26 
- FOREST AND STREAM. 


WOODMAN SPARE THAT TREE. 
et ee 
HE direct evil effect of the indiscriminate cutting of 
the woods and forests has become a topic of general 
comment. Once the Ohio river ran as an almost unbroken 
stream, allthe year around, from Pittsburg to its junction 
with the Mississippi. To-day the waters are so shallow, im- 
peding navigation to that extent, that the West is awakening 
to the fact that unless some effort be made, the Ohio will 
be impassible for boats of even a light draught for fully six 
months in the year. Huge works to cost millions of dollars 
are spoken of as necessary to restore the river to its former 
condition. As aleading journal justly remarks, ‘‘ the differ- 
ence between the Ohio now and a hundred years ago undoubt- 
edly lies in the destruction of the forest which once almost 
completely covered the area watered by the Ohio and its 
northern tributaries.” 
Of course civilization has its requirements, but we rarely 
can infringe with impunity on the primitive condition of 
things without nature asserting some of her rights. If the 
cutting of the Suez canal and the proposed planting of trees 
on its banks may probably in time make meteorological 
changes of importance, perhaps for the benefit of the whole 
country, in like manner the denuding of whole sections of 
land of their trees, must exert a contrary and pernicious 
action. Professor Newberry, of Ohio, says: 
‘<A dense forest growth is a great equalizer, both of tem- 
perature and of the flow of surface water. While the fores 
is unbroken it acts as a blanket, covering the soil, protect- 
ing it from the winds, both drying and chilling. It serves, 
also, as a great sponge, receiving and retaining moisture, 
and allowing its gradual escape. When the forest is re- 
moved, however, and the soil cultivated, the surface smooth 
and the drainage facilitated, as it is in a thousand ways, 
and the sun and winds admitted, the effect cannot but be 
marked, even though the annual rain-fall be not materially 
changed.” 
The remedy lies in the judicious cutting of the forests. 
Some day, when the natural sequence of things is better 
understood, men will cease, from motives of self-Interest, 
this indiscriminate leveling of the woods; but until they are 
thus actuated it would be neither tyrannical nor unwise to 
have some legislative action adopted to prevent this grow- 
ing evil, 
Sea and River Sishing. 
GAME FISH IN SEASON IN AUGUST. 


Striped Bass, (Labrax Lineatus.) 
Trout, (Salmo Fortinalis.) 
Black Bass, (Centrarchus Fasciatus.) 
Land-locked Salmon, (Salmo Gloveri. 
Bluefish, (Temnodon Saltator.) 
Salmon, (Salmo Salar.) 
Sea Trout, (7rutta Marina.) 
Grayling, (Thymallus Signifer.) 
Maskinonge. 
Salt water fishing is now in its prime, and the Atlantic 
coast from Buzzard’s Bay to Cape May is swarming with blue- 
fish, striped bass, and weakfish, besides the other varieties of 
scarcer or more sluggish fish, such as Spanish mackerel, 
kingfish, sea bass, black-fish or tautog, porgies, sheepshead, 
&c. Within the present summer an unusual variety of com- 
paratively strange fish and heretofore unknown in the wa- 
ters of the North Atlantic, have made their appearance in 
this latitude. They are caught in the seines and traps of 
the market fishermen. We described three of these varities 
in the last issue of ForEst AND StREAM. Allare peculiar to 
the Caribbean Sea and other tropical waters. It is only two 
years ago that the pompino, a great delicacy of the Louis- 
ania coast, was first observed here. The drum, sheepshead 
and kingfish are all recent comers, and even the bluefish 
was unknown forty years ago. It would seem that the tem- 
perature of the'water, like that of portions,of our globe, is 
becoming warmer, and that climatic changes are causing 
this imigration from Southern seas to our own. What are 
the specific causes, we must leave to hydrographers to de- 
termine. 
Although the weakfish does not come within the category 
of legitimate game fish, he is a beautiful specimen of the 
finny tribe, and under conditions presently to be mentioned 
affords sport of the most exciting and interesting character. 
This fish is also known as the suckermaug, squeteague, and 
sea-trout. He is marked by gorgeous spots upon a ground 
of blue and silver, and by red and yellow fins, which are 
characteristic of the fresh water trout, and have undoubt- 
edly given to it the name of ‘‘ trout” insome sections. Ordi- 
narily it is caught by ‘hand-lines fished from a boat. 
These weakfish come in with the tide in immense shoals, 
following the small fry upon which they and their con- 
geners feed, and are caught by the boat-load at half flood, 
within a few feet of the surface. Bait with a shrimp or 
shedder, and keep the line constantly in motion, and half 
the time you will ‘‘jig” them in the belly, tail or side, as 
the finny mass moves over the hook. Down at the ‘* Nar- 
rows” of New York Bay, near Fort Richmond, is a favorite 
place. In New Haven harbor, and other harbors of the 
Sound, and especially in the vicinity of Montauk Point, 
Long Island, they are taken in great numbers. However, 
no one but market-fishermen and novices take weakfish in 
this way. They prefer to fish with rods and finer tackle in 
deeper water along the edges of channels and tide-races, 
where the rocks or shifting sands form shelves and ledges 
to which the small fry gather for safety and where bits of 
organic matter are drifted by the tide and deposited. Here the 
weakfish run singly and much larger in size—four times the 
weight of those ‘‘ schooling "—coming along under the still 
water of the ledges where their prey is huddled, and gulp- 
ing down large masses at a moutful. These big fellows are 
designated as *‘ tide-runners.” 
pounds, and pull well in a five-knot current. 
They weigh about four. 
But there is another mode, still, of taking weakfish, of 
which, verily, many an old fisherman wotteth not. Atten- 
tion, all! Takea ‘‘cat-rigged” boat, a craft with a main- 
sail only and mast stepped well forward, one that works 
quickly, for quick work is required, and go to Fire Island 
Inlet at half ebb. At half ebb, or when the tide is running 
out like a mill-tail, is the only time to take them. Should 
you attempt the experiment on the flood, you would lose 
your boat and your life. Let there be a good stiff quarter- 
ing breeze, and now with a steady helm and a good rap 
full, bear right down on the beach, mounting the very crest 
of the waves that in ten seconds more will break into shiv- 
ers on the sand. Keep a quick eye, a steady nerve, and a 
ready hand. You will take the edge of the swift current 
where it pours out of the inlet. Fear not the mounting 
‘“combers,” or the breaking foam, the tide will bear you 
back and keep you off the shingle. Right here at the mouth 
of the inlet, the action of the tide is constantly washing out 
the sand, and as it is borne down on the current, it presently 
sinks by its own specific gravity, and gradually piles up 
until it forms a little ledge a foot high or more, just as the 
driving snow in winter is borne over the crest of a drift 
until it forms a counter-scarp, with an apron hanging over 
the abrupt and perpendicular verge. Right under the edge 
of this ledge the small fry congregate, and the ‘‘tide-run- 
ners ” forage for food. Here throw your ‘‘squid.” Just 
now is the critical instant. In two seconds you will either 
be founding on the beach or surging down on the impetuous 
current of the strong ebb tide. The breeze is blowing fresh. 
Up mounts your boat onthe glassy billow whose crest is 
foaming just two rods in front. A false move now is ruin- 
ous. Ready about, hard down your helm! NVow/ while she 
shakes, toss in your ‘‘squid” into the deep green brine. 
There, you have him. 
Keep her away, and haul in lively. 
Hurrah! a four-pounder. Lift him over the rail easy; belay 
your sheet there—steady! Whish! away we go, with wind and 
tide fair, and a seven knot current, and in a jiffy are swept 
many rods off from the land, and ready to repeat the 
manceuvre again, Clear away your line, come about, and 
charge up to the beach once more. What can be more ex- 
citing? No time to stop for lunch now. Here we have all 
the attractions and excitement of yachting and fishing com- 
bined, with every sense on the alert and every nerve tautened 
to fullest tension. Who will dare turn up his nose in con- 
tempt of weakfishing. 
Striped bass are rapidly working their way to the south- 
ward, and along our own and the adjacent shores of New 
Jersey, a small run of fish that average a pound in weight, 
have been taken with shrimps or shedders by fishermen while 
angling for weakfish. Mr. Masters, of the Brooklyn Sport- 
man’s Emporium, however, took some off Gravesend at the 
close of last week which ran up to six pounds. In a fort- 
night the season will be at its height and big fish running. 
Anglers are having fine sport taking blue-fish with a rod 
in the vicinity of Fire Island, both inside and outside of 
the Bay. They are of large size, running from ten to thir- 
teen pounds. An ordinary two-jointed bamboo bass-rod is 
used, with float and sinker, and shedder crabs for bait. A 
wire snell is requisite to prevent the fish from snapping off 
the line. Those who have tried it pronounce the sport very 
exciting. 
George Evans, Esq., of Brooklyn, returned last week 
from the Thousand Isldnds, St. Lawrence river, where he 
took one hundred and fifty black bass, some of which 
weighed four pounds. He used a spoon. . 
The Rangely Lake Hatching Association are constructing 
a hatching house at Rangely Lakes, and have put in 
40,000 grown fish. This association will propagate both 
salmon and trout. The works are very large. 
Mr. H. O. Stanley, Fish Commissioner of Maine, has just 
caught a salmon weighing twelve pounds, in the St. Croix 
river, near Vanceboro, the first taken for forty years in 
those waters. It was caught with a fly. ; 
Members of the Oquossoc Club took from the Rangely 
Lake watersin Maine, this season, over 1,000 speckled trout, 
which averaged a poundapiece. The largest weighed eight 
pounds. 
$< 0g _—__—. 
A WAIF FROM THE SEA. 
2 a ares 
A venerable fisherman who has had sixty years of experi- 
ence, utters this complaint of the disregard of all amenities 
among the fishermen of Cape May: 
Eprror ForREST AND STREAM: 
Fond of the sea in gil its majestic beauty, and seeking 
retirement from the busy world, I launched my little boat 
from the quiet landing at Van Gilder’s, on Mill creek, in the 
town of Seaville, Caye May Co., N. J., one beautiful morning, 
just as the tide began to ebb, and the sun pushed his radiant 
portion of a circle above the eastern horizen, and took my 
crooked, winding course for Townsend’s Inlet. 
The occasional sudden splash of an eel as he rolled from 
the bank, or the sweet, clear whistle of the willet, reminded 
me that I was not alone inthe world, though the deep- 
gorged creeks entirely shut me out from the sight of man. 
Thus I wended my way across the beach, looking seaward 
and upward as the breakers foamed and lashed the sand 
beneath my feet—seaward, as I trembled lest the ocean should 
forget its jurisdiction, and upward in remembrance of the 
Divine command, ‘‘ Thus far shalt thou go and no farther.” 
The sight was grand, as the foam-capped billows came 
frolicking in like flocks of snowy sheep, and the sea-gulls, 
with graceful curve of wing, darted beneath the waves in 
search of prey. One in particular attracted my attention, 
sailing round and round an eddy, swaying to and fro, as if 
to watch the graceful motion of some royal fish beneath, 
when suddenly down, out of sight, and up again, sailing 
towards the beach, and over my head, lo, from its-bill 

-springs you back to your first position. 
there fell at my feet, no fish, but a roll of manuscript. With 
eager haste I opened it and found the following: 
“History of Sir Isaac Walton, the fisherman, from Sir 
Isaac’s lips before he breathed his last. 
““My ancestors were fishermen of Gallilee, with Peter, 
James, and John, but my father, Isaac, whose name I bear, 
came to this country in 1780, with Lord Cornwallis, who, 
landing his army at this inlet and finding the country a 
trackless desert, detailed Col. Watson with his corps of en- 
gineers, to open a road through to Egg Harbor. The work 
was quickly but roughly done, without the aid of compass, 
and the British army marched triumphantly through its beau- 
tiful concave bed, amid the shouts and cheers of the people 
in the vieinity. It wasa crooked road, made without regard 
to either lines, curves, or angles. Its sidewalk, equally as 
well defined as the road, commingled its beautiful irregu- 
larities with the grades, in manner much like the creeks 
emptying into the Sound, they having no bottom to the mud, 
and it having no bottom to the sand. This road was left by 
the noble English lord as a legacy to the people of Seaville, 
together with many a brave soldier who built it, with the 
injunction that it should never be altered, amended, or dis- 
turbed tillthe day when time shall be no more. Hence its 
present condition. 
‘““But to my history. My good, kind, genial old father 
died at three-score years and ten, full of honor, and full of 
scales, leaving the little family a small farm with fishing 
privileges usual in those days, and to me his boat and fishing 
gear, with the injunction that in all my piscatorial excursions 
1 should strictly adhere to the following rules, viz.: Ist, 
faithfully study the nature and habits of the fish you seek; 
2d, give freely of your catch to your neighbor; 3d, never 
make a noise as younear the fishing ground, 4th, never pass 
your boat over the lines of other fishermen; 5th, anchor your 
boat even on the tide with other boats; 6th, avoid the com- 
pany of every man who refuses to observe these rules; 7th, be 
a gentleman at all times and places; 8th, fool the fish but not 
yourself. And now, my dear friends, he said, as he cast his 
eye around the grotto of the mermaids, in which was con- 
eregated the various tribes of whale, sheesphead, drum, bass, 
blackfish, mackerel, skate, tautaug, porgee, weakfish, shark, 
dogs, goody, oysters, shad, stingaree, and,though last but 
not least,.the bluefish, I call you all to witness that I have 
kept all these rules from my youth up; not one jot or tittle 
of them have I broken, and I call you also to witness this 
day how these good rules been broken and trampled on 
by the fishermen of this region. The citizens of South Sea- 
ville, it is well known throughout the length and breadth of 
the land, are hospitable, kind, honest, truthful, religious, 
sentimental, charitable, not given to tattling; sober, and dis- 
creet, but the fishermen are shamefully ignorant of the rules 
and etiquette of fishing, which should, and in other parts of the 
world do, govern the conduct of every true disciple of mine. 
In these waters I have been singled as a target to be run 
over by passing boats; my hooks caught by center-boards; 
anchors thrown over my lines; boats rushed as near to me 
as possible in order to frighten a shoal of fish; my kellock 
has been fished; men, like dogs in the manger, have pur- 
posely upset my fishing, and when remonstrated with, re- 
ply, ‘‘fish are not frightened by passing boats, and all old 
fishermen say so.” These things are so. Yes, the Reach, 
Seaglies, Brothers, the Sounds, “Ware, Thoroughfare, and a 
host of places are witnesses to it, and I have been grossly 
insulted.”* To which the whole convention unanimously 
cried out, ‘‘amen, amen!” and as the last echo of this loud 
response reverberated through the grotto, the noble stock of 
the house of Walton gathered up his remaining strength, 
and rising to his feet exclaimed, with the death rattle sound- 
ing in his throat: ‘‘ My friends, by reason of these things my 
days have been shortened. To-day I go the way of all flesh. 
My last request is that the rules that governed me for three- 
score years and five, be put up in the mouth of every creek 
and thoroughfare in this your jurisdiction, so that the way- 
fisherman, though a fool now, may read and become wise 
hereafter.” 

So 
SAVING HUMAN LIFE. 
——— 
Accidents to fishermen, yachtmen, and sportsmen are so 
frequent that it is wise that not only they, but the general 
public should be thoroughly acquainted with all the 
methods of resusc itatingpersons taken from the water. 
We copy in full the series of rules published by the execu- 
tive committee of the Life Saving Society of New York for 
the treatment of persons who may be rescued from the water 
in an insensible condition: 
Rue 1.—To drain off water from the chest and stomach: Instantly 
strip the patient to the waist. Place him face downward, the pit of his 
stomach being raised above the level of his mouth by a large roll of 
clothing placed beneath it. Throw your weight forcibly two or three 
times, for a moment or two, upon the patient’s back, over the roll of 
clothing so as to press all the finids in the stomach out of ‘the mouth. 
RuE 2.—To perform artificial breathing: pee turn the patient 
upon his back, the roll of clothing being so placed beneath as to make 
_the breast-bone the highest point o the body. 
Kneel beside or astride patient’s hips. Grasp front part of the chest 
on either side of the pit of the stomach, resting your fingers along the 
spaces between the short ribs. Brace your elbows against your sides, and 
steadily grasping and pressing forward and upward, throw your whole 
weight upon chest, an adually increasing the pressure while you can 
count one, two, three. hen, suddenly, let go witha final push, which 
Rest erect wpon your knees 
while you can count one, two, three! then make pressure again as before, 
repeating the entire motions at first about four or five times a minute 
gradually increasing to about-ten or twelve times. : 
Use the same regularity as in blowing bellows, and as is seen in natural 
breathing, which your are imitating. 
If another person be erate let him, with one hand, by means of a 
dry piece of linen, hold the tip of the tongue out of one corner of the 
mouth, and, with the other hand grasp both wrists and pin them to the 
ground above the patient’s head. 
After-treatment.—After breathing has become natural, dry the patient 
briskly. Wrap him in blankets only, and let him be kept perfectly quiet. 
Provide free circulation of air, Give brandy and water—a teaspoonful 
every five minutes the first half hour, and afterward occasionly as may 
seem expedient. : 
1. Avoid delay. A moment may turn the scale for life or death. Dry 
ground, shelter, stimulants, &c., at this moment are nothing—artificial 
breathing is everything—is the one remedy—all others are secondary. If 
the breathing has just ceased, asmart slap on the face or stomac will 
sometimes start it again, and may be tried incidentally. 
2 Prevent friends from crowding around the patient and excluding cur- 
rents of air; also from attempting administration of any stimulant  be- 
fore the patient is well able to swallow; the first promotes suffocation, 
the second fatal choking. ee 
3 Avoid impatience of results. Any time within two hours, you may be 
on the very threshold of success, without there being any sign of it. 
In suffocation from smoke, coal-gas, or other poisonous gases, as also 
in hanging, proceed in the same way as for drowning, but omit Rule 
No. 1. d 
Tn case of sun-stroke lay the patient in the shade, in free current of air; 
loosen the clothing, raise the head slightly, and pour upon it a small 
gtream of cool water. : : 
The following important suggestions to bathers are also given by the 
society; 
Avoid entering the water within two hours after a meal; or when ex- 
hausted from any cause; or when the body is cooling after perspiration. 
Stay in the water usually not more than fifteen minutes. . 
