822 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Recent Publications. 
The Tent Dwellers, by Albert Bigelow Paine. 
Cloth, 280 pages, illustrated by Hy. Watson, 
$1.50. New York, the Outing Publishing 
Company. 
Like “The Van Dwellers,” this is pure, rol¬ 
licking fun from cover to cover. The narrator 
is a greenhorn who sees the humerous side of 
everything, while “Eddie,” serious in his con¬ 
cealment behind his big glasses and woods-grown 
whiskers, innocently provides fun for every 
occasion. In December, they plan a fishing trip 
into the back woods of Nova Scotia; for the 
next four months they collect books and cata¬ 
logues and outfits; in April Eddie goes on ahead, 
to be sure everything is made ready; in June 
they start out, loaded down with paraphernalia 
of every description. They canoe and camp and 
fish and experience the usual mishaps that beset 
the trail of voyagers—only these are described 
in a way no one can resist. At one place they 
make camp in a rain with one trout for supper 
for four husky men, whereupon the cook sug¬ 
gests canned salmon, to meet with instant reproof 
from Eddie, who scorns Columbia River salmon 
in camp on a Nova Scotia trout stream and 
orders beans instead. 
In one place Mr. Paine wonders what mos¬ 
quitoes were made for. When this chapter ap¬ 
peared in Outing, Frederic Remington wrote 
him that “they were created to aid civilization— 
otherwise no man not an idiot would live any¬ 
where else than in the woods.” 
In “Eddie,” readers of the book will recog¬ 
nize an old friend, for every sportsman knows 
just such a character. He goes into the woods 
loaded down with all sorts of articles of doubt¬ 
ful value, is continually acquiring experience at 
large cost, rides his hobbies furiously until their 
uselessness is known, then discards them at the 
trail side for other fads, and so on. In the 
recital of these experiments, and in other ways 
Mr. Paine has incorporated in the book a fund 
of sound woodcraft and camp lore. The pic¬ 
tures are among Hy. Watson’s best. 
Is This a Fish Sfory? 
St. John’s, N. F., Nov. 9 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: Just this time last year I sent to Forest 
and Stream an account of a whale captured at 
Trinity. It was killed near there on Sept. 11, 
1907. It was not as remarkable for its size as 
for the contents of its stomach when opened. 
It contained one large shark nine feet long in 
such a fresh condition that it was evident it had 
been very recently swallowed ; two large halibut 
in good condition, and one in an advanced stage 
of decomposition; and about fifty codfish of 
various sizes. Was not this a very large cargo 
of fish for one small whale? 
At that time I mooted the question whether 
the story of Jonah was not more likely to be 
a literal fact, as people believed for ages, than 
an allegorical story, as the higher critics have 
lately declared it. 
I have been reminded of the foregoing by the 
fact that the employes of the Trinity factory 
claimed that they have captured the real simon 
pure this fall, being none other than the very 
whale that Jonah had occupied as a hotel for 
three days, then had cut his way out, leaving 
damning evidence behind him. They say they 
have secured the very whale with the very 
hatchet that Jonah left behind him in his hurry. 
When someone pooh-poohed this idea they pro¬ 
duced the hatchet and wanted to know if it 
were not Jonah’s hatchet, whose hatchet was it? 
Everyone knew that Jonah had lived three days 
in the belly of a whale, and history, sacred or 
profane, ancient or modern, does not give any 
record of any other voyager taking a cruise in 
an exactly similar submarine. 
The truth of this story is vouched for by the 
editor of the Trinity Enterprise, who says: 
“A most remarkable find was made at the 
Whale Factory on Thursday last. While en¬ 
gaged in dissecting a whale—one of the finback 
species—an old fashioned hatchet with handle 
about three feet long, was discovered in the 
entrails of the leviathan. The hatchet is much 
rusted and bears every evidence of having been 
a long time submerged or lying within the whale. 
“I never realized before what a crazy thing a canoe 
can be when you want it to do something out of its 
regular line of work.” 
(From “The Tent Dwellers.”) 
“A representative of the Enterprise visited 
the factory recently and was shown the hatchet 
and can Vouch for the correctness of this story. 
The story is also vouched for by Mr. Kavanagh, 
foreman, who was the first to discover the 
hatchet, and also by Mr. Sinnott, manager. 
“Many opinions are given as to where the 
whale picked up the hatchet, none of which of 
course can be verified. What makes the dis¬ 
covery more remarkable is that most authorities 
claim that this species of whale can swallow 
only very small fish or other objects, and the 
fact of the hatchet being found in the entrails 
of this fish goes to prove that he at least was 
capable of carrying out more than the ordinary 
swallowing contract.” W. J. Carroll. 
Unsatisfactory Bass Fishing. 
Philadelphia, Pa., Nov. 4.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: I want to congratulate “Happy Jack” 
on the luck he had bass fishing at Richmond 
Dam, both as to numbers and weight. My ex¬ 
perience was different. I went to a lake in the 
Adirondacks, very beautiful, indeed, but had 
very poor luck. I caught but few bass and only 
about iJ4 pounds in weight. I still have his kind 
letter of directions and hope some day to try 
my luck there. B. R. 
[Nov. 21, 1908. 
— 
An Appreciation of John Enright. 
And so Mr. John Enright is dead—Mr. 
Johnny “Inright,” as the Castleconnell pro¬ 
fessionals, his warm nad appreciative admirers, 
affectionately loved to call him—and has not 
left his like behind as a wielder of that type of 
salmon rod with which the name of the firm of 
which he has long been the head, will be for 
ever identified. A year or so ago some form 
of phthisic trouble, that terrible scourge of our 
country, laid hold of him, and though his fine 
physique offered a stubborn resistance to the 
insidious enemy, it was all in vain, says Mona 
in the Irish Field. 
He was at the Stadium Angling Competition 
in London during the summer, but only as a 
spectator, though at the request of a few of his 
admirers, he did give a few casts; but it was 
evident he was no longer the man he had been. 
A month or two ago, having a little business 
with the firm, I learned with much gratifica¬ 
tion that he appeared to be mending. But, 
alas! it was not to be, and now, at the early 
age of forty-four, the champion fly-caster of 
the world has laid down the rod for ever. 
He was a man rather below the middle height, 
with the chest and arms of the trained athlete, 
and his powerful and graceful handling of a fly- 
rod on the salmon water of Donass was a great 
treat to witness. His kindly simplicity of char¬ 
acter and complete absence of anything like 
side or affectation, endeared him to all brought 
into intimate contact with him, and his untimely 
death will be mourned even by many who 
cared or knew but little of fishing or fly-casting. 
In “The Science of Dry-Fly Fishing” by Mr. 
F. G. Shaw, the author, who is one of the most 
accomplished anglers we have, and a most cap¬ 
able instructor in the art of the fisherman, 
writes with a genuine modesty and due ap¬ 
preciation which do him credit: 
“I myself caught trout when four years of 
age. and * * * have fished for over thirty- 
six years in most parts of the world, but I never 
knew the real science of casting until 1896, when 
Mr. John Enright, of Castleconnell, took me in 
hand.” 
To this tribute it is unnecessary to add any¬ 
thing except it be a respectful and heartful ex¬ 
pression of sympathy and condolence with the 
bereaved mourners in the pretty and peaceful 
Shannon-side village of Castleconnell, where 
he died. 
Angling tournaments we probably owe like 
so many other “new notions” to America, 
where these functions have long been most 
popular sporting gatherings, and largely at¬ 
tended, even by numbers who knew very little 
about fishing. But our cousins are a wonderful 
people, and possess an amount of gregarious 
sympathy quite surprising in so hard-headed a 
race. They are, in fact, very human, and so, as 
the philosopher says it should do, everything 
that interests any section of humanity interests 
them. And a very amiable characteristic this 
same vicarious enjoyment of pleasure is. 
Distinguished fly-fishers, whose casting 
powers were an astonishment and delight to 
those who witnessed them, we have always had 
with us, but no effort seems ever to have been 
seriously made to bring these masters together 
and invite the public to come and see what they 
(Continued on page 834.) 
