JAN. 27, 1906.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 

The Beaver in Maine. 
PERSISTENT reports continue to come in, from 
sportsmen and guides, of the killing of consider- 
able numbers of beavers in the game belt, ac- 
cording to the law passed at the last session of 
the Legislature, and by permission of the com- 
missioners of fish and game. After years of 
effort, and the expenditure of thousands of dol- 
lars to enforce the law protecting these valuable 
fur animals, it is an outrage to render all that 
effort void because some timberland owner im- 
agines they are taking undue advantage of his 
absence at his luxurious city home, to destroy 
a few of his precious trees. 
If the owners of timberlands will see that 
scientific principles are followed in the cutting 
of the natural increase of their forestry, instead 
of leaving the lumberman to follow the dictates 
of his own desires by practically destroying the 
timber of an entire tract, he will do more for the 
continuance of his forest wealth than by the de- 
struction of the busy little animals that have cost 
the State so much, and ought to have the pro- 
tection of the entire official machinery of the 
State Game Department, that they may not be 
entirely killed off before it is too late. 
When one considers the centuries in which the 
beaver lived, in numbers hundreds where now 
are but individuals, and they never seriously in- 
jured the forestry of the State, the claim brought 
against them now when they are really so few, 
is absurd, and looks like a trumped-up charge to 
give some one an excuse for securing a lot of 
beaver pelts. Let the beaver enjoy its inherent 
right to live, and if the selfish land owner can’t 
get his pound of flesh in any other way, if he’s 
so unfair as to demand it, let him, under the 
direction of competent officials, pay for the re- 
moval of the beavers to State lands, where they 
shall have free privileges of life and activity, and 
where they may enjoy freedom from persecution. 
—Maine Sportsman. 
Big Fish, Big Price. 
Some ten years ago, in a village not fifty miles 
from Brooklyn Bridge, there was considerable 
rivalry as to who brought in the finest strings 
_ of trout. Among the lot who were striving for 
supremacy was my friend Dan C. He could 
generally tell of bigger strings and bigger trout 
than the others. 
Dan went off trout fishing one day, and just 
outside of the village he espied a small Dutch 
boy, with a bean pole and a cord for a line, 
swishing a very large fish about in the creek. 
Dan saw that it was a trout of over three pounds 
weight. The boy told how he had got it stuck 
fast between two stepping stones in the creek 
and had struck it on the head with his pole, and 
then tied it to his line to have some fun with it. 
It did not take Dan many minutes to catch that | 
trout from the boy with a ten cent bait, and 
both went off happy. In a few hours Dan re- 
turned, went into the grocery as cool as his ex- 
citement would allow, and tried to make it ap- 
pear an-every-time-I-go-a-fishing occurrence to 
catch a trout. The palm was at once awarded 
to him, and the fish spread a gleam of truth to 
his sitting-on-a-barrel stories. 
After the boys had all seen it, he presented it 
to the most popular gentleman in the village. 
That night the boys were in full force in the 
back part of the grocery, and Dan was reciting 
to them how he hooked the fish, the rushes for 
liberty it made, how he worked it up and down 
stream, the narrow escapes he had of losing it 
around a big boulder, how it got under a bank 
and sulked, then of how he had to get into the 
creek up to his middle in water to keep clear 
of the brush, and finally how he led the prize 
to a little sandbank, got behind it, and threw it 
out on the bank. He had just finished his glow- 
ing description when a big Dutch woman and a 
little boy came into the back part of the store. 
The boy walked up to Dan, pointed his finger, 
and said, “Him.” The woman held out the 
ten cent bait, and addressed Dan: “Mishter 
C s, the pig vish jmy poy catch vas ash pig 
ash vorth two tollar,” and she demanded the fish 
back or two dollars, or she would make trouble 
for him for cheating her little boy. Dan forked 
out the two dollars. A. Mac. 

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