


the former combined, that made him shift his first proper, 
or, if you will, most beautiful position, only to resume it 
after a moment's trial of the other? All of this was done 
without a single “‘hecd” even; it was the young dog’s blood 
that told there, for during the evening he pointed three sin- 
gle birds. Inow take him out whenever I go. He has 
found several dead birds by pointing, for although a good 
retriever of anything inanimate he will yet only bring a 
dead bird when thrown from the hand. 
I have written the above on the spur of the moment, see- 
Ing accounts in your paper of the shooting of elk, moose, 
grouse, etc., but scarcely a word about our small game, and * 
dogs to hunt it. I hardly think the above is fit for your 
columns, still, with a sneaking hope that it is, here it goes. 
Respectfully yours, Grorce C. KE. 
—— © Be 
BLACK BASS FISHING INTHE MAUMEE. 
—_—__4—____. 

TONTOGANY, Ohio. 
Epiror FOREST AND STREAM :— . 
Twenty-three miles above Toledo, Ohio, are the rapids 
of the Maumee, here a river large enough for small steam- 
ers to ply in some seasons of the year. While sojourning 
at the little village of Tontogany, a railroad station on the 
D. and M. R. R., twenty-two miles above Toledo, I heard 
that fine sport could be had fishing for black bass in the 
river, and being a lover of that manly art I was not long in 
making one of a company of four. I had been reading 
Prime’s ‘I Go a Fishing,” until I was filled with a desire 
to show off to my friends how muchI had learned of the 
art Piscatorial. 
A tramp of two miles brought us to the river, quite a 
grand looking stream,and the autumn woods were gorgeous 
with their tints of gold and red leaves, while the wild grape 
vines hung in festoons and garlands from the over-hanging 
trees down to the very edge of the water: It was just such 
a place as would inspire a poet or a painter; but as 1 was 
neither I only smoked away at my pipe and enjoyed the 
soft autumnal air and caught some young frogs for bait, 
while John and George caught a lot of minnows, and Frank 
made a bargain with old Sam for a boat. 
At first we cast from the shore for rock bass, and soon 
were busy, as they bit well, and we caught some that 
weighed two pounds each, but they were not gamey enough, 
and we rowed out into the river, here about 500 feet wide, 
and cast our lines. Hardly had my minnow touched the 
water when a dash, a jerk and a pill, and then a slack line 
told me only too plainly that I had failed to hook my fish; 
but my next cast was better, for no sooner had my bait 
touched water than a snap, a jerk, then a whisting of my 
line, as the fish flew through the water, made me give it 
line and let it play, as it darted from side to side, then 
suddenly stoppéd to ‘ possum.’ the boys said, when I gen- 
tly hauled in on the line; but no sooner did he feel himself 
being drawn in than he made a dash, and again the water 
fairly foamed with his exertions to escape. I played him 
fora few minutes when I thought it time to see how he 
looked, and by gently hauling and slacking I landed a fine 
specimen of black bass that turned the scales at three and 
one-quarter pounds. I was elated at my success, but while 
I was hooking one fish John had killed two equally as large 
as mine. 
The sport was glorious, as bass were plenty and took the 
bait eagerly, seeming to prefer minnows to young frogs. 
The day was calm and beautiful, with a soft haze in the 
atmosphere, while in sheltered places along shore the 
leaves formed a carpet of bright hues on the water. Some- 
times with all our care in handling one would tear loose 
from the hook, but we caught enough, anyhow, and the 
few escaping only made the sport more exciting and served 
to make us “more cautious. At times we would all four 
have a fish on our hooks at once, then there was laughing 
and bantering as to who would land the largest fish. We 
fished until we were tired, then rowed to the island and 
- sat in the shade and ate our lunch which we had brought 
withus. Towards eveningywe again rowed out into the 
stream, cast our lines and caught a few, but the best time 
to fish is in the morning. 
Thave cast lines in many waters, have brought the 
speckled trout from among the rocks, and speared sturgeon 
on the upper lakes; but I never had as good “‘luck” or as 
fine sport as this day’s work on the Maumee. The way 
they bit would have delighted even as expert an angler as 
' the editor of Forest anp STREAM. 
A word as to fly fishing. Men who have had experience 
at fishing here say that in May and June it would do you 
good to see how black bass snap up a fly; but later in the 
season they find it almost impossible to get arise. I have 
never tried it, but would like to hear through these columns 
if any one has had success in fly fishing in August or Sep- 
tember. “ FREEM,” 
a 
TWO WEEK’S RANGE AT RANGELY. 
pu eg 
Octorner, 12, 1873. 
EviTor or Berest anp STREAM:— 
We wanted to goa fishing where we. would find plenty 
of fish, so we took your advice and went to the Rangely 
chain of lakes for a two week’s trip. Our route was by rail 
to Farmington, thence by stage to Phillips, and next 
morning once more to ‘‘Kimballs,” at the head of the lake. 
Fertune favored us and we secured the services of Charlie 
Soule for guide, cook and general head center, and a better 
guide no one could desire. Off we goby boat the length of 
the lake, nine miles, to the outlet, where we had the 
promise of good sport and large fish. Two Sheldrake 
ducks fell to our lot on the way. At an hour before sun- 
set we were there and soon our tent was pitched. Then 

FOREST AND STREAM. 
came the news of no luck that day; yet we would not be 
denied the pleasure of a few casts. . Once again fortune 
favored us, for after ten minutes of patient waiting a fine 
rise fell ts my lot, and in a dozen minutes more a fine 
trout of two and a half pounds lay panting in the net. 
Supper for ‘three was he, and none too much at that. No 
luck next morning, so off we go for the Rock and Cupsup- 
tue Lake, for says Charlie Soule, ‘If the fish aint here, 
we will go and find them, and that before night.” Sure 
enough, we did. Five miles up the Cupsuptue we landed 
at Birch Island in the midst of as fine a rain drizzle as ever 
you saw. Instead of pitching tent in the rain we took pos- 
session of a log camp, and after Stowing away our things 
and taking a bite and a sup, we made preparations for 
sport. ‘‘I guess they bave struck in to the mouth of the 
river by this time,” says Charlie; so off we go, and a half 
mile from camp, close by the mouth of the river and under 
the edge of the lilly pads, we prepare for glory or disap- 
pointment. A good fresh south wind was blowing, and 
rainy was the weather; just the day to kill trout say we. 
A half dozen casts—nothing. Half a dozen more and we 
are at work in earnest. Springing out of the water they 
came, two at a time, three at a time, dashing over each 
other in their eagerness to take our flies. We weze using 
“Scarlet Ibis” in the middle, ‘‘ Monireal” on the bottom 
and *‘jsrown Hackle” for top fiy, and grand service did 
they do on this and all succeeding days. Ten day’s fishing 
and only using up two Scarlet Ibis flies, is pretty tall work, 
and by actual count I took 127 trout on my first Ibis before 
was worn out. Sharp work we had till dusk, and then 
seventy-five beauties lay before us. Only a few as low as 
three quarters of a pound, some sixty or so between three- 
fourths and two and a half pounds, one of three pounds 
and two of four pounds each. 
There was glory enough, and says Charlie, ‘I told you 
so.” And not one was kiiled and wasted, for friends were 
coming the next day and they should huve them to take 
home; and this same Charlie made it his rule never to kill 
more than he could use. If guides were all of his stamp, 
there would be plenty of fish for us always. This was our 
first day’s work, and we could have repeated it day after 
day had we been so disposed. Scarcely twice did we fish 
in the same spot. We were moving all the time. To 
‘“‘ Toothacker Cove” we went the next day, and there we 
found them; up ‘‘ Cupsuptue river” the next day, and there 
they were above the falls the next, and so on and on, and 
always we struck them. Every fish not badly hooked was 
put back. It seemed very fine to put a two pound trout 
back in his native element, but when you take a four pounder, 
and hold him tenderly in your two hands, and gaze at his 
every spot, and feast your eyes on his beauty, and then 
place him gently over the side of the boat, and watch him 
Sail away, and say ‘‘bless you, old beauty, go, increase and 
multiply,” you will call to mind that it is one of those 
times that tries men’s souls. And whenagain your very next 
fish is another four pounder and you go through those very 
same proceedings, you will experience some very strange 
feelings around the region of the heart, and you will just 
lay your pole away, and say you think you won’t fish any 
more, and then wonder if anybody else is just such a great 
honorable fool as you are. That is what we did: and so we 
went. Too soon the time came for us to bid good bye to 
pleasure and go back to work. But a grand time we had, 
and never should we have had it but for our faith in the 
columns of the Forest and StrEAM. Much more could I 
tell you of the black ducks, sheldrake, pigeons, and par- 
tridges that fell to our lot, but I have said enough. Some 
other day I will tell you more. Truly yours, 
WELLSIE. 
oe 0 
CALLING MOOSE IN NEW BRUNSWICK. 
bale ee 
ILLIAM H. VENNING, Esq., whose experience in 
salmon fishing has been attested to in a most at- 
tractive article printed in one of the earlier numbers of 
Forest AND Stream, writes the following spirited sketch 
of a moose hunt on the Miramichi:— 
‘fhe moose can be ‘called’ only in the rutting season, 
which is earlier in New Brunswick than in Nova Scotia 
and other parts of the Dominion. In the latter places it is 
seldom that ‘calling’ is successful earlier than September, 
but in the former Province the latter part of August is not 
considered too early. We had commenced our ‘outing’ on 
the river in the last week in July—it was now near the end 
of August—and, though rather early for a good prospect of 
success, yet Abe, our guide, hoped that it was possible to 
entice some roaming bull to answer the simulated call of 
the cow, 
“The night was a bright moonlight one, and we soon 
reached the edge of the barren. Noting in which direction 
the current of air set, Abe posted Fred in a clump of bushes 
that gave him a full view of the barren plain before him, 
impressing upon him that on no account must he speak or 
move; then going to leeward of him a few rods, he as- 
cended a tree about twelve feet, and, using his “call,” iis- 
tened with eager ears for the slightest sound that might 
break the profound silence of the forest. This ‘call’ is a 
trumpet of birch bark about eighteen inches long—the 
small end an inch in diameter and the large end about four 
or five. With this simple instrument, long practice enables 
a good hunter to imitate the lowing of the cow moose so 
perfectly that the finest ear can scarcely distinguish between 
the real and simulated sound. For along time Abe re- 
peated his ‘calls’ at intervals, imitating the several peculi- 
arities of the female lowing, but no other sound broke the 
stillness, For more thanan hour had Fred impatiently 
waited, his eye sweeping the barren, and so still that he 



163 
was conscious of every pulsation. He began to grow tired 
of this dull work, and several times was.on the point of re - 
linquishing hope and leaving his ambush; but remember- 
ing the parting advice of Abe, he determined that his own 
impatience should not be chargeable with their want of 
success. This was a wise resolve on Fred’s part, for the 
practiced ear of Abe had detected a sound, and again the 
‘calls’ were repeated with all the skill at his command, At 
length an answering low, faint from the distance, reached 
the ear of Fred, and again his heart beat with suppressed 
excitement. Abe felt certain that his knowledge of the 
habits of the moose, male and female, would enable him 
to entice the bull within an easy shot, and, knowing Fred's 
certainty with the rifle, he had strong hopes of a successful 
issue to their hunt. We now changed his calls to a soft, 
low note; they were answered by a deep and resonant bel- 
low from the bull. Presently the sound of dry under- 
brush, breaking under a heavy tread, was heard to wind- 
ward of Fred’s position, and: indicated to him in what di- 
rection to look for the appearance of his expected visitor; 
after a few moments of intense anxiety, a large bull moose 
burst out of the thick woods that bordered the barren into 
open view in the bright moonlight. He paused, looked 
round, and gave a bellow; this was answered by a soft low 
from the tree beyond Fred, and the bull approached the 
spot ina direct line, so that he would have passed the 
bushes that concealed his foe. With rifle ready, Fred 
waited till the advancing animal was within forty yards of 
him, when, taking deliberate aim atthe breast, he fired. 
With a snort of fear and anguish, the huge bull tossed his 
antlered head and fell heavily to the earth. He immedi- 
ately rose to his feet, and made direct for the woods; this 
brought his side toward Fred, who instantly stepped from his 
crouching place, and before the wounded bull had made 
six paces the second barrel was discharged, and again he 
fell, this time headlong to the earth. A desperate struggle 
to regain his feet was made, but when half up he rolled 
heavily on his side, and afew spasmodic kicks ended the 
career of a splendid specimen of the largest of the deer 
tribe. 
“Abe had dropped from his roost on the first report, and 
was now by Fred’s side, congratulating him on his success. 
As all necessity for silence was now over, they were both 
hilarious over their trophy. Abe took out his sheath knife 
and cut the throat of the nearly dead animal. Leaving 
him where he lay till morning, they both returned to camp, 
quite delighted with their rare luck in ‘calling moose’ so 
early in the season. 
“A few minutes after reaching camp saw a cheerful fire, 
the kettle boiling, and our patient hunters prepared to en- 
joy a good meal after their long and tedious ambush. After 
talking over the incidents of this victory, and gaining much 
practical information from Abe’s descriptions of former 
hunts in which he had participated, either as caller or 
marksman, and sometimes as both, we all betook ourselves 
to sleep, well pleased. 
“In the morning, when we woke, the sun was high; the 
first things that met our eyes as we stepped from the tent 
were the antlers of the bull on one side and the skin stretched 
out to dry on the other. The men had risen with the sun, 
and leaving us to enjoy our morning nap, had gone to the 
barren, skinned the moose, removed the splendid antlers 
and the choice parts of the meat, had brought all to our 
rendezvous, and prepared breakfast before we had shaken 
off our drowsiness. 
‘We breakfasted off moose steak, with a roasted bone, 
full of delicious marrow, as gravy. The moose is never 
very fat, and generally the steak, though tender and of fine 
flavor, is apt, unless carefully broiled, to be rather dry; but 
the addition of the rich marrow of the shank bones makes 
a luscious dish, and we all enjoyed it hugely.” 


Epiror Forest anp StrREAM;— 
Were I alone responsible for the article in last week’s 
issue in regard to dredging, I should willingly let it go as it 
is, mistakes and all, confident that quite a-fair proportion 
of your readers would not detect the errors, and to those 
who did it would be a source of. self-congratulation that 
they wereable to. ButI fear that the Professor who kindly 
furnished me with a list of Latin names may not feel will- 
ing to haye them misapplied. Therefore I ask space to 
correct a few. 
First, either your proof reader or I mixed the clams. 
The ‘‘Quohog” and ‘‘Calista convexa’ are not the same. The 
Lophius Americanus has two common. English names, viz. : 
the “‘goosefish,” and the ‘“‘angler,” from its habits. I am 
made to say that ‘‘by the angler” it is called by its Latin 
name. Not by any angler that we met, I fancy. 
The pale, straw-colored starfish is the ctenediscus, not clene 
dicus. Other minor mistakes in the spelling of a few Latin 
words are evidently simply typographical errora, 
Yours, L. A. BEARDSLEE, 
See ete te ats 
SuAMMING Poverry.—An acquaintance of the writer of 
these pages, while he lodged in a certain town was alarmed 
by hearing in a neighboring house a sort of periodical pun- 
ishment going on daily, Heavy blows were given, and a 
person was continually crying out ‘‘Amaun! amaun ! 
(Mercy, mercy)—I have nothing! Heaven is my witness I 
have nothing!” Upon inquiry he learned that the sufferer 
was a merchant reputed to be very rich, who afterwards 
confessed to him that, having understood the governor of 
the place was determined to have a share in his wealth, and 
expecting to be put to the torture, he had resolved to hab- 
ituate himself to the endurance of pain in order to be 
able to resist the threatened demands. He had brought 
himself to bear one thousand strokes of the stick, and, as 
he was able to counterfeit exhaustion, he hoped to be able 
to bear as many blows as they would venture. to inflict, 
short of death, without conceding any of his money. 
Fraser's Persta, 


