98 

before,"and amused ourselves opening oysters with spikes 
and penknives, a small boy providing us with all the bir 
valves we wanted by wading a short distance into the 
water. One day was enough for us at-Point Lookout, and 
after a farewell repast2of chicken legs-we took the steamer 
up river tHat night. During the past. summer there have 
been perhaps half a dozen families at this place, occupying 
the villa and the most: habitable of the cottages, put they 
brought with them from the city furniture, provisions, and 
all the requisites for housekeeping. Fish, oysters, and 
crabs may be had here in abundance, but everything else 
must be brought from Washington or Norfolk. The fish- 
ing here is said to be much better than at any of the points 
above, and particularly for sheepshead. Occasionally a 
sea turtle is caught. Last year two men, while fishing from 
a canoe, hooked a turtle which towed them across the Po- 
tomac to Cone river before they could secure it. It was 
finally captured and sent to Washington, and when killed 
weighed 350 pounds. 
The most popular resort on the Potomac at this time is 
Marshall’s, two miles below Piney Point, and one hundred 
miles from Washington. Until this year it was little known, 
save to sportsmen and a few persons who value comfort 
and independence more than fashion: The accommoda- 
tions were somewhat limited, consisting of a two-story and 
a half dwelling and country store combined, and a cottage 
with two rooms. This year a large three-story building 
was erected, and a steamboat wharf built, and the place is 
now knownas the St.George’s Hotel. The buildings are 
directly on the St. George’s river—more properly an inlet— 
which extends four miles above, and three miles below 
unites with the Potomac and St. Mary’s rivers. The Poto- 
mac is in full view, and but a quarter of a mile distant 
across the tongue of land on which the St. George’s Hotel 
ss situated. At the end of this point, less than half a mile 
from the hotel, are the Straits, a shallow strip of water be- 
tween the main landand St. George’s Island, through which 
canoes pass in going to Piney Point. But for this passage 
they would be compelled to sail entirely around St. George’s 
Island, a distance of ten or twelve miles. I have been thus 
particular in describing the topography of the place from 
reasons that will appear later. The surrounding waters are 
everywhere shoal near the shores, and are filled with oyster 
bars, which are often encountered in the most unexpected 
places by sailing parties. Oysters are found in every direc- 
tion, but those used at the hotel are brought in canoes from 
the St. Mary’s river, and delivered alongside the wharf for 
ten to fifteen cents a bushel. They are measured and thrown 
overboard, to be longed up when required. Half a dozen 
canoes lay at the wharf for the use of the guests, and a 
colored man is always to be had to sail them. No extra 
charge is made for the use of the canoes, nor for the raw 
oysters, of which one may eat a fill at any time from day- 
light to dusk. Indeed, there are no extra charges for any- 
thing, your dollar a day (if you stay more than a month, 
otherwise $35 per month) covering all necessary expenses. 
A blue shirt, an old pair of pants, a broad-brimmed straw 
hat, such as may be had in the store for thirty cents, 
is en regle for costume, a coat being essential only when you 
go to the table. A Saratoga trunk is therefore unncessary, 
a good sized yalise holding all that is required in the way 
of outfit, You will rise in the morning not later than sun- 
up, and take a bath in the tubs or tanks at the end of the 
wharf. These are perforated boxes, which may be let down 
to,any depth required, giving you all the benefit of a buff 
bath in the salt water without coming in contact with the 
sea-nettles, After your bath you will find your way to 
where two or three colored men are shucking oysters for 
the kitchen, and eat a dozen or more of the bivalves just 
from the water. It is then time to dress for breakfast, 
which meal will consist of whatever panfish have been 
taken by the fishermen in their gill nets the previous night 
—spot, crokers, small rock, or taylors—stewed and fried 
oysters, fried chicken, hot rolls, corn bread, waffles, and an 
abundance of milk. After breakfast nearly everybody ad- 
journs to the summer house, midway on the slender wharf, 
at the end of which are the bath-houses. Around it the 
canoes are moored, and here the sailing parties are made 
up. Some of the ladies, who dare not venture farther on 
the raging St. George, will seat themselves with a book, 
newspaper, embroidery, or crochet work, and watch the 
children crabbing. Their outfit for this sport is very sim- 
ple, and success certain. Haying procured a chicken’s 
head from the cook, it is tied to a string, weighted with an 
oyster shell, and thrown overboard. It will hardly reach 
pottom before it is seized by one of these voracious crus- 
tacea, and often with so firm a hold as to be drawn upon 
the wharf. A net with a long handle is necessary, how- 
ever, with which the crab is dipped up as he nears the sur- 
face and dropped into a box or barrel for transportation to 
the kitchen: ' This is fine sport for the children, who can 
sit in the shade and catch crabs until they tire. Albeit, 
these shell fish have been both scarce and small this year, a 
fact which no one was able to account for. The soft crab, 
a great delicacy, must be sought for at low tide, on a shady 
shore, among the tufts of sea: grass. Here it lies helpless, 
and is picked up by the fisherman as he wades along with 
observant eye. These not only furnish a favorite dish for 
the table, but bait for all the Potomac fish except the 
sheepshead. 
Between twelve and one o'clock, the ladies having had 
their baths, a crab and oyster lunch is in order. This is 
partaken of under the boatshed, on the shore. The crabs 
are sent down on a large tray, with condiments and soda 
crackers, anda colored boy brings a basket of oysters. 
The work bench or an old boat serves fora table, and all 

FOREST AND STREAM 
fall to. sans ceremonie. Then a siesta, For dinner there | 
will/be oyster or chicken soup, boiled and baked sheeps- 
head, oyster pie, chicken, duck, and goose, and a dessert 
of peaches and cream. After dinner the canoes will be in 
requisition again, and the croquet balls set in motion. For 
supper there will be cold fowl, stewed oysters, ham, cakes, 
and milk ad libitum. Soon after supper dancing commences, 
and is kept up until midnight. 
Such is a brief outline of a 
day’s doings at the St George’s Hotel. 
The facilities for sailing are unsurpassed. If the waters 
of the Potomac are too rough to venture upon, there is the 
more quiet St..George’s. You may go for miles inland, 
with little coves branching off on either hand; here a com- 
fortable farmhouse and there ‘anegro cabin; here an or- 
chard and there a tobacco patch. 
the St. George’s three miles, and rounding a point known 
as Cherryfield, enter the’St. Mary’s river, and visit the old 
Or you may go down 
colonial city of St. Mary’s, where landed the first settlers 
of Maryland. The St. Mary’sis three miles wide at its 
mouth, but soon narrows, only to branch off in various di- 
rections into inlets, which furnish scenery of the most 
charming and picturesque description. It is considered 
quite an expedition to sail around St. George’s Island, but 
by far a pleasanter one to land and visit a Captain Adams, 
whose garden and orchard contain the best of fruit. Here 
may be had figs, peaches, plums, pears, nectarines, melons, 
and apples in the greatest abundance, and at trifling cost. 
A party of four ate all they could on one occasion, and 
went away laden down, at a cost of only twenty-five cents. 
Another favorite sail is to Piney Point, distant one and a 
half miles by land, but nearly three miles by water. The 
course is down the St. George’s to the Straits, on opening 
which the Piney Point lighthouse comes into view. Once 
through the straits it is plain sailing, but the navigation 
otherwise is Somewhat difficult, and the inexperienced hand 
is apt to run his canoe hard and fast on an oyster bar. 
Sometimes he may push off with his steering paddle, but 
oftener he will have to jump overboard and pull his craft 
into deep water. On ‘‘steamer nights” parties are made up 
to go over to the Point to greet the new arrivals or speed 
the parting guests. The boat is due on her down trip at 
ten P. M., but on her up trip not until midnight; so that 
while in one case everybody is home again before twelve 
o'clock, in the other it is sometimes one, two, and three A. 
M. before all is quiet on the St. George’s. 
Twice a week the steamer Lady of the Lake lands a mail 
punctually from Washington at Piney Point, and it is 
brought over by wagon to Marshall’s, this being the post 
office. No sooner is the rumbling of the wheels heard than 
the parlor is deserted, and everybody rushes for the store. 
The mail-bag is emptied upon the counter, Mr. Marshall 
dons his spectacles, and seizing upon the letters calls off the 
names amid a terrible din and confusion. Envelopes are 
hurriedly torn open, messages shot to and fro, exclamations 
of satisfaction or regret uttered, and then, the letters hav- 
ing been disposed of, the newspapers are in order. The 
most momentous news is, however, of secondary import- 
anee toa “Letter from Marshall’s,” and this I have found to 
be the case at every watering place I have visited. Let 
them say what they will, people do like to see their names 
in print, and to have it known that they are ‘‘out of town.” 
Woe unto the watering-place correspondent who ignores 
this craving for newspaper notoriety. Even the indolent 
Bohemian, bent only on taking a respite from quill driving, 
is not safe from the assaults of neglected fair ones, but is 
waylaid in verandahs and beseiged in his cottage, as the 
writer can testify. Of course we had a Mrs. Grundy among 
us, but she tarried not long, and, on the whole, a nicer, 
jollier, happier set of people than were congregated at the 
St. George’s Hotel last summer it would be difficult to find. 
Thad intended deferring what Ihad to say concerning 
the fishing until another issue, but there is so little to be 
said that it may as well be said now. ' Up to the Ist of Sep- 
tember the fishing had been exceptionally poor. In June 
two young lads struck a school of rock, and, with soft 
crabs for bait, took forty pounds ina short time. There 
was no line fishing after that worth mentioning until about 
the 1st of August, when a fine string of white perch was 
taken in the mouth of a cove on the St. George’s, a mile 
above Marshall’s. All through the summer, however, the 
regular fishermen were bringing in sheepshead daily, with 
occasional intermissions.° Seven was the highest number 
caught in one day by one man; two or three being the or- 
dinary catch. ‘The sheepshead are caught at Sheepshead 
Rock, a mile or so above Piney Point, and in huddles, or 
hurdles, at the lower end of St. George’s Island. The bait 
used is a species of clam known as the man-nose. The 
hurdles are small enclosures formed by driving poles into 
the bottom, the bark being retained. The theory is that 
the fish feed on this bark. There must be a depth of water 
not less than ten or twelve feet, and a rocky or gravelly bot- 
tom. Hand linesare used, and when a fish is caught a small 
cord is made fast through the gills and attached to the boat. 
They are thus towed to a market, and when purchased are 
tied to the wharf to swim about until required for the table. 
The price paid the fishermen last summer was fifty cents a 
piece for sheepshead, large and small. They are sometimes 
taken weighing twenty-five pounds and upwards, but the 
average of the past season would hardly exceed ten pounds. 
The fishermen complain that the gillmets in use lower 
down destroy the fishing in this vicinity. This is no doubt 
quently and openly violated along the Potomac by boats 
from the Virginia shore.. ‘The penalties are severe, but no 
captures are made, and the illicit traflic goes on, 
A word should be said of the taylor, to my taste the best 
brought in a brace of fat ducks. 
true, and moreover, the fishery laws of Maryland. are fre-. 

fish taken in these waters. It may be taken with a troll, or 
with a hand line, soft crabs being used for bait in the latter 
case. 
Those who fish for sport, however, prefer to use a 
cedar pole, without a reel, and to feel the weight of the 
fish before landing it. Some parties were quite successful 
in the latter part of August, bringing in from fifty to one 
hundred good sized fish, but the best fishing is in Septem- 
ber. Spot and crokers were sometimes. taken with hook 
and line, but the supply for the table was furnished by the 
nets. ; { 
As for shooting, partridges are very abundant in this re- 
gion, and later in the season the duck shooting will be 
good; and occasionally a shot may be had into a flock of 
wild geese. Of smaller game no note is taken by the in- 
habitants, and the gunner from the city must find it out 
for himself. CHARLES A, PILSBURY. 
a 
GROUSE SHOOTING IN INDIANA. 
r 
CENTREVILLE, Indiana. 
Eprror Forrest AND STREAM :— 
Arriving at the little railroad station .of Remington (on 
the L. P. and B. R. R.), in Jasper County, Indiana, we 
were met by Joe, who was soon busily engaged in loading 
our baggage into his big two-horse, covered, spring wagon, 
said baggage consisting of a soldier tent, centre-pole, barrel 
of crackers, sugar-cured hams, ten pounds ham sausage, 
twenty-five pounds of butter, one dozen loaves bread, salt, 
pepper, one cheese, tobacco, shot guns, ammunition, blank- 
ets, &c., and we were soon on our way northward over the 
broad, green prairie, and our dogs had to run to keep up 
with our fiery team. 
We had searcely gone three miles from the station, when 
a prairie chicken (pinnated grouse) whirred away from the 
side of the road. Shot guns were then got ready, and pres- 
ently two more went sailing past ; but one was brought 
down, by whom I cannot tell, as we all fired at once, and 
each claimed that he had hit it. Every now and then our 
dogs would start one, sometimes half a dozen in a drove, 
but they were too far off for a shot, and we were anxious 
to get to our camping-ground, We saw a few sand-hill 
cranes and ducks, in sloughs, or places where there was 
water. About sunset we arrived at our camping-ground, 
a place which certainly did credit to Joe’s judgment in se- 
lecting it, for it was a nice little grove of scrub oaks and 
hickory trees, while on the west ran a stream of clear, pure 
water. He had brought his cooking utensils—frying-pans, 
skillets, pots, coffee-pots, &c., with him, and in avery short 
time we had our centre-pole put up, all our traps unloaded, 
while Dick, the sable cook, had the coffee (Java) made, and 
we sat down to as good a supper as was ever eaten, at least 
itrequired no trouble to clear the table of any remaining 
fragments. Wesat around the camp fire until late at night, 
smoking our meeérschaums, relating stories of former hunt- 
ing and fishing, and then rolled ourselves up in our blank- 
ets to sleep. To sleep? No, for the Major’s sonorous 
snore made it impossible for me to. sleep, so I lay awake un- 
tilnearly midnight, listening to the myriads of katydids in 
the trees, and the chirp of crickets in the long grass down 
by the creek; but finally I went into dreamland, and did 
not awaken until the sun was at least two hours high, when 
Dick called me up for breakfast. We had some fried 
grouse, which one of the party had shot that morning, and 
we all partook. 
We then went to work in earnest—six men and four dogs 
—and as the game was plenty, the dogs had no trouble in 
finding it, and wherever they pointed we were sure of chick- 
ens. Wemade it arule not to fire untilthey had got about 
thirty yards distant, when we seldom failed in bringing 
down the game. At noon we had succeeded in bagging 
forty among the whole party, nine being the largest num- 
ber shot by any one. We did not go out again until even- 
ing, when we brought in seventeen more. Supper, smoke, 
to bed, and the same snore of the Major’s; but I was so 
tired that I soon slept. Thus we passed the time for five 
days, killing all the chickens we needed, and occasionally 
On the afternoon of the 
fifth day we removed our camp near to the Kankakee river, 
but still on the same creek, and in a grove also, During 
the middle of the day we generally laid in the shade and 
read or smoked, and did not try to kill any game, except 
mornings and evenings, nor did we kill any and throw it 
away, as no true sportsman will do this ; but after the first 
day we killed only what we wanted to eat, and had chicken 
fried, roasted, or stewed every meal, varied occasionally, by 
a brace of roast ducks. Joe went to a farm house, about 
ten miles off, and brought back a lot of fine melons. 
Sunday, we read, smoked, and slept, and no one thought 
of taking his gun. We spent five days at this camp, then 
sung our ‘‘parting song,” took down our tent, loaded the 
wagon—not forgetting to take home a half-dozen chickens 
apiece—and were on our way to the station again, after hav- 
ing killed over 200 chickens, and having ten days of rest 
and recreation, with a hope and a promise to mect again at 
this place*next summer. 
September and the first two weeks in October are more 
pleasant for hunting than August, as the nights are cooler, 
although we did not experience any discomfort from the 
heat, as there was always a good breeze. 
Later in the season the game is generally a little scarcer 
and wilder, but there is always plenty of game. We met par- 
ties who had killed many more chickens than we had. I 
would advise any who go to do as we did, take tent and 
provisions, and you can hire a wagon and from team farm- 
| ers near any of the stations along the railroad west of Lo- 
gansport, and a wagon can go over any part of the prairie. 
There is good shooting along the railroad for miles on both 


