6 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 6, 1912. 
wagon road. Thinking at the time that wagon of the individual was not noted, and he was of 
traffic might interfere with navigation further a dark, somber hue somewhat resembling char- 
down near the mouth, we proceeded toward the coal on a dark night, in which case the edible 
Arkansas River, at which point we were more string was acquired through those mysterious 
than glad that we had not brought the canvas tactics involving cabalistically treated grub worms 
folding boat. And this omission was the only and rabbit liver, or powerful incantations said 
A GROUP OF BLUE RIDGE BEAR HUNTERS. 
Photograph by Frank H. Bicknell. 
consolation \\e had, as we bucked a thirty-five- 
mile wind across six miies of open prairie back 
to Boynton. A story of the six-rour.d go I had 
with Dame Rumor will not be told here. It be¬ 
longs on the sporting page. 
Another element which renders this sort of 
pioneering more or less precarious is the very 
broad definition of the word fish. In Colorado 
it is localized to mean trout; in Wisconsin, bass, 
pike, pickerel and others of a like muideious 
tribe; in Florida, bass, perch, pike, etc.; in the 
—I have never fished there. But in Okla¬ 
homa it may mean yellow-bellied catfish, pretty 
but mushy hickory shad; the Ka ser’s favorite, 
carp, or half brothers to the royal delicacy, drum 
and buffaio. Through some universally recog¬ 
nized telepathic sense of fact of animate life the 
disgusting gar, he with the rhombic coat-of-mail, 
is never included. I have found on rare occas¬ 
ions that it also means bass. Now, this is an¬ 
noying but logical, because the country is a new 
one. Many streams have never been fished w.th 
artificial bait, and others but rarely and inc.- 
dentally by infrequent hunting parties. Excur¬ 
sions into the isolated parts are never made for 
fishing exclusively, and information concerning 
those streams is to be had only after tedious 
inquiry, and positive knowledge only after going 
there and pioneering with modern tackle. 
“I seen a feller cornin’ from there with R 
string o’ fish” may mean that the “feller” was 
an Indian, in which case he gum-shoed on over¬ 
hanging logs, and with a dexterousness born of 
generations of practice threw a fourteen-foot 
spear into the backs of unsuspecting catfish hog- 
suckers and occasionally a bass. And it may 
mean that in the hasty glance bestowed the color 
over the cooking of doughballs with cotton, or 
which is more easily understood, and yet equally 
shrouded in occultism, expectoration placed on 
writhing, white-ringed earthworms. 
An entire Sunday is devoted to the investiga¬ 
tion of one of these rumors. The “clear run¬ 
ning stream’’ proves to be a succession of mud- 
holes in which a few sluggish catfish are almost 
domesticated through long fraternizing with the 
hogs. This is discouraging, albeit one recovers 
during the following week and is ready to pioneer 
some more; that is, some of us are ready. Roy 
Nabers, of Pryor, and A. B. Randle, of Okla¬ 
homa City, are immune from discouragement. 
Roy and I broke the spell when we tried Choteau 
Creek a year ago. It was one of the exceptions 
and produced large numbers of fine bass until 
the refuse from recently drilled oil wells near it 
killed or drove away the fish. We also tried 
Big Cabin Creek and found it unfit for bait¬ 
casting, although other than game fish were 
caught in it by still-fishermen. 
Pryor Creek is still another that was tested 
by Roy and myself. A pretty stream, long, deep 
holes that ’ook like ideal water for bass, and 
probably are, but the bass evidently do not ap¬ 
preciate them. Bass are not a noted salt water 
fish and there flows into Pryor a number of 
salt water wells. The day on Pryor Creek was 
saved from utter failure by discovering a very 
small tributary named Sulphur Creek, scarcely 
a damn spot where it empties into Pryor, and 
the urinitiated would not suspect a sizeable 
stream further up. As I have said before, it 
is characteristic of the streams in Oklahoma to 
be larger a distance froln their mouths. It 
seems that this fact is caused by the heavy rains 
bringing down soil and depositing it in the creek 
bed at and near the mouth through which the 
water seeps. Sulphur is one of them and a 
typical prairie creek. For miles not a tree nor 
a bush. Naturally following the draws of the 
rolling prairie, it is free from any ornamenta¬ 
tion except the original grass which grows to 
its brink. Here was fine casting, and we brought 
away as many bass and black perch as we 
wanted. Nabers has gone there since and taken 
out bass weighing three and four pounds. 
Of course we know the streams in which it 
is a certainty that bass will be caught provided 
the angler has a certain degree of proficiency. 
There is Barren Fork and the Illinois River, on 
which are located fishing clubs, but who wants 
a certainty? Who shall you blame if unsuccess¬ 
ful on a stream of established reputation ? Think 
of the excuse, the most satisfactory and satis¬ 
fying excuse, if failure is the result on one un¬ 
known. \Vell, it is nearly always so, but in the 
case of Brushy Creek my reputation received a 
jolt. I located Brushy about twenty-five miles 
north of Muskogee and selected Bob Jones as 
a victim. In July, I think it was, and we both 
want to forget the terrific heat of that day. We 
covered the entire length of the creek, walking 
a total distance of about eighteen miles, carry¬ 
ing packs, and were deprived of drinking water 
from 4:30 A. M. until 7 P. m. The creek water 
was covered with si green scum, and any fish in 
it must have taken its liquid refreshment through 
a filter. However, one or two bass made a feeb'e 
roll toward Bob’s minnow, which was a good 
enough basis for telling it more interestingly. 
Among those who heard and remembered was 
Felix Cast, and Felix is slightly imbued with 
the pioneer spirit, too. After the late fall rains 
Felix went to Brushy alone, found the creek 
flushed cleanly, and took out a four-pounder and 
two three-pounders. Then of course I had to 
explain in detail the condition of the water when 
Bob and I were there. 
Nabers and I could not get accurate informa¬ 
tion concerning Spavinaw Creek, yet we took our 
chances and went there for a week. I wrote 
the story for Forest and Stream about the won¬ 
derful fishing we had, and received many in¬ 
quiries about it. Since then numerous parties 
have gone there and all have had great success. 
That is one of the high lights of pioneering. 
More recently the disappointments were offset 
again. Randle shared with me in this triumph. 
I discovered it on the map and traced it for 
fifteen miles from where it flows into the Arkan¬ 
sas at a point four miles below the historic town 
of Fort Gibson, to the Cherokee Insane Asylum, 
several miles from a railroad. I shall tell you 
the name because I always do that, and anyway 
you can easily locate it on a map of the com¬ 
mission to the Five Civilized Tribes, Maynard 
Bayou, though why it is called a bayou I cannot 
say. It is very much a creek, and a pretty one. 
In places its earth and slate banks are a hun¬ 
dred feet high; at another point on one side is 
a rock cliff 150 feet high, and it was there that 
Rand’e saw a wolf. There are pretty falls about 
one hundred feet long with a total drop of 
twent3r-five feet. Above these falls the best fish¬ 
ing is to be had. 
The interurban placed us in Fort Gibson be¬ 
fore the ghosts of Jefferson Davis and other 
celebrities, who made the place their stamping 
ground in the early days, had retired from re- 
