MArcH 3, 1906.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 

“THAT'S A THREE-POUNDER IF IT WEIGHS AN 
Trout taken on Chippewa River, North Shore of Lake Michigan. 
extinction by their numbers, being extremely 
prolific. The common size is about that of the 
herring, though they grow, when unmolested, 
to the weight of four or five pounds. They are 
very fat in summer, when they are pickled, and 
make a good substitute for mackerel. The roe 
of the mullet, when smoked, makes a delicious 
relish. 
S.—“Where are you going??” 
P.—‘T think I will try at the mouth of the 
creek for sheepshead till the tide begins to make 
and bring in the bass. The boys put some 
clams in the boat.” 
S.—‘Wouldn’t fiddlers be better bait?” 
P.—“Well, I reckon you can get all you want 
with clams.” 
We keep along the west shore, where a deep 
channel runs close to the banks; and at the 
mouth of the creek, where there is a deep hole 
and strong eddy. P. tosses the anchor ashore 
and begins to open the large round clams by a 
skillful blow on their edge with a heavy knife. 
“Now,” says he, “bait your hooks and fish near 
the bank.” Our rig is two Virginia hooks, 
with a 4-ounce sinker. We drop to the bot- 
tom in about ten feet of water. In half a minute 
each feels a tug. We each reel in sheepshead, 
which struggle hard and bear downward with 
short rushes. Mine is a four-pounder, which, 
with some difficulty, I persuaded to come to the 
surface, and P. lifts him into the boat with the 
landing net. S. seems to have a heavier one, 
which keeps near the bottom. After some 
minutes’ play it is brought to the surface, and 
proves to be a pair, one of which escapes in the 
final struggle, taking with him the hook; the one 
saved weighs about five pounds. 
So we kept on for an hour, during which time 
we got twenty-five sheepshead, average three 
pounds; six pig-fish, of one pound each; four 
blackfish and six whiting, the last two being 
small species here, perhaps half a pound each, 
but excellent pan fish. The pig-fish I: consider 
the best of the common coast fishes, and only 
inferior to the pompano. 
Then the fish stopped biting, and we left, 
keeping down the channel toward the inlet till 
We came to a long sandbank, which lies be- 
tween the Halifax and Hillsboro rivers. On the 
north side of the bank is the main channel, but 
on the east the water is- shoal. Here we 
anchored in three feet of water. The tide hav- 
ing -turned to flood, our boat swung seaward, 
a 

OUNCE.” 
Photo by F. F. Frisbie. 
and baiting our hooks for bass (Cuttyhunk pat- 
tern) we cast as far as possible toward the inlet, 
leaving the bait on the bottom. 
P.—‘I think I will try for a bass, too,’ and, 
whirling his bait round his head, he cast it sea- 
ward about forty yards. 
S.—“This is a pretty place to fish, bottom 
clean, with open water to play your fish.” 
P.—‘We ought to get some bass here if the 
sharks will let us alone. They are very plenty 
here sometimes.” 
We sat quietly with our lines out, in the warm 
sunshine, fanned by the gentle breeze. Our 
fellow fishermen, the pelicans, were at work 
near the inlet, diving for mullet. A couple of 
ospreys were doing likewise, but as usual were 
much annoyed by a pair of predatory eagles, - 
which from their watchtower on a lofty pine on 
the mainland were looking out for prizes, and 
seldom missed a robbery of the painstaking fish- 
hawk. As we were observing one of these 
chases, suddenly P. began to haul in his line, and 
at the end we saw a large red fish struggling at 
the surface. Before it was secured I felt a tug, 
and my line was whizzing off the reel, which 
had a check to it. After running about thirty 
yards seaward it turned for the shore. In the 
meantime P. had hauled in his fish hand over 
hand, which proved to be an eight-pound bass, 
which he slapped over the side without cere- 
mony, and then took the gaff and secured my 
bass, which was a five-pounder. Just as he. did 
this S. hooked one. 
C.—‘“‘There seems to be a school of them 
around the boat.” 
P.—“Yes, they generally run that way—get 
out your line and keep the school.” Which I 
did, and directly fastened a heavy one which 
got away after a short run, but I soon had an- 
other before the school left, which seemed to 
be caused by the appearance of a shark, which 
took P.’s bait, and after some play, bit off the 
line and escaped. 
P.—“I see more of the brutes coming, ‘and we 
had better be off, no more fun here.” 
We turned round the point of the bank, and 
after going a mile up the other river, entered 
the mouth of a wide, deep creek coming from 
the west, 
S.—‘What is there here?” 
P.—“This is a good creek for bass, sheeps- 
head and snappers, or would be if those Smyrna 
fellows would leave it alone. I see two of their 
349 
boats up the creek now. We'll try under this 
bank for a snapper.” 
We anchored close to the bank in the channel, 
and baiting with mullet, cast up the creek by 
P.’s direction, as far as possible. I soon felt 
something at my hook, which I could not catch, 
but which kept taking ‘off my bait. 
P.—“They. are small snappers, they are hard 
to hook, but. we'll hitch a big one directly. 
There’s one!” and he hauled in a _ red-sided 
brilliant fish, shaped something like a black 
bass, of about five pounds weight, which came 
in reluctantly, and snapped its teeth viciously 
when in the boat. 
P.—‘That’s a fine snapper; 
will make your reel hum!” 
S.—‘And I have got one—that is, if he don’t 
get under the bank. There, what shall I do 
now, he is under that quay with my line?” 
There was nothing to do but to break the line, 
the fish being too strong to be hauled out of his 
hole. 
Just then I- hooked a snapper of about two 
pounds, which I was able to keep away from 
the bank and kill in open water. Then I got 
one of four. pounds, and S. found himself tast 
to another, which he saved after a hard fight; 
this was a five-pounder. After this the snap- 
pers declined our offers, and after taking lunch 
we proceeded up the creek and fished at the 
mouth of a slough for bass. Presently I found 
my hook fast to the bottom, as I thought, but, 
after pulling on it, it moved slowly away. I 
tried to check the fish, but it was too strong and 
increased its speed. 
P.—‘‘Ah! Mr. C., you’ve got a stingray, and 
a big one.” Some fifty yards of line were taken 
out, when the fish stopped. I tried to recover 
my line, when the creature rose to the surface 
and thrashed about with his whip-like tail. 
After many runs back and forth it went to the 
bottom, and there it stuck. We got up the 
anchor and: put the boat over the fish; then P. 
stirred up the brute with an oar. He started 
at once and ran off toward the inlet, and taking 
out my whole line of 100 yards, it parted near 
the hook. “Anda good riddance,” said P.; “but 
that ray gave you plenty of sport.” 
“More like hard work than sport,’ said I. 
“Why, what’s the odds between bass and 
stingray, as long as you have the fun of playing 
them. Now, here’s a big shark coming after that 
tray; he thought the ray was in trouble and he 
could get a bite out ot it; very fond of a ray is 
a shark. Well, we might as well go, for that 
shark will scare all the bass.” 
We went up the creek a mile, and then turned 
north into another, which led into a labyrinth 
of sea islands and creeks, the islands low and 
covered with salt grass and mangroves. P. an- 
chored the boat in a deep hole, where he said 
if we got a bass.it would be a big one. We 
fished about half an hour without anything show- 
ing itself; then I felt a heavy surge-at my bait, 
and found myself fast to a big fish. It ran off thirty 
yards without a check, then turned and made 
for the boat, faster than I could reel in my line. 
When within a few yards of the boat the fish 
took another run, and showed a tail about a 
foot wide above the surface. After I had been 
playing him about twenty minutes S. hooked 
another big one, and there we fought those fish, 
I at the bow and S. at the stern, for twenty 
minutes more, when my bass turned over and 
gave up the battle. P. gaffed and brought him 
into the boat, the largest bass I had ever taken. 
S. secured his in about half an hour or so, and 
the pair made a great show when we got back 
to the landing. Mine weighed thirty pounds, 
and my companion’s twenty-nine, and we had 
taken in all nearly 200 pounds of fish. (x 
one of that size 
Canadian Camp. 
THE special item on the menu of the Canadian 
Camp banquet in New York city on Monday 
evening of this week was meat called catalo, 
being the flesh of the cross between buffalo and 
domestic cattle. The dish was provided by 
“Buffalo” Jones, and found appreciation with the 
300 diners. The speakers at the banquet were 
John S. Wise, Charles Hallock and others. 
