452 
FOREST AND STREAM 
SMOKE 
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IT’S GREAT 
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And though I spent a week to catch Him; 
though I spent long hours to catch Him; though 
He was the only one that I did catch; and 
though He cost me fifty dollars, and weighed 
(not quite) one pound; yet did I have my rec¬ 
ompense in silent communion with Nature; in 
the soothing of nerves, and the oblivion of dis¬ 
tractions; yet would I fly this minute eagerly 
if I but could, to repeat the performance. 
NEAR TO NATURE. 
Lovers of nature will find in the new kind of 
picture, called “Lumino's” something to satisfy 
them as a remarkable reproduction of Nature it¬ 
self. The inventor, Mr. William C. Cornwell, 
ha's given the name “Cornwell Luminos” to the 
product. A “Lumino” i's executed on glass or 
other transparent surface, with strong light back 
of it, which pours through translucent colored 
papers, modeled in thin or thick layers or masses 
to represent the subject sought. It is difficult 
to believe that they are produced in this way, 
as the effect is that of oil-paintings, except that 
they have an unusual quality of natural beauty. 
This is due to the fact that, while painters en¬ 
deavor to reproduce color, form, and light, in 
these the light is real and only color and form 
are simulated. The result is that one seems to 
be looking out of a window on real scenes. 
Two of the pictures “Dawn in the Woods” and 
“The Bather,” are reproduced in this article. 
The print gives some idea of the atmosphere 
which the process permits, but the beauty of col¬ 
or and soft natural light can be seen only in the 
originals themselves. 
These pictures have only just been perfected, 
and their uses have not been developed, but 
for interior decorations, in panels, friezes and 
ceilings, they appear to be capable of widely-ex¬ 
tended employment, as well as for the produc¬ 
tion of effective stage scenery. 
THIS BASS WANTED SURGICAL AID. 
Crane Pond, Essex Co., N. Y., Sept. 21, 1914 - 
Editor Forest and Stream : 
Nothing is truer than the old saying among 
woodsmen that they do not dare tell one-half 
of the strange things that happen in the wild 
forests because outsiders would not believe them 
if they did. One often sees these tenderfeet 
nudge each other and exchange glances when 
some honest sportsman is modestly relating a 
perfectly natural experience of his, which to 
them is simply ridiculous. They are in the po¬ 
sition olf the learned men once upon a time who 
scouted a scientist's theory that the world is 
round- They said: “It cannot be; it is con¬ 
trary to experience.” So when our indefatigable 
angler, Mr. Stevens of Cincinnati, down at Eagle 
Lake the other day was relating the experience 
of a brother angler, an incredulous person said: 
“I know Mr. F. very well, and am sure that he 
never told any 'such story as you have related.” 
Well, here’s the story, briefly told: One morn¬ 
ing, about Sept. 15, a camper put out from shore 
just opposite Fox Island. He had not gone fifty 
yards from his pier when he had an awful strike 
on his hand trolling line. Whatever it was broke 
all rules and started to run away from the angler. 
He held the object for a moment and then a 
mildewed spot near the card caused the line to 
break in his hand, and before he could secure 
the running end it went over the stern. No¬ 
thing daunted, the fisherman ran up to his camp 
and brought down an old tin spoon tied to a 
fine trout line. The hooks were covered with a 
hunch of Plymouth Rock chicken feathers and 
the outfit resembled a bedraggled mouse trying 
to make for shore. 
In less than a minute after starting out again 
the big mate of old No. 1. was fast on the trout 
line and the angler was working her out into 
deep water off the island. The great prize lay 
right alongside the rear seat of the little blue 
skiff, used as a canoe, and several times had 
the fisherman tried the Canuck or Indian method 
of gaffing her by the eye sockets, but the 
wary game had taken a header each time the 
spread fingers of the left hand moved up along 
her back splashing the man with her tail. 
At that instant, within 50 feet of the capture, 
old No. 1. shot clean out of the water, shaking 
the big copper spoon which was hooked firmly 
outside his jaws and consequently, caused his 
breathing apparatus no inconvenience. He just 
wanted to get rid of his surplus amalgamated 
copper stock, that was all. The big fish repeated 
this jump once or twice and then a thought 
seized the angler. Why not try a snap shot at 
No. 1. with the good Baker shotgun lying in 
the boat before him? With a great pike well 
hooked under the rail of the skiff, he slipped 
the line between his teeth and prepared to take 
pike No. 1. in an entirely original way, and be¬ 
ing a sure shot had reasonable chances of suc¬ 
cess. But, alas, from some reason, the great fish 
did not again rise in the vicinity of his captured 
mate, but broke water again 100 yards distant, 
spoon and 75 feet of line still trailing, and so 
the chance for a world record was lost perhaps 
forever. The finger hook scheme worked the 
next time and Mrs. No. 1. was soon in the boat. 
She was just 37 inches long and in beautiful 
condition. Her weight, according to Forest and 
Stream estimates, would be upward of 16 pounds. 
The flesh was of a delicate pink color and very 
sweet. Well; this is the story that was disbe¬ 
lieved, but 1 assure you that every word is true 
because the writer was the sole actor in the 
little drama. 
But, while we are about it, here is another 
puzzler for the neophyte: Mr. Emil Rumpp, of 
Flushing, N. Y., was fishing for pike in Eagle 
Lake lately in company with his wife, using 
shiners and small perch for bait. 
After a while he had a hard strike on a live 
perch but failed to hook his game. Reeling in 
slowly, the bait was found to be missing, and 
the angler realized that he had struck too soon. 
So he baited up again and cast the outfit, float 
and all, far from the boat. 
A few minutes later his wife called his at¬ 
tention to a great black bass 'that seemed to be 
in great distress. It was swimming slowly on 
top of the water half on its side, and Mr. Rumpp 
had no difficulty in lifting it in. 
Great was his surprise to find the identical 
perch bait that he had just lost firmly lodged 
in the bass’ throat. It had tried to swallow the 
perch tail first, and the spring of the rod which 
failed to set the hook home had instead spiked 
a long back fin firmly into the mouth of the 
larger fish and had dragged the hook out of the 
bait’s mouth. 
Well, Mr. Rumpp performed “the surgical 
operation,” as he expresses it, with great suc¬ 
cess, and returned the big bass to its element to 
see what it would do. It lay there thinking 
matters over for some time, when it suddenly 
found out that all was well and darted off to 
join its kind. Now, the question arises: Did 
that bass realize the necessity of human inter¬ 
vention to relieve it from certain death and make 
it cast aside all its former timidity and approach 
its Elder Brother for aid? 
The house cat in time- o'f forest fire brings 
her kittens to the lodge mistress, one by one, 
and then goes off to stand guard over the house. 
Or a phoebe bird comes within reach of the 
hunter with a plaintive request that its young 
one be released from a horse-hair that had 
snared it and made flight from the parent nest 
impossible? 
Apropos of the coming deer hunting sea¬ 
son what will happen to the sportsman who 
chances to kill a doe having horns more 
than 3 inches long. The law permits the 
killing of deer having horns more than 3 
inches in length and the legislators as¬ 
sumed that female deer never have horns, and 
yet Alanson Moore, our most experienced 
hunter and crack rifle shot has to his record no 
fewer than two does, taken some years ago 
when the law was off them, each of which he 
