
490 
JAMISON BARBLESS 
The Hook with the Hump 
Humane—Sportsmanlike—Effective 

‘‘Smiling Bill’? 
Goes Salmon Fishing 

HELLO IKE!{ 
Where have we been? We’ve been fishin’ 
and look at what we brought back. This 
baby was 44 inches long, weighed 24 pounds, 
and I had totalk nice to him for an hour and 
seventeen minutes before I could coax him 
to come ashore and have his picture taken. 
He was awfully bashful. Was caught on a 
fly tied by Fred Peet on a No. 6 Jamison 
Barbless Hook. The Rod was a 514 oz. 914 
foot Heddon Fly Rod, the reel was a Shake- 
speare Automatic, and the fish was taken at 
junction of Caines and Mirimache Rivers, 
75 miles from Fredericton, N. B., Canada, 
on the 19th of May, and landed nearly an 
hour after dark. d 
There were three in our party, and we all 
took a lot of good fish. Those Salmon are 
some jumpers but they couldn’t get away 
from the Barbless. 
The good looking man on the left, trying 
to make out he caught the fishis Ed. Taylor. 
The funny looking guy is myself. Doc. 
Marcusson is behind the hill, but he was 
there when it come to catching Salmon. 
Yours, 
BILL JAMISON. 
P. S.—If you want to try the Caines River 
write to Harry Allen, Penniac, N. B., Can. 
TROUT and BASS FLIES 
Pat. 1924 
Hooks for Any Kind of Fishing 
CHARTER oe ae Barbless Flies, and 
ooks, annon Twin Spin- 
Se ca ners, Coaxer Baits, Silk Cast- 
WALTON i Lines, etc. Testimonials 
THE 
W. J. JAMISON CO. 
ZB Dept. S 
LEAGUE 739 S. California Ave. 
AMERICA CHICAGO, ILL. 



In writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. 

A flight of ducks. 


Shooting Wild Fowl in Dakota 
Mallards, Teal and Canvasbacks Abound 
on the Mid-Western Marshes 
By A. W. BAKER 
my brother Dick and I, with 
two Irish water spaniels, ar- 
rived at the hustling little town of 
Webster, South Dakota, where we met 
our genial friend “Doc” Jones, and 
soon the preparations for hunting were 
completed. 
@e bright, crisp day in October 
The following morning before the 
red Dakota dawn had made light the 
eastern horizon, we were in _ the 
marshes at Lake Wambay anxiously 
waiting for daylight when we knew 
the flight would begin. However, we 
had not long to wait, for with the 
dawn came the sun and simultane- 
ously, the flight. Such a flight as it 
was! It seemed as though the wild 
fowl of the whole universe had gath- 
ered in this region. First came a flock 
of pintails with their long necks 
stretched and in their rapid, noiseless 
flight were within a few yards of us 
before we saw them. We could see the 
white lines on their brown heads, and 
their breasts shone like silver in the 
morning sun. 
Crack, crack went the Smith and 
Ithaca guns alternately and the flock 
passed on leaving five of their num- 
ber behind. A few yards farther on 
the doctor’s broad shoulders arose 
from among the reeds and as his big 
ten-gauge spoke out twice in quick suc- 
cession, two more ducks fell dead in 
the marsh. 
Then all around us arose from the 
marsh, where they had been feeding at 
night, blue-wings in twos and fours 
and in dozens, and as we stood there 
shooting right and left, large flocks of 
widgeons came in from Lake Wambay, 
for as the blue-wings feed at night the 
widgeons feed in the day on the same 
grounds using the tender roots and 
grasses as a substitute for the rice on 
which they feed in the far south. 
Then too there were the gadwells 
flying in smaller flocks that had been 
raised in the immediate marsh. These 
did not fly so swiftly but any of them 
afforded good shooting, for as we stood 
concealed in the tall reeds there was 
a continuous dizzy whirl above our 
heads and on all sides, and as the 
chilled pellets from the salmon-colored 
shells dropped bird after bird, the oth- 
ers became dazed and the flight be- 
came thicker. 
Ree I wished my gun was an ejec- 
tor, but with my next breath I 
said: “Shame! a single-barrel gun 
would do damage enough here!” 
Presently we quit shooting, picked 
up our birds and found we had the 
limit of the law for one day and waded 
out onto high ground. We spent the 
afternoon hunting grouse among sage- 
brush and stubble and had some fairly 
good shooting, returning to the little 
town of Wambay toward evening 
It will identify you. 
