

FOREST AND STREAM: 


liam isan Hudson's Bay post. Its oldest building is one 
hundred and sixteen years old, built of stone, and loop- 
holed for musketry. There are some thirty offices, stores, 
dwellings and out buildings within the main enclosure. A 
couple of iron cannon guard the entrance; two antiquated 
sailing crafts lie at the landing; anda tall flag-staff towers over 
all Very neat and well cared for is the ancient post, with 
its lawns, hot-beds, flower gardens, grainaries and live stock. 
The old factors who have sojourned here, totally isolated 
from civilization until recently, neglected none of those 
appliances that could make their life tolerable. Good 
old wines stock the cellars, rare pictures hang on the walls, 
croquet is set on the lawn, and the bird of Juno screams 
from the white washed paling. There are Guinea fowl, 
piggeries, henneries, apiaries, dove-cots, and stock-yards; 
rare plants, redundant vegitables forced under glass, and 
trailing vines in profusion. Indian emplyees and French 
half-breeds lodge on the premises, and fifty gaunt dogs, 
long-legged, sharp-eared and wolf-like, stroll at random by 
day, and make the place hideous by night. .The principle 
store is vast in extent and contains a variety of goods in 
quantity that would seem to exceed all possible exigencies 
of demand. In old times, visitors were few and far be- 
tween, and the Indians who came in the spring to bring 
their furs, and returned to their traps in the fall with their 
winter supplies, were the only society the wilderness afford- 
ed. As it is, the place is shut out from the world for seven 
months of the year. But the Canadian Pacific railway sur 
vey has wrought a great change. The hundreds of survey- 
ors upon the routes need supplies, and have created de- 
mand for transportation, while the prospect of the speedy 
construction of the road has induced emigration. Last 
year the steamboat line was established, and the way to this 
remote region is now made easy. 
Prince Arthur’s Landing is three miles east of Fort Wil- 
liam. It is a frontier slab and canvas town that has grown 
up within four years in expectation of being made an ob- 
jective point on the railroad route. It contains five hun- 
dred inhabitants, who are supplied with grog by two tav- 
erns and shops. Should the road give it the go-by, its 
rapid depopulation and decline is predicted. There is a 
route hence to Fort Garry, Manitoba, which has been laid 
out to compete with the American steamboat and railroad 
line 2% Duluth, Brainard, Moorhead, and the Red River. 
It is called the ‘‘ Dawson route.” Patriotism, want of cash, 
or a concession to the powers that be, have impelled many 
a poor emigrant to travel four hundred miles over this dis- 
mal succession of alternate ponds and portages to his land 
of promise in the far Northwest, when he might have ac- 
complished the journey by the American route with more 
comfort in less time. The conveyances over the portages 
are rude wagons, and little tug-boats tow batteaux through the 
lakes and frequent reaches of water. There are some forty 
portages in all, and baggage and freight has to be shifted 
as many times as there are portages. 
Prince Arthur’s Landing lies at the head of Thunder 
Bay, an expanse of water twenty miles in diameter, encir- 
cled by an amphitheatre of fantastic hills and guarded at 
its portal by Thunder Cape, a rugged headland of columnar 
trap several hundred feet high. In a fog, when the steam- 
er’s whistle sounds, the reverberations leap and re-echo from 
point to point of the entire circumference of the bay. But 
when the Titanic voice of the thunder-blast rolls through 
the broad expanse, it resounds with mighty intonations 
that shake the cliffs and split the air, and give to cape and 
bay their most appropriate name. It is the tongue of the Great 
Spirit ,Nana-bijoo, that speaks. But, alas! forthe reputation. 
of the Indian storm-god! That divinity once upon atime got 
drunk, andlying down upon the summit of the cliffs, never 
rose again. His gigantic form can even now be seen plainly 
limned in the outline of the adjacent mountain ridge. 
It has been the custom of the Indians to toss him a bit of 
tobacco, by way of a propitiatory offering, as they pass! 
but most of them at the present day regard it as a nseles 
waste of the precious weed—kawin nishin—not of much 
account. 
Twenty-two miles east of Prince Arthur’s Landing is the 
far-famed Silver Islet, which yields an annual wealth of 
revenue to the company of Americans that work it. It for- 
merly belonged to Canadians, who could not make it pay; 
but they bite their lips now in rueful disappointment to see 
the precious treasures that are constantly unearthed and 
shipped away by the hundred barrels at a time. The 
mines are of untold value and could not be bought, it is 
said, for less than $18,000,000. Silver Islet—almost of solid 
silver—was originally a rock but a few yards long that rose 
from the waves a half mile from the mainland. Delving 
into it, and following the shining lead, the miners sunk 
their shaft some three hundred feet down into the pyramid, 
and bringing the debris to the surface have enlarged their 
insular domain, protected it with massive cribs, and erected 
their engine houses and other buildings thereon, structures 
of massive timbers tree-nailed and bolted together, to resist 
the winds and waves that beat with mighty force upon this 
coast.. The ‘‘lead” trends north-east, and the miners are 
now working under the lake toward the main land, taking 
the risk of their uncertain roof falling through and letting 
in the mass of waters that flow overhead. Upon the main 
land are the company’s stores, and other works, and other 
shafts now being sunk to head off the lead. Steam tugs 
ply to and from the island and bring over the precious ore 
and the gangs of laborers employed. So strict are the rules 
and precautions against pilfering, that each miner is obliged 
to strip and be searched before he leaves the islet, This 
discipline he agrees to before he enters the service, 
Now for Nepigon, ssventy-four miles eastward, Steam: 
too far advanced. 
ing for several hours along the coast, we enter the noble 
Nepigon Bay, the most picturesque and enchanting of all 
the many localities of Lake Superior. Within its bosom 
, are large high islands, fifteen hundred feet from base to 
summit, covered with verdure; little islets that scarcely 
afford a resting place for the trees and shrubbery that make 
them beautiful; grassy, marshy lowlands that feed and 
shelter water-fowl innumerable; and away up at its head, 
and within the embrace of the river, is the famed Rep 
Rock, sacred to the great Manitou and all the other Indian 
gods, and covered with devices, totems, and hieroglyphics 
that tradition says were indellibly graven on its face 
when the rock was formed. This rock is a red slate cliff 
some 800 feet high, whose face contrasting with the living 
green of the verdure that envelops it, presents a charming 
feature and always a prominent landmark from distant 
points. The Indians manufacture pipes from the stone, 
and these pipes are always regarded as ‘‘ good medicine.” 
Half a mile above is Red Rock Landing, a Hudson’s Bay 
Company’s post and the starting point for our canoe voyage 
up the river. This letter is already so long that I will only 
touch salient points that may be of value to sportsmen who 
contemplate a trip this season. Here can be obtained al- 
most everything requisite for camping out; cedar boats, 
and birch canoes, tents, blankets, woolen shirts, Hudson’s 
Bay overcoats, corduroys, cigars and tobacco, canned 
fruits, dessicated meats, condensed soups, milk and coffee, 
pickles, English ale, whisky for medicinal use, new Testa- 
ments, flour, pork and ham, cutlery, boots, shoe-packs— 
at ridiculously low prices. Good guides and Indian canoc- 
men can be had at a dollar per day each. The river is 
forty-five miles long to ‘the great Nepigon Lake at its head, 
and is broken by fifteen chutes or falls, at all of which is 
the best of fishing. It has an average width of two hun- 
dred yards, and at frequent intervals widens into lakes 
two miles and more in width, in which the toothsome white- 
fish and the great lake trout dwell. Camping ground is ex 
cellent everywhere, and there is a beaten trail across the 
portages, over portions of which a wagon might pass with 
ease; for this has long been a thoroughfare for the Compa- 
ny’s employees, who, once a year at least bring down their 
furs and carry back their annual supplies to Nepigon 
House above. There isample casting room throughout. The 
depth varies, as Ihave found by actual soundings of my 
own, fromtwenty to two hundred and fifty feet, and the wa- 
teris so cold at all times as to benumb the limbs. Its temper- 
ature is about 882. In September partridges (ruffed grouse), 
are thick as bees, and the forests abound in bears, rabbits, 
and other fur-bearing animals and small game. There are 
a few cariboo, but no deers or any other species of the 
genus Cervus. By August the flies and punkies will all have 
disappeared. The trout will have become fat and gamey; 
for they spawn later here than in most other localities. 
Bring your tackle with you. 
stout rod, and red and brown hackles, and you are well pre- 
pared for business. Do not permit habit or education to 
induce you to doubt my instructions, or think the season 
August and September are the glorious 
harvest months for trout. , 
- And now, beware how you shake hands with old Bob 
Crawford, the jovial, genial agent of the Company’s post, 
for he has a heart as warm as mush and a grip like a steel 
trap. Tl tell you all about it in my next. 
Don’t forget your warm clothing, for the nights are cold. 
HAVELOCK. 
STUPENDOUS ENGLISH BETTING. 
—_—_>—_—__ 
U PON the Derby of 1867 Lord Hastings lost by far the 
heaviest sum that was ever loston arace. It seems but 
the other day that the air was vocal with the enthusiastic 
cheers that greeted his appearance on the course at Ascot, af- 
ter paying away through his comissioners about £100,000 on 
the Derby settling. In many alittle race at Newmarket Lord 
Hastings backed his horse to win £10,000. It made no dif- 
ference to him whether the bookmakers asked him to stake 
£2,000 or £5,000 against their £10,000. Whatever they off- 
ered in the way of odds, so long as the sum was large 
enough, he was content to book ; and during his short ca- 
reer on the Turf the odds laid were shorter and the gains 
won by the bookmakers larger than during any three years 
of the present century. He often paid away £40,000 or 
£50,000 upon a settlement after a Houghton or Second Oc- 
tober meeting ; and since Lord Hasting’s time high bets 
have been the rule at Tattersall’s and the Ring. Mr. J. B. 
Morris, the bookmaker, has been known to lay £40,000 to 
£600 against each of five of Sir Joseph Hawley’s horses, 
against each of six of the Duke of Newecastle’s horses, and 
against a horse of Mr. Chaplin’s. Again, £1,000 to £10 has 
been laid that a certain horse would win the Liverpool Cup, 
and £1,000 to £10 that Sir Frederick Johnstone would ride 
the winner; and Mr. Chaplin has been known to win 
£140,000 upon the Derby, and Captain Machell, his confed- 
erate, £60,000. A year or two ago Mr, Chaplin won a levi- 
athan bet of £50,000 that The Hermit would beat The Pal- 
mer the first time they met, and £10,000 that The Hermit 
beat Marksman. You may meet men by the dozen at Tatter- 
sall’s who, if they choose to tell you their secrets would tell you 
that their wits are worth £10,000 to £20,000 a year to them. 
Reduced to a system, nothing is safer than ‘‘ business on the 
Turf.” Lord George Bentinck for years kept up his mag- 
nificent stud by his book; and Mr. Harry Hill, his chief 
Ring commissioner, could, I fancy, tell us some piquant 
stories if he were to turn to his notebooks. It is said that in 
a single year Lord George netted nearly £50,000 upon a 
couple of horses alone.—Gentlemen’s Magazine. 
rr 
Quite an interesting pigeon shoot came off Aug. 12th at 
Ditmar’s farm, Flatlands, L, I., among a few gentlemen from 
Brooklyn, The birds were only middling, and the most of 
them did not fly direct from the trap. There were 140 birds 
shot at, Dr, W, killed eighteen out of twenty, and Mr, 
Radinsoventcen out of twenty, Several gentlemen practiced 
at thirty and forty yards with varied success, 


Include trolling tacKle, a 

Batural History. 
AMERICAN SARDINE AND ANCHOVY. 
ees 
HE minor fisheries of our coasts have as yet been en- 
tirely neglected and overlooked, though affording a 
sure and unfailing return for the capital invested in them. 
For instance, we import sardines and anchovies while count- 
less millions of them are playing along our coasts. The 
sardine of Europe is the young of a species of herring, 
known, when full grown, as the Pilchard. They are 
found from the Mediterranean to the English Channel, are 
easily captured, and are preserved in sweet oil or pickled. 
On ‘the St. Lawrence river, below Quebec, the French 
habitans put up quantities of young herring in this last- 
mentioned way, and thus prepare to meet the long winter 
and supplement their scanty and often failing crops of 
potatoes and barley. Any young herring can be thus pre- 
served, and would meet with a ready sale everywhere. 
We cannot yet furnish the olive oil for the second men- 
tioned method of preserving them, though it is to be 
hoped that the olive may be planted on the southern Al- 
leghanies, where it would thrive admirably, as well as the 
cork oak. We ought not to be dependent upon Europe 
for such easily-raised products. 
As for the anchovy, another of the herring family, we 
have it on our coast—a different species from the Euro- 
pean one, to be sure, and perhaps smaller in size, but 
equally good for use. It is described in DeKay’s ‘‘Fish of 
New York” as the Clupea Vittata, or satin-striped herring, * 
and is a well-marked fish, easily known by its projecting 
upper jaw, long gills and the bright silver stripe along its 
sides. It averages two and a half inches in length, but 
another species, found on the coast of California, ig 
much larger. It is found at sea, near the coast, in count- 
less myriads, and is a favorite prey of the blue fish. Only 
a few days since, while trolling for these ravenous pirates 
of the deep near the New York light ship, every bluefish 
we captured was gorged with the American anchovy. This 
delicate little herring is generally preserved by salting, or 
by grinding them up into a fine paste with salt. They 
are caught with fine purse nets, and would repay the small 
labor and capital required to go into the business in one 
season. 
If the few remarks we have jotted down should prove 
interesting, we may continue the subject’ and describe the 
proper mode of harvesting these valuable but entirely neg- 
lected, sources of wealth. J. Carson BREVooRT. 

*It is a true Hngraulis, or anchovy, aad was recognized a, 1 
Baird and Girard. No figure of it has been published a pence 
> 6 
CARRIER PIGEONS. 
, ae 
INCE the siege of Paris, where only balloons and car- 
rier pigeons escaped the vigilance of the Prussians, 
much attention has been directed towards this most inter- 
esting representative of the Columbide. Very few people 
whose tastes run towards pigeons are aware how many really 
bitter feuds have been fought out among ornithologists as 
to the exact classification of this well-known bird. Linneus 
insisted that they should be-classed with the Passers. Cuvier 
placed them in the category of gallinaceous birds ; while 
Buffon gave to them the dignity of a distinct order. An- 
other fact but little known is, that the Dodo, an extinct 
bird, whose fancy form is the constant illustration of most 
books of natural history, was the colossal bird of this fam- 
ily. Why is it, then, that the Dodo should be held in such 
ridicule by those having little respect for the sacred charac- 
ter of ornithology ? Perhaps it is on account of his name, or 
because of his ludicrous form. If not too late, the propri- 
etors of the Graphic, who are doing such wonders in a jour 
nalistic way, might add a Dodo or so to their list of profes- 
sors and carrier pigeons, to go in the balloon! There is no 
reason to suppose that the Dodo would not be true to the 
instincts of his race. Instead of being limited, however 
to a tiny note, written on the flimsiest of tissue paper, 
like his diminutive congener, the Carrier Pigeon, he might 
tug along a whole United States mail bag, padlock and all, 
from the upper regions of air to the earth, 10,000 feet below. 
To be sure there might be this trouble in the way : it is pos- 
sible he would lay his course for the Island of Mauritius, 
where alone he was once born and bred, and it is a long way 
from Mauritius to New York ; but then as all things are pos- 
sible for the Graphic, a special cable might*be laid from 
thence hither, to transmit the news. As to the carrier 
pigeons to be used in the coming ballon voyage, if they are 
dropped at sea, we doubt whether any of them will ever 
reach their homes. Wespeak seriously now. The question 
of how the carrier pigeon finds its way home, must always 
be a puzzling one. Mr. O. 8. Hubbell, an amateur breeder 
of these birds, who will furnish carrier pigeons for the 
Graphic balloon, writes as follows to that paper in regard tc 
them : 
“T go tomy farm next Thursday, and wlll take in hand training the birds 
for you myself, and will deliver to yon a dozen birds that you may depend 
upon, and you shali haye proof of their ability in a few days, when I wil 
send a basket of them, and you {shall liberate them, each with a mes 
sage, which I will transmit by mail to you as proof of their usefulness. ~ 
‘These birds never find their way over long distances unless they have 
been trained by gradual stages. 
“Their power of vision is very acute, and at the altitude in which they 
fly they have a view of the earth {beneath, with its great land marks ane 
recognizable features, ° 
Ap. 400 feet, the boundary of vision is a radial line of twentydive 
miles, 
“Aa thoy rise, the prospeet widens in amazing proportions, and they fiz 


