52 


FOREST AND STREAM 

From Chambers’ Tournal. 
REMEMBERED. 
——$—$————— 
NLY a great green meadow, with an old oak tree in the hedge, 
G Where the brambles were the first to'ripen, the sparrow was first to 
fledge; 
Only a broad brown river that swept between willow ranks, 
Where the tansey tangled the bindweed fair that graced the sandy banks. 
Just the meadow, and the river, and a lane that joined the two, 
And a marsh where marigold glistened, by forget-me-not’s virgin blue. 
With the parple for a background, and a lark that always sang, 
Till the bright keen air around it with the melody trilled and rang. 
It is thirty weary years ago. Through many a lovely scene, 
Through many a fair and storied haunt my tired steps have been. 
Yet whenever from life and its lessons I turn, a suppliant guest, 
To the land where memory shrines for us beauty and joy and rest, 
I know the scent of the tansey, crushed ‘neath an eager tread, 
[ know the note of the skylark as it soared from its lowly bed, 
[ see the oak tree’s mighty boughs, I hear the willows shiver, 
I see the blue forget-me-nots that grew by the northern river. 
Fancies have failed and hopes have fled, and the prize but mocks the 
strife, 
Death and Sorrow with busy hands have altered the course of life, 
But as fair and fresh as when down its path the fearless footstep sprung, 
Is the meadow beside the broad brown stream I loved when all was 
young. 


LETTER FROM MOCKHORN ISLAND. 
—_—__—4————— 
NorrHampron, VA., August 26, 1872. 
Eprror Forest AND STREAM :— 
My last to you was from Hog Island, when I gave you 
some idea of the bay snipe and curlew shooting there. I 
have found the birds this season quite as plenty, and in as 
good condition, as in any previous year. The snipe were 
confined, as usual, to willets, yellow-legs, marlin, godwits, 
and sand pipers. The plover, I think, are getting scarce on 
the island, although, as you may see, I have killed one, and 
quite arare specimen. Jake backs up my opinion as to 
their being scarce, and is loud in his denunciation of the 
‘white trash” on the main land, who make it a practice to 
destroy plover eggs. I re@pllect myself to have seen, some 
four years ago, onthe Buena Vista plantation, in North- 
hampton, just opposite to Hog Island, bushels on bushels 
of plover and bay snipe eggs on the sands until the ground 
was almost white with them. Whites and negroes make 
regular egging parties, and sell the eggs in Norfolk for 
twenty-five cents a dozen, breaking in sheer wantonness 
what they cannot carry. What measures should be used 
to prevent this destruction of eggs I can scarcely suggest. 
Tf not discontinued it must ultimately destroy all wild- fowl 
‘breeding in this section, 
Jake having suggested my going to Mockhorn, an island 
about fourteen miles from Hog Island, assuring me that I 
should find jack curlew there, we left Hog Island early on 
Monday in Jake’s boat, carrying our stools and provisions 
with us. It took us about four hours, owing to a contrary 
wind, before we made Mockhorn. This island is the long- 
est and largest of the group, and is quite picturesque in 
appearance, haying a fine growth of red cedar, which is 
invaluable to the sportsman for the making of ‘‘blinds.” 
In fact, the island possesses so many charms that some 
years ago a number of Philadelphia and Baltimore gentle- 
men made overtures for its purchase with the idea of con- 
verting it into a southern Long Branch. The beach isa 
magnificent one of hard sand, and on it roll the breakers of 
the broad Atlantic ; on the bay side stretches the trees. I 
suppose the reason why these islands abound with sea fowl 
is hecause there is precisely found on them the two condi- 
tions necessary for the existence of the birds. Sea birds 
are no more fond of rough weather than are human beings. 
Tf onthe ocean side they can find the peculiar food best 
adapted to their wants, on the bay side, in stiller water, 
they have the shelter so necessary for their repose. 
Jake was exceedingly mysterious as to the exact point 
where he was to land me, and to my many inquiries was 
speechless, only replying by a placid grin. I am a fast 
friend of Jake’s, however, and my confidence in him is un- 
limited. He landed us at the northeast point on the Atlan- 
tic side. A long point of sand jutting out into the ocean, 
terminating in a high rock thirty feet in height, whitened 
with the dung of the sea-fowl. Jake quickly constructed a 
shelter of red cedar brush, as we were to pass the night 
there. The tide not being unfavorable we waited patiently 
until almost sundown, when we put out our stools. We 
had hardly got them planted when there appeared in the 
horizon the largest flock of sand pipers I ever saw. As 
they twirled in the sun, the light glancing on their wings, 
they looked as they whirled in spirals like a huge water 
spout. They made dircetly for our decoys. In addition to 
my Snyder Allen Thad my Pat Mullen, nine bore, thirty- 
six inch barrel. Jake and I were on our backs, the stools 
thirty yards from us, with the rock in the background, the 
great ocean being the limit to our picture. Jake piped and 
twittered most melodiously as down swept the birds with a 
noise that was almost dinning. They went to the stools 
beautifully, when I gave them the contents of both my 
guns, Jake’s gun missing fire from the caps having been 
wet. We picked up seventy-six birds. Iam almost ashamed 
to acknowledge having killed so many, but as they are a 
migratory bird I trust it may not be considered in the light 
of an indiscriminate slaughter. Having provided Jake 
with some of my Eley caps, we waited for another flock. 
The tide now was almost full, and the wind going down 
with the setting sun, it was near twilight before any flying 
thing made its appearance, Then came a rather strange 
| bills from the southward. 

flock composed of curlew, jack curlews, willets, and sickle- 
As they passed the stools I was 
about firing, when a word from Jake stopped my finger on 
| the trigger. ‘They will come back, sir,” he said, and so 
they did. They flew over us, and Jake and I rose on our 
knees and_let them have it. One jack curlew fell completely 
in the blind, and the rest of the dead among the stools. We 
had several more shots at flocks composed of the same 
mixed elements, and our bag was 135 sand pipers, twenty- 
two curlews, seven sickle bills, twenty-six willets, and five 
| jack curlews. The jack is the prince of curlews. The 
| largest. one I measured by my India-rubber boots, and he 
reached quite to the top of it, and would weigh fully three 
anda half pounds. Jake then proposed supper, and whilst 
he was preparing a fine jack curlew as the piece de resistance 
T took a saunter on the beach. I saw a few stray ducks, 
quite early for the season, perhaps prognosticating a cold 
winter, and I was about returning to camp when I noticed 
three black plover coming directly towards me from the 
northward, They flew well over me, all in a bunch. Quite 
a risky shot, but, although it was quite twilight, with a 
lucky shot from my Snyder Allen I brought down the mid- 
dle bird. He proved to be a very handsome specimen of 
the black plover. He had very glossy black plumage on 
his back and wings, while on the ordinary plover the feath- 
ers are mottled. On my returning to Jake, the old man de- 
clared he had not seen a black Zplover killed for quite a 
number of years. 
Jake’s birds were cooked to a turn, and shortly after 
supper, I listened to some of his stories—histories of 
grand times, when Virginia families kept retinues of ser- 
vants, and were lavish with their hospitality—all of which 
good old Jake said ‘were done gone away long ago, sir, 
and never to come back no more.” No doubt they were 
quite interesting stories, but I found myself nodding, and 
was glad at an early hour to retire to the bed of cedar 
brush Jake had provided. It was cool enough during the 
night for me to find the fire quite comfortable. Next morn- 
ing Jake was anxious to show me a celebrated place, which 
the red-head duck resorts to later, and going there, leisurely 
walking along fife beach, I killed a few marlin and dowitch. 
The hirds seemed quite scarce this particular morning. My 
experience in regard to shooting all these bay birds is, that 
the wind should be blowing in shore and that there should 
be a full flood tide. By one o’clock Jake had me on board 
again, and after a pleasant sail he landed me on the main 
land, just below Taylor’s plantation, as the sun was going 
down, and I have barely light enough to write this, Jake 
promising me faithfully to carry it to Cherrystone to-night, 
if the tide suits, as he proposes to sell his birds there. 


Sincerely yours, . C. B. 
: ae 
; THE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 
——___o——_—_— 
Atexanpria Bay, N. Y., August 20, 1873. 
Eprror Forest AND STREAM: 
There are a thousand or more of these beautiful islands, 
and as yet, thank heayen, the first stroke of the degraded 
advertiser's brush has not desecrated their virgin purity. 
This is what pleases me most. After the barbarities of 
Newport, and the blasphemies of Niagara, it is inexpress- 
ably gratifying to think that one fair landscape is still unsul- 
lied by the liniment laureate and patent soap panegyrist. 
Tt isnow the fishing season, and abundance of sport ¢an 
be had. A little late for remarkable catches of maskinonge 
and sturgeon, but still early enough for good success in the 
line of pickerel and bass. We trail with a spoon, the most 
attractive of baits; it will catch anything from a minnow 
to a Massachusetts gubernatorial candidate. Fishing 
induces philosophy. A manis born; a fish dies; each 
has a silver spoon in his mouth. Right here is a beautiful 
moral, if I could only get ‘‘the hang” of it. Using this 
delusive snare, one is quite prepared, when he feels a ter- 
rific tug at the end of his hundred and sixty foot line, to 
-haulin a whale or leviathan; at least a mammoth maskie 
nonge. In such eases it isas well to expect a cartload of 
seaweed, and you won’t be disappointed if you don’t haye 
more than half a cartload. A boatman this summer caught 
a loon ‘‘on the dive,” with a spoon. He was not locking 
for any such fish, and the meeting on both sides was unex 
pected. Mutual explanations and apologies ensued, ‘This 
is not the usual way to catch loons. In fact there is no 
usual way. When you bag a loon, you look upon it asa 
special Providence, and don’t expect a repetition of the 
miracle. A man who could make a living from loon hunt- 
ing might attain affluence by writing temperance songs for 
Congressmen, 

Some very fine pickerel, weighing from ten to fifteen 
pounds, are caught here nearly every day. The writer se- 
cured yesterday a fine bass of twelve and a quarter pounds. 
IT make this reckless assertion with the disheartening con- 
viction that it will be doubted. But I believed it once my- 
self because the boatman said so. He said it was the largest 
of the season, and I subsequently found that other parties 
had also caught the largest of the season, frequently. The 
fisherman who does not get the largest bass of the season is 
either a very poor sportsman, or has an unreliable guide. 
The guides are not an unreliable class, however. Physi- 
cally they are models of strength and endurance; they will 
row all day without betraying a symptom of fatigue, or 
seeming to think themselves underpaid for their services, 
as boatmen and cooks, at the rate of three dollars a day. 
Our party were fortunate in possessing one who was a most 
efficient and obliging individual, and rejoicing withal in a 
fund of quaint and original humor, His name is Fred 
Edgeley, and T do not hesitate herewith to recommend him, 





that it may be an encouragement to all guides hereafter to 
merit oe approval from so impartial and competent a 
critic as ForEst AND STREAM. 
Across the river St. Lawrence is the Canadian shore. Itis 
a favorite resort for many tourists, and wonderful are the tro- 
phies of the rod brought back by devoted anglers. Silk umbrel- 
lasandkid gloves are frequently captured, and ona good day 
for fishing, I have seen a boatload of assorted liquors landed 
by a single sportsman. An honest old disciple of Izaak Wal- 
ton owns a preserve in the Canadian waters wherein are 
specimens that would astound Agassiz or old Ichthyologos 
himtelf. He it was who brought over the boatload of speci- 
mens one dusky evening, and sold them by auction to sun- 
dry virtuosi on the pier. The favorite fish was labeled “Old 
Tom;” and the simple cld angler assured his customers: 
“ Ye7ll have to thrayel many a moile to foinde a licker 
dat’ll whip dat.” He was an Irishman, and constitutionally 
averse to revenue laws. Nor was he without supporters of 
his anti-tariff principles. A corpulent gentleman from 
Utica, who carried an umbrella turned ‘aside out, with a 
good deal of ostentation, and wore one trousers leg turned 
up, assured me that the country was going to perdition for 
want of free trade in —- fish. This gentleman was a living 
champion and example of the brain- producing- -fish-diet 
theory, 
There will be good shooting here in a month or so, wild 
duck, geese, brant, &c. In the spring, I am told, there are 
myriads of such game. I think TI will come up then and 
killa myriad or two. 

J. J. Rocue. 
be 
STOCKING TROUT WATERS WITH BASS. 
ee gee 
August 25th, 1878. 
Eprror oF FoREST AND STREAM: 
I am glad‘to see that ‘‘ Fred Mather,” in your issue of the 
14th, alludes to the beastly yellow perch as ‘‘ that predatory 
bunch of bones,” and congratulates California upon the loss 
of the specimens which Mr. Livingston Stone so fortunately 
lost in the Elkhorn river. 
While on the subject of introducing predatory fish into 
waters previously ‘“‘ unvexed” with them, I would like to 
see a fair description in regard to pickerel and even black 
bass! 
I beg pardon of the latter fish for naming him with the 
pickerel, for I heartily wish every pickerel could be taken 
out of our waters, (and eaten up, if so desired; any way, so, 
that he be destroy ed.) But while conceding the value of 
the black bass as a game fish, lam in great fear that our 
trout streams are destined eventually to be cleared out of 
their rightful spotted denizens by the more voracious bass. 
In many directions I hear of the introduction of these black 
bass into our ponds and streams, until it seems as if any 
effort to restock streams with trout would be anticipated 
by the placing of bass therein. Talk, as some anglers do, 
about the difference in habits of the two fish leading them 
to select different parts of the same stream; I know that 
black bass affect the same runs, rocks and hiding places as 
trout; they are as fond of swift water, and the same kind of 
rocky bottoms; and in time are sure to overpower, outnumber ~ 
and eat the more slowly increasing and less predatory trout. 
The highest waters in the State of New York were injured 
by the Fish Commissioners placing black bass in Racquette 
lake two years ago. The water of that largest lake in the 
woods communicates with Racquette river, into which Cold 
river flows, ‘which these same bass in time will surely 
pass through into Preston Ponds; and then what becomes 
of the efforts of the Club to preserve those lakes? 
T have fished in Cold river, and know what glorious trout 
it dd furnish years ago, and I have been at Preston Ponds, 
They are, I think, the two most beautiful’ small sheets of 
water in the Adirondacks, and are natural nurseries of trout; 
and most heartily do I wish good luck to the Club you men- 
tion as hiring the Ponds; but I doubt the success of any such 
venture, if our Fish Commissioners are to continue their 
zealous distribution of bullheads, suckers, perch, bass, any- 
thing that has fins and multiplies rapidly, and is desired 
by the short-sighted inhabitants on the banks of our streams, 
and especially our beautiful trout lakes of the Adirondacks. 
Please, Mr. Editor, do give the weight of your influence 
against this scattering of predatory fish (many of them in- 
ferior,) over our State. There are many lakes and streams 
now infested with pickerel and even poorer fish, which can 
be very advantageously stocked with black bass. Good luck 
to all such efforts; all anglers are fond of black bass, which 
rise to a fly, as well as take a worm; but laws forbid that 
our trout streams should be destroyed and depopulated by 
the introduction of any other fish not now there. There 
are many brooks and ponds which only need restocking~ 
with trout to again afford good fishing, and I confidently 
expect that the science of pisciculture will furnish means of 
bringing about that desirable end before long. 
Tam impelled to write this plea just now by some experi- 
ence lately obtained. I have been endeavoring to lease some 
brook or lake in the interior of our State, within 100 miles 
of New York, which once contained trout, and which could 
again be stocked with them. In many of the ponds I found 
black bass and perch already placed, (obtained from that 
conf—d—d ‘‘ State distributing-hatching house,”’) and most 
of the streams connected with others in which the same fish 
had been placed. If farmers only knew it, they could ob- 
tain amuch larger price from clubs for leases of trout brooks 
and ponds, than for waters where only the inferior fish 
could be obtained. You know something of this as carried on 
on Long Island, Yours, PiscaTor, 

