May 8, 1909.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
741 
Trout Fishing in North Carolina. 
Hendersonville, N. C., April 29. —Editor 
Forest and Stream: Yesterday promised to be 
the right kind of a day for rainbow trout fish¬ 
ing. Feeling pretty sure of this the day before, 
I made up my mind to go. The 8 o’clock train 
was on time and I was at the station with fly- 
rod, flies, etc., and also a hand satchel with dry 
clothes to change on return to Zirconia station 
after my day in the river. Zirconia is just 
eight miles south of Hendersonville and quite 
near to Green River. I determined to go up 
the river and this necessitated a walk of three 
and a half miles to get above the dammed 
water, a dam having been built the past year at 
the top of the falls, backing the water two and 
a half miles up the stream. I got a lift for a 
mile by wagon. It was, therefore, nearly ii 
across the pool to some driftwood lodged 
against a large rock. 
I did not like his being there, as I must pass 
that way again, so I returned to the bank, put 
my rod down, got a large stick and began a 
hunt for him. He was so still I did not at 
first see him. His head I soon located about 
six feet from me on a log and his tail still in 
the water. I struck at the head and the stick 
broke, but the stroke was enough to put him 
hors du combat till I got another, and I then 
finished him and took him out of the water. I 
cut off the rattles (eight) and got his measure, 
a little over four feet, and quite thick through. 
Then I went on fishing. 
Just a little higher up I struck some fine 
riffle water and took trout here and there, 
mostly with the gauze wing and royal coach¬ 
man. At 3 o’clock I started down stream till 
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That the indefinable charm of Alaska is re¬ 
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Anecdotes concerning the miners, the visitors 
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anglers wading a trout stream. green river falls, north CAROLINA. 
o'clock in the forenoon before I had assembled 
my little fly-rod, and with a six-foot drawn 
gut leader, or cast, stepped into the water. The 
tail fly, a royal coachman, then a gauze wing 
with peacock body, and the upper dropper a 
cinnamon brown. 
I fished up stream about two hundred yards 
without a rise and then stopped to whip thor¬ 
oughly a pretty bit of water I had never failed 
at before. After casting well over this water 
for some minutes without' result, I said to my¬ 
self, “That’s strange, I thought surely I would 
have caught at least one here.” Then with 
that thought came my trout, but he missed the 
flies and so I gave him a rest while I cast else¬ 
where for a little while and then giving him 
another chance he made good use of it and I 
soon had him in my creel. Five more I took 
there on my return down stream some hours 
later. 
Coming next to some deadwater I got out and 
walked through the woods till again I came 
within hearing of the rush of water and I got 
back in it. I had but two or three trout in 
^ my creel and was in the shallow water up 
stream from a long pool to get the advantage 
of the wind that was making it difficult to .place 
my flies right from any other quarter, when I 
saw a large snake go into the water about 
thirty yards below me. He crawled up on a 
rock some fifteen feet from the bank and’took 
a good look at me. I saw then he was a rattler. 
He slid down into the water and swam right 
I reached the backwater of the dam, then I 
got out and walked two miles till I reached the 
falls. Then began some of the prettiest sport 
I ever had in this stream and now they seemed 
to prefer the cinnamon brown fly, and I caught 
enough in a half hour to complete my twelve- 
pound basket. I had at mid-day dressed thir¬ 
teen of the trout, so this made room for more, 
and I wanted some for certain friends. 
The fishing was at its best when I stopped, 
and had thirty-four trout—an altogether enjoy¬ 
able day.' I never changed color of flies all 
day. When trout had used up the royal coach¬ 
man and gauze wing, I simply replaced with 
same kind of flies. I used only one cinnamon 
brown. 
Last week we planted 20,000 rainbow and 
brook trout. Ernest L. Ewban. 
Another Angler Drowned. 
While fishing in the River Maine early in 
April, Lieutenant Christopher W. Cookson. of 
the First Battalion Rifle Brigade, Belfast, Ire¬ 
land, lost his footing, and was carried into deep 
water. He was unable to get on his feet again, 
but was drowned in sight of a companion, who 
barely escaped with his own life in the swift 
and deep water. As Lieutenant Cookson was 
wearing heavy wading boots and probably car¬ 
ried a creel, landing net, etc., it seems certain 
he was prevented from swimrning, though only 
a short time elapsed ere help came to the two 
men who were struggling in the water. 
not care to lay it aside until he has read it all 
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Adventures With Four-Footed Folic, compiled 
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In this book for boys the author has pre¬ 
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mote corners of the earth. All of the anecdotes 
are short, most of them are thrilling, and in the 
main they detail the accidental encounters be¬ 
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and reptiles. 
Life and Sport in Hampshire, by George A. 
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illustrations from photographs, $3 net. New 
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The life-long observations of a veteran sports¬ 
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“The Book of the Dry Fly,” “Wild Life in 
Hampshire Highlands,” etc. 
