620 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[April 22, 1911. 
dry, then spread out the precious tobacco in 
the hope of getting several pipefuls later in the 
day, and shed various articles of raiment. Irees 
and bushes were decorated after the manner of 
a haberdasher’s window, and choosing the sun¬ 
niest spot, I sat in scant raiment dependent on 
the sun for food, clothing and a smoke. 
There is an indefinable, mystic something in 
the air of early springtime which appeals to the 
best that is in us. An indistinct purplish haze 
hovered lazily over the landscape; the scent of 
burning brush came from some new made clear¬ 
ing; the inspiring warble of the song sparrow 
from the red budded maple; the cries of the 
little ‘'peeper” frogs from the marshland; the 
buzz of the first honey bee about the early 
blossoms of the skunk cabbage, and the distant 
bawling of the plowman to his team. The 
grateful warmth of the strengthening sun on 
my back, and, looking up into the azure blue 
sky above, I thanked God that I was alive 
and fishing. 
From these reveries I was aroused by the 
bold pilferings of a red squirrel that had dis¬ 
covered the lunch and seemed intent on ap¬ 
propriating the major part of it. Driven to the 
fork of a nearby tree, he sat calling me mean, 
stingy and miserly. The edibles had dried out 
remarkably well, and, as it was now sometime 
past noon, the repast looked really inviting and 
appetizing after all. Donning the more im¬ 
portant pieces of apparel, even though they were 
still damp, I composed myself before an impro¬ 
vised table and did full justice to the plain fare 
of an honest fisherman, and with the frugal 
woodland meal imbibed the joy of the brook, 
the balm of the pines and the peace of the 
forest; so that when the last mouthful had been 
followed by a long draft of purest water, I rose 
refreshed, invigorated and satisfied mentally and 
physically. By the •unstinted use of matches, 
which luckily were placed in my hat, I managed 
to partly ignite a pipeful of damp tobacco, and 
with arms behind my head lay back contentedly, 
gazing from beneath half closed lids at the few 
drifting white clouds above. The constant 
babble of the brook, the soft call of a dove, the 
odor of bursting buds and blooming flowers 
soothed and subdued me till I slept. 
I awoke with a start after landing a three- 
pound trout—in a dream. My watch, still going 
despite its recent bath, thanks to its cheapness, 
showed that I had dozed for a full half hour. 
Taking the dream as a good omen, and donning 
the balance of my effects, I turned again to the 
stream. With a fairly good catch I could afford 
to waste some time in experimenting, but was 
unable to provoke anything, even remotely re¬ 
sembling a rise and again substituted a worm 
for the fly, and with eager expectancy ap¬ 
proached the seething, sud-like pool at the foot 
of the falls, where I finally pulled a sixteen-inch 
beauty from that same pool last season. With 
thumping heart and bated breath I dropped the 
bait through the crust of foam and waited 
anxiously, feet braced, thumb on reel, hopeful 
that some worthy successor had appropriated 
the splendid feeding ground of the previous 
victim. 
There was a wild commotion in the snow-like 
spume, a violent tug on the line, and striking, 
I felt the weight of a good one. Mindful of the 
former experience at this spot, I played the 
fish carefully. Forsaking the pool he darted 
into the curling white-capped rapids, and with 
the full force of the current behind him, took 
the line down through that lane of swirling 
water at railroad speed, to be checked at the 
very edge of a log jam. and gradually wound 
in while he fought desperately every inch of the 
way. The roar of the cascade, the drift of the 
spray and the surge of the rapids, combined in 
a proper setting for this battle of the falls. 
Once again the trout darted off and fought 
furiously. Once I had him near at hand, and 
made a vicious scoop with the net, but he was 
too quick, and I missed him by the merest 
margin as he went back into the pool. I 
roused him, and again by only the hardest kind 
of work was I able to keep him from snagging, 
and finally the net was slipped under him and 
he was lifted from the water exhausted but not 
defeated. The measuring stick registered 1^/2 
inches, and carefully wrapped in wet moss, he 
was accorded the place of honor in the basket. 
There are larger trout in the streams and 
lakes of far Northern and Western forests. The 
little freckled, bare-legged millpond devotee 
knows that in the bigger lakes and rivers he 
may catch fish much larger and more gamy 
than his adored “punkinseed.” The same spirit 
dominated us both; it is the home sense, the 
spirit of ownership, of familiarity with our sur¬ 
roundings. We know our brook or millpond, 
as the case may be, in all its moods; we antici¬ 
pate the view around each turn; we understand 
its language and learn to love it. It is a bit of 
our landscape, a near neighbor, a part of our 
life. We are content with the size and quality 
of its trout, for to us they are incomparable. 
I can remember when with alder pole and bent 
pin I wandered barefoot along its shores. The 
true angler is a dreamer, and where could I 
conjure up such pleasant memories of the past, 
such hopeful dreams of the future, as along the 
shores of the familiar little well-beloved home 
brook. It is their associations that endear these 
homely streams to our hearts, the chance for 
comparisons that draws and holds us to them 
despite the insistent call of distant unfished 
waters. 
Bringing my soliloquy to a close, and knocking 
the ashes and half burned tobacco from my pipe, 
I again started slowly down stream, satisfied 
with the number of fish taken and determined 
to retain only the larger ones taken before quit- 
ing time. The slanting shadows were already 
falling across the water, showing the lapse of 
time. At one spot I sat for some time on a 
mossy log, lost in contemplation of the awk¬ 
ward antics of a woodchuck endeavoring to 
cross the brook on some stones further down 
the stream. Occasionally I took a trout from 
some darkened pool or lost one in a tangle of 
drift, but nothing disturbed me, for I had suc¬ 
cessfully ushered in the season, broken my 
record for the same date last year, and landed 
the second biggest trout ever caught in the 
brook. 
The chill of evening crept along the water 
and reluctantly I turned to the shore, unjointed 
the rod and turned through the woods to the 
familiar trail—leading home. 
Elmer Russell Gregor. 
All the fish laws of the United States and 
Canada, revised to date and now in force, are 
given in the Game Laivs in Brief. See adv. 
New Fishing Regulations. 
San Francisco. Cal., April 8 .—Editor Forest 
and Stream: The trout bill has now become a 
law and several important changes have been 
made, some of which are not apt to prove popu¬ 
lar in certain sections. This is especially true 
in regard to the weight of the legal catch. This 
has been placed at 10 pounds and one fish, a 
reduction being made from the former legal 
weight of 25 pounds. The idea of the extra fish 
is to permit the angler to keep an extra large 
trout he may land in addition to the limit of 10 
pounds of smaller sized fish. The new pro¬ 
vision applies to all game districts and to all 
trout except steelheads. In such sections as 
Kern Lakes and Big Meadows, where large fish 
are to be found in numbers, this ruling will not 
meet with much favor. In all of the districts, 
with the exception of No. 3, trout fishing will 
begin on April 1 and will last until Nov. 1. In 
district 3 the opening date will be May 1, as 
it has been for years. The season formerly 
closed on Nov. 15. 
Steelhead fishing is now open in tide water 
all year, and the open season above tide water 
will commence on April 1, as in past years, but 
will close two weeks earlier, Nov. 1. The limit 
on this fish remains at 25 pounds or 50 fish. 
Net fishermen are to operate only between Oct. 
23 and Feb. 1, and no steelheads weighing less 
than a pound may be sold. 
Black bass may be taken only with hook and 
line between May 1 and March 1 of the follow¬ 
ing year. The limit is fifty fish a day. The sea¬ 
son formerly extended from June 1 to Jan. 1. 
The new closed season on striped bass for 
net fishermen is Sept. 17 to Oct. 23, instead of 
during May and June. The shipment of these 
fish outside the State is prohibited at all times. 
Net fishermen are prohibited from taking this 
fish in Cache Slough, the idea being to make a 
secure breeding ground out of this district. 
The taking of shrimps in bag nets has also 
been prohibited and this not only means that 
the rapid depletion of the shrimp supply will be 
brought to a close, but that the killing of im¬ 
mense numbers of under-sized bass and othei 
fish will come to an end. Golden Gate.- 
San Francisco, Cal., April 7 .— Editor Foresi 
and Stream: The trout fishing season in the 
coast territory opened on the first of April 
and during the first week there was a record 
breaking attendance of anglers at all of th< 
streams easily reached from this city. This ap 
plies to steelhead trout, which is the fish mos 
common in the streams emptying into th 
ocean. Steelhead fishing is usually good i: 
April, and there has been no exception to th 
rule this year, reports coming from almost a 
districts of exceptionally fine sport. Stream 
are still rather high, but the water is quite cleai 
and this is not interfering with the sport. Las 
season the coast streams were liberally stocke 
and the results since the opening of the seaso 
have been very satisfactory to those having th: 
work in charge. 
Reports that have come down from tl 
Russian River indicate that it has been a Ion 
time since so many fine steelhead trout were t 
be found in that stream and anglers are con 
mencing to visit that favorite fishing groun 
earlier in the season than usual. One local ei 
