous as he lay there, and very noble. We ad¬ 
mired the beauty of the blackish spots on his 
silver sides and the fine lines of his shape. I 
was filled with a great wonder at my capture, 
but when I remembered his fierce and gallant 
struggle for life, I wished him back again—a 
king—in the Namsen River. 
We made a drawing of him on the wooden 
dado of the fishing house, and then we laid him 
on some sheets of newspaper joined together 
and cut out his size and shape. I still have this 
rough memento and the hook with which he was 
caught. In the end we gave him to the fisher¬ 
men to cut up for “lax,” and the last I saw of 
our huge friend he was in a sack tied round a 
fisherman’s neck, and was thus ignominiously 
trailed through the long grass to his bitter end. 
When our time came for leaving “Arcadie,” 
as we drove down to the coast the river men in 
the little villages turned out to shake hands 
with the Englishwoman who had caught the big 
fish. In remembering these dear, delightful days 
of long ago, this, I think, pleases me most of all. 
Thus ended the capture of the big fish. 
Many men, pipe in mouth, have bent over the 
paper slip and talked to me of my luck, but 
most fishers in Norwegian waters will probably 
agree with me in thinking that an active salmon 
of, say, 16 pounds gives more real sport and 
greater skill than the capture of the big fish 
I have described. This simple account may 
interest those who care for the “pleasant curi¬ 
osity of fish and fishing.” In these noisy days 
of motors and politics, can any one do better 
than “be quiet and go a angling”? 
