Sept. ,30, 1911.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
517 
picturesque island near its lower end. On both 
of these two lakes we saw a salmon net, which 
roused 11 s to wrathful indignation. Wholly apart 
from any sportsmanlike feeiing over such ig¬ 
noble practices as applied to noble fish, we knew 
they were illegal as the law is clear upon the 
subject and specifically forbids the setting of 
salmon nets above the tide. We visited each in 
turn, pulled them up to see if any fish had been 
captured, disarrayed them thoroughly, but hardly 
dared to visit the proper penalty upon the mis¬ 
creant owner by destroying them. 
Approaching the lower end of Durkess Lake, 
where it debouches toward its outlet on the west, 
we saw a green canvas canoe drawn up on the 
rocks, and nearby a white tent gleaming amid 
the trees on a pretty grassy knoil just opposite 
the rapid commencement of the Indian Falls. 
We all went ashore and were cordially greeted 
by C. C. Richards, of Yarmouth, and his friend, 
Air. Suttie. They were camped there for a turn 
at the June run of salmon. Our attention was 
immediately drawn to a little low gig nearby. It 
was fitted with a couple of light iron cradles 
lined with carpet and the purpose of this ingeni¬ 
ous vehicle was to carry the green canoe. Mr. 
Richards told us that he had purchased the 
pretty knoll and two or three acres of adjacent 
land from the Indian owner and thereby had se¬ 
cured the top salmon pool on the river. When¬ 
ever the spirit moved him—and I fancy from the 
gleam in his eyes that the movements came with 
sufficient frequency—he would get out his auto¬ 
mobile, load on it his camping outfit and a sim¬ 
ilarly minded friend, and towing the gig with the 
canoe lashed fast, run the twenty-four miles up 
from Yarmouth. He could bring his car within 
a mile or so of his camp and leave it in a barn. 
Could anything have been more ideal? 
Mr. Richards’ tent was neatness itself and its 
perfect appointments were admirable. The light 
folding cots, the little table with a cribbage board 
upon it, the tiny camp stools, and particularly 
the collapsible sheet iron stove with its telescop¬ 
ing stove pipe extending through an asbestos- 
protected opening in the roof of the tent, all indi¬ 
cated a tent dwelling style quite superior to our 
own. 
Air. Richards gave us some useful hints as to 
where we might fish for salmon, indeed, wanted 
us to stay and try our luck on his pool—but the 
shadows were lengthening across the water, so 
we pushed on. We were in the current of Indian 
Falls as soon as we moved away from the shore, 
but we had no trouble and wasted no time in 
running through the half-mile of rough water. 
Then came a stretch of gentler current, another 
falls of short length but considerable momentum 
where a picturesque old man was dipping for 
gaspereau, stiil another reach followed by some 
boisterous water, and we swung around a bend 
to haul ashore at Tusket Forks. Through the 
field we walked to the only store, interviewed the 
pretty dark-eyed girl in charge, whose tongue 
was just as nimble in French as in English, 
listened to the soft dialect of the local “habi¬ 
tants", telephoned to Yarmouth and arranged 
for teams to meet us two days later at Tusket, 
and then paddled across the river to the island 
opposite. 
Here we pitched camp on the most delightful 
spot imaginable—a high slope, the blue river 
sweeping in a generous curve in front, the ground 
level and clothed with fine grass, and the whole 
sheltered by a magnificent grove of spruce and 
pine and fir. Under the trees stretched away 
long cathedral-like aisles carpeted with pine 
needles, while in the open spaces the newly 
spread fronds of ferns were gently waving in 
the soft breezes. Across the swiftly flowing river 
was the scattered village of Quinan, or Tusket 
Forks, populated entirely by picturesque French 
Canadians, soft spoken descendents of the primi¬ 
tive Arcadians. Evidently the camp site was a 
favorite picnic ground, for there was all ready for 
us a substantial rough board table, carved with 
the initials and queer French names of rustic 
M ANY years ago there resided in Monmouth 
county, New Jersey, a farmer who was 
of an ambitious and experimental nature; 
he had frequently heard that great profit was de¬ 
rived from the fishing industry, so accordingly, 
he determined to investigate further. Now, this 
farmer had two sons, and to the youngest son, 
Tom, he one day said: “Tom, hie thee to Asbury 
Park, and there get the necessary up-to-date 
paraphernalia for the purpose of fishing.” Tom, 
being a dutiful son, did as his father requested, 
and the next morning at 5 a. m. the father thus 
addressed them: to Bill, the eldest, he said, 
“Bill, go thee to the barn, there take the reaper 
and see what thou canst accomplish in the gar¬ 
nering of the wheat.” To Tom, the younger, he 
said, “Tom, hie thee to the beach and see what 
thou canst accomplish in the way of profit in 
catching fish.” 
Accordingly Bill took the reaping machine, 
worked all day in the fields, gathered in about 
forty-five bushels of wheat, and when night time 
came he ate his dinner, read his newspaper and 
went to bed. Tom hitched up the old gray mare 
to the lumber wagon, and after a long, weary 
ride, reached the sea-shore, where he tied the 
horse in the shade of some trees; he then pro¬ 
ceeded to the beach, and being of an economical 
frame of mind, he determined to try to get some 
sea clams for bait; accordingly he took off his 
shoes and stockings, rolled up his trousers and 
waded into the water, and, after an hour’s per¬ 
sistent effort, he did not succeed in getting one 
clam. He then purchased the necessary shedder 
crabs with which to capture the piscatorial prey; 
he cut the shedders in pieces, and, attaching a 
piece to his hook, cast far, far, out to sea. At 
last, after waiting patiently for fifteen minutes 
and not perceiving any activity at the other end 
of his line, he reeled in, and much to his sur¬ 
prise, the hook was as bare as a new born babe. 
He again baited his hook, with a similar result, 
and was greatly puzzled, until, after four or 
five occurrences of this character, he succeeded 
in bringing in his line with a sea crab gleefully 
feasting on the last remnant of his bait. 
Tom then found a cork, which he attached to 
his leader. This somewhat improved conditions, 
but still no bite. After posing in the sun as a 
statue for many weary hours, he at last felt a 
slight sensation at the other end of his line, and 
swains and maidens. But no bottles or empty 
cans marred the lovely prospect. A stone’s throw 
away was a salmon pool and just before dusk a 
lone fisherman came out and cast leisurely over 
it for awhile. 
After the dishes were washed and the tents 
arranged for the night, the guides got out from 
some mysterious place in their tiny kits, clean 
col'ars and neckties and paddled across to the 
village. We didn’t ask them where they were 
going—maybe it would’t have done us any good 
if we had—possibly, after all, that pretty girl 
wasn’t so uncommunicative after business hours. 
when pulling in, something kicked like a piece 
of paper in the undertow, which proved when 
brought upon the sand to be a flounder, which 
weighed 1 % pounds. 
Further endeavors seemed to be useless, and 
toward sunset he determined it was time to 
quit. The sun had been doing some quiet but 
nevertheless effective work, and the back of 
Tom’s neck was a mass of blisters, and when he 
gazed at his arms they were as if he had on 
terra-cotta gloves, and, to cap the climax, after 
standing in the surf all day, when he went to 
put on his shoes he found that they were much 
too small, and he had to split them down in the 
middle in order to get them on. On the way 
home he suffered untold agonies from his sun¬ 
burned arms, neck and feet, and when he arrived 
at the farm house, it was neecessary to send for 
a doctor, and he was laid up two weeks for 
repairs. 
The farmer’s ledger for that day appears 
somewhat as follows: 
BILL’S DAILY ACCOUNT. 
Dr. Ci\ 
Aug. 1. Aug. 1. 
Horse feed . $0.50 45 bushels of wheat 
Bill’s wages . 2.50 at $1 a bushel.$45.00 
Wear and tear. 1.00 
$4.00 - 
Profit for day. $41.00 
TOM’S DAILY ACCOUNT. 
Dr. 
Aug. 1. 
Horse feed . $0.50 
Fishing tackle . 14.55 
Shedder crabs ..50 
Cigars .50 
Tom’s wages, 10 days. 25.00 
New pr. of shoes- 3.00 
Doctor's bill . 22.00 
$00.05 
Loss for day- 
Underneath in the farmer's hand writing, was 
the following remark, “to blazes with fishing. 
Now the question arises, which is the hardest 
work—farming or fishing? If any of my read¬ 
ers were to be asked, as Bill was, to go out in 
the field for a day’s farming, you would say, as 
the o’cl man did about fishing, “To blazes with 
farming." On the other hand, if any of the 
boys were to say, “Come on, Tom, let s get up 
at five to-morrow and take a try for the 
stripers,” you would answer, “All right, old man, 
I’ll be there.” And now the question, “Why is 
it?” Well, all that T can say is, “I don’t know. 
I love it—that’s all.” 
The Experimental Farmer 
By HARTIE I. PHILLIPS 
Aug. 1. 
l! 41 bs. of flounders at 
retail price of 15c. 
per pound . $0.19 
