848 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 3, 1911. 
manhood it is ! who command his attent.on. I 
am then the companion that he takes with him 
when he goes after that hedgehog which he has 
been watching for days. As soon as the nuts 
ripen and the squirrels and rabbits are plentiful, 
you are quite forgotten, and it is 1 who spend 
hours with him on the hillside. He is just as 
proud of the first rabbit which I piace in his 
hands as he was when you gave him that big 
pickerel. He begins now to look down on you 
with indifference in the same manner that he 
would on a younger brother. ’ 
Rod: "Not at all. 1 hold the sportsman’s af¬ 
fection and always will; an affection active 
through the summer and dormant during the 
winter. With each recurring spring he grasps 
me with the same avidity, and off we go to¬ 
gether with gaiety in our hearts. Nor do these 
trips cease until time calls a halt and nature de¬ 
crees there shall be no more activity, whereas 
he had long ago placed you on the shelf, with 
the other relics of his robust past. All men 
cannot be great, but all men may be fisher¬ 
men.” 
Gun: "Yes, bodily vigor is the hunter's sine 
qua non, a badge which he carries with pride, 
and he wi 1 let no occasion escape to prove that 
it is worthily carried. The heartiness with which 
I am carried from morn till night is but the ex¬ 
uberance of that condition. Nothing in the way 
of exertion is too difficult for him to attempt, 
for he feels that he shall be successful. My 
master and I sally forth into the nipping air at 
the first streak of light, thankful for that sub¬ 
stratum of buckwheat cakes and their all per¬ 
vading warmth. The c.imb up that first hill 
makes the breath come fast, I will admit, tut 
the blood is singing through our veins and we 
are prepared for anything. The exhilaration of 
the bright October air intoxicates us with the 
joy of existence; we know no care, we can see 
no sorrow; we just exist in thankfulness. We 
trudge along in a world of glorious color, the 
beauty of the autumn tints heightened by the 
several greens of the pines and hemlocks. Across 
the valley the blue of the distant hills, with their 
sunshine and shadow, form a border of warmth 
to a picture which fills us with rapture. Mer¬ 
rily on we go, but as we near a clump of hem¬ 
lock we move with care, for this is one of the 
partridge's favorite hiding places, as he takes 
fiendish delight in placing thick foliage between 
himself and trouble when flight is necessary. 
One step more and we are surrounded by a suc¬ 
cession of whirring darts, but I stop the flight 
of two, as I always do good work when I am 
held straight. And if the dogs—” 
Rod: "Dogs! I don't need a valet to tell me 
where my game is to be found!” 
Gun: “Nonsense! The dog is the hunter’s 
lode star. Nothing can be more engaging than 
to watch a well-trained dog making game, to 
say nothing of the feeling of good fellowship 
which his intelligence always produces. Ever 
ready and responsive, and always upon the a’ert, 
he is as eager for results as is the hunter him¬ 
self. His dash and vim keep us ever on the 
verge of expectancy, with its consequent con¬ 
tinual effort, and we do our utmost to follow 
where he deems it wise to lead, for we know 
that our confidence in him will result in suc¬ 
cess. And so indeed it does, for many are the 
birds to which he had led irs, and which but for 
him we would never have seen; and it is with 
grateful hearts that we make sure that he has 
a warm place by the fire after his day of toil 
and hardship. So don’t malign- good old Dash 
or I'll be sorry 1 didn't smash your tip. But 
I've lost enough time; we must get after the 
birds again. Their flight was straight into the 
valley, so down the hill we hurry with an occas¬ 
ional slide that ends in a plunge, for loose leaves 
are apt to be slippery and they certainly cover 
a multitude of surprises. Once on level ground 
we make for the brook, for there may be a 
woodcock or two along its swampy shores. The 
brook with its water, sparkling and cold, is an 
irresistible invitation which we accept at once; 
a seat on a log and out comes the pipe.” 
Rod: "And if you smoke the pipe of truth 
you’ll acknowledge that your master strolls along 
the brook looking intently into the water to dis¬ 
cover if it contains trout and whether the young 
fry are thriving. Even at the height of your 
ardor you admit my possibilities.” 
Gun: “How do you account for the fact that 
last spring you were hurriedly set against a 
tree while your master w'ent dashing into the 
woods after a hen partridge you had just flushed? 
Tie wished to ferret out how many young birds 
there w'ere in the pack; for the moment you 
were entirely forgotten and his thoughts were 
all of autumn joys. You must bear in mind, 
my fragile friend, that a momentary diversion 
does not mean a change of heart—” 
Rod: “It is sometimes the entering wedge.” 
Gun: “For the tyro, perhaps, but not where 
devotion is concentrated and of long duration; 
the joys which time has proven exist for us 
will keep 11 s faithful to the end—this much from 
your pipe of truth. We had gone hardly fifty 
feet from the log when up jumps a spluttering 
woodcock and is off before we can pull ourselves 
together, his sudden appearance from underneath 
our very feet having filled my master with the 
uncertainty of surprise. But never fear, Dash 
will find him before we have gone far, and so 
indeed he does, and this time he is our victim. 
But as for those partridges we put up, con¬ 
founded aeroplanes that they are, they have 
vanished without leaving their telephone num¬ 
ber. Hour after hour goes swiftly by and we 
are stiil in eager pursuit, now in the swale, now 
on the hillside, an occasional trophy of my mas¬ 
ter’s skill making us forget the many misses. 
Not till dusk casts its shadows do we forego 
the pleasures of a pastime in which we take 
the greatest delight, and the stars, which by 
now are shining, are not brighter than are our 
hopes of many more such days to come. 
“Arrived at home, we expand with pride as 
one by one the birds are shown to our brother 
sportsmen gathered around the open fire, whose 
brightness and warmth create such a genial at¬ 
mosphere that we are filled with glee as we 
shout with Christopher North: ‘Blessings on 
the head of every sportsman on flood or field 
or fell.’ ” 
Rod: “Bravo! That has the true after din¬ 
ner ring when all the table agree with you that 
it’s time to stop. Now listen to me. Great is 
the difference between us in regard to the means 
which we use to accomplish our ends; you with 
your handful of shells, artificial, dangerous and 
unfeeling, and I with my bunch of dainty flies, 
exact imitations of the winged life hovering 
over my realm. I go to nature for my lures; 
you follow' along the lines that man has laid 
out the better to enforce his dominance. You 
are the exponent of noise and vigorous action, 
of abrupt and forceful method; you know noth¬ 
ing of the charm of quiet and continued effort. 
Perhaps this is due in part to the dissimilarity 
in our seasons, to the contrast between the sharp, 
cold winds of the autumn and early winter, and 
the soothing, balmy days of the spring and sum¬ 
mer. Oh! the delightful spring time. This is 
when I step into prominence. Now it is that 
my master and I are boon companions as we 
rush forth to find 
“ ‘Only an idle little stream, 
Whose amber waters softly gleam, 
Where I may wade through woodland shade, 
And cast the fly, and loaf, and dream.’ 
“You see, I can quote as well as you, and 
from one who does not need to wear a 'sport¬ 
ing jacket’ to show the world that he is sincere 
in his love of nature and a king among sports¬ 
men. How any one after reading Henry Van 
Dyke can still withstand the allurements of fish¬ 
ing is a mystery to me. I am surely fortunate 
in this that there are so many who are masters 
in the world of letters who are glad to sing my 
praise. This has been true for generations in 
Great Britain, and will be true for years to come 
in Greater America. Throughout this entire 
country year by year the interest in fishing is in¬ 
creasing rapid y. Immense sums of money are 
now being devoted to the propagation and care 
of fish, which would have been impossible only 
a few years back. We were squanderers of the 
bountiful gifts of nature, but we have learned 
our lesson, and the future will show that the 
general public is interested in the care and pro¬ 
tection of fish to the end that all may profit 
thereby. Your followers are ’way behind us in 
this respect, but you also are at last beginning 
to look round and take notice. And the great 
improvements of to-day in the methods and tools 
of my followers are the results of study and in¬ 
telligence ; we are forging ahead both as regards 
tackle and lures. 
“Contrast the dullness of the old time custom 
of sitting all day in an anchored boat, the hot 
sun beating down on your head, patiently wait¬ 
ing for a stray weakfish to come along and at¬ 
tach himself to your hook, with the lively in¬ 
terest of the up-to-date surf-caster, who knows 
how to cast, where to cast and how to entice 
the fish that he is after. Contrast the fisherman 
that splashes four flies—I have seen it done— 
on the waters of a trout stream, with the scien¬ 
tific angler of to-day who casts the single irre¬ 
sistible dry fly. My heart-felt thanks to Eng¬ 
land for that same dry fly. I bend deep and low 
in acknowledgment of its subtlety. 
“I take great pride in the casting of the dry 
fly because I am such an important factor in 
the operation: it is due to my impressionable 
action under the skil’ed guidance of my master’s 
hand and wrist that the fly is properly dropped 
upon the water. And while the line, leader and 
fly may have come from England, it is an ac¬ 
knowledged fact that I am second to none. It 
was early last spring when my master was re¬ 
varnishing me that I overheard him make that 
statement.” 
Gun : “I am glad to hear you say your mas¬ 
ter keeps you in good condition. My master 
loaned me to a friend last autumn and that 
parlor sportsman let me get so dirty and rusty 
