FOREST AND STREAM. 
5 2 9 
Aprh. .4. 1908.] 
he ropes on shore. The two latter are called 
fandsnien. The shore outfit consists of a wind- 
ass, a bunk house with kitchen attached, a fish 
10u.se and a packing house, and if the establish- 
nent is a large one, an office for the owner of 
he plantation. As the establishment diminishes 
11 importance, the shore equipment undergoes a 
hrinkage until among the poorest of the fishing 
>eople the entire plant, including quarters for 
wo or three dogs, is comprised in a single 
abin. 
From beginning to end the work of the crew 
s lacking in no element of picturesqueness. First 
•omes the boating of the seine. This operation 
onsumes 45 minutes, or about one-half the total 
ime taken up by the haul. The great seine lies 
n the water, the water staff held up by four. 
>rawnv blacks. Two more in the stern of the 
>oat receive the net and fold it carefully, ready 
o be laid out, while four more, waist deep in 
he water, slowly shove the boat along to re¬ 
reive the net. 
It is the beginning of the day’s work. The sun 
s sending a faint ray of gold up the river. The 
ast wisps of fog are slowly rising from the 
water. The crew, fresh from “cohn bread en 
gravy,” and not yet tired by toil, are lustily sing- 
ng the chorus of a “protracted meetin’ ” hymn. 
As the shore end staff comes aboard, at a word 
from the captain, the crew spring to their places. 
The shore line is seized by the two landsmen and 
he boat pushed off. The seine is always pulled 
with the tide. 
The spring flood tide is making up the river. 
The two landsmen handling the shore line fol¬ 
low the boat as it makes its way in a broad half 
:ircle, edging up stream with the tide. The cap¬ 
tain, with watchful eye on the net as it is laid 
jut and carefully gauging the strength of the 
tide so that he may make his landing directly 
opposite his windlass on the fishing shore, hur¬ 
ries or moderates the stroke of his crew. The 
oarsmen’s melody rings loud and clear over the 
deserted river, while a great blue heron wheel¬ 
ing aloft half contemptuously watches these 
:lumsy fishermen. 
As the half circle is completed the word is 
given, the melody is dropped, and the ten men 
bend to their oars, sending the craft into the 
shallows. The water end stake goes overboard, 
and the long rope is hurried ashore by half the 
crew while the remainder beach the boat. 
The line is hauled in hand-over-hand until the 
first knot is reached, when it is made fast to the 
windlass. The crew man the brakes, and haul¬ 
ing with the tide, the two ends of the seine begin 
to come together until the bag is completed, and 
the splashing silvery gleams within its circum¬ 
ference show that the shad are safe. Dividing, 
the crew wade breast deep into the water and 
rapidly work the heavy net ashore, planning al¬ 
ways to make the tide accomplish the heaviest 
)art of the work. 
As the net comes in the fish, driven into a 
smaller and smaller compass, at length form a 
compact mass at the end of the seine. Here they 
ire captured by hand, and with loud shouts and 
ixclamations as a particularly large or handsome 
prize is captured, are thrown high up on the 
shore. 
All day long the operation is repeated except 
it the intervals of slack tide. As the sun mounts 
figher and higher the shouts and song cease but 
he work goes doggedly on. At night the crew 
gathers around the cook house stove for its even¬ 
ing meal of fish and bacon, and after the usual 
ration of whiskey has been served, the songs 
break out once more. 
Six hauls constitute a good day’s work, and 
the employment, although ardous, seems to be 
regarded as play -by the darkies. The average 
pay of the crew if employed by a firm or the 
owner of the fishing shore is $20 per month with 
rations and a stipulated quantity of liquor as 
well as sleeping quarters in the bunk house. 
More often in these days, however, the crew is 
made up of the members of one or two families, 
and the return which each receives depends on 
the success of the fishing. / Anything more than 
200 shad is regarded as a fair catch for a haul. 
The catch of shad is not so large as in the old 
days, but the advance in price has probably com¬ 
pensated the fishermen for the deficiency. The 
shad run is the first of the season, but is fol¬ 
lowed by the herring and the alewives, while 
throughout the fishing, perch, rock and sturgeon 
are taken from the nets. Years ago the sturgeon 
fishery was equally profitable, but the wholesale 
slaughter of the females for their roe, brought 
about by the demand for caviar, has almost ex¬ 
terminated this fish in the James. 
The drift net fishing is far less picturesque and 
not so profitable, but.it is practiced by hundreds 
of boat crews. The equipment is far less expen¬ 
sive. the cost of the fishing shore is eliminated, 
and the indolent character of the work appeals 
to the average darkey. Thus while haul seine 
crews are comparatively few, the drift seine 
fishers may be seen lazily watching their lines 
of bobbing floats on every reach of the river at 
the proper tide. 
The drift net is twenty to thirty yards in 
length, made of linen twine, and is hung on a 
light cotton line and supported by corks four 
inches square, placed at six-foot intervals. No 
leads are used, and it is for this reason that this 
kind of fishing can only be carried on at the 
slack of each tide, limiting the hauls to four each 
day. The crew consists of a negro boy who pad¬ 
dles a crazy flat-bottomed skiff, which usually 
might well pass for a sieve, while the captain, 
also a negro, lays out the net. The net laid, the 
skiff lays off while the floats are anxiously 
scanned. Each bobbing float indicates that a fish 
is gilled. The net is drawn up at this point, and 
the captive removed. The returns from this fish¬ 
ing are comparatively small, although for some 
unknown reason the fish caught are usually 
larger than those taken in the haul seine. The 
average pay received by a man engaged in this 
fishing is about $10 per month with board. 
Berkeley, or Harrison's Landing, notable not 
only as the ancestral seat of the Harrisons, but 
as Gen. McClellan’s headquarters during the 
war, is said to have the best fishing shore on the 
James. Certain it is that the records of the es¬ 
tate show that the fishing has been carried on 
here with profit to the estate for 250 years, and 
by methods which differ in no particular from 
those of to-day. 
Here there is a sandy sloping shore with flats 
extending 200 yards into the river of an average 
depth of a little less than four feet, and ter¬ 
minating in Kimages channel, which is the fa¬ 
vorite passage of the shad on their way to the 
shallows for spawning. To this day the Berke¬ 
ley fishing is the most profitable on the river. 
Some great catches in the past are recorded, the 
record for shad being 980 at a haul, and for her- 
ring ,35,000. Both of these records were estab¬ 
lished the same year. Twenty years ago the shad 
brought five and six cents, but now they sell for 
from 50 to 75 cents for roes. 
The quaint customs of an earlier day survive 
in this industry as nowhere else. The darkies, 
father and son, are wedded to the old customs, 
and innovations make their way but slowly. The 
owners of the land on which the fishing camps 
are located, even though there is a money pay¬ 
ment as well, to this day receive their return of 
rent shad from each boat precisely as did the 
landed proprietors of colonial days. The profits 
of the fishing are shared on identically the same 
basis as 100 years ago, and the men who haul 
the shad to the nearest market receive the same 
wage as did their grandfathers, provided they 
were free men in the days “way back yondah 
befo’ de wah.’’ 
Some of the shad are shipped to Richmond or 
Norfolk by steamer, but the greater part of the 
catch, more especially in Charles City county, is 
packed in hampers and sent over the road to 
Richmond. The hauling is done at night, and the 
quaint two-wheeled trading cart with its white 
cotton cover is used. Its driver is curled up in 
the front of the cart at a perilous angle, while 
the patient mule plods his steady way for twenty 
miles over ruts and through quagmires. It is a 
weird night procession, this of white-topped 
silent carts, and the scene about the old market 
in Richmond where they congregate is no less 
fascinating than picturesque. Times change, con¬ 
ditions alter, but the fisherman remains true to 
the traditions of the past. 
The Passing of Pussy Tom 
By EDMUND F. L. JENNER 
(Concluded from [>age 490.) 
P USSY TOM fled for the nearest timber al¬ 
most as quickly as the dog retreated to his 
master. For hours he crouched on a lofty 
branch, his fur erect, his stumpy tail twitching, 
his eyes glaring. That night he crossed the 
river again, and led by some inexplicable instinct, 
headed for the south woods and the den he had 
inhabited when he was a kitten. It was the full 
of the October moon, the hoar frost had par¬ 
tially disguised the scent of the numerous tracks 
made by the lumbermen and sportsmen. Still, 
every now and then Pussy Tom detected the 
loathsome taint, faint but unmistakable, and 
shuddered as he did so. 1 he old den was at 
the base of a pile of granite boulders. There 
were divers porcupines there, but the cat’s 
instinct taught him not to molest them. For a 
week or so he had hard work to satisfy the 
