u.**AHV v. OF t. VftaAKA-ttiXKPMGH 
940 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Dec. ii, i 9 ° 9 - 
or fourteen years ago, I was employed as an 
assistant,” says Guide McArthur. “After 
stripping the lake fish, we marked 250 and re¬ 
turned them to the lake. Some went down into 
the stream, others into the lake. One year 
after we impounded 150 of the marked fish. 
This proved that most of the Grand Lake fish 
do not run to the sea, although I noticed that, 
after stripping the females and milting the 
males, they go into the stream and do just 
as they would have done if they had not been 
handled by us.” 
About a hundred yards below the dam at 
Grand Lake Stream is a sign as follows: “It is 
unlawful to fish between this point and the dam. 
It is unlawful to fish on this stream below this 
point, except with artificial flies in the usual 
way.— L. T. Carleton, Chairman; E. E. Ring, 
Secretary.” These men are of the Commis¬ 
sioners of Inland Fisheries and Game. Sec¬ 
tion 37, Chapter 32, of the revised statutes says: 
“Whoever fishes for, takes, catches, kills or 
destroys any inland fish, in any manner or at 
any time, in violation of any of the rules and 
regulatibns of the Commissioners of Inland 
Fisheries and Game, made and promulgated in 
conformity with the provisions of this chapter, 
shall be punished in the same manner and to 
the same extent as is provided for by law for 
the illegal taking, catching, killing or destroy¬ 
ing any such inland fish.” 
An Irishman said: “The best way to prevent 
what is past is to put a stop to it before it 
happens.” 
About four years ago Alonzo Stickney Bacon 
conceived the idea of utilizing the tail feathers 
of a cock of the barnyard as a lure for ouana- 
niche, so he tied some of these long white 
feathers to a fish hook and trailed same through 
the waters of Grand Lake and Stream. 
Previous to this a favorite lure had been a 
strip of pork rind cut to the shape of a minnow. 
Trolled through the water, or cast on the water 
and properly managed, either device some¬ 
what resembled a live chub; but the law pro¬ 
mulgated by the commissioners prohibited fish¬ 
ing on the stream, except with artificial flies 
in the usual way. Mr. Bacon called his device 
the white feather. He did not patent it. Other 
guides termed it the cock-a-doodle-doo. It was 
a taker. The Boston artificial flymakers imi¬ 
tated the fly, but called it the morning-glory. 
Roosters in Grand Lake Stream lost prestige 
with their harems when man ruthlessly plucked 
their tail feathers. A bob-tailed rooster is not 
a symmetrical fowl. Ouananiche foraging for 
live bait do not bother themselves about ap¬ 
pellations. 
When fishing with live bait was interdicted 
on Grand Lake Stream, minnows, helgramites, 
chubs, winged insects and crawling things were 
shut out. A long white or grayish-white hen’s 
feather trolled or drawn in the waters looks to 
a ouananiche like something alive, something 
they are accustomed to eat, so they take it. 
Thus the law is evaded, not violated, and the 
transgressor is exempt from punishment. 
“Them worm flies is going to be a mighty 
’♦taking thing in September,” predicted a guide 
one day; “but two hooks, gang-like, would be 
better than one.” 
The worm fly is a substitute evasion, made 
long and slender to simulate a worm, when 
trolled. It is steering close to the wind of 
legal prohibition to use a worm fly as a lure 
for ouananiche. The feathered hook that can 
deceive the wary ouananiche above the Great 
Falls must be deftly and delicately cast. Of 
the half-dozen fishermen sojourning at Ouan¬ 
aniche Lodge at one time, at least three knew 
every rock and ripple of the stream. The 
ouananiche is a delight to capture and more 
delicate than a salmon to eat. Ananias would 
be lonely there. Four or five of us exchanged 
daily experiences. The recitals were interest¬ 
ing without embellishment. The novices al¬ 
ways overestimate the weight of ouananiche 
and begin fishing by underestimating the skill 
required to catch them. Some brought flies 
so ill suited to the game and season, that sug¬ 
gestion and comment was made that they use 
the flies to decorate a woman’s hat with. No. 8 
dry-flies are best for early September fishing 
there. Black flies and nipping gnats, also day 
mosquitoes, exist locally. There are no fleas. 
A small vial of oil of citronella will keep off 
the black flies, but there is danger that your 
bunkie will be sorry you were born if you spill 
any of the citronella on your inside clothes. 
I would like to borrow the emotions of a ouan¬ 
aniche when he is hooked. Wine tastes best 
in the country where it is made. Fish taste 
best where they are caught. Declining years 
admonish me that envious time has robbed me 
of the increment of toothsome taste I had for 
freshly-caught fish cooked in the open air, but 
they still taste good and I forgive my host’s 
housekeeper for cramming my lunch box with 
doughnuts and slices of blueberry pie; residents 
of this plantation eat pie and doughnuts for 
breakfast as enjoyably as some Virginians 
known to me who never eat anything but 
bacon and eggs for breakfast the year round. 
Philip Reade. 
[to be concluded.] 
A Season’s Fishing. 
A Trout with a History. 
The mascot of the Inverness railway men 
passed away recently, in the shape of a brown 
trout, whose life history was somewhat peculiar. 
In the Field a correspondent says that the fish 
had been landed at Millburn by the son of Mr. 
McDonald, engine driver, was kept alive, and 
soon became a great pet. Upward of ten years 
ago the engine driver had it transferred to the 
tank of his engine, and it has since passed a 
somewhat curious existence in the tanks of three 
separate railway engines. The trout was so tame 
that it would feed from the engine driver’s 
hand, and when a pail was dropped into the 
tank to take it out would flop into it at once. 
Occasionally the driver took his pet home with 
him, and on the last occasion that' he did so an 
accident happened—a box of matches had fallen 
into the tank with the result that the trout was 
poisoned. The trout is lamented by all the rail¬ 
way men. It traveled during its stay in the 
engine tank thousands of miles, and once, when 
there was a snow block and the water ran down, 
*vas only saved by pouring water sparingly over 
it. The fish is a beautifully spotted specimen, 
and, having such a reputation, is being preserved 
by Messrs. McLeay & Sons, of Inverness. Its 
ten years’ residence in a railway tank has made 
it famous, and it is intended to transfer it to 
some museum. 
Braintree, Mass., Nov. 26 .—Editor Forei 
and Stream: There are very few men that d 
not like to get away from business and spen 
their vacation way off in some place where the 
can be forgotten seemingly and forget in tl 
same way all the frets and bother of gainir 
new dollars for old ones, and a few more po 
sibly, and spend the time doing just as th< 
think best. I am one of them, but I do n 
want it to cost me too much. I have got 
make a big heap to get square with myself, 
I try to go on an inexpensive trip, taking r 
wife with me, for she enjoys outings just 
much as I—there are few wives that do not 
and we have real good times, and sometirr 
we both have to work like beavers, but that 
part of the fun. Now, do not put a questi 
mark after fun, for the work we do is not t 
work of home life, but what Gomes to us 
the woods, or at the lake, or in fact anywh< 
when we are camping; provided, we are not t 
fortunate enough to find a camp with a cc 
all ready for us. 
When do we begin to plan for such an 0 
ing? Why, when we were in camp this y 
we made arrangements for our trip next y 
if we are both alive then. Ah, no, we do 
have to arrange so long beforehand, but we 
joy the doing it, so it is done not publicly, 
just by ourselves. Indeed, we have had sc 
fine times this summer and the times began 
June and we just closed the season of cai 
ing on the 25th of September. All the time 
camp? Bless you, no. We have a home to 
to occasionally and go there, too. Would 
like to know where we went and what we 
this summer? N Well, we took the boat at I 
ton one day and went to Eastport, Me., 1 
a little jerkwater train to Calais and got 
John Shannacy to truck our baggage ovei 
St. Stevens across the river, taking the t 
there at 1 p. m. and going to Bonny Rive 
Sullivan’s Hotel, where we had a fine lunch 
our wants attended to by an exceedingly pi 
young lady, and then we took a buckboar 
Red Rock Lake several miles away. Yes, I 
been there before and knew the place quite 
Our guide met us there and so did Mr. L 
the cook, than whom there is none bette 
the whole of New Brunswick. I met hit 
the upper lake a year before and would 
gone to said lake just to shake hands with 
he is such a fine man and good cook. W< 
all the fish we cared for at Red Rock; 
every one, and good ones, too. We stayed 
as long as we cared to and then started ; 
for Boston by way of St. John, which is a 
little place. 
We had a fine trip to Boston. The we 
was fair and warm and we were glad t 
home again, but the roving spirit had not 
enough to stay quiet, so loading up the aut 
tent and all that one needs to make lif 
not miserable, but happy—and independei 
any hotel, started once more for Harwich 
on the cape. 
We did not hurry at all. The' time wa 
own as much as anyone owns time, and v 
rived at Barnstable about 6 p. m., having 
four hours on the road. The Barnstabl 
looked rather inviting, so I pulled up : 
gate and we got supper,'lodging and bre 
