we 




















































































































Terms, Five Dollars a Year. | 
Ten Cents a Copy. s 

NEW YORK, THURSDAY, OCT. 2, 1873. 

{ Volume I, Number 8, 
103 Fulton Street. 


For Forest and Stream. 
THE FASCINATION OF FISHING. 
——__ + 
OULD T lend tie fasvination 
That this solitude enshrines, 
Tn its rest and recreation, 
In the typographic mines, 
You would leave the pen and book 
And would sally with your hook 
To this bright, enchanting brook. 
Here to revel in these dines. 
Could you study from creation 
These grand books of nature's lore, 
As she crowns with rare ovation 
Hill and dell and meadland o’er, 
You would daily find some treasure— 
Daily find some hidden pleasure— 
That in an exhaustless measure 
Onward reaches evermore. 
You would leave the lab’ratory, 
Where such miracles are wrought; 
And the bears of modern story, 
That the bulls so well have fought- - 
You would with cqmplacent wishes 
Leave to speculative dishes 
While you feasted on the fishes 
That your lucky hand had caught, 
There’s a mighty charm in fishing, 
Though your cheek should change to dun, 
But much like the charm of wishing, 
*Tis in catching lurks the fun. 
One forgets the sumptuous dishes, 
As one does the crowned wishes, 
Hence, in fishing more than fishes 
Is the fascination won. 
SrpremsBeER 10th, 1873. 
Down the Potomac. 
ee 
NO. IL—THE MARYLANDER AND HIS 
CANOE. 
oe Pe AS 
OWER Maryland has never recovered from the dis- 
asters of the late civil war. This is in some mea- 
sure due to the people themselves, but in large part 
to the scarcity of labor. During the war the negroes 
in the counties bordering on the Potomac were swept into 
the army. When they did not leave their masters volun- 
tarily force, was used. Recruiting parties were sent into 
the interior by order of Major General Benjamin F. Butler, 
and the negroes were marched in gangs to Piney Point or 
Point Lookout, from whence they were shipped to Fortress 
Monroe. The ‘‘old families” were thus left in sad plight. 
Ladies who had never combed their own hair, or tied their 
own shoes, found themselves confronted by a formidable 
array of household duties. There were fires to be made 
and food prepared ere hunger could be satisfied. The men 
of the uousehold, who had never known more arduous toil 
than riding at a tournament, or chasing the fox ’cross coun- 
try, were left with large farms on their hands—the plough 
standing in the furrow, the yards and barns full of valu- 
able stock. Itis perhaps hardly to be wondered at that 
everything was allowed to go to ruin and devay; that fields 
were left untilled, fences unrepaired, and buildings un- 
painted. The transition from ease and affluence to com- 
parative poverty was so sudden that few have recovered 
from the shock. The wonder is, how so many manage to 
live at all on the wreck of their ante bellum grandeur. Few 
of the negroes ever returned to their former homes. They 
met their death in the crater before Petersburg, perished 
of disease, or live in vagabondage in distant States. 
The staple crops of this section are tobacco and wheat. 
All vegetables thrive, and peaches, pears, apples, nectar- 
ines, grapes, melons, and plums come to full perfection. 
The Washington and Baltimore markets are readily reached 
by steamers, which penetrate every nook and inlet; and 
yet, with all these advantages, there is very little prosperity 
among the white population. People live—and they can- 
Marta Ewa. 

~ not well help it, with an abundance of game, fish, and oys- 
ters at their disposal, but their dwellings grow more and 
more dilapidated every year, and their pockets emptier. It 
is hard to prescribe a remedy for this state of affairs. 
Skilled labor, thrift, and energy are potent in their way, 
but capital is needed as well to raise Lower Maryland from 
its slough of despond. 
St. George’s Island, mentioned in a former article, has a 
The men are engaged 
population of some forty families. 
in the fisheries and as pilots on the river. The island is 
some three miles in length, is nearly level, and is covered 
to a considerable extent by dense groves of pine. Fruit 
thrives here, but, save in one instance, no care is bestowed 
on its cultivation. The fishermen and pilots usually culti- 
vate a little garden patch, however, and sometimes a field 
of corn. You will see pigs running at large, but rarely a 
cow, and nevera horse. A canoe isto these islanders a 
horse and carriage combined. It takes the place of the 
volante of Havana and the gondola of Venice, and is more 
than either, for it is not only a conveyance, but a means of 
livelihood to its owner. 
During the fall and winter months the oyster trade fur- 
nishes employment to all who are able to handle the tongs, 
sail a canoe, or man a pungy. The canoes must be licensed, 
under the laws of Maryland, and have their number painted 
on the bow. They set sail in the morning for the oyster 
beds, and, having obtained a load, run alongside a pungy 
(a class of schooners in use on the Potomac and Chesapeake 
Bay) and dispose of them. The price paid is ten to fifteen 
cents a bushel, and the tong-men are said to make from 
four to six dollars per day. Indeed, a colored man told me 
he saved $200 out of his winter’s earnings, and it is usual, 
I believe, to lay by enough to keep a family in provisions 
during the summer months. When the oyster season is 
over the canoes are hauled up and painted, the garden 
patch planted, and then the canoes are launched again, and 
gill-nets and fish lines are brought into use. These furnish 
a somewhat precarious living, but the fishing parties which 
come down the river pay handsomely for the services of a 
man and a canoe, and I have known the sheepshead fisher- 
men to average from four to six dollars per week. For 
small fish, they received last summer six cents per pound. 
Another source of profitis catching crabs for market, but 
the crabs were so small and scarce this year in the vicinity 
of Piney Point that they were left to the tender mercies of 
the amateur fishermen. Let me here point outa mistake 
some make in cooking this shell fish. They should not be 
boiled like potatoes, but placed ina pot without water, 
with salt and pepper thrown over them, their own moisture 
being all that is required. They are still better when baked 
or roasted on a hot stove or in an oven. 
To say that fifty cents will go as far at these unfashion- 
able resorts down the Potomac asa five dollar bill at the 
fashionable watering places, is hardly an exaggeration. 
One morning, wishing to go fishing, I engaged two boys to 
catch soft crabs for bait. They explored the shore for 
some distance with poor success, having found but three 
or four. However, I was bent on trying the fish that 
morning, and so took what they had, telling them to 
catch more, if possible, and bring them to the store, when 
I would pay for all. Hn passant, I didn’t catch a fish that 
day. About dusk the boys putin an appearance at the 
store with soft crabs enough to complete a dozen, the result 
of a good half day’s work. Asking their price for the 
bait, I was astonished when they replied, ‘“Ten cents.” 
That was too absurd; so I said I can’t pay that, but if you 
will take twenty-five cents here it is. Hearing a part of the 
conversation only, Mr. Marshall, who was writing at his 
desk, turned and denounced the boys for asking the exhor- 
bitant price of twenty-five cents for a dozen bait crabs. 
The youngsters looked quite shamefaced for a moment, 
but stammered out that they had only asked ten cents. On 
another occasion I was beating up the St. George’s ina 
canoe against a strong head wind, when my companion’s hat 
blew overboard. As it was only a common straw—value, 
thirty cents—and we were a mile from home, and dinner 
nearly ready, we concluded to let it go. Soon after, how- 
ever, we met a canoe, with a young fellow at the paddle, 
bowling islandward and homeward with a fair wind. We 
hailed him, and told him if he would get the hat and bring 
it to the store we would give him ten cents. Without a 
moment’s hesitation he started after it. By the time he 
had secured it he had a good mile and a half to sail against 
half a gale of wind. But he restored the truant head-gear 
to its owner, and seemed well satisfied with the promised 
reward. It is sad to think that these unsophisticated na- 
tures must become contaminated in course of time. Even 
a solitary bloated bondholder would entail irreparable evil 
upon these peaceful havens of respectable impecuniosity— 
the unfashionable summer resorts down the Potomac. 
It is high time I gave a full, true, and particular descrip- 
tion of the canoe peculiar to the Maryland and Virginia 
waters. Without the canoe, summer life on the Potomac 
would be unendurable. This indispensable craft is a dug- 
out, but bears about the same relation to a dug-out of the 
South that a clipper ship does toa mud scow. The dug- 
out is made from a single log, the canve from two, three, 
four and upwards. The majority of those in use on the 
Maryland shore of the Potomac are made of two logs. No 
models or moulds are used in building them. The logs are 
squared and fastened together, and then shaped out by the 
eye. The canoe is made sharp at each end, but with finer 
lines at the stern than at the bow. When the outside is 
shaped the two halves are dug out separately, and afterward 
put together with hard wood trenails. The sides and bot- 
tom vary in thickness, in different canoes, from three to 
six inches. The keel, stem, and stern post are now put on, 
and the washboards and seats fitted. Whether intended 
for one sail or two, the foremast is always stepped in the 
extreme bow, and the mast-hole in the seat is made large 
enough to allow of considerable play fore and aft. When 
on the wind a wedge is put in before the mast to give it 
rake, but when before the wind the mast is raised and the 
wedge inserted behind it. The mast is just long enough to 
rest upon the seats inside the washboards when unshipped. 
A leg of mutton sail is used, rarely made to hoist, but at- 
tached to the mast by cord or canvas bands, and set with a 
sprit. When two sails are used the mainsail is rigged in 
precisely the same way, but is very much smaller than the 
foresail. If a jib is carried the bowsprit is made of a tough 
bit of oak, mortised to fit over the stem, and held in posi- 
tion by a peg ornail. No stay is used, the jib being at- 
tached to the bowsprit, and the halliards passing through 
an eye or small block strapped to the foremast. The jib 
sheets trim aft through holes in the knees that support the 
washboards. Some of the canoes have centre-boards, and 
others are without; some have rudders, and others are 
without. But whether a canoe has a rudder or not the 
great dependence is on the paddle—material, oak; regula- 
tion length, eight feet; in shape, a cross between an Indian 
paddle and an oar. The blade, gradually narrowing, ex- 
tends fully two-thirds the length, and its extreme width 
does not exceed that of the oar in ordinary use. Any one 
who has sailed a canoe with both the rudder and paddle 
will find that this kind of craft can only be successfully 
navigated with the latter implement. The canoe without 
a jib, and the majority do not carry that sail, has a ten- 
dency to keep in the wind, which the rudder is often pow- 
erless to counteract. But with a paddle over the side you 
can give a few quick strokes, or a succession of slow ones, 
which will keep the stern to windward and prevent leeway. 
Then, in going about, with a rudder the chances are that 
you will miss stays, and before you know it the canoe will 
be under stern way. With a paddle you have only to loose 
your hold and let her come up in the wind, and then, shift- 
ing the paddle by an easy motion of the wrist to the other 
side of the stern post, a few sharp strokes will cause your 
sails to fill, and away you go. Still, it requires muscle to 
handle the paddle when beating to windward, with half a 
gale blowing, and with the wind fair or free, provided the 
water is smooth, the rudder answers every purpose. But 
in rough water—and it is sometimes very rough on the Po- 
tomac, so rough, in fact, as to. compel good sized schooners 
to seek a harbor—the rudder is perfectly useless, as it is 
half the time in the air, while the paddle may always be 
