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41 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS 
 
 J 
 
'■""'-I I'V ■'■ -M A. .-(.XSTAIW.,- 
 
 IllR 
 
 '>'^Vn, DOUGLAS, E.,Nn,.K,.„. 
 
 ^5 •■..p.cs for Sal. „, ,1,.. I „„c,l s,n,.,s 
 
 -•5 0,|,i..s („r Sale i,, Oroai l;.,in„, 
 
 50 Co,,,., ,„,- ,,„.„^. ,,,,,,^,„,^,^_^^_ 
 
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1 WU.KJUT C'N I UK KIVi;k 
 H> Ukokci, Kkiii, K.S.A., cni;r-.i>oil b, AwA.v ,iii,l .--ua.n. 
 
/ 
 
 ISTIGOUCHE 
 
 WITH A CHAPTER ON ANGLING LITERATURE 
 Bv DEAN SAGE 
 
 i; 1) 1 .\ Ji r i{ (i ][ 
 
 DAVID DOUGLAS, CASTLE STREET 
 
 M DCCC LXXXVIII 
 

TO 
 
 MY FATHER 
 
 TO WHOM I OWE THE LEISURE WHK H 
 
 HAS ENABLED ME TO WRITE IT 
 
 I DEDICATE 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In order that any favour which tliis Volume may meet shall 
 be ascribed to its rightful sources, I wish to make this Preface 
 a vehicle for stating that to my friend David Douglas is due, 
 more than to any one else, its chief merits — viz., those of 
 illustration and publication. 
 
 Others, with myself, have furnished the materials. He, 
 with a personal interest and zeal far beyond any business 
 relations, has done the building; and I am sorry I cannot 
 express in a more tiian this semi-public way my thanks 
 for tiiis labour of love he has gone through on my behalf 
 
 To the artist contributors I have also to express my sin- 
 cere obligations, both for what they have done, and, in some 
 cases, for special acts of kindness in connection with tlieir work. 
 
 I would further say that since the text of this Book was 
 completed in 188G, some additions have been made to our 
 knowledge of the habits of the salmon, and certain facts 
 which then had the merit of newness luive now assumed the 
 respectability of age. 
 
 D. SAGE. 
 
 Aluany, N. Y., Decemhcr 188" 
 
■58^ 
 
 "W 
 
I 
 
 C () N T E N T S 
 
 CHAPTER I— THE HIVEK. 
 
 Geographical position — Scenery — Clearness of its waters — Pools — Itoiites 
 used before the Inter-Colonial Railway was opened- — Dan Eraser's 
 Hotel — River taken under protection of the Oovernment in 1870, 
 and leased to Mr. Sandford Fleniing and Mr. Bridges — The Risti- 
 gouche Salmon Club — Legal decision in favour of the riparian owners 
 — Houses put up by the Ristigouche Club — The owners and lessees — 
 Pools, and their distance apart — Arable land — Flats — Population — 
 The Mic-Mac Club — Matapedia Pool — Captain Sweny's fishing — Camp 
 Harmony fishing — Brandy Brook, thirteen salmon caught in IHH.'i by 
 two boys — Chain of Rocks— Hero's Rapid — Camp Albany — Wilniot's 
 fly — Cross Point — Indian House Poo! — Patapedia Pool — Patapedia 
 River reserved for breeding — Tracy's Brook — The Kctlgwick — An 
 attempt made to re-stock the Matapedia with the fry of the Risti- 
 gouche salmon, ....... 
 
 CHAPTER TI_CANOES AND INDIAN'S. 
 
 The art of canoe-ninking — Extract from Longfellow's " Hiawatha" — Adap- 
 tability of the canoe to river navigation — Poling— Fishing from canoe 
 — The Mic-Mae Indians —Their peculiarities and characteristics — 
 Larry Vicaire and his stories — Bilin' de kittle — " fjreen-corn " dinner 
 — Language — .Amiability — Innocent profanity — yVlexis .Nfarchand — 
 .lacques Vicaire— Indian's stories, Tchich-e-tel-e-get and Saumo- 
 blomo, etc. — Visit to the mission, St. Anne de Risti-ouche — Indian 
 houses — Joe \'icaire and his family — Father Guay— H'i church, 
 house, and studies in Mic-Mac, ..... 
 
 15 
 
tONTK.Vrs. 
 
 9 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER III-CAMP HARMOxNY. 
 
 Upsalquitch l'„ol-Site of house; din.enMons. interior arrangements, and 
 ont-l.ou«.s-Tents «s slei.,,ing-<.|,an,l,cr.s-Kc,l n.a.lc of sprnoe l,o„ghs 
 -rools-Ihe (a,,,,, Pool-Phenomenal clearness of the water in 
 IS86_Sahnon, their hannts, resting-places, an.l nmnbers-Osi.rev 
 and salmon. 
 
 41 
 
 CHAPTER n-THE SALMON 
 
 Knemies of the sahn.,„-.SheIdn.ke--KinKnsl,er-Marke.l salnu.n-White 
 jmrpoises prevent sahnon entering the Kistigonehe in I8«()-.SeaIs- 
 I)n(l-nets-John .\I,nvat-Ca,.ture of drifters-Miscarriage of justice 
 -Protecting the river fn„„ illegal fishing-Tide-«ay nets-School of 
 sa n.on in Itiver Charlo- Habits of sal„u,n-Mig,.,,tion from fresh to 
 salt water, different theories-Food of salmon-Rlind salmon, thei 
 eolo,n-and texture of skin-Breeding-house at Deeside-Destruct 
 of hsh by heavily-laden scows— Pcrley's report. 
 
 r 
 :ion 
 
 CHAPTER \-TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 The requisites for successf\d salmon-fishi„g-The rod ; Scribner's, Baillie's 
 and Forresfs-ltelative merits of Jointe.l and spliced rods-The reel' 
 An,erican and English-The line-Industry properly directed neces-' 
 sary-tapriciousness of saln,on-,Jac,,ues' dietun., '■ Sahnon bite 
 best -Fn-st experiences in the river on coming fron. the sea-A 
 arge sahnon con.es year after year behind the same rock i„ the 
 Lpsal.p,iteh Pool-Flies, different theories regarding-A n.orning at 
 Mowat s Pool with a " Sproat ■-How flies look from under water- 
 Changing of flies-Flat Rock Pool at I'abineau Falls-Ten salmon 
 under Matapedia Hridge-The " Jock Scott " a favourite in one case- 
 n..llyn,g fish on the (ialway River, and also o„ the Ristigouche, into 
 taung the bait -Disheartening experiences-Jacp.es' explanation 
 He do jes as he d,MU please '-Do sahnon sleep during the dav '-' 
 All afternoon's fislijiijr in |«s,'i 
 
('ONTMNTS, 
 
 XI 
 
 CHAPTER \'I— THE SALMON OF THE 
 MATAPEDIA HRIDGE. 
 
 A trip ten years ago — Glorious pool— Forty siilmon ciiught in one day — 
 Fish unilistiirbed luuler railway l)riilfre by passinjr trains — A farewell 
 look at the river, and an unexpected udventiirc — A sueocssful east 
 from a difficult position— Hooked— How to land him— A gallant (iglit 
 —Something will give way—Give the villain the fish— The noble 
 sportsman h.iuls in the line — Something docs give way — Salmon and 
 
 Cockney tourist silently drop down stream — Pursuit hopeless 
 
 Language inadecpiate, ....... 
 
 V'l 
 
 CHAPTER VII— HOURS FOR ANGLING. 
 
 Early rising— Experiences in Galway— The best hour to fish- Nature 
 from a sportsman's point of view— Animals that used to frequent 
 our Lakes— Scenery — Effect of summer tourists — F^xterniination of 
 animals and fish — Growing interest in angling — The moneyed young 
 man of the present day— Dress— Fishing eomi)arcd with shooting for 
 the novice- The benefits of a holiday in i\u- country— A Sunday 
 
 visitor — What may be done in a canoe and a six weeks' holiday 
 
 The great spring log drives— Men inin-ed to col<l. 
 
 1 ,'i;i 
 
 tT 
 
 CHAPTER VIII-THE W AUGAN ET INFRA. 
 
 June 1881 — Route by Waugan portage -St. John River- Violet's h<m,se 
 —Grand River— Disagreeable Journey— Arrangement of canoes for 
 towing— Slow progress— Antoine's mishaps— Kiglit at Waugan Brook 
 —Provisions run short— Entertained at Laferge's— Sea-trout caught 
 at the Devil's Half-acre— Habits of sea-trout— Night at Patapedia — 
 .\rrival at Camp Harmony— Evening meditation and eontintment— 
 Lie awake listening to the great salmon leaping from the water— 
 The first throw of the year— Hook large salmon— Escapes by 
 running down stream— Is afterwards caught in the estuary nets, 
 verifying statement that salmon return to the sea when b.idlv 
 pricked— Fish recaught -My day's sport, two salmon ,';> anil 'j;)l, 
 lbs. — Jacques' stories of Mackenzie's fly-fishing and Louis Michel in 
 
 ^^ 
 
XII 
 
 fONTKNTS. 
 
 chiirch-One clay's catcli (two rods), <) salmon averaging 24 lb. each ''"" 
 —Evening in cauii)— The great drive of logs— Salmon get used to 
 tliem— Salmon caught in Camp Poo' after dark— Departure— At the 
 Histigouchc Cluh, ... 
 
 CHAPTER IX-THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 Anticipations— Journey from Montreal to Mutapedia— Pass night at club 
 —Canoes to Camp Harmony in heavy rain— Comforts of my little 
 tent— Nocturnal sounds— Morning at the camp— Our cook— The first 
 rise— Unsuccessful days fishing— Large catch in estuary nets on 
 Sunday— How to broil salmon— Noise made by big salmon jumping 
 —A salmon rises at a small trout on hook— Walk through woods— 
 Chipmimks— Squirrels— VVoodchucks— Fish xMowafs Rock Pool- 
 Jacques" advice— Judge's Pool— 34-pounder caught— Commence- 
 ment of drive-Our big salmon of the Camp Pool-An adventure in 
 the same pool-^"The ghost" hooked, played, gaffed into canoe, 
 jumps into water, and is lost— Weight over 40 lbs. .>— Story from " New 
 Sporting Magazine " of an infuriated angler— Visit to Camp Albany- 
 Salt pork and twine i: the most improved appliances— See friend 
 catch salmon at Hero's Rapid— Hospitality of Camp Albany— Heavy 
 storm— Tide-way nets washed away— A farewell cnst— Salmon in 
 the Upsalquitch, 
 
 181 
 
 CHAPTER X-THE ADVENTURES OF 1886. 
 
 Ladies in camp- First morning's work-Fight with a game 23-pounder 
 on the L'psalquitch— Line under a stone, but land fish— Scows— 
 Their management— Ladies arrive— Salmon by the light of flambeaux 
 —Excitement of the Indians— A change occasionally from the standard 
 patterns of flies advisable— A settler's mode of fishing— Excursion to 
 the Little Falls of the L'psalquitch— Total catch for the season. 
 
 2)1 
 
 ( H\T>TER XI-ANGLING LPrERATURE. 
 
 231 
 
 4 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 1 
 
 10. 
 
 11. 
 
 12. 
 13. 
 
 U. 
 
 Ij. 
 16. 
 
 TWILIGHT ON THE RIVER. By George Reid, R.S.A. ; eiigriived by 
 Annan .ind Swan ..... Fiwitispiere. 
 
 ENGRAVED TITLE. Designed by George Reid, R.S.A. ; engraved by 
 Annan and Swan. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 Head-piece: 18th Century Spanish Ornament. Engraved by Geo. Aikman vii 
 
 Head-piece: 18th Century Spanish Ornament. Engraved by Geo. Aikman ix 
 
 Head-piece: 18th Century Spanish Ornament. Engraved by Geo. Aikman xiii 
 
 Tail-piece. By W. G. Burn-Murdoeli ; Engraved by ,\nnan and Swan . xvi 
 
 OiiXAMENT : " Jock Scott." Drawn and engraved by John Adam 2 
 
 Head-piece and Initial-letteii to Chapter I. Dr^signed by Hiirn- 
 Miirdocli ; engraved by A. S. Thomson . . . , ,'J 
 
 MAP OF THE RISTIGOUCHE. Drawn and hthographed by John 
 Bartholomew ........(> 
 
 INDIAN HOUSE POOL. Original etching by Stephen I'arrish . 12 
 
 Mic-Mac Wigwam. Original etching by Mrs. A. Lea Memtt .11. 
 
 Ornament : Feather from Blue Jay. Drawn and engraved on wood 
 by John Adam . . . . . Ifi 
 
 Head-piece and Initial-letter to Chapter II. By Burn-Murdoch ; 
 engraved by Annan and Swan . . . . .17 
 
 ALMOST L.VNDED. Original etching by C. A. Piatt . .18 
 
 BILIN' DE KITTLE. Drawn and etched by H. Sandham . 26 
 
 ALEXIS MARCIIAND. Etching by Mrs. A. Lea Merritt, after a 
 drawing by Miss Sage . . . . . . .32 
 
 -4 
 ■i 
 
XIV 
 
 II.LUSTHATIONS. 
 
 17. JACQLIvS \1CAIRE. EtthinR by Mrs. A. Lc« Merritt, after « dmwinK 
 
 by Mi.ss Sflffc .... 
 
 18. T.Mi.-i'iEtE : SpcariuK S"l>n..n. By Biim-.Miirdoch ; engraved by Annan 
 
 and Swan ... 
 
 I<). OiixAMENT. By Hum-Murdoch, engraved by Annan and Swan . 
 
 20. Ohnament: "Durliani RanRcr." Drawn and engraved on wood by 
 
 Jolni A<laui 
 
 21. llKxn-vnAv. an» I.n.ti,m.-i.etteu t> Chapteh III. By Bum-Murdoch; 
 
 engraved by Annan and Swan .... 
 
 2^'. MOUTH OF UI'SALQUITCH. Original etching by C. A. I'latt 
 
 2.}. OL H DKAWING ROOM. Etched by Geo. Aiknian . 
 
 21.. Tail-imE(e : Sahiion. Drawn .ind etched by Geo. S. Ferrier 
 
 2.-.. \'i(iXETTE : Osi)rey. Drawn and etched by H. Sandliam 
 
 2(). Oi.nament: Foatlier (Von. Jungle Cock. Drawn and engraved on 
 "ood by Joiui Adiini 
 
 27. Head-imece AM) Imtim.-i.etteh to CiiAi'TER IV. By Burn-Murdoch; 
 engraved by Annan and Swan .... 
 
 2H. UrSALQLlTCH I'OOL. Original etching by C. A. Piatt 
 
 2<). Diagram : Nepisseguit Salmon. From a sketcli by Miss Townsend 
 
 30. VioNETTE : Mowat's House. Original etching by Mrs. A. Lea Merritt 
 
 .■il. Tail-piece: " Expcctat dum dcfluat anmis." Engraved on wood by 
 John Adam 
 
 I'AOE 
 
 ;i() 
 
 S9 
 40 
 
 42 
 
 4a 
 
 44 
 46 
 
 53 
 
 54 
 
 57 
 62 
 68 
 
 82 
 
 84 
 
 32. Oii.nament: "Britannia." Drawn and engraved on wood i)y John Adam 86 
 
 33. HEAn-PiEfE AM) Initial-lettek to Ciiapteh \'. By Burn-Murdoch; 
 
 engraved by Annan and Swan ..... g; 
 
 34. THE FIRST CAST. Drawn and etched by H. Sandham . . go 
 ar^ to 42. Salmon Fliks: " Durham Ranger," " Jock Scott," "Turkey Wing," 
 
 "Silver Doctor," "Butcher," "Wilmot," "Fiery Brown," "Britannia." 
 Drawn and engraved by John Adam .... loo to 107 
 
 43. Jail piece: Canoe. Original etching by C. A. I'latt 
 
 119 
 
 
t 
 
 ILLUSTHA riONS. 
 
 44. Ornament : By Uiirn-Murduoh ; engraved by Annan and Swan 
 
 45, 
 
 l-AIIE 
 . I 'JO 
 
 4(i. 
 
 47. 
 
 48. 
 
 49. 
 
 50. 
 51. 
 
 OnN.\MENT : Feather from Golden Plicasant. Drawn and enp-aved on 
 wood by Jolni .Adam . , . .122 
 
 IIe.vd-i'iece and Initiai.-i.etteh to Ceiahtkr VI. By Biirn-NFurdoch ; 
 enj^ravi'd by (ieorfje Aikinun . . I2y 
 
 Tail-piece. Hy Bum-Murdoch ; engraved by Annan and Swnn . 
 
 . l.'W 
 
 Ornament ; Featlier from Snipe's Tail. Drawn and engraved on wood 
 by John Adam .134 
 
 Head-imece and Initial-letter to C'iiafteh \'II. By Um-n-Murdoch ; 
 engraved by Annan and Swan . . , . , .135 
 
 MOOSE AT THE POGAN. Drawn and etched by H. Sundhani 
 
 13U 
 
 53. 
 
 Tail-piece: Old Cooking-shanty. Original etching by Mrs. ;\. l.ea 
 
 Merritt . . . . 1 50 
 
 Ornament : Feathers from Woodcock. Drawn anil engraved on wood 
 by John Adam . . . , , . 15'.J 
 
 Head-pie(E and Initial-letter to Chapter VIII. By Burn-Murdoch; 
 engraved on wood by John Adam . . 15,'i 
 
 54. DEVIL'S HALF-ACRE. Etched by C. O. Murray 
 
 55. 
 
 158 
 
 ONE DAY'S CATCH. Drawn l)y J. Wycliffe Taylor, etched by 
 G. S. Ferrier . . Kio 
 
 5(). Tail-piece: Indian Wigwam. Original etching by Mrs. A. Lea Merritt 17!) 
 
 57. Ornament: Caveat Salmo. By Burn-Murdoch ; engraved by John Adam 180 
 
 58. Ornament. By Burn-Murdoch . .182 
 
 5.0. Head-piece and Initial-letter to Chapter IX. By Burn-Murdoch; 
 
 engraved by Annan and Swan . . .183 
 
 ()0. Vignette : Evening in Camp Harmony. By Burn-Murdoch ; engraved 
 
 by Annan and Swan . . . . 1 Hfi 
 
 (il. REACHING HOME. Drawn and etched by H. Sandham .198 
 
 Cr::. ANGLING AT TOAD BROOK. Etched by G. S. Ferrier . 20G 
 
XVI 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 63. Ornament : Feather from Snipe. Drawn and engraved hy John Adam 
 
 Gi. IlEAn-iME(K AM) I.NiTiAi.-i.KTTKn r» { iiAiTKii X. Hy Uiini- Murdoch ; 
 engraved by Annan and Swan ..... 
 
 ik,. TORCIILKiHT ON THK RIVKH. Drawn by H. Sandhum, engraved 
 by Ainian and Swan ..... 
 
 66. Oi.nament: Facsimile from a Codex of .Jnstinian in the Advocates' 
 
 Library, Edinburgh (rimi 1 t? 1 ). I'.ngraved by Annan and Swan, from 
 a plate in Dibdin's " Northern Tour " 
 
 67. On.NAMENT. By Hurn-Mnrdoeh .... 
 
 68. Head-i'iece and Initial-lettki. to CuAPTEn XI. Hy Hum-Murdoch ; 
 
 engraved by Annan and Swan 
 
 69. SALMON FISHING— 
 
 ■• In Rivers swift, your S;,l„K,n nrc Rre.^l store, ■■ .\I,any of them, and clivers oti.er fish 
 
 W here w,th vast nets, they often bring to shore. Which when well drest. l,t for A I'rmce's dish." 
 
 "Salmon Fishing from Seuerall Wayes of irntino, iiawkino and 
 KisriiNo, AcoiiDiNo TO THE ENCiMsn MANNER. Invented by Francis 
 Barlow. Etched by W: Hollar." Engraved in facsimile by Annan 
 and Swan .... o,,. 
 
 70. Tail-pie( E : English Ornament late 18th Century. Drawn and engraved 
 
 by John Adam 
 
 . "(J 
 
 71. Vignette: (a page adar.ted from " Walton and Cotton," 1676, Part il). 
 
 Drawn and etehcvi by George Aikman . . . 376 
 
 paoe 
 i.M2 
 
 3i;i 
 
 230 
 i232 
 
 23.'J 
 
C II A 1* 1 E li il 
 
 I count it la'ttcr pleasure tii licliiilil 
 
 The (itiddly ('oin|msse of tlif lofty Skyc, 
 And in tin- midst thereof, like burning K"'<'' 
 
 The Haniin^r chariot of the WoHd's jjreiit eye ; 
 'I'he Wiilry clouds that, in the Ayre nprold, 
 With sinidry kindes of (minted collours Hie ; 
 And fayre Aurora, lil'ting up her head. 
 And blushin^r rise from old Thitonus' bed. 
 
 'I'he lofty woods, the forests wide and lonff, 
 
 Adorned with leaves and branches fresh and frreene 
 In whose cool hours the birds with channtin^ soii^ 
 
 Do welcome with their (Jiiire the Sunnner's (iueene ; 
 The meadowes faire, where Flora's j{ifts anion^ 
 Are intemiixt the verdant grass between, 
 
 The Silver skaled fish that softly Swimme 
 Within the brookes and Cristall watry brinnne. 
 
 .1. I)., .SVc/c/.v i)f .liiuliiiu, Ki.'iO. 
 
 ■gn 
 
T 
 
 ,7 
 
 i 
 
 I' 
 I 
 
-I 
 
 side of tlie wonderful clearness of its waters and the diflercnt 
 forms they assume in tlieir rapid journey to the great (Julf of St. 
 Lawrent-e.-from tiie long Hat, where they move with a glassy 
 and tran(iuil smoothness, but a swiftness that has to be felt to 
 be recognised, to the pools, with their thousand little ripples 
 
i 
 
 ■■* «; ;*. 
 
 ^ 
 
ri"^ 
 
 r H E RIVER 
 
 HE llistigouclie Kiver, wliicli forms the 
 dividing line between the provinces of 
 Quebec and New Urunswick, is over 
 200 miles in length, with four large 
 trib'itaries, each more than GO miles 
 long. It flows in a generally north-east 
 direction, and broadens very gradually 
 near its mouth into the Hay of Chaleurs. 
 It is a noble stream, with no falls or rapids in its whole course 
 that a canoe cannot surmount. Its numerous windings and 
 abru])t turns, so favourable for forming good salmon pools, also 
 give a variety and choice of beautiful scenery which it is rare to 
 find on any river. There is no mile of the Uistigouchc above 
 Matapedia which has not some peculiar ciiarm of its own, out- 
 side of the wonderful clearness of its waters and the diflcrcnt 
 forms they assume in their rajjid journey to the great (iulf of Si. 
 Lawrence,— from the long Hat, where tiiey move with a glassy 
 and tranijuil smoothness, but a swiftness tliat has to be felt to 
 be recognised, to liie pools, with tiicir tliousand little rippks 
 
f 
 
 4 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 dancing in the siinligiit, the white-crested rapid with its waves 
 of might, and the swirling eddies rushing over tlie rock-strewn 
 bottom, wliere the great salmon rest on their upward way. Of 
 these ca])tivating interruptions to an uniform flow the llisti- 
 gouche has an umisual number, which account largely for its 
 excellence as an abiding-place for salmon. Indeed we wonder 
 why any of the fish which enter its mouth turn off into the 
 brown stream of the Matapedia, or the slender thread of the 
 Upsalquitch. 
 
 There are but few pools of the Ristigouche that can be fished 
 from the shore, the hardest, but withal the jjleasantest way of 
 angling. From the shore one can follow a pool down its 
 length with a certainty of covering every inch of it ; and if, 
 by a proper a})plication of skill and generalship, one kills a 
 fish, the fact that this has been done without even indirect 
 aid adds much to the angler's satisfaction. 
 
 ITntil the completion of the Inter-Colonial Railway, the 
 Ristigouche could only be reached by ascending the St. John 
 waters, crossing the W'augan ''ortage, and coming down the 
 \>'augan Creek, which flows into its head waters ; by road from 
 the French settlements on the (iulf coast in the direction of 
 Quebec ; or from Dalliousie, on the Ray of Chaleurs, by road, 
 a distance of near 80 miles. The last-named was the easiest 
 way, but still a long journey, made from Point du Cheiie by 
 the Ciulf I'ort steamers. 
 
 In those days a local magnate — Dan Fraser— kept a hotel 
 at JNIatapedia, l-l miles from the mouth of the ri\er, and claimed 
 and exercised a prescrij)tive right in the great Matapedia pool. 
 The river, after its protection was undertaken by the (iovern- 
 ment about 1870, was leased from Matapcdia to I'atapedia to 
 
4 
 
 THE RIVER. 6 
 
 Mr. Sandford Fleming, and from Patapedia up to Mr. Bridges ; 
 and any gentleman who undertook the journey there could be 
 sure of getting permission to fish, the head guardian being 
 instructed by the generous lessees to grant it upon application. 
 Before the expiration of these leases, and when the railway made 
 Matapedia easily accessible, a club of forty gentlemen was 
 formed in New York, which, under the name of the llistijrouche 
 Salmon Club, acquired possession from Fraser of his farm and 
 hotel, and a lease of the Matapedia pool, which yields steady 
 fishing all the season for six or eight rods. The club changed 
 the old tavern into a very comfortable house, and by tearing 
 down, adding on, and a thorough cleansing, altered the appear- 
 ance of the place from its ancient one of dirt and shiftlessness 
 to one of thrift and neatness. 
 
 Shortly after the expiration of the first leases, about 1880, a 
 case which had been for some time in the courts was decided, 
 and took from the Dominion Government the right it had 
 always exercised over the waters of the Provincial rivers and 
 gave it to the riparian owners. The decision rendered void 
 the leases of waters in front of lands owned by individuals, and 
 of these leases there were quite a number on the Bistigouche, 
 the river on the second leasing having been divided into 
 about a dozen sections. The lessees of those who had paid 
 for the first year's occupancy lost not only their fishing, but 
 in most cases their money, which the Government refused to 
 ])ay back. 
 
 Since the establishment of the rights of the riparian owners 
 to the water, the Bistigouche Club has accpiired a large portion 
 of the best fishing on the river, and has put up on the ui)per 
 waters several small houses for the temporary accommodatio.i 
 
6 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 of its members. There are also six or eight individual owners 
 of i)icces of water ; some of the settlers have refused to sell out 
 their fishing rights, preferring to rent them from year to year, 
 and the I'rovincial Covermnent still owns a good deal of land 
 along the river which it does not grant without excepting the 
 riparian riglit. 
 
 The Club excicises a bountiful hospitality towards all going 
 up the river, which is the more grateful as there is no hotel at 
 Matapedia, and it is gradually getting the substanti-u manage- 
 ment of the execution of the fishery regulations for the entire 
 length of the river and its tributaries. 
 
 There are half-a-dozen owners of land along the Ristigouche 
 who have built camps or lodges by their waters, which they 
 inhabit during the angling season. Of these, two are quite 
 imposing as well as comfortable buildings; Mr. iM 'Andrew's 
 at Hero's lla])id, and Captain Sweny's below the mouth of the 
 IJpsahpiitch. Camj) Albany, owned by Mr. Olcott and Mr. 
 J.ansing, is indeed .somewhat handicapped by its geographical 
 location at Toad IJrook ; but the wild and romantic beauty 
 of the site is an ample compensation for its unromantic 
 
 name. 
 
 The distances from Matapedia to the princij)al points, 
 lliough these do not represent half the pools, are as follows :— 
 
 Matnj)L'(liii to U])sali|iiiti'li, 
 
 r|)Siili|uit(li Id liraiuly Hrook, 
 
 Hiiiiiilv Hrook to Toail llrook, 
 
 'I'oad Hrook to ClicatcT's Hrook, . 
 
 Clioati'r's Hrook to ("hainbcrlaiii Shoals Hrook, 
 
 ('liaiiil)CTlain Shoals Hrook to GrindstoiK' Itrook, 
 
 Griiiilstone Hrook io 'l"\vo Hrooks, 
 
 Ml Mi!). 
 
 H 
 
 n 
 
i 
 
MAP OF A SECTION OF 
 
 COMPILED FROM O K F I C I A I. >l * ' - 
 
SECTION OF THE RIVER RISTIGOUCHE 
 
 fftitn Ho4iS9 
 
 TBartiic]oini'w: e.^a?. 
 
L 
 
THE III V EH. 
 
 Two llrooks lo lli'd Pine Hrook, . 
 Ui'd I'iiK' Hrook to Tom's Itrook, 
 Tom's Iti-ook to I'iiR' Islaiul, 
 I'inc Isliuul to Cross Point, . 
 Cross Point to Indian IIoiisu, 
 Lidiim House to Piitupi'dia, 
 Patapedia to White's Hrook, 
 White's Hrook to Hed Hank, 
 Hcd Hmik to Devil's Half Aere, . 
 Devil's Half Aere to Stillwater, . 
 Stillwater to Traeev's Hrook, 
 'J'raeev's Hrook to Down's (iuleli, 
 Down's (luleli to Upper Cross Point, . 
 l'|)|)er Cross Point to I'opple Heaeh Hrook, 
 Po|)])le Heaeh lirook to Soldier's Guleh, 
 Soldier's Guleii to Kedgwiek, 
 
 Of, 
 Ol 
 
 Hi 
 
 n 
 
 O.l 
 ~4 
 
 ■n 
 li 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 "A 
 
 The arable land near the Ristigouelie is Ihiiitcd in extent, 
 being composed of occasional small ' Hats,' originally formed 
 by changes in the bed of the stream. These give to the eye 
 a pleasant change from the general fcatnre of the grander 
 steeps which rise straight from the water's edge. 
 
 The flats, for a distance of Ave miles above Matapedia, are 
 usually cultivated by a hardy race of Scotch descent, of which 
 the men go into the logging camps in winter, and vary their 
 small farming operations with an occasional drift when the 
 salmon are running. 
 
 There is now on the river about as much population as 
 the soil will yield a very poor living for, and no form of 
 agriculture yet known will make the rocky spruce-clad hills 
 worth the cost of clearing them. 
 
 There are half a dozen, perhaps more, good pools on the 
 
8 
 
 riSIIING IN rA\Ai)IAN WATKUS. 
 
 < . 
 
 Hlstifjouclie below IMatii{)e(1iii. Several of tliem are owned by 
 an association called the Mic-Mac Club, which has lately built 
 a finc-lookinj^ house near the water. 
 
 The Matapedia pool begins a little above the junction of 
 the llistigouche and INIatapedia rivers, and extends a short 
 way below the bridge of the Inter-Colonial Railway. It is by 
 far the best pool in the river, combining in one sheet of water 
 every condition for the liappiness of salmcn and of the angler. 
 It is good in high water and in low, and hardly a salmon which 
 reaches its alternation of cool depths and rippling bars but 
 yields to these chnrms, and stops for a day or two on his 
 journey. Great numbers stay there all summer, and spawn 
 above and below ; and as the weather grows warmer, they 
 can be seen in companies lying on the sweet run of water 
 under the bridge, undisturbed by the thundering of the heavy 
 trains above their heads. 
 
 In the days of Fraser I have known of forty salmon being 
 taken from this pool in one day ; but there were twenty 
 anglers at work, and probably more fish lost than saved. 
 Tiiere are several good ])ools in the next six miles of the 
 river to the Cpsahiuitch. The Club owns all of much account 
 to CJrog Island, 3^ miles, where there is a fair piece of water, 
 the i)roperty of the widow Ullyutt, and under lease. Two 
 miles above, and reaching thence to the mouth of the ITjisal- 
 (luitch, is a good stretch, including part of the High Rock 
 pool, belonging to Captain Sweny, who also owns a consider- 
 able ])ortion of the New IJrunswick frontage above Camp 
 Harmony for 2h miles, including the stretch in front of Nelson's 
 house, the Judges pool, and what is known as the Boat 
 House pool, which is good in high water. 
 
 '■* 
 
 « 
 
f 
 
 i 
 
 THE III villi 
 
 
 
 Tlie Cainp Ilarnuniy Hshiiifr consists of the l'|)sal(iiiitcli 
 ])ool, formed by the jimetiou of that river and the Kistijroiu'hc, 
 three miles of water above on tlie Quebec side, and the nj)|)er 
 mile opposite the New Hrunswick side. The l'i)sal(|iiitch 
 pool is j)retty nearly worth all the rest of it ; as, like the 
 Matapedia, its combinations of deeps and shallows, eddies and 
 rapids, make it, on a smaller scale, an abidin^-|)Iace for fish 
 the whole season. A mile above is Nelson's Island, and 
 below that Nelson's Hock pool — a fair piece of water, at its 
 best when the river is moderately fnll. iVt the top of Nelson's 
 Island, a mile further, is a long Hat, at the upper end of which 
 is Mowat's Kock pool. This is an excellent piece of fishing, and 
 salmon are always to be found in some part of it, until the water 
 gets low in the smoothly-flowing portion, extending from a great 
 rock projecting into the river a short distance above the head of 
 the Island to the rippling stream below INIowat's Uock. As 
 the river diminishes in volume the fish seek the deep and rapid 
 flow at the rock itself, which forms an ideal salmon pool. 
 
 There are always, however, some to be seen lying near the 
 mouth of a little brook above the lower rock in three feet or 
 less of water ; but with that depth, and the oily smoothness of 
 the surface, it is very hard to get a rise out of them. Thirty 
 rods above ISIowat's Rock begins the last pool of the Camp 
 Harmony waters, and a good one it is. It has been called 
 IMowat's pool from being in front of JMowat's house, and is a 
 long smooth stretch like the one below it, ending in a rapid, 
 just at the head of which salmon lie at low water. There is 
 about half-a-mile of it, and it furnishes good fishing for two 
 rods. Two and three-quarter miles above are the two pools 
 of the Brandy Brook water, owned by Dr. INIason and Mr. 
 
 a 
 
 ■immm 
 
10 
 
 I'lSIMNG IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 '£1 
 
 Feariiiff. wlio liave a house there, nestled under a great 
 mountain at a beautiful turn of the river, and with an icy 
 brook lea|)iug alonj^side. The pool in front of the house, 
 tlioufi[h not the better of the two, is a lovely bit of water, 
 and with its fellow yields great s|)ort at limes. 
 
 In 1H83 Dr. Mason gave permission to Captain Sweny's 
 son and mine, lads of fifteen and sixteen, to go up there and 
 fish for a couple of days. They had been a siiort time witli 
 us, and had each killed a few salmon. 
 
 Thf" started ott' in great glee at the idea of having some 
 water all to themselves, instead of such as their elders chose to 
 leave them, and the second morning after their departure 
 reappeared at Camp Harmony the happiest boys in the Pro- 
 vinces. They brought with them thirteen salmon, averaging 
 just *i(» lbs. each, three of them weighing 81. V, 35, and 37 lbs. 
 They had hooked and lost about as many more, and re])orted 
 lots of fish left. 
 
 As soon as the news reached the club two of the gentlemen 
 started for Brandy Hrook, but got there too late ; the fish had 
 moved on or wouldn't rise. 
 
 From Brandy Brook up there is a good portion of the 
 river which has never been fished enough to ascertain de- 
 finitely its capacities. At Chain of Rocks, a mile and a half 
 above, t!ie river has forced its May for lialf-a-mile through 
 a granite wall, flowing in numerous channels, separated by 
 the still unsubdued masses of stone, around which the tur- 
 bulent streams seethe and hiss in impotent fury. 
 
 These rocks are worn by the water and ice into many 
 strange sbapes, and one wonders how the river ever found its 
 way through them. There is a beautiful and good ])0()1 at the 
 
 1^ 
 
im 
 
 rm; hiveu. 
 
 11 
 
 foot of Cliaiii of Itoc'ks, iiiul about a mile above you reach 
 Hero's Ua])i(l, wliicli is. I think, tlie lieaviest on the river, 
 .lust in the middle the foaming waves run Hve or six feet liigh, 
 and make a bit of datigerous navigatioti to tlie canoes which 
 do not choose tlie less tmbulent currents at cither side. This 
 ra|)id is owned, one side each, by Mr. M'Andrew, who has 
 built a fine house on the New Brunswick shore at the upper 
 end, and the occupants of Camp Albany, a mile further, Messrs. 
 Lansing and Olcott. It gives very good fishing; and a few 
 years since Mr. John Wilmot killed there in one afternoon ten 
 salmon, the smallest above 20 lbs., as I now recollect, aii ' I he 
 large:! 42 lbs., average near 30 lbs. 
 
 These were all taken on a single gut casting-line, and ith 
 one fly tied for the occasion by the angler, and every fish hooked 
 was killed. 
 
 The pattern of this fiy has been perpetuated, and it is now 
 knoAvn as the ' ^Vilmot.' 
 
 A long curve ni the river brings you to Camp Albany, 
 perched high up on the side of a precipice, with a good pool 
 in front. This is known by the name of Toad Brook. T5ie 
 owners have also a ijood piece of water a short distance above. 
 The next nine miles contain a number of pools, and probably 
 as many more whose capacities await development — Cheater's 
 Brook, Chamberlain's Shoals, Grindstone Brook, Two Brooks, 
 Red Pine Mountain, and others. Tom's Brook, the upper 
 one a heavy piece of water, is the best known, and a capital 
 pool. Pine Island, a long, smoothly - moving stretch, a mile 
 and a half further, is also excellent ; and an hour's poling from 
 there brings you to Cross Point, one of the most beautiful 
 places on the river, and which disputes with Indian House and 
 
n 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 Patapedia the claim of being the best pool on the upper waters. 
 It is long and deep, full of dancing ripples and curious little 
 eddies, and holds fish early and late. It is owned by Mr. 
 Sandford Fleming of Ottawa, but fished by the club under an 
 arrangement with him. 
 
 There are several good little pools in the 2^ miles between 
 here and Indian House. This famous pool is much smaller 
 than Cross Point, and a portion of it very much deeper than 
 one v/ould suppose salmon would take the fly in — but this is 
 an exception ; and for ease of fishing, the quantity and size 
 of fish, it is unsurpassed by any piece of water of its length 
 on the river. Messrs. Samuel and John \¥ilmot have one 
 half of it along with their waters above and below, and the 
 other half is held by the club. 
 
 Patapedia pool, three miles further on, is at the junction of 
 the main river and the Patapedia, which is one of its largest 
 tributaries, and is reserved for a breeding river. 
 
 The club has half of this pool, indisputably the second 
 best one of the Ristigouche, and twenty miles of the Pata- 
 pedia River. This unfished and almost unexplored stream is 
 a perfect paradise for salmon, all of those gaining it being 
 comparatively out of harm's way. I have never been up there, 
 but learn from those who have, that the pools in July and 
 later are swarming with salmon, all of them large. They are 
 to be seen in r^chools, sometimes in water so shallow that when 
 moving their back fins will show above the surface. Long may 
 it be ere the drifter and spearer, or even the angler, invade 
 this haven of rest for the poor fish, which everywhere else 
 in their travels are subjected to such relentless persecution I 
 Bears, moose, and caribou also abound along the Patapedia, 
 
 i 
 
usmjka 
 
 f 
 
 iMiiAN noi'si-; i'"u\. 
 
 l-'.tchillg I)) SlI.I'IIKS l'\KUIsll, 
 
 ■■ 
 
 i 
 

 \ 
 

 ':^/ 
 
 
 
 
 BH 
 
 ■M 
 
THE RIVER. 
 
 13 
 
 where the hunter seldom penetrates. Red Bank and Devil's 
 Half Acre are both inside of eight miles above Patapedia, and 
 smaller pools, though perhaps for their size quite as good. The 
 arrangement of the cliffs above the latter, whence its name, is 
 peculiarly wild and savage. 
 
 Tracy's Brook, a considerable stream about four miles 
 further on, forms, at its junction with the Kistigouclie, a 
 won(l jrful resort for sea-trout, and the fishing there in August 
 and September is simply wonderful. Four and five pounds are 
 not at all an uncommon weight, and I have heard of two, of 
 6 and 7 J lbs. respectively, being taken at once on an 8 oz. rod. 
 
 It is a little over eight miles from there to the last pool 
 of importance, and one of the best on the river, the Kedgwick. 
 There the river splits in two divisions of about equal size, of 
 which the Kedgwick is one. The pool is owned by Mr. 
 Rogers and Mr. Drummond, but the club uses it part of 
 the season. The great majority of the salmon which ascend 
 above this point take the Kedgwick, and this stream has to 
 be carefully watched to prevent the inroads of drifters from 
 the upper St. John waters. There are a great many other 
 excelleni, known pools above Cross Point, and in fact below it, 
 which I have not specified, and I think numerous other resting- 
 places for fish that have not yet been discovered at all. The 
 largo pools yield such abundance of sport for the comparatively 
 small number of anglers who go to the upper waters that 
 they have not taken the trouble to develop new ones. The 
 small fish, those under about 20 lbs., seem to remain in the 
 lower stretches of the river; and the average weight of tliose 
 from, say Tom's Brook, upward, would be several pounds more 
 than that of those taken below. Large salmon, of course, 
 
 JL 
 
14 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 I> - 
 
 remain in the river and spawn all the way down to tide water ; 
 but tiie small Kistigouche salmon seem nearly all to stay in the 
 lower part of the river, and very few of the Upsalqiiitch fish, 
 which average in the neighbourhood of eight pounds, are 
 found above the mouth of that stream, which they ascend in 
 July. AVhile they are running a good many are taken in the 
 Ristigouche, and give excellent sport for their size, being small- 
 headed, short, thick fish, very strong and active. The JNIata- 
 pedia fish — which are longer than those of the main river, as 
 the Kistigouche is called, and of a different shape — have un- 
 fortunately decreased very much in numbers for the past few 
 years. The efforts which have been made to re-stock that 
 river with fry of the Ristigouche salmon have thus far proved 
 unsuccessful, and it is the opinion of John INIowat, who has had 
 charge of the business, that the natives of the Ristigouche will 
 not thrive in the brown waters of the Matapedia. 
 
 V"- 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 lie iiuikes liis way with s|)et'cl and eiisc 
 
 Tlirougli woods that sliow the iiooiiilay star, 
 
 Tlie moss-grown trunks of ohlest trees 
 His lettered guide-books are. 
 
 Needs he a fire? Tlie kindling spark 
 
 He bids the chafed wood reveal. 
 Lacks he a boat.'' Of birclien bark 
 
 TTo frnn»p*i n li(rlifw#»i»i" I/*. ..I 
 
 
'!' 
 
 14 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 . / 
 
 remain in the river and spawn all the way down to tide water; 
 but the small Kistifrouche salmon seem nearly all to stay in the 
 lower part of the river, and very few of the Upsalquitch fish, 
 which average in the neighbourhood of eight pounds, are 
 foimd above the mouth of that stream, which they ascend in 
 July. AVhile they are running a good many are taken in the 
 llistigouche, and give excellent sport for their size, being small- 
 headed, short, thick fish, very strong and active. The Mata- 
 pedia fish— which are longer than those of the main river, as 
 the llistigouche is called, and of a different shape— have un- 
 fortunately decreased very much in numbers for the past few 
 years. The efforts which have been made to re-stock that 
 river with fry of the llistigouche salmon have thus far proved 
 unsuccessful, and it is the opinion of John Mowat, who has had 
 charge of the business, that the natives of the llistigouche will 
 not thrive in the brown waters of the ]\Iatapedia. 
 
 MICMAl WUiWAM 
 Kldiing by Mrs. A. I.KA Mkkkiit. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 He mukcs liis wiiy with spewl and uase 
 
 Through woods tliat sliow tlio noonday star, 
 
 The moss-grown trunks of oldest trees 
 His lettered guide-books are. 
 
 Needs lie a fire ? The kindling spark 
 
 He bids the eliafed wood reveal. 
 Laeks he a boat.'' Of bireiien i)ark 
 
 He frames a ligiit.souie keel. 
 
 Eiimi Tiio.M.\s. 
 
 4 
 
a 
 
neither the memory of man nor tradition gives a iiint of the 
 time when the canoe was not as it now is. Ages ago the 
 first one came perf ••'.'; from the hands of its maker, and its 
 evolution stopped long before the white man set his foot on 
 the shores of the new world. 
 
 Not a single product of civilisation is required by the 
 
 c 
 
 \*t 
 
 ^Bl 
 
 ^^a 
 
-:> 
 
 I 
 
1 
 
 CANOES AND INDIANS 
 
 HE bark canoe is of all things tliat 
 float the most graceful and picturesque. 
 It is the embodiment of the mys- 
 terious spirit of the forest, the emblem 
 of the lonely wood-encircled lakes and 
 the wild crystal rivers they feed. The 
 art of canoe-making the Indians con- 
 sider a gift to them from God, and believe the first canoe 
 ever made was of the exact model now used. There are 
 slight variations in the canoes of different tribes, necessary 
 for adaptation to the streams and luKes on which they 
 are used, but the substantial elements of all are alike, and 
 neither the memory of man nor tradition gives a hint of the 
 time wlien the canoe was not as it now is. Ages ago the 
 first one came perfect from the hands of its maker, and its 
 evolution stopped long before the white man set his foot on 
 the shores of the new world. 
 
 Not a single product of civilisation is required by the 
 
 c 
 
 i^H 
 
Mini 
 
 18 
 
 riSHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 Indian canoe-builder. Tlie birch yields the covering, the 
 cedar the ribs, the roots of the tamarack or hemlock the 
 cohesive forces, and with the resin of the pine or spruce for 
 ti'e caulking, and the juniper— that toughest of wood— for the 
 bais, comprise all the materials for that creation of lightness, 
 beauty, fragility, and endurance, v»'hich greets the eager water 
 with a kiss light as thistledown, and floats airily, without a 
 ripple, on its course, as if afraid its weight would vex the 
 friendly river. 
 
 I hope I may be excused from quoting here entire the 
 description of the canoe froin Himcathu, as accurate as it 
 is beautiful — 
 
 Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree ! 
 Lay aside your wliite-skin wrapper, 
 For the Summer-time is comiiiir, 
 And the sun is warm in heaven. 
 And you need no wliite-skin wrapper. 
 
 CJive me of you: boughs, () Cedar ! 
 Of your strong and j)liant branches, 
 My canoe to n>ake more steady. 
 Make more strong and firm beneath me ! 
 
 Give me of your roots, () Tanmraek ! 
 Of your fil)rous roots, O Larch-Tree ! 
 My canoe to bind togetlier, 
 So to bind the ends togetlier. 
 That the water may not enter, 
 That the river may not wet me ! 
 
 liive me of your balm, O Fir-Tree I 
 Of your balsam and your resin, 
 So to close the seams together 
 That the river may not enter. 
 That the river may not wet me. 
 
^ 
 
 M.Musr I.ANiil-.li 
 (iriKiiial lilcliiiiR liy i , A. I'l.Ml. 
 
 
Hi 
 
 wmm 
 

 JA 
 
_ 
 
CANOES AND INDIA'S. 
 
 Give me of your qui'ls, O Hedgehog ! 
 All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog ! 
 I will make a necklace of them, 
 Make a girdle fc r my beauty, 
 And two stars to deck her bosom ! 
 
 19 
 
 Thus the birch-canoe was builded 
 In the valley, by the river. 
 In the bosom of the forest ; 
 And the forest's life was in it, 
 All its mystery and its magic, 
 All the lightness of the birch-tree. 
 All the toughness of the cedar, 
 All the larch's supple sirews ; 
 And it floated on the river 
 Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 
 Like a yellow water-lily. 
 
 These wonderful structures— for it is aii insult to call them 
 boats — one of the few remaining links that connect us 
 directly with tiie early races of this continent — have not been 
 matched by civilised man in their adaptability for their various 
 uses in ascending or descending rapid streams, portaging or 
 capacity, any more than for grace or beauty. The ISIic-IMac 
 canoe is usually from eighteen to twenty-two feet long, rather 
 lower at the ends, and of greater beam, than the canoe of the 
 lakes. It is very steady and staimch, and is equally suitable 
 for poUng up the heavy rapids of the rivers or cruising the 
 turbulent waters of the Hay of Chaleurs. 
 
 Watch a canoe being pushed up-stream, and you wonder 
 at the ease with which it seems to surmount— not cut 
 through— the foaming waters, which glide away beneath its 
 smooth and rounded bottom as if unwilling to exert their 
 forces against such a friend ; and, looking behind, it is hard 
 
so 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 to realise that the strong rough currents have been over- 
 come so quietly. 
 
 The management, of course, has much to do with it, as 
 can easily be proved by trying to pole one. The poling 
 is commonly done by two Indians standing in the bow and 
 stern, and using poles made from spruce saplings, which grow 
 of exactly the right size, and only need to have the bark 
 removed, knots smoothed down, and be furnished with sharp 
 iron sockets. It is a very difficult accomplishment to pole a 
 canoe at all, and still more difficult to do it well. There is a 
 certain kind of swing that has to be learned in order to make 
 the pole leave and enter the water correctly, and the centre of 
 gravity must be maintained on the very small base afforded 
 by the narrow end of the canoe so exactly, that the frequent 
 slipping of the pole from the round stones at the bottom 
 shall not affect it, nor the unexpected twists and dodges of 
 the light bark as it encounters some sudden turn in the 
 current or puff of wind. The skilful poler meets all these 
 emergencies successfully as if by instinct, and without ap- 
 parent effort. He never loses his balance, never seems in a 
 hurry, and always works in perfect unison with his mate- 
 apparently without seeing him— the poles of both striking 
 the bottom at the same instant, and moving like parallel 
 rulers when in and out of tlie water. It is the most 
 attractive and expert form of navigation I know of, and 
 seems, at first sight, one of the easiest. 
 
 For fishing, the canoe is perfect ; the low ends never inter- 
 fere with casting, and on its rounded curves (there are no sharp 
 ones) the Une does not foul; it is very steady, can be held 
 with a light anchor, and can be stopped, started, turned, or 
 
 
 

 1 
 
 CANOES AND INDIANS. 
 
 21 
 
 held in quick water, by the poles, with the greatest 
 
 ease. 
 
 In fishing a salmon pool the canoe is anchored at the top, 
 and dropped down a length or two after each cast is gone over. 
 The anchor rope is managed by the man in the stern, and has 
 sometimes attached to the end of it, in the canoe, a small cedar 
 buoy which is thrown overboard when a fisli is hooked, instead 
 of raising the anchor. This enables the canoe to get under 
 way sooner, and also indicates exactly the spot to return to 
 —a very important thing sometimes in the long even flowing 
 pools where small differences in location are hard to be dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 As soon as a fish is hooked the anchor is pulled in, or the 
 buoy thrown over, by the Indian at the stern— the salmon gener- 
 ally hesitating a little before making his first rush— and the canoe 
 paddled down as the fish goes until the angler can get ashore, 
 when such is his purpose. Sometimes in a broad part of tlie 
 river the fish crosses and runs up stream before a landing can 
 be made, and then the poles have to be used to follow him 
 until he changes his course to a downward one. 
 
 For all this kind of work the bark canoe is unecpialled ; 
 and long may it be ere its beautiful and harmonious colours 
 cease to be reflected in the translucent waters of the Ris- 
 tigouche, to ascend its impetuous rapids, and glide with quiet 
 swiftness down its hurrying stream ! 
 
 The Mic-Mac Indians are not, as was once said might be 
 implied from the name, a cross between the Irisli and Scotch, 
 but the remnant of a former powerful t-ibe, whose domains 
 extended for hundreds of miles along the coast of the Gulf 
 of St. Lawrence. 
 
FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 The most considerable number of these now live at the 
 Mission of St. Anne de Ristigouche, opposite Campbellton at 
 the mouth of the river. Their numbers are somewhere between 
 three and four hundred, and are gradually decreasing. 
 
 The white settler on the Ristigouche and its tributaries 
 ' drifts ' ' for salmon with great persistence and success. He has 
 the moral support of the community, and, if not abetted by 
 the guardians, suffers little annoyance at their hands. One 
 night's work may yield him in fish, which he can readily dis- 
 pose of for cash, n\ore than half his season's farming ; and if he 
 has sold or leased his water to a stranger, there is additional 
 piquancy in the harmless law-breaking. He is, however, 
 dreadfully shocked at the idea of an Indian taking a salmon 
 by spearing. Until about fifteen years since the JNIic-Macs 
 at the. Mission depended for a large part of their subsistence 
 on the salmon, Avhich they got entirely with the spear; and 
 when they were suddenly prohibited from exercising this im- 
 memorial right, they felt it to be the worst l)low that the 
 dominant race had ever inflicted. The poor creatures could 
 not at first believe that the river was no longer theirs to fish, 
 and that after a certain day it would be a crime to take their 
 food from the waters which had always been free to them. 
 After a few sad experiences from their violation of what they 
 could not but consider a most unjust and cruel law, thev 
 submitted, and addressed themselves to the impossible task 
 of extorting a living from the sterile farms they have at the 
 IVIission. Under the influences of whisky, natural improvi- 
 dence, and the deprivation of their chief means of support, 
 their extinction seems a matter of not a very long time. They 
 
 ' Drifting is fully described in Chapter IV. 
 
CANOES AND INDIANS. 
 
 SS 
 
 have, liowever, many desirable and very many attractive qualities 
 to those who take the time and trouble to find them out. 
 
 Although lazy, and generally worthless at any regular 
 labour, they are indefatigable in avocations containing 
 an element of sport. They will help you fish all day in a 
 driving rain, wet to the skhi ; lie out unsheltered through cold 
 stormy nights; and do prodigious amounts of poling and 
 paddling, not only without a murmur, but with enthusiasm, 
 if it is all in pursuit of fish or game. Half-a-dozen of these 
 same men in a comfortable camp, with plenty to eat, would 
 grumble over every minute's work they were driven to do, 
 and show an amount of persistent idleness and shirking almost 
 
 incredible. 
 
 I have found them in every case in my experience per- 
 fectly lionest and trustworthy ; and although they have always 
 had the freest sweep at my money, fishing tackle, and the 
 thousand articles a careless man leaves lying loose about 
 camp, I have yet to know of the first thing being taken - 
 although, in their extreme poverty, the temptation of little 
 articles must be great, and the least trifics given them are 
 accepted with delight. 
 
 They have a most charming disrespect of persons or 
 personages, and I am sure would accord no greater measure 
 of deference to Queen Victoria, should she take a scow u]) 
 to the Kedg\vick, than they would to the Governor-Genenl, 
 the Princess Louise, to John Smith, or any other individaal, 
 however humble. It is said that old Larry \'ici'ire, now 
 departed, who was in the canoe of the Princess Louise when 
 she was on the Ristigouciie, was annoyed by her persistence 
 in standing up to cast, contrary to the wishes of her husband. 
 
24 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 After vainly expostulating with her, the next time she arose 
 Larry placed his hands on the royal shoulders, and forced their 
 owner into a sitting position, with some allusion to the wishes 
 of the ' ole man '—i.e. the Governor-General— on the subject. 
 
 On the same trip the Princess showed Larry a portrait 
 of himself, for which he had been impatiently sitting to her, 
 and asked his opinion of it. Larry looked at it for a moment 
 indifferently, and said, 'Humph, dam ugly!' and walked off. 
 This Larry was a noted story-teller among his compatriots, 
 and his reputation as a humourist was such, that anything he 
 told— and I fancy all of his stories were subject to repetition 
 — was invariably hailed by his audience with shouts of 
 laughter. We used to hear the Indians roaring and shouting 
 in the wigwam, and on going out to find the cause, would be 
 told that it was Larry's stories. After long trying, we in- 
 duced the old man one evening to repeat a couple of them, 
 and here they are : — 
 
 'From dis landin', 'bout tree, may be four mile, I s'pose 
 dere 's a loggin' road. 'Bout nine year ago, in de fall, I was 
 goi down dat road with iVrchy Lodge, when we see big 
 pine log lyin' right cross de road. Archy he say, " S'pose we 
 have chop dat log to get team by." I say, "Yes, s'pose"; 
 an' Archy he get off an' go to git de axe. Den dat tree he 
 move right out de road, an' go trough de bush like de 
 devil, an' break down maple sajjlin's big 's my arm. So 'twas 
 a big snake.' 
 
 This being received with the proper applause, Larry was 
 induced to recoujit the following personal experience, which 
 we judge was as well known as it was i.iteresthig to the 
 Indians : — 
 
CANOES AND INDIANS. 
 
 U 
 
 • One day las' year, alter the gentlemen went away, I 
 tought I go up Apsequish (Upsalquitcli) ; so I got up fur as 
 here, an' stop to bile de kittle. ^Vhen I was niakin' firo, I 
 foun' an' ole rusty knife; so I pick it up an' look at it, an' 
 I see it was fus'-rate knife. So atter I eat my grub I hunt 
 aroun', an' tin' turkey-stone ' ; den I go to work an' I sharpen 
 dat knife, an' pretty soon I fin' dat de bes' knife I ever 
 see, it eut a hair jes like a razor,— very good knife what- 
 ever. Den I lay down to sleep a little, an' bimeby I wake 
 up an' I see a mouse eatin' away at de grub I Icf on my tin- 
 plate. So dat mouse, atter he fill hisself with grub, he lay 
 down right on de plate an' he go to sleep. 
 
 ' Bimeby he sleep very hard ; den I take dis knife an' I 
 begin shave dat mouse. I shave him very still like, an' de 
 knife it so shar|) he don't know it, an' lay still jes like he was 
 dead. AVhen I got one side dat mouse shaved, den I go to 
 turn him over to shave tudder side. When I turn him over 
 he jes kick out one bin' leg, den he lay still agin, an' I 
 shave tudder side all right. An' when I got job all done I 
 shake de plate a little, an' mouse wake up an' run off to his 
 hole widout dam bit hair on him. Oh, dat very good knife ! 
 I keep him till dis spring, an' lose him when we bringin' up 
 de supplies.' 
 
 AVe thought the illustration of the extreme keenness of 
 the knife, by making the only stir of the mouse during the 
 shaving be caused by turning him over, a very clever one. 
 
 The IMic-JNIacs are— according to the custom )f Anglo- 
 Saxons with inferior races— harshly and often brutally tv.itcd 
 by their white neighbours, of whom they seem afraid, and lo 
 
 • Whetstone. 
 D 
 
26 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKHS. 
 
 whose extortions ami roiifrlinesses they submit in ti (juiet and 
 unconiphiiiiinfT way tliat is often patlietic. ISIost of them are 
 devout Roman Catholics, and very attentive to all the feasts 
 of the Church,— «hicli spiritual hancpiets are about the only 
 ones they can ever hope to share. The short fishing season 
 is, to them, the luxury of the year— the sole portion of it 
 when they have the chance of eating all they want of whole- 
 some food; and they then show that wonderful capacity of 
 stomach which is a marvel to the white man. As an instance 
 not at all extraordinary, four Indians, to my knowledge, 
 consumed in two days twenty poimds of salt pork, ten 
 pounds of flour, three quarters of a bushel of potatoes, 
 a pound of tea, and a gallon of molasses. This was 
 at the beginning of the fishing, when they had just left 
 tiie Mission, and were fresh from their ten months 
 of semi-starvation. For these degenerate days such a feat 
 is remarkable, though it appears trifling beside some of the 
 gastronomic records of antiquity-as, for instance, that of the 
 Roman Emperor Alaximinus, who is said to have devoured 
 in one day forty pounds of meat, washing down his feast 
 with an amphora or two of the wine of the country. Still, 
 were he in the field now, there are several Mic-.Macs of my 
 acquaintance whom I should like to see pitted against his 
 Imperial Majesty for a pull of a fortnight on salt pork, 
 potatoes, and salmon. 
 
 It seems a point of honour with the In('ians to never 
 lose the chance of a hearty meu' an every piienomenon 
 of existence furnishes a proper ,. for this nidulgence 
 
 —retiring; waking up during tl, -l.t; arising t\„ the day; 
 leaving camp on an errand, liowe\. tri' ,d ; returning from 
 
I'.ii.iN 111-; Kii II.!': 
 
 I>r,u\ii iiiid I'Uiiitil by H. Samjua.m. 
 
 1 
 
L 
 
^^ 
 
 K* 
 
 ^<^^.- 
 
 '';!. W 
 
 
 ^..' ' 
 
 y^ i- -- '■ 
 
 J^ 
 
CANOES AND INDIANS. 
 
 27 
 
 the same; visits of frie.ids.-for any Indian passing up and 
 down the river would deem it a gross violation of social 
 proprieties not to stop a,id 'bile de kittle' at every 
 camp where his countrymen are employed. These visits 
 are a dreadful strain on the larder of the angler, and have 
 to be reckoned on as a large element in providing food for a 
 camp. One day we had twelve come to us, with six friends, 
 all of whom stopped for luncheoa on their way up the river ; 
 and their stay being prolonged for several hours, they swept 
 every ounce of edibles from the place, except a few canned 
 things, and.we were obliged to send to Matapedia that night 
 for a fresh supply. Their powers of abstinence under necessity 
 are remarkable, and they can endure hunger to a degree nearly 
 equal with their prowess in appeasing it. 
 
 There is commonly to be observed in them a mental 
 quality hard to describe, and which I have never seen except 
 
 in Indians. 
 
 We had, as an example, for several years as cook one Jim 
 Pole. To him the knowledge never came that we expected 
 to have three meals on any particular day, simply because we 
 had been h, the habit of having them. He was always cheer- 
 ful, and perfectly willing to cook a dozen dinners daily.-which 
 I do not doubt he often did for the men ; but if, before going 
 to bed, we omitted to tell him that we wanted breakfast the 
 next morning, and to specify the hour and every item of 
 food for the meal, he would fail to furnish anything. 
 
 He never came for orders, iu,r did he ever i)ractise his art 
 without exphcit directions. On one occasion, wl..n we expected 
 certain of the white natives, with their female relatives, to dinner, 
 and wished to prepare a somewhat elaborate feast, after the 
 
88 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 menu had been settled I remembered we liad some canned 
 green corn, and, summoning the cook, said, 'Jim, you may 
 give us some of tliat corn for dinner.' ' Yes, Sir,' was the 
 smiling response. But little did I think that he considered this 
 order a constructive cancellation of the previous laboured ones, 
 and great was my dismay when, on leading a blooming girl 
 to the table, tiie only dish displayed was a huge one of canned 
 com. Jim was standing by highly pleased with his success, 
 and when, with a horrible suspicion of the truth, I demanded 
 the production of the rest of the dinner, his cheerful answer 
 was, ' Well, you say git com, an' so I git corn an' stop make 
 tudder dinner.' There was no use in scolding him, as the 
 fault was mine, and the banquet was apologetically postponed 
 for an hour. 
 
 This necessity of giving the plainest and most definite in- 
 structions to get anything done applies to most Indians, and 
 has to be recognised in order to get along well with them. 
 You can have one wake you at six every morning for a 
 month, and the first time you omit telling him specifically to 
 do so you can sleep your head off without his interference, 
 though he may know you have made every arrangement to 
 go out half an hour later. 
 
 This does not come from laziness, indifference, or want 
 of zeal, but from some peculiar form of imperfect mental 
 development. Of course it is a fatal obstacle to success in 
 the competitions of civilised life, and unfortunately seems to 
 be quite as prominent in those having a mixture of white 
 blood — and there are many of these— as in the pure red men. 
 
 The English of the Mic-lNIacs is, as a rule, scanty, and, 
 being learned frona the descendants of the Scctch settlers. 
 
CANOES AND INDIANS. 
 
 S9 
 
 has irany of their pecuhar idioms. Their own language, 
 when spoken, has a very soft sound— some of the words, as 
 adoarzo (trout), negado, napsado, and others, seeming like 
 Italian or Spanish,— though there are plenty of long harsh 
 words too. However, the exceedingly gentle and low manner 
 of speech takes away all effect of this, and their conversation 
 is pleasant to listen to, although you may not understand a 
 word of it. Some words are of tlie most portentous length. 
 That for the rise of a fish is, ' Up-cliil-mo-timp-ke-wail.' A 
 ford is ' Usoogom-u-soog-we-dampk,' 'a wading-across place.' 
 The names of places are in some instances very pretty wlien 
 translated. The Peticodiac river, 'the river bends around in 
 a bow'; the Pabos, 'playful Avaters'; Little River, Kesoos- 
 kowastoogwek, 'flowing among hemlock boughs.' The names 
 of the months are interesting :— January, 'frost fish month'; 
 February, 'the snow-bhnder'; March, 'Spring month'; April, 
 'egg-laying month'; May, 'month of young seals'; June, 'leaf- 
 opening month ' ; July, ' month when sea-birds shed tlieir 
 feathers ' ; August, ' month when young birds are full fledged ' ; 
 September, 'moose-calling month'; October, 'month when tame 
 animals are fiit'; November, Skoals (this I can't get trans- 
 lated); December, 'chief month' (when Ciuistmas comes). 
 
 The Mic-Macs are certainly the most amiable people in 
 the world. They never seem to get angry at each other, even 
 for the worst cases of carelessness or stui)idity. I have seen 
 a canoe ruined by the carelessness of the bowman in rumiing 
 it on a sharp rock, and the owner in the stern submit without 
 a rising tone of voice even, though the canoe was his greatest 
 possession. Other misfortunes, whicli would drive most white 
 men into paroxysms of rage, don't affect them in the least. 
 
■nm^ 
 
 moftmrn 
 
 30 
 
 FISHING I\ CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 They seein devoid of envy or iiiu'liaritableness, and never 
 have anything bad to say of each other, and seldom of tliose 
 who employ them. Taken altogether, I know of no more 
 honest, gentle, generons, and inoffensive people than these 
 jNIission Indians. Althongh very poor, they are not envious 
 of, and uniformly respect, the property of others ; they submit 
 without repining to their hard lot ; bear the ill-treatment they 
 receive with wonderful jxitience and lack of rancour ; are grate- 
 ful for any kindness; and are, moreover, natural sportsmen. 
 
 ISIost of them will get drunk when they have the chance 
 to enjoy that bliss honestly, but they very rarely take any 
 liquor from their employers. I have never known a drop to 
 be extracted from Camp Harmonv, though for weeks to«£ether 
 the chance has been open to men I have seen staggering 
 drunk half-an-hour after being i)aid off at iMatapedia. 
 
 The Ristigouche will lose nuich of its charm when the 
 faithful, improvident, lazy, and picturesque JNIic-Macs no longer 
 launch their light canoes on her broad bosom, and pole them 
 in graceful and easy unist)n of swing up her stiff current, or 
 erect along her bold shores their wigwams or shanties, which 
 seem a ])roduct of the soil — growing from it, so consonant 
 are they in form and colour with the unspoiled face of 
 nature. 
 
 The Mic-Macs are much addicted to profanity ; but even 
 in its most conq)licatcd forms the practice of this vice with 
 them is hardly offensive to tlie refined ear. They swear in a 
 tone and manner wholly free from the taint of blasphemy, and 
 innocently use oaths as a necessary part of speech. Even tlie 
 clergy, and ladies who are tiirown into contact witli them, get 
 accustomed to this feature wonderfully soon, and listen to all 
 
1 
 
 CANOER AND INDIAN'S. 31 
 
 ordiiiiiry forms of it without a siiudder. So naturally and 
 freely do the oaths flow from the untutored lips of the Indians 
 that, together perhaps Avith the unaccustomed pronunciation, 
 one hearkens to them without any feeling of hearing wiiat 
 is wn)ng or that injury, subjective or objective, is at all likely 
 to result. I have, years ago, remonstrated with them on this 
 subject, and they have promised to refrain ; but perhaj)s ten 
 minutes later, and when some purist was about, one would 
 rip out a frightful string of oaths upon seeing a canoe pass 
 I by or a bird Hy over. It was impossible to convey to tliem 
 
 any idea of the morals of the thing, and so we have gradually 
 accepted the swearing in the light of mild emphasising of 
 social converse. 
 
 AVe had, in 1880, as a waiter and general servant at Camp 
 Harmony, a youth of sixteen, the son of Alexis Marchand, our 
 head man. Voimg Alexis resembled his father in being 
 industrious for his race, intelligent, and willing, and after a 
 month's training became very useful in supplying our wants — 
 getting so that he didn't clean the knives on iiis trousers, 
 ceased drawing corks with his teeth, and learned certain of the 
 uses of a broom and of water. He was the best-tempered boy 
 in the world, and his swearing seemed but tiie outward and 
 visible sign of a soul bubbling over with good intentions. 
 At breakfast, for instance, if asked to get an egg, or any 
 other article in possibility, his smiling answer as he darted 
 off on the errand was uniformly ' By G — I will.' In 
 aimouiicing the good fortunes of Mr. Lawrence's afternoon 
 tishing, there would be an incidental accoini)anying damning 
 of my friend, his men, the canoe, and the fish, uttered in 
 the most suave manner, and all indicative of the highest 
 
 k 
 
•mr^mm^ 
 
 mn^ 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 regard for the fisherman, and unbounded rejoicing at his 
 success. 
 
 In quoting these innocuous profanities, even after fully 
 explaining their charm, I feel that I cannot make them appear 
 to the reader unfamiliar with the Mic-Macs at all as they 
 do to those who hear them in their unstudied freshness and 
 innocence. They certainly are not at all shocking, nor do 
 they lead one to tremble for the souls of their authors. 
 
 A crew of Indians, expecting to be together though but 
 for a few days, always chooses for itself, or has chosen by its 
 employers, a head-man, who assumes to lay out and direct the 
 work about camp for the others. Natural fitness for such a 
 position does not seem to be any recommendation when the 
 Indians themselves do the selecting, and the most austere of 
 them is always a very easy master. In fact the ' head man ' 
 generally has to take most of the reproaches and do most of 
 the work. His authority is seldom exercised, and when it is, 
 is jjretty uniformly disregarded. Lawrence and I for a number 
 of years have had with us Alexis Marchand and J ^-ques 
 Vicaire, each bringing with him his own second man. These 
 have not always been the same. 
 
 Alexis is a pure-blooded Indian, and had he lived a 
 hundred years ago would have been a man of mark in his 
 tribe. He has a great deal of intelligence, ingenuity, and 
 courage, an amiable disposition ; but his face and manner in- 
 dicate that he is a very unsafe man to trifle with. This is 
 recognised by his white neighbours, who treat him with a 
 respect they pay to no other Indian I know. Alexis has 
 been the 'head man' at Camp Harmony ever since his first 
 year there— Jacques being tleposed in order to give him the place. 
 
 i 
 
AI-ICXIS MAKCHANh 
 Ktciiinji l)y Mr.s. A. !,i..\ MiciiUirr, afloi a dras^iiii; In Miss Sac.i-.. 
 
CANOES AM) INDIANS. 
 
 88 
 
 Jacques is of mixed French and Indian lineage— a man 
 now of near seventy, but still hardy and active. He is always 
 cheerful and merry, incorrigibly lazy about everything but 
 fishing, has a great fund of anecdote, and wonderful powers 
 of conversation. He is a delightful companion, and I am 
 very fond of him. He is considered by his fellows a man of 
 wealth, from owning a cow and two horses— one of which, 
 however, he sold for one hundred and twenty dollars last 
 year— the financial exploit of his life-and is a wit of the 
 first water. He is a great singer of quaint old Indian and 
 French chants and ditties, and, at the Mission dances his 
 humming of 'The devil among the tailors' is preferred by 
 many to instrumental music. 
 
 He has the peculiarity of most Indians of refusing to tell 
 his tales when asked directly, and I have found the only way 
 is to let him take his own time, and pump him very deli- 
 cately when he is in the humour. One of the best of his 
 stories was told anent a visitor who had fished very ardently 
 for several days without any result, because, although new 
 to the business, he disdained to follow advice, and insisted 
 on testing a dozen or so novel theories of his own gathered 
 from his experience in catching chubs and perch in his native 
 
 State. 
 
 'You know,' said Jacques to me as we were going up 
 the river one morning, and passed the gentleman in (juestion, 
 who had a hand-line over one side of his canoe, and his rod 
 in the bottom, with the fly just dangling over the top of the 
 water, 'what we call new man? Tchicii-e-tel-e-get. I tell 
 you how we call him so. Well, one time Tchich-e-tel-e-get, 
 dat's Kingfisher, he go to head man an' say he want to go 
 
 E 
 
WMaHBI 
 
 u 
 
 KISIHNC; IN CANADIAN WATKHS. 
 
 Hsliin" ; so liead mini he give hiiii advance— he <five him Hue 
 l)lue an' white coat, Hue bij-- bhick cap an' ])eta-up-tc'his- 
 ([iion, dat mean long bill. Den Kingfisher he go to work 
 Hsliin', an' he fish very hard ever sence, bnt have damn bad 
 luck. He go down in water ten, twenty time in little while, 
 an" he hard jiiit to git a bit to eat himself; an' he 'fraid to 
 go back to head man, 'cause he know damnation well he 
 never ketch nufr fish to pay his fit-out. So I tink same 
 with dat fellow like Tchich-e-tel-e-get, he fish, fish, fish here 
 til) winter, an' he never git uufF to pay his advance. So 
 dats why we give him name.' 
 
 The name has stuck, and the gentleman in question— who 
 still comes to the river— is called Tchich-e-tel-e-get to this day 
 by tlie Indians. 
 
 The following story .Jacques told me one day when we 
 had gone up to Mowat's Rock, and were waiting by the 
 shore until the sun got of!" the j)ool :— ' Long ago, grandfadcr 
 of mine— he chief, name Miskega-Ta-am, he great Co (friend) 
 wid de salmon, an' he talk wid deni. Sometime he iro 
 down to bottom of riber in tideway — he have coat from 
 skill of young moose dat make him so he kin walk under de 
 water jes like you walk on Ian" — an' he talk in bottom of 
 ribcr with de chief of all de salmon— he very big, long as 
 canoe an' he tell my grandfader how to git salmon when- 
 clier he want him. And dis Saumo-bloino, dat 's chief salmon, 
 lie call all de salmon togeder. an' he say to dem, " Now, you 
 go up Matapediac riber," an' tudder he tell go u]) main riber, 
 an .some up Apsetpiish ; an' he sliow my grandfader dose 
 salmon he kin spear. Well den, dose salmon dcy do jes like 
 Saumo-blonio tell dem ; an' v.heii tings all settled like, mv 
 
 li 
 
TANOKS AM) INDIANS. 
 
 35 
 
 graiKlfiider, lie conic u]) to dc shore alter lie say good-bye to 
 Saiiiiio-hlonio, an" lie liide liis moose coat till iiex' year. An' 
 den lie tell de Indians what he fin" out; and hiineby day 
 start u]). Iioiit ten, maybe twelve canoes, u}) far as mout 
 A])se(]iiish, an" nex' night dey Sjiea'- down from ilerc an" git 
 all canoes full salmon. Hut Miskega-Ta-am lie not let dem go 
 'bove mout Apsetiiiish tell after twenty-nint dis inoiit (.lime). 
 When dat time come dey camp on de pint an" have hell of 
 a time ; den dat night canoes go 'bove far 's de wateifall, "bout 
 five mile, you know, an" spears {h)wn an" git great /isliin' 
 whatever. Well, dat go on so for great many years. Saumo- 
 blomo he come up tideway eb'ry spring ic.\' have some talk 
 wid Miskega-Ta-am. an" dey jjlenty sahnoii all de time. Himebv 
 white men come, an" first ting dey do is to kill Saumo-blomo ; 
 den ])retty soon INIiskega-'ra-am he die too— very, very ole- an" 
 dey drift an" drift, an" spear salmon in de spawnin" beds, an" 
 all ober, an" prctt:y soon very few salmon in ril)er ; i'cw, maybe 
 some, once ii, while, but not like when Miskega-Ta-am an' 
 Saumo-blomo dey work it.' 
 
 1 used to carry with inc, in the canoe, a note-book for 
 the ])urpose of taking down at once Jaccpies" stories when he 
 felt disposed to favour me. Talking one day about big 
 salmon brougnt out the following : — 
 
 'Once I speared salmon fifty weight after he split an' lav 
 in canoe two day. After I spear him I have to jump out of 
 canoe an' go ashore "fore I Ian" him. He dam long fish what- 
 ever — long's dat gaif, an" tin (thin) like, almos' same black 
 :;dmon. S'pose blood an" guts I fake out him weigh five six 
 pound, so ;ie nior'ii filly weight. I spear dat lisli way up 
 riber in .Fiiiiiny"s Hole. Well, one time I hear Mr. llilcher 
 
 1-. 2 
 
 « 
 
 LiKsj^iKii 
 
 Mail 
 
36 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 (Whitcher) tell /^eiitlemaiis he see salmon in Ked Hank pool 
 long's his canoe, — dat 's b ut twelve feet I s'pose ; but I tink 
 dat dam lie. Nudder time I went up to l*ata])ediae with 
 twi) Indians atter bark. In de nij^lit we <fo out to git salmon 
 for breakf'as' ne\' mornin', so we light fland)eaux an' go down 
 riber little ways. I'retty soon I see big black log in bottom — 
 you know I touglit dat ; jes' as canoe go by dat log, Peter 
 Sock he say "My God! dat "s salmon," so I look roun' an' 
 I see his tail. Den we snub canoe an' pole up very still 
 litWe ways, an' we come down over him very handy like, an' 
 I see he so dam big I 'traid to put spear into him — you see 
 ))ole rot very strong. Den we go back to shore an' cut new 
 ])ole for spear ; we put s])ear on dat ])ole an' go out to try 
 him agin ; but we can't fin" him at all, 'l>)ugh we lumt. hunt 
 for 'bout two hour. Few days atter, John Capeli ; !;c saw 
 dat salmon u)) Kidgwick, an' I sure it same salmon, for John 
 he tink it ole log same as me.' 
 
 The Mission, as it is commoidy called, or, more proj)erly, 
 St. Anne de Histigouchc. is opposite Canipbellton, as near 
 the mouth of the river as its very gradual broadening into 
 the Hay of Chaleurs admits of that point being determined. 
 It is tiie home of about 170 families, who occupy 5.50 acres 
 of land assigned them by the (Government. This does not 
 amount to uuich. divided ip among so many, especially as 
 the more thrifty own greater than e([ual pro|)ortions, varying 
 from ten to tiiirty acres. 
 
 Tntii about forty years ago most of the Indians lived 
 in wig^vams made of bark ; but tiiese h.'.\e been replaced 
 by liouscs but little more comfortable, 1. ing ordinarily 
 but two rooms, and l)uilt so shabbily that llicy afford poor 
 
lilL-lunj; liy Mr,, A. \A:\ Mi;Kiiii i. .if;n ,i ilr^iwinj; iiy Miss >.u;i.. 
 
 Dl 
 
m 
 
Mi 
 
 I 
 
CANOES AND INDIANS. 
 
 37 
 
 protection against the extreme cold of the winters. AVe 
 visited the Mission in July 1880, going down the fourteen 
 miles of river from Matapedia in our canoes one beautiful 
 wSunday morning. We expected to reach tiiere in time for 
 the afternoon mass at the church, but stopped so long at the 
 pond where breeding salmon were being collected that the 
 services were just ending as we touched the shore. 
 
 \\c found the settlement at Mission Point to consist of 
 one long street, running close to the shore, for a distance 
 of a mile and a half The houses were on tiiis street, or 
 a short way back from it. ^^'e went into a number of 
 tliem— as I knew most of the owners— escorted by Alexis, 
 who wanted to show us everything there was. Some of the 
 houses were unexpectedly clean, and in all we had genuinely 
 hearty welcomes, with the usual swearing accompaniment. 
 At one house, that of old Joe Vieaire, Jaccpies' brother, we 
 were received by a dozen members of the family on entering, 
 and dm-ing all our stay they Hocked in from the neighbour- 
 ing hovels, a steady stream. At each new arrival Joe would 
 swee]) aside those near us in order to bring up and introduce 
 the late comers. They consisted of his daughters and sons, 
 with their husbands, wives, and children, and there must have 
 been forty of them at least. 
 
 One nice-looking woman, who came forward witli three little 
 children clinging to her dress, Joe said had been deserted by 
 iier husband, who ran off to 'the States' two years before. 
 When her fatlicr had given us this information, she said it 
 was all rigiit as long as she had a good father and mother to 
 go to, and Joe smilingly assented to this view of her fortunate 
 condition. He is one of the ])oorest Indians at the Mission. 
 
mmm 
 
 \ 
 
 38 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 I • 
 
 His liouse is liardly as large or us comfortable as a f,'oo(l cow- 
 stable for one, and lie lias a tlironff of unmarried children ; yet 
 he seemed f,dad to have his daughter, with her three infants, 
 added to his familv, and did not hint at any unkind feeliu"' 
 towards his absconding son-in-law. 
 
 After leaving jjoor Joes residence, he and Alexis took us 
 to the churdi on our way to the i)riest's. Father (iuay, who. 
 Alexis said, would be 'Ci — damn ])roud ' to see us. The 
 church was unexpectedly large and well furnisiied ; there were 
 several ])aintings of considerable size hung on the walls, and 
 a large one over the altar. The subject of this was St. Anne 
 parting the clouds with both hands, and appearing to an 
 admiring group of persons, — supposed to represent, as we were 
 afterwards told by Father Guay, an adoring Mie-Mac family. 
 The Indian warrior was standing; his head was covered with 
 curls ; lie wore heavy side whiskers, and a uniform coat with 
 large epaulets ; his lower extremities were clad in a less 
 civilised manner, and his wife and children, who were "-azinj-- 
 at St. Anne with rapt attention, might easily be taken for 
 natives of Canada. 
 
 Father Guay's little house was nestled down under the 
 church, and looked out on the river ; a small garden was 
 ])lanted with such vegetables as the short summer v ould 
 mature, among them, somewhat to our surprise, a little plot 
 of tobacco. The study and reception-room of the ])riest was 
 large and comfortable, and iiad on its shelves a very good 
 collection of French books, mostly theological, many of them 
 rare, and handsomely bound. Father Guay seemed the ty])ical 
 French t7//<?— good-natured, amiable, contented with liis lot. 
 and, at the same time, inspired with that spirit which has 
 
 \ii I 
 
 i I 
 
C.WOI.S AM) INDIANS. 
 
 m 
 
 made the Jesuit priests aeeomplish siieli wonders in Canada. 
 He was sent to tliat lonely >rission two years ago, knowing 
 then no English nor Mie-Mac. He now speaks English with 
 Hueney, can talk with his parishioners understandingly in their 
 own tongue, and is well advanced in the composition of a 
 Mic-Mac French and English Dictionary, and a history of the 
 tribe, the latter of which he ex))ects to publish in a year or 
 two. lie showed us the .ms. of the Dictionary, which has 
 reached respectable i)roportions, and, as may be imagined from 
 his short study of two of the languages used, has cost him 
 much time and labour. 
 
 Sl'KAKINli SAl-MUN 
 lly \\ . ij. lii k\-Ml'kuckii ; ciigr.ived liy .Annan ^inil .swan. 
 
38 
 
 I'lSIIING I\ CANADIAN WATKRS. 
 
 I lis lioiise is lianlly as lar<«e or as conifortahlc as a nr,),),l (.,,\v- 
 stahle for one. and he lias a lliroiif.- of uiiiiuirried cliildirii ; yet 
 he seemed <,dad to liave his daiij-iiter. with iier tliree infants, 
 added to iiis faniilv. and did not hint at anv unkind feelin"- 
 towiirds iiis ahseonthni;' son-in-hi\v. 
 
 ^Vfter leavini;- poor .foe's residenee. lie and Alexis took ns 
 to the ehureh on onr way to the priest's, l-'ather (Juay, who, 
 Alexis said, would he '(i — danni proud' to see us. The 
 ehureh was unexpeetedly large and well furnished ; there were 
 several paintings of eonsiderahle si/e hung on the walls, and 
 a large one over the altar. The suhjeet of this was St. Anne 
 l)arting the elouds with both hands, and appearing to an 
 ailniiring grouj) of persons,— supposed to represent, as we were 
 afterwards told hv Father (Juav. an adoring Mie-Mac fn.uK- 
 
 vl ..V V'i 
 
( .\\()l,> AM) INDIANS. 
 
 ii9 
 
 iiKidc tlif Jesuit priests accoinplish such wonders in Canada. 
 lie was sent to tliat lonely Mission two years a^o, 'cnowing 
 tlieii no Eiifflisli nor Mie-Mae. lie now speaks English with 
 Huency, ean talk with his parishioners understandinffly in their 
 own tongue, and is well advanced in the composition of a 
 Mic-Mac French and Kni^lish Dictionary, and a history of the 
 tribe, the latter of which he ex))ects to publish in a year or 
 two. He showed us the .ms. of the Dictionary, which has 
 reached respectable projjortions, and, as may be imagined from 
 his sliort study of two of the languages used, has cost him 
 much time and labour. 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 u tU 12.2 
 
 
 2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 L25 iu 
 
 '/] 
 
 -^ 
 
 ^;. 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WIST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. M580 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 
 ^^^^4^'^^ 
 
 V^"^ 
 V 
 

Il I 
 
 
'' 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 'Tis pleasant, o'er the evening glass, 
 To hear the blitliesome song. 
 And tlrink the health of lionest hearts 
 We've known both well and long, 
 Wlio've haunted all the sweetest spots 
 Of our delightful stream, 
 With zest as indescribable 
 As youth's delicious dream. 
 
 Wm. Gii.i, Thomson-, 
 Nnccastle Fisher's Garland, 1838. 
 
^im* 
 
 ^mt^ 
 
 \ 
 
babble of the Upsalquitclj gives an entirely different effect, 
 and marks as well the different characters of the two streams. 
 The point formed by the junction of the rivers is 
 acute, and seems designed by nature for human hal"" -tion. 
 There is a Uttle flat close by the water extending up the 
 
 V 2 
 
 Jk 
 
^IPI" 
 
 I il 
 
CAMP HARMONY 
 
 HE mouth of the Upsalquitcli has 
 for many years been a favourite 
 spot for camping, both by reason of 
 its natural beauties of water and sjjore 
 and its adaptability as a base for 
 fishing operations. 
 The Upsalquitcli Pool flows and leaps on one side, with 
 its eddies and miniature whirlpools caused by tlie great 
 sunken rocks' resistance to the strong current, which, in 
 addition to the steady noise of its journey, causes occasional 
 strange sounds by its sweep along the irregular and jagged 
 outline of the granite wall lining tlie shore. 
 
 On the other side of tlie point the gentle murmur and 
 babble of the Upsalquitcli gives an entirely different effect, 
 and marks as well the different characters of the two streams. 
 The point formed by the junction of tiie rivers is 
 acute, and seems designed by nature for human habitation. 
 There is a little flat close by the water extending up the 
 
 r 2 
 
P-TT 
 
 ^«V 
 
 44 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 Upsalquitcli. From it an abrupt rise of twenty-five feet 
 brings you to a narrow triangular plateau, having perhaps 
 fifty feet front on the Ristigouche, but running back along 
 the smaller liver half-a-mile before the mountain side of it 
 comes to the waters edge. Going up the Ristigouche, 
 this plateau is terminated by a high and very steep hill, 
 rising within a few yards of the house. 
 
 After having camped for several seasons on this spot, we 
 succeeded in getting possession of it, and in building thereon 
 Camp Harmony, — so named partly, as might be guessed, from 
 the spirit we desired should always remain there, and partly 
 in honour of a gentle woman whose whole life showed how 
 rightly this quaint nomenclature had been given her. The 
 name has proved a lucky one, and in tiie seven or eight years 
 since the house was built no quarrels or discords have been 
 heard within its walls, but peace, hapjiiness, and good fellow- 
 ship have reigned without interruption. 
 
 Camp Harmony is a building twenty-four feet by thirty, 
 made from small spruce logs, rimning up horizontally about 
 twelve feet high, squared, and jointed at the ends, the large 
 cracks between them being stuffed with moss. 
 
 On three sides of the edifice, and twelve feet from its walls, 
 are the posts of the piazza, made of peeled spruce logs eight to 
 ten inches in diameter, and cut above the branches, which are 
 not entirely taken off, but left a few inches long, giving many 
 convenient projections to hang things on. These posts are eight 
 feet high, and from them the roof starts, on a gradual curve — 
 in the French Canadian style — and comes to a point above the 
 centre of the house at a height of twenty feet. It was 
 at first covered with long split cedar shingles, which with 
 
Mijirn oi ii's\i,(jiiii 11 
 
 Etching by C. A, I'l ait. 
 
 I 
 
i 
 
r 
 
 u 
 
 I I 
 
 , \ 
 
t AMI' IIAUMONV 
 
 4.-, 
 
 age gradually assumed so beautiful a colour, that until very 
 lately we could not make uj) our minds to have them replaced 
 with a material which would keep out the rain. 
 
 The Camp is entered from the front by a large door divided 
 in halves, over the lower one of which we can lean and 
 smoke, and overlook the prospect beneath. There is a corre- 
 sponding door at the rear, and between them, t«) the right as 
 you enter from the f>*ont, a large fireplace, witii iron dogs and 
 a crane. It is six feet wide, and will lu)kl a good fraction ')f 
 a cord of wood; and often i) June and July its powers have 
 been tasked to overcome tlit- keenness of the cold winds 
 which whistle around the point. 
 
 The o:?>er interior .langements lonsist of two sleeping- 
 rooms, divided from the maiti iijartment by double partitions 
 of birch-bark. Each has bunks on the floor, which are filled 
 with hemlock or spruce bougiis when occupied. There are in 
 the main apartment several closets, in wliich we keep our 
 supplies, except such as, in the form of hams or bacon, we 
 suspend to a beam running through the centre of the Camp 
 overhead. All of the three rooms are airy, as there is nothing 
 between them and the sky but the peaked and leaky roof, in 
 the top of which we always have, in June, a twittering pair 
 of barn swallows nesting. 
 
 In front of our broad piazza we have before us one of the 
 best salmon-pools of the Ristigouche ; and at the right, beyond 
 the impetuous Upsalquitch, the blue peak of Squaw's Cap rises 
 majestic above the surrounding hills, and, half a mile below 
 the rocky precipice — along the turn of the river, at the High 
 Rock Pool — seems to bring the stream to an abrupt ending. 
 
 We have in the rear of the Camp, and built on it, a 
 
46 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 small kitchen of rougli boards, with a cooking-stove in it, 
 and here the faithful Nat Comley plies his vocation unceas- 
 ingly during our stay. 
 
 His experience of thirty winters as cook in lumber camps 
 has made him independent of the thousand adjuncts to their 
 art required by tlie cooks of towns, and his various shifts 
 and expecUents for getting on are interesting, successful, and 
 cost notliing. His ambition was fired the first year he came 
 with us by Robert, a coloured servant of Lawrence, who 
 knew everything, and could have passed a competitive 
 examination as a cordon bleu. Nat had the advantage of 
 his instructions for two summers, and, as a parting gift, the 
 present of a cookery-book, which he has studied into shreds. 
 
 The ten months that we are absent suffice to blunt his 
 skill a good deal; but he takes hold with fresh vigour every 
 year, and we shouldn't care to exchange him for the high- 
 toned artist of the Club, even would that personage conde- 
 scend to enter our humble abode. 
 
 A little distance back of the kitchen are the ice-house, 
 smoke-house, and wigAvam, the latter two built of bark, and 
 renewed yearly. The wigwam is round, about twelve feet in 
 diameter. It is made of light poles stuck into the ground and 
 converging to a centre ten feet high, then covered with long 
 strips of bark, beginning at the bottom and working upwards. 
 A fire is built in the centre, the smoke escaping through a 
 small hole in the top. There is a door of bark, and the 
 floor has a very scanty covering of boughs. Its capacity for 
 holding Indians is astonishing. Any number of chance visitors 
 are accommodated with ease, although four or five seem to 
 fill it ordinarily. 
 
i 
 
 OUk iJkAWlNU-KUUM 
 Eichingliy Gk(i. Aikman. 
 
 J 
 
r 
 
 I > 
 
 t i. 
 
 ..11 ,. /. I '« /mi >t 1 1 
 ^nuM't- iM>) ^ I jjniibi 1 
 
 ' '> 
 

 L_ 
 
r 
 
 I '» 
 
 hB^ 
 
CAMP HARMONY, 
 
 47 
 
 Tlie Indians do their cooking outside, except when it 
 rains, and then the Httle fire in the wigwam is made to 
 serve. 
 
 Our two rooms in the Camp are reserved for guests, 
 Lawrence and I preferring to sleep in tents, Avhich are 
 pitched on the plateau in front, and on the verge of the 
 bank which overhangs the river. A tent is the pleasantest 
 and most healthful sleeping chamber, except in the severest 
 weather,— and even then not bad with plenty of blankets. I 
 have tried in my time a good many different kinds, and I 
 think the one I am now using tiie best of them. It is the 
 invention of a friend of mine who passes a large part of every 
 summer travelling through the most fly-infested woods of the 
 country, and is, 1 think, worthy of description. The upper 
 part of it is a simple ' A ' tent, seven and a half feet long, 
 four and a half feet high, and four feet wide at the bottom. 
 This is made of light duck, with no opening at either end. 
 Along the top, on the outside, are short pieces of cord to 
 fasten it to the ridge-pole, which, when set, rests on two 
 upright forked sticks driven into the ground at each end of 
 the tent. Along the bottom of the duck, on both sides, 
 are cords, at intervals of eighteen inches, for fastening to 
 corresponding pegs in the ground. Sewed to the bottom of 
 the duck, two inches inside the lower edge, around its entire 
 length, is a piece of the thin cotton material known as cheese- 
 cloth, two and a half yards in depth. When the tent is set 
 up the duck portion of it does not reach the ground by 
 eighteen inches ; but its continuation of cheese-cloth is pulled 
 in towards the centre, tucked luidcr the blankets, and not a 
 fly, mosquito, or midge, can possibly get in. There is perfect 
 
48 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN AVATERS. 
 
 ventilation all around through the thin cheese-cloth, which 
 lets in plenty of air but breaks the force of the wind, and 
 the little tent remains perfectly dry through the heaviest 
 rains. You get in and out by lifting up the cheese-cloth in 
 the front or rear, neither of which is pegged down at all. 
 The tent will hold two comfortably if necessary, can be set 
 in ten minutes or less, and weighs but a few pounds. In 
 cold weather the duck can be pegged down close to the 
 ground, making a much warmer shelter than any ordinary 
 tent. 
 
 A properly made bed of spruce boughs is a work of some 
 trouble, which it amply repays, even if one has to do it 
 himself. The boughs should be of an uniform length of not 
 over fourteen inches, and taken from the ends of the branches, 
 where they grow flat. The bed is to be begun at the head 
 by sticking into the ground— which first should be perfectly 
 levelled, and the size of the bed enclosed in small logs— a row 
 of the twigs across the head, slightly inclining towards it. 
 This row is to be followed by successive ones, as close 
 together as they can be put, until the foot is reached. It 
 takes a good many boughs and a good bit of work to do 
 this ; but when properly finished it makes a bed soft, springy, 
 and smooth— an incomparable couch 1 After a few nights' use 
 the process should be repeated with fresh boughs, on top of 
 the original structure. This will last perfectly for a fort- 
 night, when a third similar addition may be made. This 
 gives you over a foot in thickness of mattress, and holds its 
 own for a month longer. A rubber blanket, the lined side 
 uppermost, should be placed on the boughs before the 
 woollen blankets, to prevent the dampness coming through ; 
 
 I 
 
 i ') 
 
CAMP HARMONY. 
 
 49 
 
 I 
 
 though I don't think a person would ever take cold without 
 the rubber, the boughs being a preventive. 
 
 In a permanent camp like ours a great many conveniences 
 can be kept about, which it would be impossible to have if 
 moving constantly from place to place. 
 
 Although the axe in the hands of a competent wielder is 
 a utensil of manifold uses, a few others are a great conveni- 
 ence. Of these, the little boxes that are now to be had with a 
 couple of dozen different tools, put up in small compass, very 
 often come into play for mending rods and making various 
 trifling repairs that add much to one's comfort. From 
 Robertson, a farmer near by, we get excellent lamb, potatoes, 
 eggs, and cream, and in July and August a succession of wild 
 berries. The salmon we do not want we split and salt for 
 the Indians to take home with them, and give a fresh one 
 occasionally to such of the settlers as we think least likely to 
 drift. Some of these natives are always at hand when we 
 break up, to receive such little things as we have no further 
 use for. We once made a present to one of them, on 
 leaving, of two bottles of Hunyadi Janos water, and learned 
 afterwards that he and his family heroically drank the whole 
 of it at their evening meal, in the belief that it was the 
 proper thing to do. 
 
 There is a wagon-road along the river from Matapedia to 
 the Upsalquitch ; but we generally come up on foot or in our 
 canoes, which make the distance of six miles in two and a 
 half iiours. 
 
 The Camp Pool begins about one hundred yards above the 
 point on the New Bnuiswick side. That sliore is very rocky, 
 and in some places the water is deep close to it. At the 
 
 G 
 
00 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKllS. 
 
 H 
 
 point itself there is a large eddy, which is also deep ; but im- 
 mediately at the lower edge of it the Upsalquitch water comes 
 in, forming with the main river a heavy ra])id, which flows 
 with undiminished vigour for near half-a-mile. At the upper 
 end of the pool there is a bar in the centre of the river, 
 which extends down a little way, and on the changes wrought 
 in the size and direction of this bar by the spring Hoods de- 
 ])end the spots where the salmon lie in that part of the pool. 
 There are always some in the ui)per part, on the New Bruns- 
 wick shore; but some years we find most of them in the 
 lower part of the ]M)o1, on the Quebec side, and in others none 
 are there. Just in front of the house, and (piite near the shore, 
 is a great place for them in certain seasons, especially for the 
 early fishing. As the water falls they begin to lie behind a 
 large rock in the middle of the eddy, and all down through 
 the rapid, especially where the two streams mingle. The 
 bottom of the whole ])ool is thickly strewn with large rocks, 
 which, Avith the different depths and varieties of flow in the 
 water, make the fish very fond of the i)lace ; and any time 
 during the season, early or late, they are to be found some- 
 where in it 
 
 We had, in the summer of 1886, a lucky chance of seeing 
 the whole bottom o])eiied up before us. The river was 
 moderately low, and very clear, as it generally is; there had 
 been a little sprinkle of rain, with some thunder, and the 
 clouds were very I'.cavy and threatening. I was standing at 
 the verge of tlie bluff', in the afternoon, when all at once the 
 western sun burst through the bank of clouds in front of it, 
 and threw its beams from underneath against the dark over- 
 hanging sky. I cannot atteujpt to theorise as to how the 
 
CAMP HAUMONY. 
 
 51 
 
 effect was produced ; but the water, which before had looked 
 brown, seemed all at once to almost vanisli, revealing plainly 
 the secrets it had heretofore guarded from us. I called 
 everybody about the place to see the wonderful phenomenon, 
 which lasted for a quarter of an hour, when the water began 
 to get perceptible, and gradually concealed the bottom from 
 our view as usual. Every stone and rock on the bed of the 
 stream we could locate as well as if they had been the same 
 distance from us on dry land, and could count the salmon 
 lying motionless behind them like dark bits of timber. 
 Below one rock we saw four, and others sheltered their 
 ones and twos, while some salmon were lying boldly in the 
 smoother part of the bottom unprotected. 
 
 Salmon frequently seem to prefer the smooth spots to 
 rest in when they have the choice between them and 
 rocky places. Some delicate turn of a current, influenced 
 perhaps by an obstruction far above, accounts for this. There 
 is such a place not far above the head of Nelson's Island, 
 on our water. It is a good way below Mowat's Rock Pool ; 
 the river is broad, and the current about as light as it is any- 
 where. Quite near the Quebec shore— with no indication 
 that would lead one to suppose it so to be— is a very pro- 
 ductive piece of water, which we went over for years with no 
 idea of its richness. It looks exactly like the rest of the long 
 flat, and there isn't a stone big enough to protect a grilse in 
 the length of it ; yet salmon lie there from the first run until 
 the river gets very low, and take as well as they do anywhere. 
 One morning in June 1886 I hooked seven and landed five 
 in this place, stopping only because I had had enough; and 
 the same afternoon a friend staying with us went up and 
 
 o2 
 
an FISHING IN CANADIAN U'ATIIKS, 
 
 returned with three, having lost two that lie hooked. It is 
 only by minute and persistent observation that all the holds 
 of salmon on a piece of water can be ascertained ; and one of 
 the principal results of experience about the maimers and 
 customs of tiiese fish is to be constantly on the lookout for 
 some strange and unexpected development. I believe that 
 were tlsere fewer salmon in the Ristigouche, quite as many or 
 more would be taken by angling, and a far better lot of 
 anglers evolved. One can now go there knowing absolutely 
 nothing of the habits of the fish, and if on good water, and 
 willing to do as he is told, can get all he wants without the 
 capability of tying his fly to his casting-line, or throwing it 
 when it is fastened. If a man knows he can go out in a pool, 
 have his Indian tell him what fly to use, and kill a couple 
 of salmon in an hour, he won't, as a rule, take the trouble to 
 go somewhere above or below where fish are very scarce and 
 hard to rise, and work all day to get one of them. Good 
 anglers and good shots are mostly made where fish and game 
 are wary and not plentiful, and every chance must be im- 
 proved to its utmost to secure any result. 
 
 Of the good anglers on the Ristigouche the osprey or fish- 
 hawk is the equal of any. A great nmny of these interest- 
 ing birds get their living from the river, and at almost any 
 time can be seen sailing around in large circles, so steadily 
 and evenly that the least stir of wing is imperceptible. When 
 fishing they see their prey from a great height, and will then 
 cease their flight, and by rapid motions of their wings remain 
 stationary for sometimes half-a-minute, then drop like a 
 stone to the water, and disappear beneath its siu-face. They 
 occasionally come up without the fish, but oflener with 
 
 iP> 
 
I 
 
 t AMI' IIAHMOSV. 
 
 5S 
 
 them. Their eyesight must be wonderfully keen, as they 
 make tlieir dives in the broken water of the rapids quite as 
 much as in the smo«)th places ; and it seems strange that tliey 
 can catch so active a fish as a trout at all. We once saw 
 one fishing the rapid a little below the Canij), and after 
 poising himself several times without making his descent, at 
 last he went down ; but instead of coming up directly, we .saw 
 nothing of him for as much as a minute. Then he appeared 
 further down, evidently attached to something as strong or 
 stronger than he ; and after l)eating the water in a vaiii 
 attempt to rise, he was again carried under. He soon came 
 up, and this time managed, after a struggle, to disengage him- 
 self, and flew laboriously to the shore, where he alighted on 
 a low tree, and remained a long time before he recovered his 
 wind. He must have got hold of a salmon, and his mis- 
 guided ambition was very nearly the cause of his death. 
 
 SALMON 
 
 ICiuhinj; in ("i. S. Fkkkikx 
 
 
( 
 
 ii 
 
 W FISIII\(; IN CANADIAN W ATI! US. 
 
 retiiiiied with three, Imviiijj lost two that lie hooked. It is 
 only hy minute and persistent observation that all the holds 
 of salmon on a piece of water can be ascertained ; and one of 
 the principal results of experience about the manners and 
 customs of these fish is to be constantly on the lookout fo. 
 s»)me strange and unexpected development. I believe that 
 were there fewer salmon in the Ristigouche, <juite as many or 
 more would be taken by angUiif?, and a far better lot of 
 anglers evolved. One can now go there knowing absolutely 
 nothing of the habits of the fish, and if on good water, and 
 willing to do as he is told, can get all he wants without the 
 capability of tying his fly to his casting-line, or throwing it 
 when it is fastened. If a man knows he can go out in a pool, 
 have his Indian tell him what fly to use, and kill a couple 
 of salmon in an hour, he won't, as a rule, take the trouble to 
 go somewhere above or below where fish are very scarce and 
 iiir,l to rise, and work all day to get one of them. Good 
 
i 
 
 C AMI' IIAUMONV. W 
 
 thciii. Their eyesight must Iw wonderfully keen, as they 
 make their dives in the broken water of the rapids quite as 
 much as in the smooth places ; and it seems strange that they 
 can catch so active a tish as a trout at all. We once saw 
 one fishing the rapid a little l)elow the Camp, and after 
 j)oising himself several times without making his descent, at 
 last he went down ; but instead of coming up directly, we saw 
 nt>thiiig of him for as much as a minute. Then he appeared 
 further down, evidently attached to something as strong or 
 stronger than he ; and after beating the water in a vain 
 attempt to rise, he was again carried under. He soon came 
 up, and this time managed, after a struggle, to disengage him- 
 self, and Hew laboriously to the shore, where he alighted on 
 a low tree, and remained a long time before he recovered his 
 wind. lie must have got hold of a salmon, an<' !iis mis- 
 guided ambition was very nearly the cause «>f his death. 
 
 
S.«4ii -■'>■. 
 
 :M 
 
 .i-».«(«j ' 
 
 " :~?t4:' W'^'''f-''-i^^^ 
 
 
 
 «,'^*'"^- 
 
 ^ 
 
mmmm 
 
 mmm 
 
 mm 
 
 m 
 
 'r*- 
 
 i .1 >\\K< ■ 
 1-. ■•' II .,) -. .ll.i.l 
 
 I 
 
 ._1^ 
 
; 
 
 :i 
 
 it ' 
 
 I 
 
 O S 1' R E Y 
 inching by II. .SANlillA.M. 
 
 i!>) 
 
 ^m 
 
 I 
 
i 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Traveling on his Journey in the heat of the Day he 
 
 must take a Bush, — if the Fisher-inan espy him, he 
 
 goeth at him with his Spear and so 
 
 shortncth his Journey. 
 
 '/'//(• mcoinplix/i'il ladies dcliirhl, I(j8,'i. 
 
 12 
 
p 
 
 'l'\ 
 
 ^ 
 
llie LIUUL, huCKtis, iiiiu eei> juin m tllC icist, am. lhvu ^>^^•• 
 
 brethren of the preceding year, forgetful of the ties of bh)otl, 
 sliare the banquet, and do what tliey can to externnnate tlie 
 luckless strangers. \Vhat small proportion survive the i)erils 
 
 ' Hooded iMeigaiiser, .U,ri;its c!uiiilal!<s--\ArK\l 
 II 
 
 M 
 
 M 
 
SALMON 
 
 IROJM his embryonic stage the sahnoii is 
 pursued by deadly and relentless enemies. 
 His parents, survivors of the hosts deci- 
 mated by their various enemies in the sea, 
 finally reach their chosen spawning-bed after 
 running the gauntlet of tiie forests of nets in the estuaries, 
 the drifters and the anglers in the rivers, and, after infinite 
 patient labour, deposit the ova in the gravelly troughs they 
 construct. These ova are greedily devoured during this pro- 
 cess even by the trout and suckers which hover about the 
 nu])tial couch. The sheldrake,' with her ravenous brood, is 
 eagerly watching the spawning-beds in the spring, to seize on 
 the helpless fry as they work their way out of the protecting 
 gravel and swim feebly about, hampered by the umbilical sac ; 
 the trout, suckers, and eels join in the feast, and tiicir own 
 brethren of the preceding year, forgetfid of the ties of blood, 
 share the bantjuet, and do what they can to exterminate the 
 luckless strangers. \\'hat small proportion survive the })erils 
 
 ■ Hooded .Mcrgaiibcr, .U, >x/ts cUd/ZlUiis -WinxW. 
 ii 
 
 VJ'' 
 
58 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 of extreme yoiitli and enter their second year still have the 
 sheldrake, trout, and kingfisher to contend with. I have taken 
 four parr from the stomach of a half-pound trout, and I 
 inchne to the belief that the kingfishers of salmon rivers make 
 most of their living off the parr and smolts. The destniction 
 wrought by a pair of them, with a brood to support, is enor- 
 mous -probably, for several weeks of the most active demand 
 for food, reaching forty or fifty fish daily As these birds 
 infest the salmon rivers of this country, the aggregate damage 
 they effect is very great, and I think they should be destroyed 
 without mercy. The misguided appetite of the parr is also 
 the cause of the taking off of multitudes of them in a river 
 that is fished, as they will rise eagerly to any fly, great or 
 small, and hook themselves deeply and often fatally, ^^'hen 
 the remnant descends to the sea it meets a variety of new 
 and hungry enemies; but the havoc committed by them is 
 not easily ascertained, though the following extract from an 
 article contributed to the Quartcrli/ Review in July 1857 by 
 a member of the Edinburgh Angling Club (Alexander 
 Russel '), shows what perils the salmon are exposed to in their 
 marine wanderings :— 
 
 ' In the spring of 1852 about five hundred kelts were marked with 
 gutta-percha rings, duly numbered, in a pool within a few yards of tide- 
 reacli at tiie bottom of tlie river Wliitadder, which joins the Tweed 
 innnediately above Berwick. The circumstances were somewhat unfavour- 
 able—a long drought retarding the departure of the fish— but doubtless 
 the great majority of them got safely away; and they went away for 
 ever— none returned, anu only three of them were ever heard of, in each 
 
 > Author of The Salmon. 8vo. Edin. 1869. Mr. Russel died in July 1876. A keen 
 angler, and a brilliant journalist. 
 
 
SALMON. 59 
 
 case iiiuier circiiin.stanccs of the most ili.stressiiifj c'liiiriu'ter. One of tlieni 
 was caught at the mouth of tlie Tyiie, seventy miles to the soutli ; another 
 at Vnrmoiitli, three hundred miles to tlie south ; and the third at F.ve- 
 inouth, ten miles to the north ; the htst-named individual heinj? found 
 in the stomach of a cod, with nothinj; remaininj; of him hut his vertehral 
 column ami his gutta-percha ticket. . . . From such facts we draw only 
 one "practical improvement," as the Scottish derfry term tlie hest and 
 brightest part of their discourses, that the fact of such great nudtitudes 
 I)erishing when beyond our help in the wide and wicketl sea, is, though 
 not exactly an encouragement, an additional reason why we should take 
 better care of them during tiie periods when they are our wards and 
 guests.' 
 
 These salmon may not liave all been destroyed utterly, 
 with the exception of the three mentioned, as their migration 
 j)erhaps extended to some river much further distant than 
 any of those mentioned. To illustrate the uncertainty anil 
 extent of the migrations of salmon, I (juote the following 
 from the American Angler of January 15, 1885 : — 
 
 ' Kesearclies by Swedish savnntu furnish evidence that salmon are in the 
 Imbit of making enormous forays across the Haltic, (piitting the rivers of 
 Northern Sweden and Finland in the autunni for a visit to tlie shores of 
 Northern Germany during the winter, and returning to their hainits in 
 the spring. In Germany and Norway efforts have been made to learn 
 something of the migrations of salmon through the plan of liberating 
 carefully-marked specimens, and offering rewartls for particulars concerninfr 
 their recapture. In 1872 a tliousjuul marked salmon were turned into 
 the Weser ; but not until a few weeks ago was the first capture of a 
 marked fish reported, the fish being taken near the same place where it 
 was put in the river, its weight over thirty pounds.' 
 
 I do not know if any more of the individuals of the 
 thousand have since been taken, and the one mentioned may 
 have ascended and descended the AVeser unharmed several 
 times during the thirteen years since his marking, which also 
 
 H 2 
 
60 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 may have been the case with some of the marked Tweed 
 kelts. Sahnon are sometimes (hiveii away en iiiaA'itc from the 
 mouths of tlieir rivers as they aj)proach them in tlie spring by 
 the unusual number of their enemies. In 1880 this iiappened 
 in tlie Uistigouche, the cause being great shoals of white 
 pori)oises, which cruised about tiie upper part of the Bay of 
 Chaleurs, and so harassed the j)oor fish that very few entered 
 the river. The nets did hardly anything, and three of us, in 
 over a fortnight's work on the Camp Harmony waters, killed 
 but one salmon. The fish may have remained in the sea all 
 that sunnuer, or gone to some remote river for the season. 
 There were plenty the next year. 
 
 The seals must destroy a great number every year, as 
 many of the fish taken in the nets and by angling, bear the 
 marks of the teeth of these animals, which sometimes go up 
 the river with the fish. This was done last year by one 
 individual at least, and the seal was seen by a munber of 
 people at various pools as far up as l*atapedia, and was 
 vainly shot at several times during his journey. 
 
 From not seeing seals in the upper waters later than 
 June, and but rarely then, it is j)robable that they do not 
 remain long in the river ; but, after escorting the fish forty 
 or fifty miles, leave them to their other enemies and return 
 to the sea. 
 
 The drift-net is the most potent cause of harm to the 
 fish after they have escaped the danger of the tideway. It 
 is a net long enough to reach across the river, and loaded 
 at the bottom, so that it will drag along close to the bed of 
 the stream. There are also floats on top. It is worked 
 down stream by two canoes, one near each shore, and the 
 
 i. 
 
SALMON. 
 
 61 
 
 places adapted for its most deadly use are the lonj,' Huts 
 wliere the water is of a pretty uiiiforin de|)tli and the bottom 
 sinootii. A f,'ood many phices of this kind are fretpiented 
 by sahnon constantly, and are g»)()d pools for anglinfr ; but in 
 others the salmon only come on nijrhts when they are ruimin^r. 
 They are then apt to leave the deep water and approach the 
 shores. Some of these flats on the Uistif,'oiiche are a mile 
 or more in len{,4h, with very few stones bijr enough to shelter 
 a salmon or catch the net, and one drift down such a place 
 is sure to get nearly, if not quite, all the fish in it. 
 
 The salmon has an invincible repugnance to go down 
 stream during the running season, and it is this that makes 
 him so easy a victim to the drift-net. 
 
 John Mowat, formerly head fishery officer of the Risti- 
 gouche, and who knows more about salmon than any one 
 on the river, says the fish don't always lose their self-posses- 
 sion when the net is approaching them. He has often seen 
 them drop slowly down stream ahead of it, until they come 
 to a stone which the net would have to rise above the 
 bottom to pass, and lie close behind it until the net had 
 gone by over their heads, when they would dash up stream, 
 knowing they were out of danger. He has also seen them— 
 not once or twice, but frequently— wait quietly until the net 
 was close upon them, and then with one leap clear the top 
 of it and go off rejoicing. 
 
 As I have before intimated, drifting is considered by the 
 Ristigouche settlers as a rather praiseworthy avocation, and 
 many of them are experts at the art, which, I believe, was 
 earned on for one or two seasons a very few years since, under 
 the direction of people at the mouth of the river, who bought 
 
es 
 
 IISIIING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 the fish so taken, and had them transported from Dec-side hy 
 wagons. The sympathies of tlie niajristrates are unifonnly 
 with their friends and neif^hbours who may have l)een un- 
 fortunately appreheiuled ; tlie law on tlie subject affords many 
 loopholes for the esca])e of its violators, and is always con- 
 strued in favour of the defendants. 
 
 In 1HH2 a jrentleman of my acquaintance rented a ])icce 
 of water near Cirojr Island and fished it faithfully for a week 
 without any result. Accounting for this on the ground of 
 drifters being about, he [)assed several nights watching on the 
 beach, devoured by nosipiitos and sand-flies, and drenched 
 with rain. His patience was at last rewarded by seeing two 
 log-canoes connng down o])posite him with a net covering the 
 stream between them. He waited till they were close by. 
 and then, sjmnging into his canoe with his Indians, gave 
 chase. The log-canoes immediately let go the net, and that 
 furthest distant disappeared in the darkness towards the o])po- 
 site shore. The other fied down stream, but was so vigorously 
 pursued that the men, seeing that they would be caught if 
 they kejjt on board, beached the canoe and took to the 
 woods, pursued by Mr. ^V., who was close behind and had 
 the ad\antage of not being blown by hard i)addling for a 
 mile. When after a short race one of the fugitives was 
 caught, he surrendered without resistance, and, on being led 
 back to the shore, was idcitified by Mr. A. and his Indians 
 as a neighbouring fanner and then let go. The abandoned 
 canoe was fouiul to coiitain eight salmon which had been 
 taken that night, and on these facts information was laid 
 next morning before a magistrate near Matapedia. He ap- 
 peared very zealous in the matter, and summoned the netter 
 
 
I' I'SAI.CJU I 1 C II IMJOI 
 lacllMlg liy I . .\. I'l.ATT. 
 
 ^ 
 

 Mil. M,' j i.i; I 
 'I / <-i<\ 311. ',: I 
 
i f ^ 
 
ii 
 
 I 
 i 
 
i 
 
 SALA[f)\. 68 
 
 to appear two days later. Mr. A., of course, had to be 
 piesent at that time, but when he reached the court of 
 justice he found neither the culprit nor his Honour. An 
 hoir's hunting discovered the latter, wlio inunediately post- 
 poned the trial for two days more. Mr. A. was promptly on 
 hand, but the defendant and magistrate were not; and the 
 latter, when unearthed, again put off" the trial, and promised 
 to have the drifter in court surely the next time. How- 
 ever, another delay occurred before the latter could spare the 
 time to appear. When he did come, all of Mr. A.'s evidence 
 against him was disregarded, the complaint dismissed in a 
 few well-chosen remarks by the magistrate, and Mr. A. in- 
 formed that, before leaving court, he would be obliged to 
 pay the costs of the proceedings, which, by reason of the 
 various postponements, amounted to several dollars. This 
 the disgusted IMr. A. forked over, amid the applause of the 
 country-side, assembled to see the discomfiture of the 
 stranger. 
 
 This was an extreme case, but shows well and truly the 
 trouble of convicting a native for illegal fisliing. The best 
 method of guarding is to have enough faithful men on the 
 water to frighten the drifters away — to cure the e\il by pre- 
 venting it. I think this is in the waj' of being effected by 
 having the caretaking of the whole river under the direction 
 of one head guardian, who is responsible to the representatives 
 of all the riparian owners for the faithful work of his subor- 
 dinates. The advantages of this scheme— which lus been now 
 in operation one year— are so great, that it will probably be 
 continued by the riparian owners in spite of having to guard 
 the waters of some who refuse to pay their share — not, of 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 -^ 
 
C4 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 course, in order to profit at the cost of others, but for various 
 other praiseworthy, conscientious, and convincing reasons ! 
 Such are always in full stock with this kind of people. 
 
 It is just as important to me— looking- beyond the present 
 season— tiiat a ])iece of water ten miles above mine should 
 luive no salmon taken illegally from it as that my own 
 should be protected, and any fish speared or netted above or 
 below me is so taken to my possible injury. If taken on the 
 spawning beds fitly miles up, I lose the chance of getting a 
 ris' out of him next year should he then come up from the sea. 
 — II does every angler in the river, saying nothing of the 
 
 loss ol p., iction in the fish, which his illegal deatli necessarily 
 entails. Every angler on a river has a certain potentiality 
 of property in every salmon that enters its mouth, and there- 
 fore the untimely taking off of the fish in any part of tiie 
 river, near or far from the little piece that he fishes, is just as 
 bad for his next season's sport as if it had been taken from 
 his own favou'^ite pool. Thus simply guarding one's own 
 water, and letting the protection of the tideway and spawning 
 grounds go because they are not near by, is not only selfish, 
 but extremely short-sighted as well. Still, there is never an 
 ojjportunity for shirking one's honest obligations which passes 
 unimproved; and those willing to let others preserve their 
 fishing are probably as few on the Ristigouche, proportionately, 
 as on any other river, though there are some shining 
 examples ! 
 
 There is a certain restrictive influence in the presence of 
 a good many anglers on the river which is felt by those dis- 
 posed to drifting; but after the 15th of August, when rod- 
 Hsiiing comes to an end, the river is almost at the mercy of 
 
 iK 
 
w 
 
 SALMON. 
 
 65 
 
 the settlers, and undoubtedly, in spite of the guardians, many 
 a winter fish-barrel is filled. Although the heavy run of 
 salmon takes place generally in June, and is followed by two 
 or three smaller ones up to the first ten days of Jidy, there 
 are some bright fresh fish coming up all through August. I 
 have taken them when angling was legal to 1st September 
 nearly up to that day ; and on the very last day of August 
 188G, my brother, who was at Camp Harmony, re})orted the 
 l)ool in front fuH of fresh fish. His son, a lad of twelve, got 
 one of theiii weighing nine pounds, on a very cheap and 
 light trout-rod, with twenty yards of line and a small coach- 
 man-fly, while fishing for trout near the shore. The boy had 
 never killed a salmon, and was almost scared to death when 
 this one took his fly and jumped high out of the water. 
 Aided by the advice of the Indian with him, who followed 
 the salmon down stream in the canoe for some distance, he 
 was finally landed, to the boundless delight of his young 
 captor. 
 
 The catch of salmon in the tideway-nets of the llisti- 
 gouche is very heavy, and in a good season it is not an 
 uncommon thing for a single stand to get from one hundred 
 to two hundred fish v)f a night. When the schools of salmon 
 enter the estuary they can be seen on the surface of the 
 water, moving in a wedge-shaped company, and each school 
 seems under the charge of a leader which appears to have a 
 knowledge, gained perhaps from previous experience, of how to 
 avoid the labyrinth of nets which beset the upward journey. 
 
 >Vhen these schools are seen approaching the fishermen 
 go out for the purpose of breaking their ranks and disorgan- 
 ising the fish. It is often very hard to do so, as they stub- 
 
 I 
 
66 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 bonily follow their leader, whether lie turns back to the sea 
 or continues up-stream. So long as the leader remains at the 
 head of the school it gets along without serious loss, and 
 avoids carefully the entanglements of the nets ; but once the 
 ranks are broken and the fish lose their master, they dash 
 wildly about, and of course many are taken. 
 
 It is but a few years since it was known that the Risti- 
 gouche salmon strike the shore of the Bay of Chaleurs a 
 good distance below the mouth of the river, and work their 
 way up along it. The nets near the river Chario, about forty 
 miles below Matapedia, have done as well as those in the 
 estua-y itself The Chario is of no account as a salmon 
 river, but the fish come there and have a smell of the fresh 
 wnter before ascending their native stream further on. Last 
 .hiae (1886) a large school followed the capelin into the 
 mouth of the Chario, and seemed disinclined to leave. For 
 three days they stayed about, and when they departed they 
 left in the fatal nets over one hundred thousand jwunds of 
 their relatives. The large catch of June last brought down 
 the price at Campbellton to three cents, per pound, which 
 is as low as before the railroad was built and the demand 
 for the fish was almost entirely local. That the great in- 
 crease in the salmon is due to protection and artificial 
 breeding, strange as it may seem, is vigorously denied by 
 most of the fishermen, settlers, and Indians. Any irregularity 
 in the migration, any imaginary change in the size of the 
 fish, and even the sn^uller number of trout in the river from 
 that of years ago -all are ascribed to the baleful influence 
 of the breeding establishment. 
 
 There are some facts in regard to the habits of salmon 
 
SALMON. 
 
 67 
 
 connected with their migration to fresli water about which I 
 think there is not uniformity in different rivers. The general 
 opinion is, or has been until lately, that the salmon visits his 
 native river every year after his first departure from it as a 
 smolt. 
 
 That this is true as to some rivers has been pretty 
 thoroughly established, but I don't see how it can be con- 
 sistent with what we know of others. There must, of course, 
 taking one year witii another, be a greater number of the 
 grilse of any river in existence vlian of the salmon of one 
 year. Most of the grilse escape the nets, and the immense 
 ratio of destruction, from various causes, which thins the ranks 
 of the salmon at sea and in fresh water, must make a heavy 
 reduction in a crop of fish from the time it seeks the river in 
 the grilse stag' to its appearance there as salmon. Neverthe- 
 less, so far as can be ascertained from all the observations yet 
 made, the number of grilse entering the Ristigouclie is far 
 below that of any one crop of salmon, — assuming that tlie 
 different principal runs of salmon are composed each of fish 
 of tlie same year. This is not so in some of the adjacent 
 rivers. In the Nepisseguit there are many more grilse than 
 salmon, which would seem to be the natural and proper order 
 of things. This is also the case with the Miramichi, in whicii 
 river the grilse begin running early in July, a small run of 
 salmon coming a little sooner, and are in the proportion of 
 six or seven grilse to one salmon. JNIr. John Mowat, who 
 has been for many years a careful and intelligent observer 
 of the salmon and its habits on the Ristigouclie, says 
 he has never found any but mule grilse in the river, 
 although for a long time he has been on the look-out for 
 
IP 
 
 I 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 it follows that the females must remain at sea if they don't 
 go up some other stream than their native one. 
 
 Following along imtil the next year, if all the fish ascended 
 the river, there should be in the llistigouche a larger quantity 
 of salmon from eight to twelve pounds weight than of those 
 from seventeen to twenty-three pounds, supposing the first to 
 be fish of four and the last of five years of age. This, how- 
 ever, is not the fact ; there are very few small fish that enter 
 the river in June. In July come the Upsalquitch salmon, 
 which ascend the llistigouche only as far as the mouth of 
 their own river, or a little above, and are caught in consider- 
 
 68 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 one of the other sex. For ten years I have examined all 
 of the grilse taken in our waters, and have not found 
 a female. Mowat says he believes that no female grilse 
 are taken in the Nepisseguit, where they are much more 
 plentiful, though salmon are relatively fewer. This would 
 justify the opinion, if no more, that in some rivers only the 
 males ascend in the grilse stage, and in certain of these but a 
 portion of the males. These male grilse have the power of 
 fertilising the ova of the adult salmon, and do so. If nature 
 gives to each sex an even proportion in numbers, and only 
 the males ascend the river in their grilse stage of existence, 
 
 Tt,L 
 
 I 
 
 In 
 
SALMON. 69 
 
 able quantities in the nets and by tlie anglers. They arc 
 nearly all small, from eight to twelve pounds, and are easily 
 distinguishable from the Ristigouche fish of the same size by 
 reason of their small heads, shorter, thicker-set bodies, and 
 darker-coh)ured backs. In July or August there is a rather 
 light run of small Kistigouche salmon with a rare big one 
 thrown in. These are of both sexes, and spawn mostly in the 
 lower part of the river : but the numbers of these probably four- 
 year-old fish are much fewer than those supposed from their 
 size to be a year older, and from six to eight pounds heavier. 
 
 Mowat says that in October, and early in November, when 
 ice has formed on some parts of the river, there is a run of 
 large fish ; that these spawn in the winter, and are the kelts 
 which descend to the sea late in May and early in June. 
 And as these kelts, if in good condition, would average larger 
 than even the first run of the preceding spring, it is not 
 unreasonable to suppose this to be so. I have never seen in 
 the early fishing any kelts small enough to supj)ose them to 
 be from the July or August run of salmon, and I think it 
 safe to assume that these large kelts which are the last to 
 come down are from a later run of salmon tlian those the 
 angler comes across. The angling ceases on the 15th of August 
 by law, and the nets are up some time before that. It is 
 well known there is a rim of large sea-trout in the river with 
 the first ice in November ; they are caught freely through the 
 ice with bait, and the roe in the females is very slightly 
 developed. 
 
 From the facts and observations above noted I have 
 derived the following conclusions to apply to the Histi- 
 gouche : — 
 
^i^ 
 
 r 
 
 70 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATEllS, 
 
 First.— That the females, as grilse, remain in the sea. 
 
 Second.— That not all the male grilse come up the river, 
 nor so large a proportion of them as in some other rivers— the 
 Nepissegiiit for example. 
 
 Third.— That less than half the salmon of both sexes in their 
 fourth year, and weighing from eight to twelve pounds make 
 the migration to fresh water, and consequently do not breed. 
 
 If my premises are correct, the only way of disproving 
 my third conclusion is by assuming that the fish of from 
 seventeen to twenty-five pounds, as well as the smaller ones, 
 are the result of one year's growth from the grilse stage, and 
 that their little companions are the runts of the species, which, 
 from various causes, have been prevented from attaining their 
 normal growth. 
 
 The average size of the Cascapedia salmon is greater than 
 that of the Ristigouche, and the llomaine (North Shore) fish 
 are still larger. 
 
 I do not know enough about the various nms, during the 
 season, of the fish in these rivers to assert that the same dis- 
 proportion of grilse and small salmon exists as does in the 
 Ristigouche, although I believe such to be the fact. Certainly 
 in the last-named river the varying comparative (quantities of 
 fish of different ages cannot be explained consistently with 
 the theory of an amuial migration to fresh water of all salmon. 
 
 Since writing the above in my note-book, nearly two 
 years since, I have read what ISIr. Frank Buckland says on 
 the same subject in Volume I., third series, of his Curiosities 
 of Natural Histoi-y. It is this — 
 
 'My own faith as regards tills curious question is that some of the 
 sniolts stay one year in the sea, some stay two years and possibly more. . . . 
 
1 
 
 SALMON. 
 
 71 
 
 It appears to be a law of nature timt tlie salmon (say in nn individual river) 
 sliull never be all together at the same tirie, and this us a ])r(>teetion against 
 their numerous enemies, animate and inanimate. To take the ca,se of smolts 
 alone — supposing the smolts going down the Galway river in the s))ring of 
 186-i were all in a fit condition to come uj) from tlie sea in 18(j5, it is 
 possible that some cause or other might destroy them all, and tiuis the whole 
 produce of one breeding season be lost to the river. Nature, however, seems 
 therefore to say — " I will send some of you youngsters up the river in 1865, 
 and some of you shall stay in the sea until 18(56, so that if the first lot of 
 you get tlestroyed there will be a second batch on hand to take your place 
 and keep up the supply in the river for future years." ' 
 
 This is the first hint I find of the idea of a divided 
 migration of sahnon, though it had not escaped tiie atten- 
 tion of Mr. Cholmondeley Pennell as early as 1803. He 
 now puts it down in No. 10 of liis ' Proved Facts ' in the 
 history of the salmon, so far only as a portion of the smolts 
 returning to fresh water as grilse is concerned ; and in his 
 recently-published Sporting Fish of Great Britain he says 
 that— 
 
 'The principle of a divided migration is not confined to the parrs on 
 going to the sea, or to the smolts on their return from it — some as grilse and 
 some as spring salmon — but it also extends to the old and adult fish after 
 spawning, one portion of the latter coming back into the rivers during tb-; 
 following summer, and the rest not until the sjjring succeeding it ; in other 
 words (and this is the gist of the whole), that at least a proportion of 
 salmon spawn only on every alternate year.' 
 
 While INIr. Pennell's ' Proved Facts ' are undoubtedly the 
 sum of what is positively known about salmon, and a most 
 valuable condensation for every one interested in their habits, 
 I think that in one of the facts (Xo. 7) a modification siiould 
 be made for the Ristigouche, if for no other American river. 
 Mr. Pennell says— ' Unless the y-u i ;. fish put on their smolt 
 dress in Muy or early in June, and thereupon go down to 
 the sea, they remain as parrs another year.' 
 
 A'. 
 
w^^m 
 
 I 
 
 n 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 The difference between tlie seasons here and in the Hritisli 
 Isles probably accounts for this not always beinj^ a fact in 
 this country. I have never seen in the Uistigouche a young 
 fish, in its silvery coat, ready to migrate "arlier than the t''"+h 
 of July— and they are not at all plentifid even at the ei 
 that month; nor have I ever heard of any being seen in 
 May or June. The parr begin taking the fly actively about 
 the middle of June in an ordinarily forward season, and after 
 the middle of July, and through August, some smolt-^ are 
 ca])tured, but not in such numbers as their young brethren. 
 In the latter, throughout the fishing season, tiiere is a con- 
 siderable variation in size — those in the Upsalquitch will 
 average smaller, but more uniform in size than the smolts of 
 the main river. 
 
 It is my opinion, from the data I have been able to get 
 together on this subject, that the greater part of the s'' i 
 of the Ristisrouche and its tributaries make their first r 
 tion to the sea early in the autumn, and that very few of 
 them return to the river at all as grilse, but, as in ' Proved 
 Facts,' No. 10, * remain nine or ten months in the sea and return 
 the next ' summer, instead of ♦ spring,' as small-sized salmon. 
 In some other Canadian rivers the rule does not hold good, 
 a large run of grilse ascending along with the first salmon. 
 
 It is known that female grilse ascend and breed in 
 certain of the British rivers,— if not, indeed, in all of them 
 where observations have been made. That renders the fact— 
 if fact it is— that only male grilse go up the Uistigouche, of 
 a good deal of value. In supjjort of it I have the evidence 
 of John Mowat, as mentioned above, with whom I have 
 often talked on the subject, and my own observations con- 
 
 I 
 

 SALMON. 
 
 T3 
 
 tinned for several years. It is fair to say that alllionj^h 
 I liavo never known a t'enmle jfrilse to I>e taken on the 
 Uistif>«)nehe, these tish are so tew there that some seasons 
 tliere iiave not been more than two or three oanj^lit on oiir 
 waters, and, I tliink, never more than six or eijfht durinjf my 
 stay on the river any season. 
 
 Ue;.,nirdinj>- tlie winter s|)awiiers— from the run whieli Mowat 
 insists takes place late in the autumn, and which, I think, 
 accounts for the June kelts— I find, on lookinj? over my notes, 
 tiiat these kelts are often taken up to three and a half feet in 
 lenf>-th. I have a memorandum of two I got one .June some- 
 what loiiffer. This should be etpial to seasonable fish of near 
 forty pounds weijfht, the lenjfth of one of forty-two pounds, 
 of which 1 have the diuicnsions, being a trifle over forty- 
 six inches. 
 
 A large ])ortion of those that are caught are fatally 
 wounded by the gaff", as it is iiard to get them without 
 using it, and they generally hook themselves very firmly. 
 Some years they are in great abundance, and I have known 
 twelve taken from a small pool near the Upsalquitch in one 
 morning. A few days after the clean fish begin running the 
 kelts disappear, and it is seldom one is seen after the 2atli 
 of June. If these fisii are of the late autumn run they 
 have a fine chance at the river, coming up when there are 
 no nets to catch them, and being protected all winter by 
 the ice. Jaccpies ^'icaire irisists that he saw a salmon of 
 seventeen pounds, very bright and fat, taken at tide-hciid, 
 through the ice, by a man who was fishing for trout about 
 Christmas. This I believe, as the story was corroborated by 
 other Indians who saw the fish. 
 
 K 
 
n 
 
 FISHING IN ( ANADIAN WATF.US. 
 
 M'S" 
 
 The question of salmon feeding in fresh water lias had 
 a j^reat deal said and written on both sides, and, in this 
 country especially, where observations have been nnich more 
 limited than abroad, it is tlie generally accepted idea that 
 salmon do not feed after entering fresh water. 'I'he fly, which 
 is the only means used by the angler for taking them, they 
 are supposed tt> rise to in wanton ])layfidness, or with the 'dea 
 that its varied colours resemble those of the shrimj) or some 
 other of the small marine creatures they ]>ursue. This view 
 is sustained by the fact that there are very (ew well authen- 
 ticated instances of any food being found in the stomach 
 of a salmon. In the Hritish Isles, where the angler nses 
 other lures than those of the Hy-hook, the belief is stronger 
 in the tendency of the fish to gratify his ap])etitc, to some 
 some extent at least, during his absence from the sea. 
 
 In the Lakes of Killarney he is taken with a ))hantom 
 minnow, and in many other of the Hritish lakes and rivers 
 he bites freely at the w(»rm. the eel-tail, the spinning 
 nMunow, and the shrimp. AVith three of these baits I have 
 taken myself, and seen taken, many salmon in the (lalway 
 river, and I don t believe any one who has seen a real well- 
 meaning tish go for his shrimi) on that part of the water 
 just below Wc'w Cottage which Nicholas Hroun used to 
 call the ' resarve." could doubt that he had serious intentions 
 of eating it. 
 
 Most of the writers on angling devote considerable space 
 to salmon-fishing witii ' the great red wormcs in Field or 
 Garvlen bred.' Taylor, in AniiTnifj; itiitl a!! its liniiivlics, says 
 '!t is veiy remarkable that though a salmt)n shall be taken 
 in the very act of chasing and catching the small fry, yet, on 
 
SALMON. 
 
 76 
 
 opening it, notliinff of tiiat nature will be found therein.' 
 He also reconnucuds worm - Hsliing, especially 'when the 
 water is too thick for the tly, or the day is bright, little .t 
 no wind stirring, and the water so clear that the tisb can 
 discern the deception of the artificial fly." Mollat, in Scarts 
 ()/' Aiiffli/iff, says. 'Salmon will take niimiow, parr-tail, and 
 worms very freely in certain states of the Avaler.' 
 
 Authorities could be tjuotcd indefinitely in proof of sahnon 
 taking bait of various kinds; and in olden times ointnujits 
 were rtonunended for making baits for all Hsh especially 
 attractive. One o^' these, and not the most curious, is men- 
 tioned in T/ic Coiiiph'tc Fisher, by .1. S., and is 'iMui's fat 
 and the fat of the thigh-bone of a Heron, which makes an 
 Ointment that rarely fails, and is esteemed by those that 
 have tried it the best of any, being a new Experiment' 
 
 Sir \V. .lardine tells of a salmoi\ in the Tweed taking the 
 liook and tackle of an angler fishing with worms, who put on 
 a new set and killed a salmon with the former iiooks and 
 baits in its jaws ; and this instance of voracity undiminished by 
 pain is matched by an instance narrated by Mr. IVnnell, of a 
 salmon taking two shrimp baits, 'the second when actually 
 beaten, and just coming under tlie gaff.' I have ki'own t)ne 
 instance myself of a salmon which had been liooked on a Hy, 
 played for a fev moments, and then lost, being again hooked 
 five minutes later and landed, the proof of its being the 
 same salmon showing in the bleeding mark on the upper jaw 
 where the fly had torn out the first time. 
 
 In 1883 a friend of mine took, in the rpsahpiitch I'ool, 
 a salmon of twenly-three poumls with a '.lock Scott' fly 
 ind)edded in his jaw, and a yard of gut allached. He had, in 
 
76 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 addition to this, a deep open gaff wound in his shoulder. We 
 found, by inquiring, that the fly behinged to a geiitleman 
 fishing some water lialf-a-niile below us; that he had hooked 
 the salmon at ten o'clock the morning before, and lost him 
 after he was nearly dragged ashore with, the gaff. It would 
 seem as though the j)angs of hunge'- drove this fish, sore and 
 sorry as he must have been, to the second trial. 
 
 Anybody angling in rivers that are nett it the mouth, 
 nmst have noticed that tlie fish which have oeen in the nets 
 will take the fly much quicker than their companions which 
 ran the gauntlet unscathed. My explanation of this is, that 
 as the wounded fish reach the state of convalescence their 
 appetite becomes strong, and the needs of their systems to 
 make up for the waste caused by tiieir injuries excite them to 
 extraordinary exertions to appease it. 
 
 I have not the slightest doubt that salmon feed in fresh 
 water, although they cannot require anything like the quantity 
 of food they do at sea. Indeed, a river like the Ristigouche 
 would not yield enough to sustain the salmon that lonie up 
 it were they all bent on eating their fill, and certainly those 
 confined in the breeding pond for months get nothing, and 
 keep their condition about as well as the free fish. The fact 
 of nothing being fomul in the stomachs of those taken is got 
 over by the a])plication of two theories, both stated by Mr. 
 liuckland as follows: — 'The gastric juice oi' the salmon is so 
 higldy solvent of animal matter that digestion goes on very 
 raj)idly, and hence actual food is rarely found in their 
 stomadis.' This (h)es not seem nearly so ])lausiblc as the 
 second theory, which I (|uote :- -' Many birds, especially car- 
 nivorous, have the power of emptying their stomachs by 
 
 ^ 
 
 J. 
 
SALMON. 77 
 
 vomiting wlien diuiger is near, and their activity is to be called 
 into play. Is it not possible that salmon too may have the 
 power of ejecting their food when they find themselves in 
 trouble by hook or net ? ' 
 
 Mr. Pennell quotes on this subject from Once a Week : — 
 ' My friend, Mr. Walter Campbell of Islay, informs me that he 
 once had a wonderful haul of salmon at Islay, in an estuary 
 of the sea : he landed seven hundred and sixteen, and many 
 of them escaped. As the net ajjjiroached the shore he saw 
 the fish discharging the contents of their stomachs, which con- 
 sisted of young eels.' 
 
 The same propensity is mentioned in WiUiamson's Com- 
 plete Anglers Fade Mecum, 1808, which says: 'The salmon 
 is very pecidiar among fishes in one particular, viz., so soon 
 as hooked or netted, it instantly empties its maw, in which 
 nothing is ever found.' 
 
 It is a great deal more reasonable to suppose that salmon 
 feed, and eject their food Avhen in trouble, than that they 
 never feed at all in the rivers. I have seen a fly more than 
 once well down towards the stomach of a salmon, far enough 
 to show beyond doubt that he meant to swallow it ; and that 
 such an insatiable feeder as lie is known to be at sea and in 
 the estuaries should diange his whole nature in a few hours 
 is absurd. His appetite may diminish by degrees as he re- 
 mains in fresh water, but that he takes an occasional meal 
 up to the time of spawning is pretty certain. 
 
 A salmon, like a trout, will often rise at a fly, and even 
 get hooked without seeming to come at it with a fury born 
 of ravenous hunger ; but the dashes he sometimes makes are 
 altogether too savage for i)lay, and not unfrequently miss, 
 
V" 
 
 r 
 
 4 
 
 78 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 plainly from over-eagerness. I have seen a fish turn and 
 follow the fly, which had been drawn away ten yards, show- 
 ing, j/urt of the distance, on top of the water, and seize it as 
 a tiger would his prey. This is different from the manner in 
 which he, as well as other surface-feeding fish, will at times 
 coquet with the fly, rising near it, and even jumping over it, 
 evidently with no other idea than that of amusement. That 
 the salmon, as many think, take the fly on account of a 
 fancied resemblance it bears to some of the small sea creatures 
 on Avhich they feed, is to me hardly reasonable. At any rate, 
 as against this theory, is the fact that trout and parr which 
 have never seen salt water will take these same flies, some of 
 which resemble no insect that is known. Many of the flies 
 do resemble, and some of them very strongly, certain insects, 
 and look altogether differently when wet and in the water 
 from what they do when dry. The 'Jock Scott,' for instance — 
 an excellent fly on the Ristigouche — when dry has a very 
 gaudy appearance ; wet it, and it will be seen to have quite 
 a different and sober effect. AVhen worked in the water 
 aspects vary, as the fibres of which it is composed are moved 
 by the wavering motion of the rod. Then it shows alter- 
 nate effects of plainness and brightness, but the latter not 
 nearly so marked as would be supposed from looking at the 
 drv fly. I do not consider it at all sure, however, that it 
 would not kill just as well, most of the time, if allowed to go 
 down with the current not worked at all, Some anglers I 
 know adopt this course and are successful i i it; and I think a 
 large proportion of fish take the fly when 'iv: wings and hackles 
 are not distended by the action of the water, ';ut rather 
 when it is going down slower than the current, and conse- 
 
 
SALMON. 
 
 79 
 
 i 
 
 quently all the feathers are lying close against the hook. In 
 such a position it looks like a dead fiy, and in the case of 
 the 'Jock Scott,' like one which frequents the Ristigouche. 
 
 The 'Durham Ranger' resembles very strongly the black 
 and red buttei-Hy, which is very frecjuent in Canadian rivers, 
 and other killing flies are like certain known insects. The 
 wingless flies, with heavy hackles, resembling caterpillars and 
 grubs, have been successfully used to take salmon; and this 
 brings me to a thoroughly well authenticated case which 
 happened in August 1886 of a salmon which omitted the 
 performance of discharging the contents of his stomach before 
 he was landed. It occurred on the Upsalquitch, and about 
 thirty miles up that river. The fish was taken with a fly by 
 a young friend of mine, who was ou a bear-hunting expedi- 
 tion, and fished merely to get something to eat, as bears were 
 not plentitul enough to keep the larder furnished. On opening 
 the salmon he was found to have in his stomach half a hand- 
 ful of worms and grubs of diff'erent sizes— the latter being such 
 as were found on the branches of bushes overhanging the 
 stream. Being aware of the importance of this discovery in a 
 clean fish, his captor and the man he had with him — one 
 Harris, a settler on the Upsahpiitch— examined the mass care- 
 fully, and noted several of the grubs which had apparently 
 been in the fish's stomach but a very short time, and both 
 agreed in the statement abt)ve. I think it not unsafe to 
 conclude that salmon take the fly for the purpose of eating 
 it; and though their appetite in fresh water is capricious, 
 it is on occasions indulged. Nature, however, by reason 
 of many of the salmon rivers containing insufficient food for 
 the vast numbers which ascend or once did ascend them, has 
 
80 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 given the salmon a power of abstinence from food for months 
 witliout any resulting injury, and enabled him to go hungry 
 a long time without any perceptible loss of condition. I saw 
 last summer the proof of this in a visit I made to the 
 breeding-pond. 
 
 This i)ond is situated on an island a few miles below 
 ]Mata])edia. Through this island, Avhicii is perhaps 150 acres 
 in extent, a small branch of the river runs. This has been 
 dammed at both ends and provided with gratings, which 
 prevent the escape of tiie confined fish but not the natural 
 flow of the current. It is, of course, impossible for the fish 
 to get any food ; and though they have often been tried with 
 the fly they have never responded by rising, though their 
 condition a])pears exceUent. In that part of the stream be- 
 tween the gratings, which is about one hundred and fifty 
 yards in length, there are anchored several rafts covered 
 with brushwood, under which the salmon find shelter from the 
 lieat of the sun. Two large nets at the foot of the island are 
 set by the Government for the purjwse of taking fish to be 
 put in the pond ; but it is suspected that only a small propor- 
 tion of those captured find their way there, the permission to 
 dispose otherwise of those injured in the nets afflortUng a very 
 large discretion to the officials in charge. At the time of our 
 visit, the last of July, there were three hundred and fifty 
 salmon in the pond — so we were told. We thought one 
 hundred nearer the truth. A number, however, may have 
 remained under the rafts, though a heavy stone thrown on 
 them appeared to scare out all tiie fish. There were a good 
 many large salmon, I should judge in the neighbourhood of 
 thirty pounds, and few that appeared below twenty ])ounds. 
 
T 
 
 SALMON. 
 
 81 
 
 Several that had been blinded by the nets were there, 
 and the appearance of those that had been longest in the 
 pond was exactly as if they had been covered with black 
 velvet ; those which had been put in more recently varied 
 in colour down to a medium shade of brown, but the pecu- 
 liar velvety look Avas apparent in all whicli had lost their 
 eyes. This change of colour and texture of skin must begin 
 very soon after the destruction of the sight, as I have seen 
 it in salmon the eyes of wliicli I should judge had not been 
 gone more than two or three days, the inflammation still 
 very active, and the unhealed cuts of the net-twine plainly 
 to be seen. 
 
 No year passes that our men do not gaff" one or more of 
 these blind salmon, which are often seen near the shore, where 
 the others do not go. They are taken fifty or sixty miles up 
 the river, and their blindness causes no apparent loss of con- 
 dition. Those so affected in the ponds, some of which had 
 been there two months, were as active and plump as any of 
 the others. 
 
 When the confined fish are ready to spawn, the roe is 
 expressed and ready to fertilise, and the spent salmon replaced 
 in the river. The settlers, who have an unaccountable anti- 
 pathy to fish-breetling, say that all of these die very soon. If 
 properly handled such cannot be the case ; and even if it 
 were, the advantages of artificial propagation are so remark- 
 able and manifest that they far outweigh the yeariy loss of a 
 few hundred breeding fish. 
 
 The Government has built at Dee-side — the name of 
 Mowat's place — three miles above the Upsalquitch, a breeding- 
 house, where the fertilised ova are taken and hatched, and 
 
 L 
 
.1 
 
 Ml 
 
 1^ 
 
 82 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 the fry, when old enough, distributed in various parts of 
 the river. This distribution is made through June and 
 July, the young fish being towed up-stream in cans placed 
 behind scows. I have sometimes seen a can-full of the 
 little fellows emptied out in the shallows near the banks 
 of the river, and the quickness with which they seek 
 shelter, and in an instant disappear from view, is aston- 
 ishing. They appear not to have lost, by their season of 
 
 7 
 
 
 ^) 
 
 security in the breeding -house, the instinctive knowledge 
 that the river is full of deadly enemies, which only 
 excessive caution and watchfulness will enable them to 
 confound. That even a scanty proportion of these multi- 
 tudes of fry, naturally and artificially bred, escape the 
 perils of the river and sea long enough to get back finally to 
 the resorts of their youth as fidl-grown salmon, seems more a 
 direct interposition of Providence than do the faith-cures and 
 miracles at Saints' shrines that we read about. Their 
 
 I 
 
 ■ _-?lL»-««*HIti 
 
SALMON. 
 
 8:5 
 
 ^ 
 
 struggles for existence were entirely unappreciated by the 
 j)oet who wrote — 
 
 ' oh could'st thou see how huppy live 
 The little fish below, 
 Thyself beneath the Hood would'st divi-, 
 And bliss for ever know.' 
 
 Ai„ ii_..i. 
 
 f* $ I tt 
 
 .<l8UOH /. 1/ V/UM 
 
 uii ueiiig suuueniy transterrea trom the safety of tlie breetling- 
 liouse, as those which hatch under natural conditions. Prob- 
 ably a far greater proportion of the artificially - bred ones 
 perish after being put in the river than of those which first 
 see the light there. Withal, there are now many more adult 
 salmon ascending the Ilistigouche yearly than at the time Mr. 
 Perley's report was made, when the nets from the New Bruns- 
 wick and Canadian sides overlapped each other, and drifting 
 
 I. 2 
 
 I 
 
 A 
 
8S 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 the fry, when old enough, distributed in various parts of 
 the river. This distribution is made through June and 
 July, the young fish being towed up-stream in cans placed 
 behind scows. I have sometimes seen a can-full of the 
 little fellows emptied out in the shallows near the banks 
 t>f the river, and the quickness with which they seek 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 MOW ATS HOUSE 
 Kichini; In- Mrs. A. I.ka Mh.kkht. 
 
 that the river is full of deadly enemies, wnicii umy 
 excessive caution and watchfulness will enable them to 
 confound. That even a scanty proportion of these multi- 
 tudes of fry, natiu-ally and artificially bred, escape the 
 perils of the river and sea long enough to get back finally to 
 the resorts of their youth as full-grown salmon, seems more a 
 direct interposition of Providence than do the faith-cures and 
 miracles at Saints' shrines that we read about. Their 
 
 li 
 
 \ 
 
SALMON. 
 
 >s;j 
 
 struggles for existence were entirely iiiiappreciuted by the 
 poet who wrote— 
 
 ' oh coiild'st thou see Iidw happy live 
 The little fish below, 
 Thyself benenth the flood wmild'st dive, 
 And bliss forever know.' 
 
 In Mr. Perley's Report of the Sm and River Fisheries of 
 S^eiv linmsii'ich, 1849-51, he states that a great cause of the 
 destruction to the fish is the towing up the llistigouche, in 
 the autmnn, of supplies for the various hnnbering camps 
 situated near the head waters. The upj)er part of the river is, 
 of course, quite shallow on the bars and flats, and these, un- 
 fortunately for them, are the favourite spawning -grounds of 
 the salmon. The heavily-laden scows, drawn often by four 
 and six horses, go through these places, and great quantities 
 of the spawn already deposited are thus trampled up, de- 
 stroyed, or washed away. This kind of destruction has been 
 going on ever since, and of course cannot be stopped, though 
 it is remedied by the establishment of artificial breedini>-. 
 
 It is (piestionable, however, if the fry turned loose in the 
 river, des])ite their instinctive avoidance of danger, are as well 
 able to take care of themselves and find the food they need, 
 on being suddenly transferred from the safety of the breeding- 
 house, as those which hatch under natural conditions. Prob- 
 ably a far greater proportion of the artificially - bred ones 
 perisli after being put in the river than of those which first 
 see the light there. Withal, there are now many more adult 
 salmon ascending the llistigouche yeariy than at the time Mr. 
 Perley's report was made, when the nets from tiie \ew Bruns- 
 wick and Canadian sides overiapped each other, and drifting 
 
 L 2 
 
mx- 
 
 84 
 
 lISIIINd IN (ANADIAN W ATKHS 
 
 and spearing over t|ie sjiawnin^j; - beds was ("penly practised. 
 Mr. I'erley also states, what I liave lieard in late years, tliat 
 the Hrst sahnon which enter the river every season are ahnost 
 invariably females. These fish are very large, and will rarely 
 take a Hy until they reach their homes well up towards the 
 top of the river. Fish are taken at Indian-house and above 
 in numbers before any are taken lower down, and these 
 salmon must travel right along without making sto))s of any 
 duration. 
 
 „ «.' 
 
 ^xprrtar Dum tirfluat mwm. 
 
i 
 
 CHAPTEK V 
 
 A mill, that fjoctli to tlii' Itiver (or his iilcnsurc 
 must iiiKlcrstaiul wlii'ii he gottli tliert; to set lortli his 
 Tackles. Tin- first thing hu must do is to observe 
 the Sun, the Wind, the Moon, the Starres, and tho 
 Wanes of the air, to set forth his Tackles according 
 to the times and Seasons, to gne for his pleasure and 
 some profit. 
 
 Rmikku's .//•/ ()/' Analiiia, Ki.'i.'t. 
 
 That pleasure which is most comely, most honest, and 
 giveth the most libcrtie to Divine meditation, and that 
 without all question is the Art of Angling; which, hav- 
 ing ever beene most hurtlessly necessary, hath becne 
 the sport or recreation of GOD'S Saints, of most holy 
 Fathers, and of many worthy and reverend Devines, 
 both dead and at this moment breathing. 
 
 The P/ni.iiiirs of I'riiirci, or (liiod Mi'ii'k 
 liirniitiiiiix. Kill. 
 
\% 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
 t 
 
T 
 
 fish if it is made in spite of a weak and badly-balanced rod, 
 a poor reel, and a short supply of line. Still, nobody would 
 willingly set out thus equipped to take his diversion on a 
 salmon river. 
 
 The rod is about the most important part of the outfit, 
 and a man bent on getting the very best one might easily 
 
 HiMil 
 
r 
 
 V. 
 
 '» 
 
 \ 
 
 N. ^ 
 
TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT 
 
 HE requisites for success in salmon- 
 fishing I should enumerate in the 
 following order:— 
 
 1st. To be where there are fish. 
 2d. Angling with proper tackle. 
 3d. Industry and perseverance in 
 using it 
 
 4th. Skill in knowing when and where to angle, in cast- 
 ing, and in handling the fish after they are hooked. Of 
 course the first condition must exist to make the employ- 
 ment of the others possible. The second is necessary for 
 the pleasure as well as for the fortunes of the angler, though 
 there is undoubtedly an added zest in the capture of a good 
 fish if it is made in spite of a weak and badly-balanced rod, 
 a poor reel, and a short supply of line. Still, nobody would 
 willingly set out thus equipped to take his diversion on a 
 salmon river. 
 
 The rod is about the most important part of the outfit, 
 and a man bent on getting the very best one niigiit easily 
 
 i 
 
8R 
 
 riSIIING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 be puzzled as to which make he should patronise. The 
 iVmericau split bamboo is tiie most expensive, and as long as 
 it holds together is as deligiitful a rod for casting either a 
 long or short line and kilHng a fish as can be found. It is 
 (piicker in recovery than any rod I have ever handled, and 
 retains its straightness and springiness far better than rods of 
 which each joint is made from a single piece of wood. It is 
 probable that tliese rods, if taken as much care of as a fine 
 gun, will last as long as others ; but my experience with 
 several of them has been unfortunate, and I have given up 
 their use. The wood ajjpears to become, after a year or two, 
 brittle about the joints, and will break short off tliere on very 
 slight provocation, and with no warning. Proper care and 
 attention would perhaps keep these weak tendencies from 
 showing themselves ; but a salmon rod should not take harm 
 by being exposed to the weather without care for a few weeks 
 of each year. 
 
 There are two men in St. .John, N. IJ., who can make 
 good rods, Scribner and Haillie ; both affect the three- 
 length spliced ones constructed of greenheart, and one of 
 the best of either of these makes will do good service for 
 years. I lia\c a Scribner rod that I have used more or Irss 
 for thirteen seasons, which is as good as ever — though not 
 nearly perfect to cast with — and will probably last as long as 
 I do. Haillie makes a lighter rod, a modification of the 
 ' Castle Council ' ])attern. It casts easily and with accuracy, 
 and is delightful to handle a fish. A friend of mine has one 
 of these rods but fifteen feet in length, v/hich he has used 
 for six years, and likes it better than any he owns. He has 
 killed many heavy salmon with it, half-a-dozen above tiiirty 
 
 'AJ?%, 
 
TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 8f) 
 
 pounds, and says it brings them ashore as quickly as a much 
 heavier rod. BaiUie charges one dollar a foot in length for 
 these rods, and gives two second joints and two tips. They 
 are not all equal to the one I have mentioned. 
 
 Forrest of Kelso, Scotland, probably furnishes more rods 
 for American anglers than any other maker, and they are 
 good and not extravagant in price. Several of the Canadian 
 dealers keep them in stock, and no American maker has yet 
 produced anything equal to them in quality and cheapness. 
 One of Forrest's sixteen-foot rods is, in my opinion, strong 
 enough to cast for and kill any salmon that swims in the 
 llistigouche or anywhere else, and many are used still shorter 
 than this, down to fifteen feet. Sixteen feet, or even seventeen 
 for a large strong man, I should prefer ; but certainly there is 
 no sense in having extra weight that is useless ; and the man 
 of ordinary strength will find that he gets as many fish with 
 a sixteen-foot rod in all kinds of water as with a larger and 
 heavier one, and will do so with much more comfort to him- 
 self As to the relative merits of jointed and spliced rods, if 
 a jointed one could be invented without making the weak 
 spots at the points of junction, then I should declare at once 
 against the spliced article. I don't think the joints interfere 
 sensibly with the action of the rod in casting or playing a 
 fish, and are so much easier put up, taken apart, and carried 
 about than the spliced joints, as to give them great advantage, 
 especially to anglers who often change their ((uarters. A spliced 
 rod properly ])ut together is stronger at the points of junction 
 than anywhere else, and I have never known one to break 
 there. A good one has, I think, more durability than a good 
 jointed rod, as the strain is borne more equally tliroughout, 
 
i 
 
 90 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 and the wood is not weakened by tlie metal fittings, which 
 must be the case to a greater or less degree in a jointed rod. 
 However, one of either kind made by a man who thoroughly 
 understands his business, and adapted to its owner, is a 
 deliglitful thing to handle. 
 
 I have found a good reel much harder to get than a good 
 rod. The reel, especially in fishing from a canoe, has more 
 work than tiie rod, besides having to bear it on some rather 
 sensitive machinery which cannot be seen, and may become 
 far gone towards uselessness without the angler's knowledge. 
 Probably the best iVmerican reels are equal to any in strength 
 and durability, but they are so expensive (costing from thirty 
 to forty-five dollars) as to make it seem almost a sin to use 
 them. Of those that Forrest has sent over, costing about 
 ten dollars, some are very good, but more are not, and after 
 one or two seasons are unreliable. The same is true of most 
 of the foreign reels which find their way to this coiuitry. 
 The JNIalloch reel, which I saw for the first time last season, 
 appears in its construction to possess more advantages than 
 any I have before knoAvn of By an ingenious and simple 
 mechanical arrangement the handle does not turn when the 
 line is going out, the advantage of which is at once manifest 
 to any angler. I think it an excellent invention, and the 
 principle is likely to supersede that of the reel now generally 
 used. One frequent cause of brass and gutta-percha reels 
 clogging is the heat of the sun on them, and in such cases 
 plunging them in the water at the first symptom will make 
 them run all right. It is a simple remedy, and can easily 
 be tried. I think a very easy-running reel is better than 
 a very stiff one. Although the former is liable to overrun. 
 
 *^, 
 
 J 
 
 ni 
 
TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 91 
 
 1 
 
 •1 
 
 tliis can be prevented by liolding the rod well back when a 
 fish is on, or controlling the action by putting the thumb 
 against the line on the reel. This is somewhat dangerous, 
 and holding up the rod should be first tried. A very stiff- 
 running reel is often the means of losing fish, the hold of 
 the lightly-hooked ones coming out by the hard jerk required 
 to start the reel, or — the same thing — breaking a casting-line 
 which would stand all the steady puUing necessary. On a 
 narrow reel the line is more apt to become clogged by one 
 layer slipping under another that has been wound on before 
 it, and consequently catching when the angler or a fish tries 
 to pull it out. A reel of two inches in line-carrying width, 
 and four to four and a half inches in diameter, seems to be 
 the most desirable size. 
 
 As to the line, its size for easy fishing must be 
 adapted to the rod. The American braided and waterproof- 
 dressed silk line, I am proud to say, is unsurpassed by 
 any foreign production, and is not dear, being, I think, 
 eight cents per yard. Thirty or forty yards is enough, 
 having it spliced to a thin Cuttyhunk bass-line of one 
 hundred yards more. This is not half the size of the salmon- 
 Une, is strong and hght, and its difference in weight is a 
 great advantage to the angler when the fish takes a long run. 
 Casting-lines are harder to get of good quality every 
 year. On the Ristigouche the first run of fish would, I 
 tliink, take flies tied to the end of the silken line— at any 
 rate treble gut does not frighten them in the least. Later 
 in the season, when the water grows clear, single gut should 
 be used — at least near the fly. Except in very low water a 
 nine-feet casting-line, the upper half of double and the lower 
 
0a 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 of single gut, answers as well, and is cheaper and more reliable 
 than the same length of single gut. Gut links are better 
 to use between the fly and the casting-line than to have the 
 loop at the end of the latter fastened to that on the fly. 
 Besides the greater neatness, the casting-line loop will last 
 much longer with a link between it and the fly, as the 
 frequent changing of flies, tightly fixed, frays and weakens 
 it to an extent that renders it unsafe after a few days' use. 
 With a link, however, between the fly and the casting-line, 
 one of the latter will last a long time. I killed in the season 
 of 188G over thirty fish on a casting-line of single gut, 
 attached to another half single and half double, without doing 
 it any perceptible injury. 
 
 Continuous industry, properly directed, is as certain of 
 success in salmon fishing as it is in other walks of life. If 
 the water controlled by an angler consists of one small pool, or 
 a part of one, he may, of course, work it so hard as to defeat 
 his own object; but when he has plenty of water and wishes 
 to make a score, the way to do so is to keep at work in spite 
 of fatigue and discouragement. The capriciousness of salmon 
 is such, that while they may not look at a fly in one pool, 
 they may, at the same time, rise freely in another and poorer 
 one half-a-mile distant ; and even when a piece of water has 
 been fished to the foot carefully, and without result, a try at 
 the head of it again may find the fish in the humour of 
 rising. As Jacques is wont to remark anent this subject, 
 ' When salmon don't want fly he see you an' me at de debbil 
 first afore he take it, but den he jes' take notion all of a 
 sudden an' take fly right off", dam quick, no trouble ! ' A 
 few years ago, when all the salmon we were taking in the 
 
 ■I.! 
 
11 
 
 IHIC KIKST CAST 
 ICtcliing by II. Sandiiam. 
 
 1 
 
4 
 
kf 
 
 
TACKLE AM) HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 ge 
 
 Camp Tool were lying quite near the shore on the New 
 Uninswick side. I tislicd it over twice one afternoon witliout 
 a rise and went ashore; ten minutes hiter Lawrence, who 
 had been ecinally unsuccessful above, came down with Aleck, 
 who persuaded him to try a cast over the last bit 1 had 
 fished. He f;ot a salmon at once, and, after landing him, 
 another, both with a fly of the same kind and size I had 
 been using. 
 
 I caught one fish in 1886 just behind T>awrence in the same 
 piece of water, though the conditions were slightly different, 
 as I was casting from the shore, and the fly came over the 
 flsh from another direction. You can never know in salmon- 
 fishing that the propitious moment is not at hand just as 
 you stop ; and although, as a rule, salmon do rise best at 
 certain flies and at certain times of day, yet there are so 
 many exceptions in the case of every angler who has had 
 experience, that he comes to believe the fish fully equal to 
 the white man in uncertainty. 
 
 The ' School of Recreation ' tells us that * salmon bite best 
 in INIay, June, and July at three o'clock of the afternoon,' 
 and several other of the eariy English treatises specify the 
 hour of the day when they are most likely to be taken ; but 
 I agree with Jacques that 'when dey jes' take notion' is 
 the proper time. The best day's fishing I ever had was in 
 low water, near noon, of an intensely hot -^nd bright day, 
 and the pool had been fished carefully and unsuccessfully in 
 the morning. The angler who works the most hours gives 
 himself the most chances to find the fish in the humour, and 
 will sometimes get them in defiance of every known principle 
 of his art. I once, as a joke, sent an enthusiast out to fish 
 
 J'. 
 
T 
 
 94 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 when tlie river had risen four feet, and was so dirty that it 
 seemed impossible for a sahnon to see the fly three inches 
 from his nose. He confounded me by shortly returning with 
 a fine fish. Another time I was coming down the river, when 
 Jaccjues said he thought he saw a sahnon break below us 
 within two yards of the shore, and where we knew the water 
 to be very shallow — not over ten or twelve inches deep— and 
 perfectly still. Jacques insisted on stopping and trying a 
 cast over this place, which I reluctantly did. To my surprise, 
 as soon as the fly came near the fish he darted at and took 
 it, and Ave carried him home— a big one of twenty-five or 
 twenty-six pounds. On examining the spot wliere he had 
 been we foiuid a little hole or groove where the water was 
 slightly deeper than on either side, and there the sahnon 
 must have been lying, though why he should do so when 
 there was plenty of good, swift-running water close at hand is 
 a mystery. I 've never known of one being in such a place 
 before or since. 
 
 The skill required on the Ilistigouche for the early fishing 
 is not nearly so great as is necessary for successful trout-fish- 
 ing in accessible streams. The salmon comes up the river 
 after his months of ocean exfjerience, where his only enemies 
 have been those which pursue him in the water. He has 
 forgotten, or recollects very dimly, the deceptive fly which 
 brought death a year since to certain of his companions ; and 
 if time has not obliterated the tragic occurrences theuiselves, 
 his dull lunlerstanding probably ascribes them to the canoe, 
 tlie rod, or the man using it — all of which he may have seen 
 during the struggles of his friends — rather than to the fly which 
 was out of sight while doing its deadly work. At his first 
 
 ) i 
 
 M 
 
 i 
 
TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 95 
 
 restiiif^-place, after liaving run the guuntlet of tlie nets, he 
 sees floating ])ast him the insects wliich recall delightful re- 
 collections of former days in the crystal river. He seizes them, 
 in sport or in earnest, witl.out nnich regarding their size or 
 colour, and at last closes his mouth on one that 's very sharp 
 and pejjpery, and seems disposed to stay with him, despite 
 his efforts to reject it. Finally, succeeding in getting rid of 
 it, but noi without a slight wound, he continues his upward 
 journey to the pool where he means to abide, a little more 
 fastidious in his selections of food, and getting an inkling 
 that flies are dangerous when in company with rods and men. 
 The short stays lie makes in different pools familiarise him 
 with their especial risk, though at each new one he reaches 
 the ))eriod of his greatest danger is very soon after his arrival, 
 as he seems for a time to throw off' the suspicions which 
 guarded him in his last resting-place. I am convinced that 
 a salmon is nmch more likely to rise very soon after comiig 
 to a pool than when l,c has be-^n there a day or two, and tliat 
 a fish wliich has remained some time in one pool, and won't 
 i-ise at anything, when first an inmate of ' the pool ' next higiier 
 iij) will take readily, and in a strange place seems to lose 
 the caution he had in his home of a few hours before. This 
 is the principal reason of the Hsliing always improving after a 
 rise in tiie water. There are no more flsii in the river, but they 
 are on the move ; perhaps they are, besides, looking out for 
 the food '.viiich the higher water will bring, and take what 
 comes along until tiiey learn anew the lessons of their earlier 
 stopping-places. Eariy in the season, when fresii fish are con- 
 stantly coming up from tl n sea, there are new arrivals daily 
 in the pools; and these are the flsh generally caught, though 
 
 Abb 
 
 
9G 
 
 riSIIING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 there are times wli^n the veterans lose their discretion and 
 show all the fatal folly of the new recruits. It is certain that a 
 salmon which has had experience of danger approaching from 
 a certain quarter, is suspicious of everything coming from that 
 direction. I have seen an old resident rising every few 
 moments at natural flies, and not only refusing an artificial 
 one presented very delicately to his notice, but being so 
 scared by it as not to show himself for half-an-hour. A fish 
 at Cliuin of Rocks once treated me in that way, and, waiting 
 until he recovered from his fright, I jjut in the water some 
 distance above hnn one of the large black and yellow butter- 
 flies so plentiful in early July, and as it came over him he 
 rose viciously and took it. I then caught another butterfly, 
 which I fastened to my hook and cast for the fish, but 
 inefi'ectually. Going down the river directly after, I met a 
 friend on his way to Chain of llocks to stay a few days. I 
 told him about the fish, and he got him the same evening 
 with one of the live butcei-flies. 
 
 A large salmon lived for a month, to my knowledge, 
 behind a great rock in the Upsalquitcii Pool, rising and 
 jumping occasionally, and, though fished for daily, never 
 yielding to the temptations of the various lures passing over 
 iiii-; head, — except once or twice soon after his arrival, when 
 he came up in a lazy indifferent way i' though his wish was 
 
 to yield us a little amusement. Another — or the same fish 
 
 the s'.icceeding year, after tantalising us in the same way 
 for three weeks, jumping daily, and often rising at natural 
 flies even when being fished for, was finally hooked by Captain 
 Sweiiy during a heavy shower, and after a hard fight b'-oke 
 the line and escaped. These were the fish which came to 
 
 
 i 
 
TACKLE AND IIOW TO TSK IT. 
 
 97 
 
 tlie pool to stay, aiul not to use it merely as a lodging-place 
 for a day or two on their journey ; and in tiie large pools 
 there are alxvays such which have had their eye-teeth cut, 
 and will not take except on extraordinary provocations. 
 
 The current of the Kistigouche is so uniformly strong, that 
 with a moderate ])itch of water, and while the salmon are 
 running, the most bungling tyro can ])resent a Hy within the 
 range of his cast as well as an expert I saw a gentleman 
 hook three in the Matapedia j)i)ol the first time he ever hail 
 a salmon-rod, or indeed a fiy-rod of any description, in his 
 hands, and land two of them. I have seen the Hy taken as 
 the line was being reeled in close to the canoe, and on one 
 occasion when it was being dragged a short distance beliind 
 as the canoe was being poled up-stream. Tiie salmon don't 
 mind a canoe a great deal, nor even the logs which come 
 down from tiie lumbering camps in large mnnbers for just 
 about ten days of the best fishing-time. It isn't at all un- 
 common at these times to hook salmon within a very few 
 feet of a moving log; in fact tiie logs don't seem in the 
 least to influence unfavourably their taking the Hy, though 
 many a fair fish escapes bv running beneath a descending 
 one, when the line is pretty certain to foul on some project- 
 ing piece of bark, and after a sliort agony give way, and 
 leave the angler lamenting, and the Indians damning the 
 whole lumbering industry, which, althougii it furnishes them 
 with all the winter work they ever get, they would rather see 
 annihilated than have it interfere with the noble art of angling. 
 
 Sometimes fish are landed after being towed about for 
 (juite a time fastened to the logs, the fouled line having been 
 finally released by the Indians. I have known tl-e line to be 
 
 N 
 
fl 
 
 'U R 
 
 !)8 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 V >. 
 
 taken uiuler a log and catch on a small branch which was 
 smooth enough to let it render over it without catching. As 
 there were several logs between this and the canoe, it was 
 some moments before it could be reached ; but it was reached, 
 turned over, and the line released in time to escape fresh 
 dangers of the same kind and save the fish. 
 
 The log-running season is the one wh >n the fish are most 
 ])lentiful and rise best, and it is fortunate that the llistigouche 
 has few dangers to successful angling in the way of sharp 
 sunken rocks, snags, or roots. The heavy spring floods carry 
 off all obstacles of the last-named kinds, the banks are 
 uniformly clear, and on one side there always is a good 
 beach. All these advantages make the llistigouche a very 
 easy river to fish when the salmon will take a fly as readily 
 as they do up to the second or third week of July, and of 
 two men, the one who fishes the most hours on good water 
 will get the most fish, provided he has ordinary intelligence 
 and is willing to follow the advice of his Indians, if not 
 comj)etent to direct his own operations. Later in tlie 
 season, however, when the water becomes low and perfectly 
 clear, and the fish have been for some time in the pools. 
 and have learned thoroughly the difference between a natural 
 fly and one dro])ped before them with a splash by a man ten 
 yards ofl", the skill and judgment come into play, and lie who 
 with light tackle can fish far and fine, and understands tlie 
 iiabits, haunts, and humours of salmon, will make fair ba<fs 
 day after day, while the angler who has done (juite as well 
 (lining the high water, when lish are running, finds thai the 
 art of salmon-fishing is yet for him to learn. There are, 
 late in the season, a great many salmon in the pools which 
 
 ; 
 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 99 
 
 liave been pricked, some of tli n more tliaii once, and 
 tliese especially have learned additional cantion by experience. 
 However, in this time of general lassitude there will rarely 
 come a day, or an hour or two, when the fish seem ))os- 
 sessed with short spells of insanity, and will take any fly 
 shown them with reckless disregard of results. Some of 
 the best bags on the river have been made on such 
 days, in the upper waiers late in the summer, when this 
 resistless impulse has tak-n possession of fish that have for 
 days been cast over without responding by the slightest rise. 
 The question of flies is a vexed one, and entirely differ- 
 ent and hostile theories are held by anglers whose views are 
 equally entitled to respect. Some say that if a salmon will 
 rise at all he will come to any fly of any size and any colour, 
 whether black, yellow, or green. Some say that the size 
 alone governs the attractiveness of the fly, and that colour 
 is a matter of indiff'erence. One gentleman I know carries 
 tliis matter of size to the length of insisting that a hackled 
 Hy is surticient, and wings are entirely supei-fluous. Others 
 pin their faith on dark flies alone ; others on bright ones ; 
 and still more think that size and general efTect should both 
 be considered. The advocates of each of these opinions can 
 bring plenty of proofs of their soundness founded on the 
 success they have met with in following them, and certainly 
 these are strong arguments. I cannot think however there 
 are any rules which sl'ould be considered inflexible as aj)])lied 
 to so caprt<-ious a subject as the salmon, nor that a liberal- 
 minded angler ought to consider his own success in following 
 out some arbitrary method as proving that it would be the 
 best for cverv one else. 
 
fi 
 
 '.f 1. 
 
 I 
 
 il 
 
 100 
 
 FISiriNG IN CANADIAN WATKHS. 
 
 Even in the early fishing, though any Hy may take, it is 
 my opinion that more sahnon will rise to the man using the 
 proper patterns and sizes than to tiie one who disregards 
 entirely hoth. Most people agree that for c -ly fishing the 
 files should be large ; and it is probable that for a good while 
 after salmon-angling with a fiy began it was thought that 
 only a large fly could take so large a fish, and even in the 
 light of modern experience it is hard to believe that small 
 ones can ever do better. The Anglers Pocket -Hook, 1805, 
 recommends fishing 'with a large, gaudy, artificial fly, its 
 body brilliant with gold or silver-a real butterfly on the 
 point of the hook imi)roves the bait.' AVilliamson's liritisk 
 Angler, 1740, says in the course of a poem on the sport- 
 
 ' Lai-ffc be your fly, too, witli expaiuloil win<fs 
 Of various hues— at this he boldly spriiifis." 
 
 All the other writers of the period, so far as I recollect. 
 
 advise large and brilliant flies-and such would naturally first 
 
 commend themselves. 
 
 In the early fishing, though large flies are more generally 
 
 sanctioned tiian small, I 
 iiave found that of those 
 which are very bright- 
 such as the 'Durham 
 Hanger ' —- (juite a small 
 one is advisable, and I 
 have risen fresh-run flsh 
 to that when they would 
 not look at the same fly 
 of say size. 
 If peoi)Ie will take the trouble to experiment thorou.Hdv 
 
 \ 
 
 t) 
 
 I r 
 
 \ 
 
TACKLE AND HOAV TO USE IT. 
 
 lot 
 
 it will be found that in the early fishing, when salmon are 
 rising the freest, certain colours of flies are the best ; though, 
 as I have said before, a portion of the rising salmon will 
 take anything. 
 
 I should say that the best results in the early fishing 
 follow the use of good- 
 sized sober flies, and would 
 put at the head of these 
 tiie '.Fock Scott,' wiiich, 
 though briglit-h)oking when 
 dry, has quite the contrary 
 effect in tiie water. This 
 may change on the llisti- 
 gouche, and some other fly 
 supplant it in the future, as among the caprices of salmon is 
 that of change in preference of flies from one season to 
 another. 
 
 Ten years ago I considered the most killing fly, after the 
 very first of the fishing, to be a good-si/ed insect, with blue 
 hackle, claret body, and wings from the tail of the wild 
 turkey ; and next to that, one 
 with a body of rat's fur, grey 
 iiackle, and mallard wing — tail 
 of both, though I think that 
 part immaterial, golden ])heasant 
 topping. 1 do not know of 
 these ))atterns having l)ccii used 
 
 on tlie Uistigouche before, but certainly I found tlieni 
 far more attractive than any others I tried for several 
 seasons. During the i)ast few years, however, liie salmon 
 
1 
 
 102 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 !l! 
 
 ' 1'. 
 
 1 
 
 liave changed opinion about them, and I tliink I lost a good 
 deal of sport by persisting for some time in their use. The 
 strangest instance in my experience of salmon insisting on 
 one ])articu]ar fly or none was with these grey ones. 
 
 I was, one morning late in June, fishing the INIowat Pool 
 at tlie upper end of our water, where the bottom is very 
 level, and the stream, though running swiftly, is as smooth 
 a", glass. The water was at a moderate pitch, of an average 
 depth of perhaps five feet, and very clear. I hooked one 
 five minutes after setting to work on one of these grey flies. 
 When I landed him I found that the hook, a • Sproat,' had. 
 after the custom of its kind, bent considerably. Pressing it 
 back to its proper shape with the aid of a stone, I returned 
 to the same place, and immediately hooked another flsh, 
 after landing which I foujid the hook straightened out more 
 than the first time, so much so, that I thought it unsafe to 
 use again. On looking over my book I found no fly similar 
 to that I had been using, and so tried four or five others, 
 but could rise no fish. Then bending back the hook of the 
 grey fly I tried that without a change of position, and on the 
 first cast hooked a salmon. Him I also landed ; but the 
 temper of the hook, through the frequent bendings, was so 
 entirely destroyed that — though the salmon would rise to it — 
 after pricking a couple which escaped at the first run through 
 the straightening of the hook, I took off the grey fly and 
 again tried various others without avail ; then putting it on 
 again I rose a fish to it at once in the same jilace I had 
 been casting over. All this was done in so confined a space 
 that there could not be the slightest doubt of the same fish 
 being cast over with all the different flies used, and that the 
 
 t ) 
 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
TACKLK AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 103 
 
 only one tliey would then pay the least attention to was the 
 grey. 
 
 The 'Silver Doctor' and the * IJlue Doctor' are capital 
 flies from the first run along until the water gets (piite low, 
 of rather smaller sizes than the dark flies, and I have found 
 them good in bright weather. Mr. Whitcher— formerly of 
 the Canadian department of 
 Marine and Fisheries, and an 
 excellent and successful angler 
 — was a strong advocate of 
 dark flies, and, I was told, in 
 order to ascertain just how 
 they would appear to the fish, 
 had lines stretched across the 
 
 river with flies attached ; then, taking off his clothes, dived 
 to the bottom, and looked up through the water at the flies 
 as a salmon would. This mode of observation is said to have 
 convinced him that the dark flies were much i)lainer to the 
 sight of the fish than the bright ones, and, consequently, 
 likelier to be taken. When a man is hungry, he is apt to 
 devour the first edible thing that comes in his way, and of 
 several would choose that easiest seen and which promised 
 the largest mouthful. The same may be the case witii the 
 llistigouche salmon, thus accounting for this preference for 
 large dark flies shown by those ascending the river in full 
 vigour, when the water is high and carries the breath of 
 winter in its icy current. As the hours of sunshine lengthen 
 and the nights grow warmer, the fish become more dainty in 
 their feeding, and only occasionally feel a disposition towards 
 the large, fat. and sometimes gaudy insects which their vora- 
 
\ 
 
 mam 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
 w 
 
 lOI. 
 
 FISIIINf; IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 c'ioiis ai)petites craved a sliort time before. They find in the 
 smaller and more delic'ate-wiii<fed creatures food wliich suits 
 better their own sh)\vly- dianginjr condition, and the angler 
 accordingly should yield to their wishes, and give them 
 smaller and more modest flies. 
 
 The Mock Scott,' 'Silver Doctor,' ' IJutcher,' ' Hlack-dose," 
 ' W'ilmot ' and ' Fairy,' black and brown, are taken Avell as 
 
 summer advances and the water 
 grows less chilly, though a 
 cold storm and freshet will 
 bring the fish back to their 
 favourites of a month earlier. 
 For the last few weeks of 
 fishing, which now ends August 
 loth, the water is generally 
 low and clear, without rain enough to change its steadily 
 falling tendency. It is then that small flies and incon- 
 spicuous ones, cleverly manoeuvred, are takers of salmon— 
 and about the oidy ones : the fish have been long in the 
 
 pools, and a fly means resulting 
 danger if not avoided. To be 
 taken, it must be thrown by an 
 angler the fish cannot see, and 
 come over its intended victim 
 pretty nearly in the manner 
 of a struggling, half-drowned 
 insect. On the upper Upsal(|uitch tlie water gets so clear 
 at times that the fish in some of the best pools — which 
 are long still-flowing stretches, not accessible to the cast 
 made from shore — can see the angler in his canoe above 
 
 V 
 
 \ 
 
TACKM', AND IIOW TO VSK IT. 
 
 105 
 
 at the greatest distiuicc from wliicli lie can reacli them. 
 
 Tliey are tlieii ()hli<ro(l to put in the bo-.vs of tl'C eaiiocs 
 
 screens of huslics, from behind 
 
 wliich tlie cast is made. Hy 
 
 the use of this stratagem the 
 
 fish are not attracted by tlie 
 
 movements of the angler, and 
 
 will take the Hy. Any one 
 
 who can tinow a long fine line 
 wading, would probably do 
 
 better on this water than by using a screen in his canoe. 
 I can almost say that for the late low-water fishing no 
 fly can be too small. IMy best luck has been with sizes ten 
 to fourteen, even of trout-hooks, in the very low clear water. 
 Still at such times tiie salmon will sometimes go back to 
 their earlier loves. One bright morning, in the lowest and 
 clearest of water, 1 rose a small fish in the L^psahiuitch pool 
 to a minute browii fly ; bis way of coming showed he had 
 no idea of taking it, and, as an experiment, I changed for a 
 very large double-hooked turkey winged fly, which one would 
 think fit only for high water and early fishing. I saw the 
 salmon rush at least twenty feet for this ; and such was his 
 eairerness, that as he took it he came clean out of the water. 
 There were other fish in the pool, and after disposing of my 
 small friend I tried them with the same big fly, but not one 
 would come near it. 
 
 The 'White Miller' has never, to my knowledge, killed a 
 salmon on the Uistigouche until this year, 1880. I have in 
 previous years often tried it and the ' Coachman ' in the 
 evening, and once rose a salmon to the latter fly. This year, 
 
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 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 making my usual trial, to my surprise I hooked a fish ahnost 
 immediately, and thereafter found tlie ' White JMille- ' tlie 
 best fly for the hite evening fishing. I tied a few of these 
 for some friends who were near us, and their success was 
 (luite as marked as mine. I think tiie taking this fly so well 
 in 188G was one of the inexplicable caprices of the salmon, 
 as I have never failed to show it to them every season I 
 have been on the river; and one rise to a 'Coachman,' sub- 
 stantially the same thing, has been all I had to show. Two 
 fish have also been taken this year with a red ibis trout-fly, 
 one of them the largest of the season— a forty-])ounder. He 
 fell a victim to a young friend of mine who went up the 
 Patapedia on a bear-shooting trip, and was fishing for trout, 
 fortunately with a salmon rod and reel. ^Vs a stron<>- 
 exami)le in favour of colour being sometimes what salmon 
 desire, I once, when on the Nepisseguit, caught two salmon 
 with a bunch of musk-rat's fur tied roughly on a hook. 
 
 Mr. Locke, in T/ic Tzcicd ami Doit, says: 'As an illus- 
 tration that while they are in the humour salmon Avill rise 
 and take anything, a few seasons ago a friend of mine cap- 
 tured here two or three fish with the thumb of an old kid 
 glove stuck on a jjlain hook.' 
 
 In getting the general efl'ect of a fly it is not necessary 
 that one especial shade of silk should be used in tying, that 
 the head should be either black or brown, or that the macaw 
 antemiic should be jjrescnt or absent. Even in his most diffi- 
 dent moods the salmon is not so finical as to require or 
 observe these very fine and delicate touches in the short 
 space of time it takes the fly to cross his field of vision. A 
 broad generalisation on his part is all that is necessary for 
 
 
 if 
 
 i 
 
TACKM', AM) HOW TO ISK IT. 
 
 107 
 
 tlie angler to provide for. This is shown by torn and 
 battered flies, ahnost worn out «>f' all semblance to their 
 original condition, taking fish after fish. The size and colour 
 still remaining, the perfection of the fly seems to be a matter 
 of indifference to the fish. I have had for years one large 
 ' Hritannia ' fly, given me by an English gentleman who was 
 on the river, and Ir.ive 
 taken a good many fish 
 on it, using it chiefly as 
 a change, for which it 
 has been most excellent. 
 It has been gnawed by 
 trout; the hackle van- 
 ished long ago, the wings 
 have been torn to pieces, 
 
 a new gut loop ])ut on outside the body, and various other 
 clumsy i)atching done. The fly does not look like a Hritaimia 
 or anything else now, and is an exceedingly disreputable object, 
 in spite of the new wings I have treated it to this year. Still 
 the original colour has been pretty well preserved, and for a 
 last resort 1 prefer it to any fly I own. 
 
 The changing of flies after a fish has risen antl missed is 
 a point of great discussion with anglers. The great thing to 
 do, more im])ortant than any change later, is not to jerk the 
 fly away as so»)n as the salmon has missed it. I think on 
 the Histigouche that fully half the salmon which miss the 
 fly on the first attempt will, if it is lett before them, turn 
 about and take it; and I have several times seen fish, after 
 the fly has been withdrawn, swim about looking for it. 
 Alexis Marchand always advises making one cast where the 
 
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 ti\ 
 
 i; 
 
 108 
 
 FlSIIISr. IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
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 fish rose at ont'C, before restiiijf liiin, and before lie has iiad 
 time to get fairly settled down after his rise. lietting the 
 fly alone for a niouK-nt after the first miss is however better, 
 und I eonsidei- it one of tiie cardinal points of sahnon-anglinfr. 
 The salmon generally has the Hy in his month when his rise 
 is apparent, and often when it is not seen at all, and a great 
 difference has been noticed in their mode of taking in dif- 
 ferent years. In some the rise is miifonnly bold and the 
 fish is well hooked, in others the fly is taken nnder water, 
 and (piietly, the first intimation of a rise beini; the tiiir on 
 tiie line. Of conrse when fish don't show, if the fly is missed 
 the angler knows nothing of it, and I have no donbt many 
 salmon are taken as the first result of this ignorance. It is 
 hard to learn to let your fly move ahmg as though nothing 
 liad happened when roused to excitement by the sudden 
 connnotion of a great salmon coming at it; but let it float 
 down the current, and perhaps ten, fifleen, or twenty-five 
 feet further you shall see a big wave denoting the pursuit 
 of the fish, and this time, enraged by the trouble the insect 
 has caused him, his aim is true, and the welcome pull that 
 comes with the splash of the rise am|)ly repays the conunand 
 you have i)ut on your inclinations. 
 
 ^Vhen a salmon misses a fly it is either through gross 
 carelessness or because he don't want it at that moment. He 
 can take it every time he really means to, and I believe it is 
 as easy for him to seize an insect floating down any stream 
 he may fre(pient, however rapid, as for a robin to pick up a 
 worm crawling ah)ng the path. 
 
 At the Flat Kock Pool at Pabincau Falls, on the Nepisse- 
 guit, the fish are all taken in the space of less than three 
 
 i^ 
 
 ■■■■Ml 
 
 -mm 
 
TACKLK AND HOW TO I'SK IT. 
 
 10» 
 
 yartis in Iciifftli of water, comiiiir fn)m one of tlic licavicst «>f 
 the cascades, and running witli j^reat switlness and «)ily sniootli- 
 ness into the bniken pool below, which is itself almost a 
 rapid. Tiic Hy, pitched into the foam at ti»e top of tliis run. 
 floats down over it like a tlasli, and in the midst «»f its 
 career is taken, if at all, hy a fisii from tiie ronj^h water 
 beh)W, which comes up into tlie shoot for it. Those wlu) 
 have seen salmon take in this ]>lace— and they rarely miss tlie 
 first attemjjt — will not be likely to (picstion their ability to 
 possess themselves of a fly in the water whenever they 
 clu)ose. It cannot occu|)y a second of time for the fly lo 
 pass over this cast, and it is never taken in the broken water 
 below, where the fish lie, but about half-way down the 
 smooth and shallow raceway. 
 
 Cilrantinjr the ability of the fish to take the Hy at every 
 rise— and 1 have an}j;lcd for days tojfether when this ability 
 has been shown — it follows that a miss indicates either that 
 the salmon is playinjf with the fly in sheer wantonness, or 
 that as he apj)roaclies he sees somethinj^ about its size or 
 colour he does not (piite liki', and so abandons his original 
 intention. There is no doubt that this sudden chanjfe of 
 heart in salmon takes place much oftener than we know of. 
 and many a fair fish starts for our fly and turns back without 
 breakin<; water at all. Of course such are less likely t«) be 
 caufjfht afterwards than those which do come to the surface. 
 The fish which rise in ])lay arc probably those which would 
 not take any Hy, and 1 believe the foul-hooked ones are 
 almost entirely t)f their nund)ers. A friend of mine had a 
 salmon rise six times at Chain of Hocks, coming entirely out 
 of water thrice, and finallv hook himself in the bellv. Uv 
 
 
I 
 
 110 
 
 m 
 
 • 
 
 riSIIING IN CANADIAN WATKHS. 
 
 followed tlic fly close to the canoe, could he plainly seen as 
 
 lie came for it several times; and Mr. W- said his actions 
 
 showed he had no idea of anythin<f except whilinj^ away a 
 few leisure moments. He would swim up and look the fly 
 over, then circle around it, and suddenly dive down, his tail 
 appcariuff ahove the surface. It is iini)ossil)le to tell with any 
 certainty whether or not a fish will come again fronj the 
 manner of his coming the first time. A hold dashing rise 
 may he all he has in him, or the faintest kind of a stir in 
 the water, the preciu-sor of a furious rush the next time he 
 sees the fly. In any case it is not at all wise to leave him 
 until all arts to tempt his appetite are exhausted. Suj)pose 
 a fish has risen and missed, what is to he done? Some will 
 go right along and fish the jmol out, and then come back to 
 the s])ot for a new trial ; this is the extreme of conservatism, 
 and the fish during the half-hour or ukmv may get entirelv 
 over the notion of rising. The popular idea is to rest him 
 a few minutes— I think three or four (juite long enough— 
 and then cast over him with the same fly. It is not safe to 
 assume, especially wlien the water is clear, that the salmon is 
 lying just beneath where he broke. He may ha\e come ten 
 yards or more for the fly, and after missing it will perhai)s 
 go hack to his seat, or, if the bottom is moderately smooth, 
 take a new one. Tiiis is apt to be, in such places, nearer the 
 canoe than where his rise was seen, as the salmon drop down 
 stream ahead of the approaching object, and, after it has been 
 anchored some time aiul they find it harmless, return to 
 the places which they left on its apjjroach. This accounts 
 for the not unfre(pient rising of salmon close by the canoe 
 after the cast has been fished at and the line is being taken 
 
 I r ' 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
TACKLK AND HOW TO TSE IT. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ill preparatory to a drop. Tlicre was no fish ti»cre when the 
 spot was cast over — there luul been, but the niovinjf canoe 
 frifflitened him away. After it stopped and remained station- 
 ary for a time he eonchfded it was a h)g, and came back to 
 las faniihar stone, ready to rise when the proper fly apj)eared. 
 
 If the fish refuse to notice the fiy tlic second time, I 
 should then clianffe it ; if hirjie, to a smaller one of the same 
 kind (this is often done by good anglers directly afler the first 
 miss), and try him again without a long wait. If I was sure 
 I knew about his i)ositi«)n, I would make my first east afler the 
 change very nearly over him. I don't think a rising salmon 
 is made any more anxious by seeing a fiy at varying intervals 
 of distance for several minutes before it comes over him ; and I 
 believe that many a fish makes one of the unseen offers before 
 mentioned when the fly is some way off, whereas if he had 
 first seen it close by he would have taken it promptly. 
 
 I was one evening, a few years since, standing on Mata- 
 pedia bridge directly over ten large salmon which lay in the 
 swifl current close together, and keeping their ])ositions by 
 almost im|)crceptil)le movements of their tails. A friend was 
 fishing the pool above the bridge, and I called him to come 
 down and have a try at these fish. In obedience to my 
 sunnnons his canoe was anchored about forty yards above 
 them, and he began lengthening his line by degrees. IJefore 
 twenty yards were out a slight conunotion among the fish 
 showed that some of tliem noticed the fly, and as it came 
 roimd in front of tiiem the next cast, and but little nearer, 
 two of them started. The one beliind stop])ed after going 
 about ten feet and returned to his i)lace, the other went 
 like a shot two-thirds of the way to the Hy, then slowed up 
 
 ^^Hj. 
 
^IPiPBiVI 
 
 D« 
 
 > 
 
 \Vi 
 
 riSIIING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 if 
 
 and came buck without brciikiiif^ the water. My friciul diil 
 not know he liad had a rise, and never wouhl liud not some 
 one been there to see it and tell liini. Sometliin}^ in the 
 manner of that fish m.vde me sure that had tiie fly been seen 
 by iiim for the first time within a few feet of liis nose lie 
 wouUl liave taken it ; as it was, neither he nor any of his 
 com])anions couUl be persuaded to start ajfain, and paid no 
 more attention to the various flies thrown over them. 
 
 Shouhl I rise my fish to a small fly, my change would be 
 to one larger and of a decidedly difTerent appearance. Failing 
 on the first change, I would give a short rest again, and 
 |)rescnt a fly of another marked contrast to tiie last in colour ; 
 after that I should show him the fly he first rose to, and tlien 
 follow the dictates of my fancy, as after a fish has risen once or 
 twice all rules about taking are for the time sus])ended, and 
 he is liable to come to a fly he would never think of looking 
 at in iiis sane moments. It is the possibility of this short mania 
 seizing him wiiich makes it allowable at such times to try 
 him with the most extravagant creations of the Hy-tier's art. 
 
 A fish will sometimes rise for the second or third time 
 to a fly that he w«)idd pay no attention to if cast over him 
 before he had risen at another. For instance, I was once 
 fishing with a 'Jock Scott,' and iiad gone over carefully the 
 best part of the ])ool. when I saw a fish take a natural fly 
 just where I had been casting. Waiting a few moments I 
 tiu-ew the '.Fock Scott' over him again without result, then 
 clianging to a smaller bright fly he rose at once but missed. 
 A large ' Silver Doctor ' was next put on, at which he also rose ; 
 s\ibstituting the original '.lock Scott 'he took it at once. All 
 of these flies were cast directly over him the first time, as 1 
 
TACKLK AM) HOW TO FSE IT. 
 
 lis 
 
 knew within a foot where lie was ; and 1 wish to emphasise 
 th.; inadvisabihty, t<. me, «)f castinj? .lown by slow degrees 
 to a Hsh whose whereab.)uts you know. »y commencing to 
 cast far away from the sahnon his attention is attracted to 
 the fly wlien it is a long distance ott", and in tiie time he has 
 to watcli it before it comes over him lie may discover the 
 cheat, or if at first sight he starts to take it the same chance 
 for investigation occurs ; whereas, if he first see the fly close 
 at hand, apprehensive of losing it. and with no time for 
 examination or approval, he is more apt to yield to his 
 impressions, if favourable, and take it at once. A fish which 
 pursues a fly some distance and returns to his i)lace of 
 starting is not apt to rise again unless the fly is nuich nearer. 
 1 believe that many fish are not caught by reason of the 
 angler thinking they may be just below where the first rise 
 was seen, and they are never cast over the second time at all. 
 There are certain places in the shelter of rocks and stones 
 where salmon, if in the stream at all, will always lie, and to 
 which they will return after their short excursion for food; 
 but there are others where the bottom is level, or nearly so, 
 with a good flow of water and no si)ots of especial desira- 
 bility for sahnon to rest in. In such i)laces a salmon, after 
 rising and missing, is just as likely t.) move a little up-stream 
 as to go back to the place whence he came; and the fish 
 in these flats -as I have found out by observing marked ones 
 that had been through the nets and could be identified— move 
 about and change their positions somewhat in the day-time 
 when they are not travelling. 
 
 Some fish which rise the first or even the second or 
 third time in play may be persuaded to finally take. A 
 
 (•" 
 
 Hi^Hi 
 
114 
 
 I'ISFriNC; IN CANAnjAN WATERS, 
 
 f 
 
 n 
 
 kl 
 
 snlmon lying in a jmol with some hours of idleness at liis 
 disposal l)ef'orc the time for him tt) resume his journey 
 comes, sees a fly passing over him and rises at it, perhaps 
 in play or to while away a leisure moment, but with no 
 idea of taking it in hii> mouth. It floats away out of his 
 sight; he returns to his rock, and in a few moments the 
 same insect again comes dancing and fluttering over him. 
 He makes another idle dash at it, perha])s comes to the 
 surface and splashes the water with his broad tail in 
 going down. Five minutes more and another fly comes 
 within the range of his unwinking eye; it is smaller than 
 the first, darker in colour, and resembles a breed of insect 
 familiar to him, and of a most delicious flavour, though 
 some of his friends prefer other varieties; now, he thinks, 
 is the time to break his fast, and darting up— this time 
 with certain aim— he seizes the morsel, to his sorrow ! 
 
 In the shrimp-fishing season, on the Galway River in 
 Ireland, the salmon are often regulariy bullied into taking 
 the baits, which may be cast before their noses nineteen 
 times or more, until at last they swallow it, apparently 
 only for the purpose of putting a stop effectually to the 
 annoyance its constant passing causes. 
 
 There are instances of salmon in the llistigouche ex- 
 hibiting temper in very much the same way. Mr. Lawrence 
 was fishing one day a smooth clear piece of water at the 
 foot of Nelson's Pool, and had his attention called by Alexis 
 to a small salmon lying a short distance below the canoe. 
 He began casting over him, and after the fly had passed 
 the fish eight or ten times he came from the bottom very 
 deliberately, swam up to the fly, examined it from all sides. 
 
 < f 
 
TACKLK AM) HOW TO I'SK IT. 
 
 113 
 
 and as it was tirawii in followed it to a few feet from the 
 eaiioc, and then returned to his plaee. I^awrenee kept rijfht 
 on eastinj; at him witii the same Hy, and atlcr a few 
 moments more of inattention the fish t-ame up aj^aiii. 
 followed the tty for a little way, took it, and was killed. 
 All of this was done without tiie tish showin;j; above water 
 at all, and had he not been so near the eanoe he would 
 never have been seen or taken. 
 
 liUst .luly, in a very hot bright day, with low water, a 
 gentleman ])assing up the shallow smooth part of Mowafs 
 I'ool saw a large salmon lying on the bottom. Although 
 the pool hud been carefully fished betimes that morning 
 without result, and that identieal fish east over more than 
 once, the enthusiastic emotions of youth led the young man 
 to the point of trying what age and ex])erience woulil have 
 made him consider useless. So, to the disgust of his Indians, 
 he ordered the canoe to be anchored above the fish, and in 
 plain sight of him commenced plying him with Hies. After 
 eight or ten had been thrown over him, to none of which 
 he paid any attention, he showed his notice of one. or his 
 dislike of all, by slowly backing down stream a little. The 
 canoe was at once dropped until the fish was seen on one 
 side of it, and not more than five yards distsint, and as 
 many more flies were shown him, but still he mude no sign. 
 The book was about exhausted when a large 'Siiver Doctor' 
 was put on, and at its first ])assage above him the fish came 
 up, took it with a rush, and was killed — a twenty-six pounder 
 — to the great astonishment of the spectators as well as of 
 the young fisherman. 
 
 ]My son, last year, while on an expedition up the Upsal- 
 
 p 2 
 
 ma 
 
Il 
 
 111 
 
 116 
 
 FISIIIN(; IN CANADIAN WATKIIS. 
 
 quitch, was fisliiiij; for trout with u very hght split hutiihoo 
 roil, not «>vcr Hve ouiurs in wci;4;lit. aiul tlie tail Hy of his 
 fast was a inc'(huin-si/,c(l red ihis. Sccinj; three sahnon 
 lyinj? ill tiie tiear shallow water a good east lieltiw him, he 
 began throwing over them. Kvery time the tiy passed one. 
 or sometimes two. would make a little stir, hut nothing like a 
 rise eame until the fourth east, whin one darted u|> and took 
 it. lie was played about fifteen minutes, but the shore on 
 both sides was so grown up with alders which overhung the 
 water, that he could neither be licached ni)r brought into any 
 shallow place, although he was pretty well tired. One of 
 the Indians at last tried to kill him with liis pole, but instead 
 knocked him loose from the hook, and he escaped. 
 
 Such experiences as these are, on the whole, rather dis- 
 heartening, as they lead a man to feel he is neglecting his 
 duty when he knows he is fishing over a salmon if he does 
 not employ every resource of his fly-book and his patience 
 before leaving him, even when he is sure in his inmost soul 
 that all are likely to ])rove ineffectual. W'hvu salmon, as 
 they do some years (and those on the Histigouche in 188(5 
 will recollect that year as one when this was a marked 
 peculiarity), more than half the time take the fly under water 
 without making a ripple on the surface, one may rise fish 
 without knowing it, and the lives of m, ' are undoubtedly 
 saved by the anglers continuing to cast right along afler one 
 of these unseen rises. Although I have given instances of 
 salmon being caught in direct violation of the rule of resting 
 them, still it is not a course I should advise any fisherman 
 to ])uisue. 'I'he fact, however, of the salmon generally pre- 
 ferring U) wait awhile after his first rise before trying it again 
 
 •^ 
 
TACKLK AM) HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 117 
 
 is u very singular one, and seems inconsistent witli the 
 wonderful activity an<l vigour of tlie tish. He can't do it 
 l)ecause lie is tired from the triHing exertion of swimming a 
 few feet, not because he does not want the Hy, wliicii, after 
 a few moments' rej)ose, he will take with the utmost fierce- 
 ness, nor for any other reason that I have ever heard men- 
 tioned, except the general one given hy .Iac(|iics. that ' he do 
 jes as he dam please.' This explanation covers about all of 
 the vexed questions in fishing for salmon— his rising short, or 
 indeed rising at all, his likes or «. likes for particular Hies— 
 and its rather finely-drawn moral is that there are no sure 
 things in salmon-fishing any '■ )re tli.in, accoMiing to the pro- 
 verb, in cock-fiv>iiting, and tliat, wilh tlic exception of a very 
 very few imperative rules of eotidujl, patience, and persever- 
 ance in experimenJng, is the host road to success, with a 
 creature so fickle in his temperament and so fond of variety. 
 
 Among the various theories as to salmon is one I heard of 
 last summer, and it is that of a veteran angler who has prob- 
 ably killed more salmon on the Kistigouchc than any other 
 man. This is that most of them sleep dining the day. waking 
 to activity early in the afternoon, and that for (juite a time 
 before then they have to be roused from their slumbers as a 
 preliminary to their taking the fly. At one of the pools this 
 gentleman fishes, a brook emjjties into the river and has had 
 two dams put across it, enclosing a space of thirty or forty 
 feet close to the bank. In this place certiiin of the salmon 
 taken in the pool are put, being landed by a big scoop-net in 
 stead of by the gaff, and kept alive until wanted. These fish, 
 during several hours of the day when the sun is highest, can 
 be ciircfully a])proached without their taking any notice. 
 

 
 f 
 
 :{ 
 
 ^' 
 
 118 
 
 riSIII,\(; IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 and sometimes even stroked gently witli a stick or turned 
 partly over, vvliile towards niglit, and especially after sun- 
 down, the least movement near the place sets them dashing 
 about wildly in every direction. 
 
 The conditions in which they are, however, are suffi- 
 ciently different from their natural ones to make these 
 observations of uncertain value, tliough it has long been 
 known that salmon are in a more active condition during 
 the night than the day. 
 
 The direction from which a fly appears to a salmon will 
 often detennine whether he is to take it or not, especially 
 after he has once risen, though not unfrequently before, and 
 occasionally a fish will take a fly on the surface which he 
 would not when the usual depth below it, or one dragged 
 up against the current that has gone over him in the con- 
 ventional way unnoticed. It is the part of wisdom to try 
 all these different things before leaving a flsh, and even after 
 they and divers others have been vainly essayed, you can 
 never feel sure that one cast more would not have proved 
 irresistible to him. The change of position and consecpient 
 different direction whence the fly approaches is always worth 
 a trial if it can be made, and I have thus taken many a fish 
 by trying him from the shore, when practicable, after he 
 had missed once or twice from the canoe and ceased rising, 
 and vice versa. 
 
 As germane to this, and also siiowing the queer freaks 
 which salmon sometimes manifest, an ex|)crience of Mr. 
 Lawrence, written down half an hour after it ha])pened, may 
 not be imintercsting. 
 
 On June 23, 1883, of a cold afternoon, with a high north- 
 
 i 
 
 
■« 
 
 TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 119 
 
 west wind blowing, '.e went up to Mowat's Rock Pool. He 
 soon rose a salmon, which missed the fly ; rested him five 
 minutes, and cast over him again, when he again rose and 
 missed, and as the fly went on three or four yards, carried along 
 by the current, another fish rose at it, and missed ; a rest 
 of about three minutes, and then, as the fly got midway 
 between the places of the two rises, both fish rose simul- 
 taneously, and nnssed. Mr. Lawrence, after tnree minutes 
 more, rose fish number two again ; then waited the same 
 length of time, and cast over the spot (the fifth time), when 
 again both fish rose sinuiltaneously ; a muiute's rest, and 
 another cast brought up fish mnnber two; then an interval 
 of half a minute, and fish numlier one took the fly, but 
 broke his hold after ten minutes' fight. Then Mr. Lawrence 
 returned, and at the second cast hooked and killed fish 
 number two ; weighing twenty-five and a half poimds. The 
 fii-st rise of all was to a 'Butcher,' after the third rise the 
 fly was changed to a silver grey; after the fifth, back to 
 
 fi 
 
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 i«>o1 » I>,.4-..I. 
 
 . A N u I'. 
 I'.lLhmtJ liy ( . A. I'l Al I. 
 
^Bstm 
 
 118 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKIIS. 
 
 and sometimes even stroked {gently with a stick or turned 
 partly over, while towards niglit, and especially after sun- 
 down, the least movement near the place sets them dashing 
 about wildly in every direction. 
 
 The conditions in which tiiey are, however, are suffi- 
 ciently dift'erent from their natural one>i to make these 
 observations of uncertain value, though it has long been 
 known that salmon are in a more active condition during 
 the night than the day. 
 
 The direction from which a fly appears to a salmon will 
 oilen determine whether he is to take it or not, especially 
 after he has once risen, though not unfrequently before, and 
 occasionally a fish will take a fly on the surface which he 
 would not when the usual dei)th below it, or one dragged 
 up against the current tiiat has gone over him in the con- 
 ventional way unnoticed. It is the ])art of wisdom to try 
 all these dift'erent things before leaving a fish, and even after 
 they and divers others have been vainly essayed, you can 
 never feel sure that one cast more would not have i)roved 
 
 Vii 
 
 u 
 
 I 
 
 ■^MiattB^H 
 
TACKLE AND HOW TO USE IT. 
 
 119 
 
 west wind blowing, he went up to Mowat's Rock Pool. He 
 soon rose a salmon, which missed the fly ; rested him five 
 mimites, and cast over him again, when he again rose and 
 missed, and as the fly went on three or four yards, carried along 
 by the current, another fish rose at it, and missed; a rest 
 of about three mimites, and then, as the fly got midway 
 between the places of the two rises, both fish rose simul- 
 taneously, and missed. Mr. Lawrence, after three minutes 
 more, rose fish number two again ; then waited the same 
 length of time, and cast over the spot (the fifth time), when 
 again both fish rose simultaneously ; a minute's rest, and 
 another cast brought up fish munber two; then an interval 
 of half a minute, and fish number one took the fly, but 
 broke his hold after ten minutes' fight. Then Mr. Lawrence 
 returned, and at the second cast hooked and killed fish 
 number two ; weighing twenty -five and a half pounds. The 
 first rise of all was to a 'Butcher,' after the third rise the 
 fly was changed to a silver grey; after the fifth, back to 
 the original ' Hutcher.' 
 
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 I 
 
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 t.2 
 
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■IP 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Like a stout steel bow liis back lie bemls. 
 
 Then, briglit as the crescent moon, 
 Leaps high in air, tliis racer fair, 
 
 And flaslieth away full soon. 
 
 Songx of the Edinburgh Angling Cltih. 
 
 it 
 
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 1^ 
 
 . ..-,^^,^,.... . 
 
 MlMMMtteralK 
 
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 u4 
 
V.I 
 
 three or four fish to show. Our pork had turned out rusty, 
 our flour got wet, and I had tipped over my canoe : we 
 considered that we had met with a series of mishaps unparal- 
 leled in the history of salmon-fishing. That morning even 
 we had risen at day-break, and started from Red Pine 
 
 ti2 
 
 ' '•i^-^-'f 
 
if'' 
 
 u^;' 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
THE SALMON 
 
 OF MATAPEDIA HRIDGE 
 
 NE morning, early in the August of ten 
 years ago, a friend of mine, whom I 
 will call the Judge, and I, reached 
 iSIatapedia, after a hard and unlucky 
 trip of ten days to the top of tiie river. 
 It had rained almost constantly, and 
 for nearly a week «;ier we started we had not been dry 
 an hour of any twenty-four. We had failed three nights 
 to reach the places where we meant to camp, and had 
 been forced to pitch our tent in the dark, amid heavy 
 showers and general discomforts. We had fished the best 
 pools of the upper river, Patapedia, Indian House, Devil's 
 Half Acre, Soldier's Gulch, and many others, and only had 
 three or four fish to sliow. Our pork had turned out riisty, 
 our flour got wet, and I had tipped over my canoe : we 
 considered that w^e had met with a series of mishaps unparal- 
 leled in the history of salmon-fishing. Tiiat morning even 
 we had risen at day-break, and started from Red Pine 
 
 a '2 
 
 imm 
 
 K&atj 
 
 ui— B— »■ 
 
184 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 
 llH 
 
 Mountain so as to reach the mouth of the LTpsalquitch 
 ui time to fish that, passing a dozen good pools on the 
 way, and, reaching the point, found two anglers camping 
 there, who proudly showed us four fine fish they had just 
 brought in I 
 
 It was before the existence of the llistigouche Salmon 
 Club, and the large straggling building at INIatapedia which 
 has been modified into the club-house, with its dependent 
 store, post-office, and other surroundings, was presided over 
 by Dan Fraser, whose comeliness and social powers served in 
 some measure to atone for the shortcomings of the establish- 
 ment of which he was the easy-going and inefficient head. 
 
 Fraser held undisputed possession of the fishing of the 
 great pool formed by the junction of the JNIatapedia and 
 llistigouche Rivers in front of his house— the best pool, I 
 believe, in the world— and a claim on a small but excellent one 
 in the Matapedia a few rods above where it meets the main 
 river. Of late years the fish have not frequented this pool, 
 but I have known from five to ten salmon daily to be taken 
 there for a week in the times of which I write, ana before. 
 
 The last years of Fraser 's reign— for he was a potentate 
 in those parts— and after the completion of the Intercolonial 
 Railway, he had his house full during June and July of 
 anglers, who might be seen dotting the big pools thick as a 
 flock of ducks. I was told by a friend that he counted 
 thirty-two canoes fishing there at one time, and my recollec- 
 tion is that about forty salmon were taken on that day. The 
 lower end of this magnificent pool has built over it the 
 railway bridge, which is supported on five stone piers, rising 
 about thirty feet above the usual water-level, and projecting 
 
 I 
 
 h 
 
'f 
 
 i 
 
 Tin; SALMON OF MATAl*i;i)IA HllinGK. 
 
 IS;! 
 
 as far up stream above tlie roadway of the bridffe, the ends 
 of all being sharp, to break up the great cakes and masses of 
 ice which descend in the Spring. 
 
 Between these piers, as the season advances, the salmon 
 lie, and can be seen from the bridge resting almost motionless 
 in the swift pure water, and i)aying no attention to the thun- 
 dering and shaking of the trains passing overhead. I once 
 counted twenty-eight great fish in one school lying between 
 the third and fourth piers from tiie Quebec side, all insensible 
 alike to the racket of the railway and the scores of flies cast 
 at them from canoes anchored above. 
 
 This August day we were obliged to stay at Matapedia, 
 as no train left until the next morning. We bathed off the 
 remains of camp-snioke and fly-lotions, stowed our tent and 
 cooking utensils away in the store-cellar to take their chances 
 till the following season, and put on clean clothes with a 
 sense of satisfaction which was soon dispelled by the convic- 
 tion they brought that our summer sport by woods and river 
 was ended, and this day would give us our last sight of the 
 Ristigouche for a twelvemonth. 
 
 Our faithful Indians had already scented some mysterious 
 corner of the estabhshment where they could exchange their 
 hard-earned dollars for whisky, and were lounging about in 
 various stages of the intoxication which had been the fondly- 
 anticipated goal of their labours. Hy dinner-time we had 
 forgotten every hardship and inconvenience of our late 
 journey, and sighed for the midges and mosquitoes of Tom's 
 Hrook and the black flies of Cross Point. 
 
 After the rather unpalatable banquet furnished by Fraser — 
 at which we had but one companion, a Cockney tourist who 
 
 ): 
 
12(5 
 
 riSIIIN(; IN CWADIAN W'ATEHS. 
 
 i\ 
 
 liad been Hshiiig there iinsiictessfully f\,r a few days-the 
 Jud^re and I, t.) wliile away the h.n^r arternocn. strolled down 
 to the bridge to have a look at the river and a little air. as 
 it was very hot at the hotel. On the bridge we found a 
 faint breeze blowing, and, looking up the river, the lovely 
 ■ippli'if? pool lay shining before us. the New Hrunswick shore 
 rising bold aiul rugged on the left, the rapid current g.ngling 
 and swirling about the corners of the black and poh'shed 
 roiks; and on the right, the beautifully green island which 
 hid the mouth of the Alatapedia. and the grassy flat beyond, 
 sprinkled with large forest trees. The only living object in 
 sight before us was our Cockney friend, who was braving 
 the heated glare of the afternoon sun in his eanoe, vainly 
 thrashing the submissive waters. 
 
 As we sat idly enjoying the scene, and all unconsci.)us of 
 swiftly-approaching adventure, we saw just beneath us. be- 
 tween the second and third piers, the rise of a salmon coming 
 to the surface, evidently at a natural fly floating down, as he 
 made but a slight break. We could not see the fish, as the 
 run of the water was nearest the pier which was in shadow; 
 but the knowledge that he was there, and probably in taking 
 iHunour, put a period to our dawdling and started me off" on 
 a rini to the house for a rod. 
 
 After unpacking the Judges trunk to get his reel and 
 «ies. which of course were in the bottom, I hastened back, 
 luckily not forgetting the gaff; and found the .lu.lge had seen 
 the fish come up again during my abse-ce. In order to 
 make a cast over him I had to go out to the pointed ex- 
 trenuty of one of the piers running up-stream from the bridge, 
 and I should think, as I said before, thirty feet from the 
 
 n 
 
 ix 
 
THE SALMON OF MATAPKDIA nUIIXli;. 
 
 ia7 
 
 water — at any rate it was high enough to make .sitting there 
 very uncomfortable, and getting my Hy where I wanted it, 
 from my cramped position, a matter of difticulty. After a 
 number of trials I managed to throw it pretty well above me, 
 and far enough out to tloat down elose to the next pier. 
 Nothing njoved ; but as I was pulling back the Hy for the 
 next cast, and it was almost imder my narrow seat, a fair- 
 sized salmon darted at it from the shadow of the opposite 
 pier. I saw him when within ten feet of the Hy, and was so 
 startled that I snatched it out of the water, and the Hsh 
 seeing his expected victim sutldenly vanish, tinned about and 
 swam leisurely back into the obscurity. The jeers of the 
 Judge, who had seen from the bridge my fright-inspired con- 
 duct, added to the sense of abasement I felt at my folly in 
 losing such a chance. However, after waiting a good ten 
 minutes, I began casting over the Hsh again, and for half-an- 
 hour was thus occupied, changing Hies several times, and 
 finally returning to the large blue and brown to which he 
 had first risen, but all in vain. At last, ginng him up, I 
 began fishing rather hopelessly the remainder of the very 
 limited amoimt of water at my command, which consisted 
 of the small portion midway between the two piers around 
 which my Hy had always swung, as my cast had been in the 
 current which would bring it down close to the further pier, 
 then at the end of the cast across the water between the two 
 ])iers, and up the side of that on which I was perciied. The 
 first time the Hy came down in the centre, and not three 
 yards from where it was when the first fish started for it, I 
 saw something come up deliberately from the bottom, 
 growing, as it approached the surface, as large as a good- 
 
 i 
 
 ■MM 
 
 m 
 
:! 
 
 I 
 
 li>.S 
 
 FISHING I\ CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 sized infant. I luid my nerves well under conniiand, and 
 just cliecked tlie proj^rcss of tlie Hv ; but it seemed aires 
 
 • try 
 
 before the fish reached it, opened his mouth, took it in, and 
 with the same serenity and dehberateness which marked his 
 upward movement turned and sougiit liis hiir. 
 
 The instant that ehipsed before the sahnon reahsed that 
 lie was hooked I employed in crawling oft" the point of the 
 pier to the broader part of it, and doubting very nuich if I 
 shoukl be able to extricate myself without discredit or the 
 loss of the Judge's tackle from the dilemma of my own 
 seeking. I have a dim recollection of wishing it was the first 
 fish I had fast instead of this one, which was twice the 
 size, and decided that he must be given line enough on his 
 first run— if it was down-stream— to make hiin unlikely to 
 return and get between the next two piers, which would be 
 fatal, when he made the consideration of that question un- 
 necessary by starting violently ui)-stream towards the New 
 Brunswick shore, and, after a jump which showed a bright 
 fish of at least thirty pounds, came to a temporary stop about 
 fifty yards above the end of the second pier above me. There 
 was nothing to do but get around to the next pier, if the fish 
 would wait, and this I succeeded in doing, with the assist- 
 ance of the .ludge. Once there, and the salmon remaining 
 in nearly the same positioM, with the dangerous length of line 
 I had out it became an object to get him started down, if 
 possible between the i)ier on which I was standing and one of 
 those either to the right or to the left of it. The .Judge ran 
 to the bank and returned pulling and blowing with his hat full 
 of stones, and soon the fish, yielding insensibly to the steady 
 pressure of the rod and the current, had worked down near 
 
 
 
THE SALMON OF MATAPEDIA BRIDGE. 
 
 lyj) 
 
 euougli to liiive stones tlirown in above him. The third 
 missile struck the water near enoufjfh to start him, and to oin* 
 joy he daslied down between tlie piers lie came from, and 
 stopped directly under tlie bridge, where there were j)robably 
 some of his friends, taking their afternoon siesta, to whom 
 he made known his troubles. It was but for a moment, 
 however, and down again lie went, I following him the length 
 of the pier, giving no more line than possible, until I reached 
 the bridge, where, instead of holding my rod up I had to 
 hold it down, to keep tlie strain on the fisli and the Hne 
 from fouling the floor-timbers of the bridge. 
 
 The salmon ' cavorted ' about for some minutes, and twice 
 I saw the axle of the reel ; but at last he came back from 
 the (piickcr water and sought the bottom in the deep and 
 (piiet part of the ]hw\ about twenty-five yards below the 
 bridge. We concluded lie must be tired enough not to be 
 anxious to renew the fight at once, and that now was the 
 time to get the rod so it could be used from the lower side 
 of the bridge, the wiiole structure being between me and the 
 fish. To do this it was of course necessary to carry the 
 rod underneath, and as tlie thickness of the timbers was too 
 great to admit of reaciiing between the tics and passing 
 it along with the hand, I took hold of tiie butt, after giving 
 tlie line a hitch about the handle of the reel, and pushed 
 the point of the rod a., far as I could under the bridge. 
 The Judge lay down on the briilge and inserted the point 
 of the gafr between the line and the rod at tlie last ring 
 of the tip, and I let go the butt, which, to our horror, 
 swung about and hit the reel against the pier, breaking oflf' 
 the handle and a piece from the side, but fortunately not 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
m" 
 
 VM 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS, 
 
 '•'! 
 
 the projecting axle to wliich the line was fastened. We 
 now had the rod hanging perpendicularly, held by the gaff 
 attached to its tip, rather more than half-way across the 
 bridge, the line of course loose, and the salmon sulking in 
 the deeps below unconscious of his opportunity. I next 
 pulled up the slack of the line between me and the fish, 
 not enough to bring any strain which might rouse him to 
 action, and fastened it to the top of the rod, which enabled 
 the Judge, by a long reach, to gaff the line ten feet nearer 
 the salmon. When he had secured this I let go the tip of 
 the rod I had been holding, and it was hauled up by the 
 Judge, handed to me, and the operation gone through once 
 more, which brought us clear of the lower side of the 
 bridge, but not, as -we then saw, clear of half-a-dozen tele- 
 graph wires which ran along just outside of it, and obliged 
 me to hold the recovered rod with the point down nearly as 
 much as from the pier on the upper side. I found when 
 1 got at the reel, that it would render line all right, 
 but owing to the handle being gone I could not wind 
 in. The salmon all this time, probably ten minutes, had 
 not stirred, and with hesitation and anxiety we prepared 
 for a renewal of the interrupted hostilities. Gathering 
 up the slack line with care against future foulings, I 
 felt gently of the fish with no response, then giving 
 a heavier pull, I tapped smartly on the rod with my 
 knife-handle. Nothing more than a short angry tug 
 showed a recognition of this hint, and it was not until 
 a well-aimed stone from the Judge dropped directly above 
 the fish that he showed he meant to give us another fight 
 for freedom. This he did by a dart toAvards the New Uruns- 
 
tHi: SALMON or MATAl'EDIA niUl)(;i:. 1)1 
 
 wick shore, which, against the heaviest pull I dared risk. 
 was not cliecked until my line was well-nigh exiiausted. 
 He stopped where the water was (piite shallow and (juick. 
 just above the rajwd, and the Judge, who went over to sec- 
 him, shouted the pleasing intelligence that it was hard for 
 him to retain his position, and he occasionally showed liis 
 side. At last he began slowly yielding; I was able to 
 recover some line, and, as he gradually moved down and 
 towards the centre of the stream, he several times came to 
 the surface in his gallant but futile efforts lo resist tiie force 
 he felt was overcoming him. As he reached a point directly 
 in front of me, he gave up beat, and lay helpless on the top 
 of the water on his side, with only an occasional feeble flaj) 
 of his tail. This of course made it necessary to give him 
 line, as the dead weight of so large a fish, aided by the 
 current — which happily was not very strong just where he 
 was— would soon make something give way. We could not 
 tov/ him ashore, as the rod wouldn't pass the supports foi- 
 the telegraph wires, which started from the bridge ; but we 
 had another resource in our English friend, whose Indians 
 had brought his canoe near the bridge on the Quebec side, 
 and were watching the contest. I shouted to him, asking 
 him if he would drop down and gaff the fish for me. He 
 grumbled something in reply, of which I fancied I could 
 
 catch the words ' D Yankee,' but did not stir. ' Offer the 
 
 villain the fish,' said the Judge, which I did with an amiable 
 smile. This proposal was too tempting for him to resist, and 
 he at once started out to the salmon. The canoe was 
 stopped about ten yards above ; the noble sportsman placed 
 his gaff in a convenient position, then seized my line and 
 
 It 2 
 
 
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 i !i 
 
 1 
 
 I I 
 
 \' 
 
 \ 
 
 M: 
 
 M, 
 
 ISS 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 
 began hiiiiling tlie lieavy fish up-stream towards him, liand 
 over liand. To our shouts and abuse he paid no attention, 
 and so firmly was the sahnon hooked, and so good the tackle, 
 that he was nearly dragged to the gatt' before tiie casting- 
 line parted, and the canoe silently dropped down-stream and 
 disappeared behind the island. The Judge and I looked at 
 each other for a moment in silence, and realising that pursuit 
 was hopeless and language inadequate, gathered in the 
 remains of our angling ecjuipnient and returned to tiie house. 
 There we found that the tourist had left for good, and was 
 going to Dalhousie in his canoe to catch the night train for 
 St. .Foim, which was probably just as well for some of us. 
 
 ^ 
 
 t.' 
 
( HAPTER VII 
 
 Some yoiithfiill (lallaiit here perhaps will say 
 This is no pastime for a gentleman : 
 It were more fit at cardes and dice to play, 
 To use both Cence and danncing now and then. 
 Or walke the streets in nice and strange Arav, 
 Or with Coy phrases court his Mistris' fan— 
 
'' I 
 
 I' 
 
 < I 
 
 132 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATLHS. 
 
 began Imiiling the I.eavy Hsh i.p-stream t.)wards him, hand 
 over hand. To our shouts and abuse he paid no attention, 
 and so firmly was the sahnon hooked, and so good the tackle, 
 that he was nearly dragged to the gaff before the casting- 
 line parted, and the canoe silently dropped down-stream and 
 disappeared behind the island. The Judge and I looked at 
 each other for a moment in silence, and realising that pursuit 
 was hopeless and language inadequate, gathered in the 
 remains of our angling equipment and returned to the house. 
 There we found that the tourist had left for good, and was 
 going to Dalhousie in his canoe to catch the night train for 
 St. John, which was probably just as well for some of us. 
 
 li 
 
 I 
 
 its 
 
f 
 
 t 
 
 ssmmimi 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Some yoiithfiill (Jullant here pei-liups will sny 
 This is no pastime lor a geiitienian : 
 It were more fit at cartles and dice to plav. 
 To use both fence and danncing now and tlien. 
 Or waike tlie streets in nice and stranffo Aray, 
 Or with Coy phrases court his Nfistris' fan— 
 
 A poore delinrht with toyle and painfull watch, 
 With losse of time, a silly Fish to catch. 
 
 More ease it were, and more delight I trow, 
 In some sweet house to passe the time away 
 Amongst the best, with braue and gallant show ; 
 And with fair dames to dauncc, to sport, and play, 
 And on the board the nimble dice to throw 
 That brings in gaine, and helps the shot to |)ay ; 
 
 And with good wine, and store of dainty fare. 
 To feede at will and take but little care. 
 
 ■ I I).. Srnels oj' AiisHiis. \C)3Q. 
 
 I / 
 
I 
 
 
 I w 
 
 < 
 
 I 
 
1 
 
 the necessities of their avocation. 
 
 Modern science has Aveakened the ilhision which the 
 mother of angling so artfully and insidiously presented to 
 her dupes four centuries ago, and the angler of the present 
 time who is at all advanced in his views stays comfortably 
 in bed during that wretched period of the day before the sun 
 
 I 
 
7 
 
 ill 
 
 I. 
 
 ii 
 
 f 
 
 <« 
 
J 
 
 H OURS FOR A N G L 1 N (; 
 
 SOME OF THOSE WHO ANGLE 
 AND VARIOUS REFLECTIONS 
 
 AME JULIANA BARNES says that 
 ' tlie game of anglynge is prouffytable 
 to a man for it shall make him ryche.' 
 This statement she bases on 'the 
 olde Englysshe prouerbe,' ' Wlio so 
 woU ryse erly shall be holy, helthy 
 zely,' and as a man ' who woll vse 
 the game of anglynge must and ryse erly,' he therefore, 
 by being an angler, which involves the habitual practice 
 of this disagreeable feat, fulfils the prime condition of 
 wealth. It may be put thus: — A man who rises early gets 
 rich— anglers rise early, therefore anglers become rich from 
 the necessities of their avocation. 
 
 Modern science has weakened the illusion which the 
 mother of angling so artfully and insidiously presented to 
 her dupes four centuries ago, and the angler of the present 
 time who is at all advanced in his views stays comfortably 
 in bed during that wretched period of the day before the sun 
 
 
186 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 > ■ 
 
 has brightened the liorizon, when grey chilling mists ding 
 to the surfuce of the water, and all nature is rubbing her 
 drowsy eyes, and yawning and frowning as she wakes from 
 her slumbers and begins addressing herself to the duties of 
 anotlipr day. 
 
 It is then that the ambitious tyro, filled with this heresy 
 of Juliana's (which has, with many others, slid almost un- 
 challenged down through the ages), though ignorant of its 
 origin, sallies forth, grumbling at his misery as he feels the 
 dew from the dripping grass penetrate his legs, and the cold 
 dampness of the fog strike into '"is bones, but expecting his 
 reward of merit at the pool. This he Hogs in vain for 
 an hour or two, and returns exhausted and disheartened 
 to his breakfast, feeling withal the comforting sense of 
 duty performed, which endures until a friend comes in 
 from the same water with a brace of fine fish taken 
 at a reasonable hour and in a comfortable manner. To 
 be sure this early rising is excusable when done to outwit 
 a brother angler, and gain possession by first occupancy 
 of water that one otherwise would lose, or late in the 
 season, when water is low and fish languid. Even then 
 there are many more early mornings unfit for fishing than 
 fit for it. 
 
 Under the last conditions the evening is the better time, 
 and under the first the biter is oftt.ji bit. 
 
 In order to get the first chance at a throw in the Galway 
 I once arranged with my attL"!!<liint, Mike Brown, to be 
 awakened at half-past two in the morning, which, he said, 
 would ensure me the place. He came to Black's Hotel him- 
 self at the appointed hour ; I hurriedly dressed myself, and 
 
 \' 
 
 r'auMMti II 'i*"i 
 
\ 
 
 II or us FOH ANGLING. 
 
 J8T 
 
 ue raced throii^'li the deserted streets to the river. When 
 we had crossed the brid^^e and slackened onr pace, certain 
 that vvc were all rijifht, within a few steps of the cottage we 
 saw, to onr horror, one of tiie Hhike family walk ont from 
 behind it, rod in hand, and take possession of the only 
 station worth casting from. Of course I made believe I 
 liked the humonr of the thing, and Mr. Blake, in return, 
 politely affected sympathy for my fruitless labours. After 
 seeing him take a fine fish I still had several wretched hours 
 to i)ass before breakfast, and while slnvering about the cold 
 rooms of the hotel, vowed and re-vowed never to be such a 
 fool again. 
 
 The first one who, to lu^ knowledge, has noted his dis- 
 agreement with Dame Harnes in her views as to early rising 
 is one • H. 11.,' who wrote l"ic School of Recreation in 1G84. 
 He says, 'The salmon bites best in May, June, and July, at 
 three o'clock in the afternoon.' 
 
 Thomas Fairfax, in the Complete Sports/nun, about 1700, 
 tells us that ' his best biting time is at nine in the forenoon 
 and three in the afternoon, in clear water.' 
 
 The Innocent Epicure, 1097, recommends a different 
 hour, but still not an early one, as follows : — 
 
 • At midday, when the Sun exerts his Rays, 
 See on tlie Surface how the Wanton I'lays, 
 Then wisely tempt him, and, from Force or Choice, 
 You 'II see him nimbly to your Pastime Rife. 
 Strong be your Lines, your Hooks, your Riuis, and all, 
 And wise your Conduct, or he break the whole.' 
 
 None of these seem, however, to have much shaken the 
 general belief, which still exists, that early morning is the best 
 
 s 
 
u 
 
 f 
 
 138 
 
 IISHING IN CANADIAN WATKKS. 
 
 
 li I 
 
 time for fisliiiifr, and probably many valuable lives will yet 
 be saciiHml before common-sense in this respect lias full 
 sway, and tlie old tradition is finally buried. 
 
 RIy best results on the Histif.-ouche have been pretty well 
 on towards noon, and from f.)ur p.m. until about half-past 
 ei!j;ht, at which time the darkness comes in .lime and July. 
 \Mtb very low dear water, and hot weather, early morninj,^ 
 and late evenin..- Hshin<r- preferably the latter— are most suc- 
 eessfid; but the first run of fish seem to be in the best 
 takinof humour for two or three hours after nine in the 
 mornino-, and late in the afternoon, as a rule. On the 
 four best fishino- days I have ever had, I m^t nothin-.- 
 earlier than ten o'clock nor later than two. I would not be 
 the means of depriving any sportsman of the sad pleasure 
 he takes in rising with the lark, day after day. as one of the 
 conditions of his calling; but I Hnnly believe he will catch 
 more fi.ii in any one pool by leaving it alone until eight or 
 nine o'clock every morning than by harassing it three hours 
 earlier. 
 
 What one may see in the fresh dawn of a summer's day. 
 on a salmon river like the Histigouche is the chief recom- 
 pence, and it is a great one. 
 
 I sometimes think the love of nature that the sportsman 
 has is of a dillerent order from that felt bv the average 
 mortal. l'( rhaps it is a lower sentiment, in that it caimot 
 find its highest gratihcation in the smaller details of scenery, 
 -in one beautiful view, one rude mass of rocks, one statelv 
 tree, or one brilliant flower, but needs the entire effect. He 
 is not moved half so nuich by the serene beauties of I.ake 
 (Jeorge, oidy here and there showing the absence of man's 
 
 I ' 
 
 iiii 
 
 
V 
 
 
 Moiisi \ I 111 !■: lux; AN 
 
 I'-lcllilli; Liy 11. SWIIM \M. 
 
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 IgHH, 
 
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 HOURS FOR ANGLING. 
 
 139 
 
 hand, as by the sunset on some wood-surrounded, clear, and 
 lonely lake, with the trout breaking at the edge of the lily- 
 jKuls near the mouth of the cold stream which feeds it, tlie 
 loon calling mournfully in the distance, the startled sheldrake 
 and iier brood half-flying iialf-swimming at his approach, the 
 croaking bittern, with his laboured flight, the whole combina- 
 tion of water, forest, and animal life joining to produce a 
 subtle charm which no frequented place, however beautiful, 
 can yield. 
 
 ^Vhen the native animal life has been destroyed, or forced 
 through the proximity of man to seek homes less disturbed, 
 there is always a lack of that completeness of natural sur- 
 rounding which makes one feel that here is a spot just as it 
 
 was centuries ago. 
 
 IJefore the memory of man deer sought the water by this 
 well-marked runway — not stealthily by night, but mornings 
 and evenings ; and in the warm July and .iVugust weatlier the 
 heat of the day found them up to their backs in tiie cool 
 stream, lazily cropping now and then a tempting full-blown 
 water-lily close at hand, and slowly retreating before the first 
 rare human intruder. 
 
 The mud about the salt-lick at the foot of the lake has 
 for hundreds of successive seasons been marked with their 
 footprints, as it now is. 'i'hat mink stealing along the siiorc 
 to iiis hole in tiie heaped-up rocks is one of a long line 
 wiiicii lived and fisiied there before him. Tiie great owl— 
 which begins his wild serenade shortly after tiie last sweet 
 notes of the wood-pewee cease, answering the melancholy 
 and long-drawn call of the bear from the other shore- 
 is of a most ancient ancestrv of that ilk, which has 
 
 Bl 
 

 140 
 
 FISHING I\ CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 ! ,i 
 
 '11 'I 
 
 from time immemorial used yonder great beech-tree, now 
 in the last stage of decrepitude, as its nocturnal concert- 
 hall. 
 
 Let tliis lake become accessible, its beauties of water, 
 foliage, and adjacent mountains made known, and what is 
 the result ? The invasion of summer tourists ensues ; boats, 
 and even steam launches, are brought to it; uncomfortable 
 'camps' are erected on its borders; in a year or two all the 
 deer are murdered or driven off by night-hunting, the trout 
 are exterminated, and every small animal, and most of the 
 birds, are frightened away. The water is just tiie same, the 
 woods and the mountains just the same, but through the 
 absence of the appropriate animal life the completeness of 
 the scene is 'f( e. 
 
 If a forest is the natural haunt of various kinds of game, 
 it lacks something if tiie game is not there. If lakes, rivers, 
 and brooks have once been the homes of the brilliant trout, 
 the rapacious mascalonge, or the silvery salmon, and these 
 have been destroyed by tlie greed of man, the waters have 
 lost their chiefest charm to the sportsman, no matter how 
 great an admirer of natural beauties he may be. They are 
 like the face and form of a fair woman whose outward 
 loveliness promises mental attractions of which she is found 
 destitute. She may be admired but not loved. 
 
 So to the sportsman— and not to him alone but to every 
 lover of nature in her rounded completeness— are the lovely 
 pods and rapids of a river like the noble Connecticut, an 
 ideal home for salmon, lakes like the Saranacs, Au Sable, 
 and many others in the Adirondacks, all now bereft of the 
 lite which— such is their adaptation for its support— the angler 
 
 
 I 
 
■MR^HS 
 
 HOURS FOR ANGLING. 
 
 141 
 
 1 
 * 
 
 can liardly believe extinct without the evidence of his own 
 iailure to evoke it. 
 
 It doubtless seems to a gieat many an anomaly that 
 there should exist a love in the breast of the destroyer for 
 the creatures he destroys ; but it is a fact that the preserva- 
 tion of fish and game, which is due almost entirely to the 
 efforts of sportsmen, is not by any means owing to a selfish 
 desire for increasing their own amusement, nor to the more 
 important economic reasons they urge, but very largely to a 
 genuine love for the wild creatures of the woods and waters 
 as a necessary element in the whole scheme of nature, the 
 absence of which bereaves her, to them, of an essential part 
 of her charm. 
 
 The slaughter of fish is by no means the highest pleasure 
 of the angler. The r uscular exertion alone, under the 
 soothing influejices which generally surround him, is a 
 delight; the thousand indescribable attractions offered, and 
 indeed pressed upon him, by the sparkling waters, the sweet- 
 ness of the air, the rock-bound shores, and evergreen hills, 
 all insensibly add themselves to the joys of his pursuit, 
 and, perhaps without his suspecting it, form the chief part of 
 them. 
 
 There has been in this country for the past few years a 
 growing interest in angling, as well as in shooting and other 
 manly diversions, and its early development in the youth of 
 fashion is by no means devoid of ethnological interest. 
 
 In June of each year may be seen in the columns of our 
 journals the announcement that Mr. So-and-so is about starting 
 for his ' salmon preserves ' on some well-known Canadian 
 river; or a long interview is published with Mr. , in 
 
1, , \ 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 U2 
 
 IISIILNG IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 I 
 
 1 u 
 
 wliicli he kindly and inaccurately gives to tlie 'Commis- 
 sioner' explanations of the liabits of the fish, and unfolds 
 tiie uses of the different varieties of his tackle, which he 
 displays in all its amplitude to the eager scribe, intersj)ersing 
 the exhibition with reminiscences of his ex])loits on various 
 former trips of the kind, and well-coloured details of the 
 hardships and i)erils to which he is about to subject himself 
 in his arduous pursuit of sport. This is all in the line of 
 what Mr. W'eller terms an 'amable weakness,' and is not 
 to be derided, but enjoyed and connnended, as is anything 
 whicii brings the idle moneyed young man of tiie present 
 day to think it as correct a thing to scour tlie woods and 
 plains with riHe and gun, or with his angle explore the 
 water far and near, as to show himself in the window of 
 his favourite club, or while away the summer days amid the 
 enervating surroundings of Newport or Saratoga. 
 
 The members of tiiis class who choose angling as their 
 accomplishment do so, to some extent I fear, because they 
 consider the attainment of a passable ])r()ficieucy in this 
 art easier than in that of shooting. A dozen plausible 
 reasons occur in a moment to the ingenious mind to account 
 for ill-luck in fishing where one could be invented to explain 
 why a series of fair shots was missed. Indeed it is proverbial 
 tiiat fiction with the angler is a sure and frecpient refuge. 
 
 Two seasons, or even one, on a well-stocked salmon river 
 suffices to transform into an expert— in his own mind — the 
 novice whose previous experience has been confined to catch- 
 ing a few bullheads or perch in his early adolescence, or 
 possibly, in his later years, to trolling for blue-fish near some 
 seaside summer resort. He can tell tales of his prowess 
 
 i 
 
 L '■ 
 
 
^ 
 
 IlorUS FOR ANGLINd. 
 
 143 
 
 from wliicli the reasonable iiif'crciice is that his knowledge 
 and experienee rival those of Henderson. Francis, or Auck- 
 land. His Hies all come from Xorih Hritain. whence he 
 orders new patterns of his own invention — doubtless to tlie 
 great amusement of the Kelso artist — differing, one from the 
 other, in some nncrosco])ic arrangement of colour which he 
 ha.s discovered is irresistible to the salmon, and gives his 
 admirers the idea that the fish has an eye for the artistic 
 efltect of minute detfiils ecpial to that of the most pronounced 
 l)re-Ka])haelite. The most striking of these inventions he 
 honours by bestowing ii))on it his own name, and un- 
 affectedly extols its wondrous prowess, as well to the angler 
 he meets as to his large circle of accjuaintances, male and 
 female, at home. 
 
 These (and the news])apers) are wont to mention him as 
 a shining exam])le of a finished s])ortsman whom they all 
 yearn to, and some finally do, imitate, the costume alone 
 being a most seductive temptation to follow in his train. 
 This, of course, nuist be strictly in accordance with the 
 Anglomaniacal tendency of things here at the present day, not 
 for a moment admitting that anything else may be suitable 
 for a different climate and different siu-roundings. To look 
 like an English sportsman is his first ambition, not to know 
 how to get his sport himself by a study of the habits of the 
 fish, a knowledge of tackle, and the way to use it pro|)erly — 
 tliese are secondary details ; and our fisherman bedecks him- 
 self with angling trinkets, purchasing everything new of tiie 
 kind that he thinks may add to his natiu-al attractiveness 
 and si)ortsmanlike appearance. He is a mine of wealth to 
 the dealers in these articles; and certain of them which he 
 
 l! 
 
< 
 
 i 
 
 ■ (■< 
 
 144 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 11 
 
 tl 
 
 tliiiiks especially becoming he does not disdain to appear in 
 when returned to tlie scenes of civil life and occupation. 
 One veteran angler, made so by ten days on the llistigouche, 
 I saw come on board the steamer at Liverpool the following 
 year wearing the identical fly - bespangled felt hat which 
 had adorned him on the river. He devoted a considerable 
 part of his time during the voyage to the narration of his 
 experiences in the art of which he bore the insignia, and 
 succeeded in impressing several of his fellow - passengers 
 with the belief that most of his life had been spent in killing 
 salmon. 
 
 Another I knew, who, instead of aping the British sports- 
 man, considered the rdlc of the frontier scout and backwoods- 
 man the proper one for him to assume. Certainly until 
 middle life, and perhaps to this moment, he has been guiltless 
 of the slaying of any living creature. A chance fortnight 
 on a trout stream sufficed to convert him into the most 
 bloodthirsty sportsman I ever met. Our last interview was 
 on a scorching )iot day some summers since, when I was 
 trying to keep cool in a hammock under some trees near a 
 farmhouse on the outskirts of a country village. 
 
 My repose was interrupted by the shrieks of some 
 children who had been playing near me, and looking up for 
 tiie cause, I saw approaching my former acquaintance, attired 
 in a full suit of buckskin, fringed and beaded, his feet encased 
 in ornamented moccasins, on his shoulder a trusty fowling- 
 piece, and in his belt a huge bowie-knife. Throwing himself 
 down in unstudied gi-ace on the grass, he drew off' one of 
 the large gauntlets which protected his hands, slightly loosed 
 his knife in its sheath to be ready for any sudden onslaught, 
 
HOURS FOR ANGLING. 
 
 146 
 
 and evidently felt that the terrors of the cliiidren were a 
 fitting tribute from innocence to valour. He talked feelingly 
 to the people he had come to see of his want of success in 
 these parts, which was no discredit to his skill, as one might 
 go for miles without seeing a bird bigger than a robin or a 
 fish larger than a minnow. 
 
 I woidd not judge harshly these gentlemen or those of 
 their class. From their ranks come certain ones who after a 
 time cast aside the superficialities, at first their chiefest joy, 
 and become sportsmen from the love of the thing, while the 
 mass of them, after having done enough for glory, slip back 
 to their accustomed sphere. 
 
 There are more of these dilettanti in the angling than in 
 the shooting way, because, as I have said, a glaze of the 
 former art is much easier acquired. There is but little work 
 necessary ; and a man can make much more capital out of a 
 week passed at a comfortable club-house, with a good Indian 
 to fish for him when fatigued by the imaccustomed work, 
 than by carrying a gun across rough ground six or eight 
 hours a day, or lying behind a blind through a bleak north- 
 easter, with one or more cruel companions at hand to pass 
 harsh judgment on him. They are sometimes brought to 
 grief as completely as Mr. Winkle was, when forced by cir- 
 cumstances to try to make good their pretensions; and 1 
 think Dickens truly depicted the type in his hero, in giving 
 him a thousand desirable and amiable qualities as an offset 
 to his harmless vanity. 
 
 If fashion dictates that one shall go i'; \:\Q woods and 
 rivers, expose himself to the sweet influences of nature, glide 
 in the birch canoe of the Indian down the crystal flood of 
 
 T 
 
^1' 
 
 f 
 
 14() 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 i; 
 
 I , 
 
 a river like the Ilistigouclie, see the flmiigiiiff panorama of 
 spmce-chul mountains, foaming rapid, or seehuled intervale 
 revealed at each turn of the stream, it is d«'iiig a good thing 
 for him and putting him in the way of seductions which will 
 be very apt, if otlen undergone, to establish a strong and 
 wholesome sway of their own. 
 
 It seems as if nobody could be insensible to the healthful 
 charms of life in the open air in a world just as God made 
 it, with exercise enough to keep the body sound and the 
 mind active, the cares only the trivial ones of so simple a 
 form of existence, the joys simple also, but thereby all the 
 more enjoyable than the complex and artificial amusements 
 of towns. The serious labours of life are returned to with 
 zest after the freshening up the mind and body take in from 
 a short approach to the primitive forms of nature. The 
 effect of simple abstinence from work, even among pleasant 
 surroundings, is not the same in its resting quality, perhaps 
 because it carries with it no sense of anything accomplished. 
 Any man to whom the thing is not habitual, feels a great 
 satisfaction in proving his possession of that faculty which, if 
 necessity required, would enable him to cope successfully 
 with the normal conditions of life— that he could, if he had 
 to, get along agreeably on the most meagre comforts, or 
 create them by his own ingenuity from the materials offered 
 by nature, throwing aside as supei-fluous and effeminate the 
 mass of the customs of civilisation. It is the unconscious 
 delight of a sound mind in the reversion to an aboriginal 
 mode of life. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon a few years since, we were sitting 
 on the piazza of Camp Harmony, and in the midst of a 
 
 H 
 
 h 
 
I 
 
 IIOUUS Foil ANCiI.IN(J. 
 
 Wi 
 
 heavy tliunderstonn, saw ii canoe with two men desfeiidin^' 
 the UpsaUjuitch. From its small size and coniparativoly 
 high ends we tiiought it a Madawaslvu or St. .Fohn craft, 
 wliich we found was the fact wlien it stopped at our lan(Ung. 
 The navif^ators were an Indian and a white man, the hitter a 
 stout, rubicund, elderly gentleman, who came u]) to the camp 
 in res])onse to our invitation. He was well browned with the 
 weather, quite ragged, and bore other unmistakable marks of 
 a long campaign in the woods. We set him down after a 
 few moments of conversation and refreshment as a college 
 professor or a clergyman, with the chances in favour of the 
 lay calling from his travelling on Simday. This reasoii 
 turned out to be misleading, as when he told us that our 
 first supposition was correct, he also said that his failing 
 larder was the cause of his going down that day. After 
 feeding him and persuading him to bring ashore his kit and 
 pass the night with us instead of continuing his voyage in 
 the storm, he gave an account of his travels which made us 
 feel like the veriest milksops and pleasure-seeking idlers. 
 
 His canoe, which he bought twenty years before, had 
 carried bin' sv.id his guide or assistant each successive summer 
 since over thousands of miles of the most unfrequented water- 
 ways of Canada, and his present trip might be taken as a 
 fair sample of all. He had started six weeks before we saw 
 him from Andover in his canoe, ascended the St. John River 
 to the Tobique, the Tobique to its head, whence by a long 
 portage he had reached a tributary of Nepisscguit Lake. At 
 the lake he |)assed a few days, and shot a moose ; his course 
 thence was dowti the Nepisseguit River, which Hows from 
 the lake, to a portage leading to the ntrth-east fork of the 
 
 t2 
 
WBPi 
 
 mm 
 
 148 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATEUS. 
 
 iiSt 
 
 Upsalquitcli, about fifty miles above our camp. Tije journey 
 liad been made leisurely, and the trout-rod furnished a large 
 portion of his food, though he had laid in at starting of pork, 
 potatoes, and Hecker's prepared flour, what his scanty freight- 
 room would hold. This flour he considered the greatest boon 
 ever offered by science to the camper, as by simply mixing 
 it with water a delicious loaf of bread could be prepared and 
 baked in a small tin oven, which he used at other times fur 
 a packing box, all in ten minutes. His kit had been, through 
 long experience and innate cleverness, selected and arranged 
 so as to give a great many necessities and Home comforts of 
 hfe in a w<mderfully small space, and in shape for easy por- 
 tagmg, whicli every one familiar with this iiardest branch of 
 woods' experitiiLC will appreciate. Some of his contrivances 
 and inventions were admirable in their simplicity and adapta- 
 bility ; ami the sum of them enabled him to travel with a 
 comfort which it '(-emed inij)ossible to obtain out of the 
 weight and bulk of tlie materials wliich yielded it. 
 
 In the morning he started down-stream for Campbellton, 
 twenty miles distant, to buy flour, pork, and i)otatoes, and 
 two days later he passed up the Histigouclie on his way to 
 the W'augan brv>ok, one hu)idred miles distant, expecting to 
 ascend tiie eight tedious and fly-infested miles of that 
 wretched streamlet, carry across three miles to the CJrand 
 Uivcr, down which he woidd paddle and wade to tiic St. 
 .(ohn, where he would And plenty of water to take him back 
 to his starting-point. Had it not been for his holy vocation 
 we should have taken cum ^raiia his statement that when he 
 began these hard trips he was a delicate, weakly man, with 
 a strong tendency to consuniption. as a more thorough imjjer- 
 
 Ul' 
 
 J_^ ' . . -»•*- 
 
 I 
 
HOU.US roU ANGLING. 
 
 U9 
 
 soiiatioii of liealtli, vigour, and toiighnjss, it would be hard 
 to find, lie liad acciuired the hardness and insensibility to 
 the eff'»cts of wind, water, and cold, that comes to those who 
 are f-zustantly exposed to the elements. 
 
 I have been out for weeks in cold weather with Indians 
 who had no blankets or tent, and in some cases not even 
 coats, simply because they were too lazy to take them on 
 starting. They slept on the ground, sometimes without any 
 fire, nnd only in case of protracted rain taking the trouble 
 to make the least protection for themselves, and never com- 
 plained or seemed injured by the exposure. The men engaged 
 in the great spring drives of logs undergo an experience 
 ;vhich would be (juickly fatal to the average man. i\t the 
 first brcaking-up of the ice— which does not come, in the 
 streams, from its thawing out, but from the rising of 
 the water underneath caused by heavy rains — the logs 
 are set afloat and started on their downward journey of 
 sometimes hundreds of miles. They are attended by tiie 
 drivers, whose duties arc to see tiiat tiiey do not run aground 
 on the various bars and islands, of which the river is full, and 
 that jams occuriing from these and otiier causes are broken 
 before a large accunnilation of logs takes place. All this 
 involves being in the i'-y water almost consttnitly from twelve 
 to sixteen hours of each da", generally from daylight to dark. 
 Tlie water for a montii or six weeks after the break-up is 
 cold, it fre(|uently freezes hard at nigiit, and iieavy snow 
 storms are not rare. A scow bearing the store of provisions 
 acconipan.es tiie drivers down-stream, and their only shelter 
 consists of a long strip of canvas about three yards wide, 
 which is stretclied at nigiit on poles set in the ground at an 
 
 1 
 
•i 
 
 150 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 I 
 
 angle of about forty-five degrees. Under tliis scanty and 
 one-sided protectioji tiie men lie down on the soaked ground 
 in their wet clotlies, and at most one poor blanket, and sleep 
 the sleep of the just until roused by the foreman at early 
 dawn to plunge again into the chiUing snow-water. 
 
 These men pass us every June, and their drives interfere 
 seriously with our fishing as they get near, >.,d trouble us 
 more or less much before, stringing along for a fortni' '-< or 
 more in advance of the main body, or rear, as it is cai. i. 
 
 Finer physical specimens than these drivers it would be 
 iiard to fi.id. The rough life and very hard work seems 
 neither to affect their health nor their spirits. They are full 
 of play and joke, and their nightly camp-fire is enlivened by 
 laughter and jest as genuine and jolly as are heard anywhere. 
 Their cheerfulness and good humour are especially noticeable, 
 and they enjoy their life more than those do whose sym- 
 pathies its hardships excite. 
 
 1^ 
 
 ( . 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 I' 
 
 n I 
 
 
■^JTr-c^i I HI 
 
 CHAPTER VUI 
 
 Not gladder Shobden's wealthy peer 
 
 Views his fat oxen and liis deer, 
 
 Nor peeress, when her alms slie gives, 
 
 Nor those her Charity relieves. 
 
 Nor Gripus as he scans his store, 
 
 And counts and counts it o'er and o'er, 
 
 Nor Stella, decked in nuptial pride, 
 
 '/I A' II I • M . 
 
 14 
 
 ^gH^^^^^g^a^^^^jHinii 
 
150 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATIIRS. 
 
 I 
 
 .1,: 
 
 I 1 
 
 1 
 
 tingle of about forty-Hve degrees. Under tiiis scanty and 
 one-sided protection tlie men lie down on the soaked ground 
 in their wet clothes, and at most one poor blanket, and sleej) 
 the sleep of the just until roused by the foreman at early 
 dawn to plunge again into the chilling snow water. 
 
 These men pass us every June, and their drives interfere 
 seriously with our fishing as they get near, and trouble us 
 more or less nuicli before, stringing along for a fortnight or 
 more in advance of the main body, or rear, as it is called. 
 
 Finer physical specimens than these drivers it would be 
 hard to find. The rough life and very hard work seems 
 neither to affect their health nor their spirits. They are full 
 of play and joke, and their nightly camp-Hre is enlivened by 
 laughter and jest as genuine and jolly as are heard anywhere. 
 Their cheerfulness and good humour are especially noticeable, 
 ' "'"" ""■"" ^'"'''- •'^■'' """•'' M'H" those do whose .svm- 
 
 } 
 
 I ^4 
 
 |i I ' 
 
 Ir 
 
 "M' COciKINt; .SIIAMV 
 
 luchinK l.y Mr.,. .A, I.k.x .\|,..i,„i , r . 
 
 [ 
 

 CHAPTER Vlll 
 
 Not gladder Shobden's wealthy peer 
 Views his fat oxen and his deer, 
 Nor peeress, when her nlnis siie gives. 
 Nor those her Charity relieves. 
 Nor Gripus as he scans his store. 
 And counts and counts it o'er and o'er, 
 Nor Scella, decked in nuptial pride, 
 And just about to be a Bride, 
 Than I to feel, O bliss Divine ! 
 
 A salmon floundering on my line. 
 
 Old Song. 
 
'V 
 
 .1 ' 
 
 (: 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 
 Im4 
 
 il 
 
 11 
 
 I 
 
We expected to meet them there on that day, and directed 
 them to bring sufficient provisions in their canoe to hist tliem 
 for the whole, and us for the downward, journey of three days. 
 
 When we reached St. John, N.15., we found the trains 
 up the St. John River ran in a most inconvenient way for 
 
 u 
 
 ^ 
 
f I 
 
 •/;■• 
 
 il ! 
 
 f; 
 
 II 
 
 K 
 
 ■ 4 
 
 ? 
 
THE WAUGAN ET INFRA 
 
 5 
 
 -^ 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 5 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 i 
 
 vS^ 
 
 iik^I3 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 ^fcifl 
 
 
 
 X .Iiiiie '81 Lawrence and I decided that, 
 instead of taking the conventional route 
 to the Ristigouche, we would go by 
 the way of the Waugaii portage, which 
 connects the head waters of tiie St. 
 John with those of the Uistigouche, and 
 descend the entire navigable lengtii of 
 the latter— about 120 miles. An (occasional) sea-faring friend 
 of ours whom I will call Daniel, as that is his name, and who 
 was ostensibly going to the Uistigouche Club, joined us— or, as 
 he thought, was joined by us in this project. As a prejjara- 
 tion we wrote to our Indians to leave the Mission on June Titii, 
 which would give them to the 17th to pole up to the \\'augaii. 
 We expected to meet them there on that day, and directed 
 them to bring suflicient provisions in their canoe t(» last tiiem 
 for the whole, and us for the downward, journey of three days. 
 
 When we reached St. John, N.l}., we found the trains 
 up the St. John River ran in a mobt inconvenient way for 
 
 V 
 
154 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 , i 
 
 ' 
 
 
 I w 
 
 us, there being but one a day, and no connection with that 
 at Fredeiicton, where we had consequently to pass tlie 
 niglit; and it was not until the morning of June 18th that 
 we left there by the narrow gauge New Brunswick and 
 Maine Road for 'Violet's' on the Grand River, a tributary 
 of the St. John. 
 
 We had a slow disagreeable journey, with a raging snow- 
 storm for several hours of the day, and it was nine 
 o'clock in the evening when we were left off at Violet's 
 house, which we found a fairly comfortable one for the 
 country, though I preferred, after looking at my sleeping 
 apartment, to take up my quarters for the night on the 
 floor of the sitting-rt)om, which the experience of my com- 
 panions proved was good judgment. 
 
 We breakfasted at four next morning, and took our 
 departure for the A\'augan, which was reached by way of 
 the Grand River, a fair-sized creek. \'iolet had provided 
 for us and our luggage three old leaky log canoes, two 
 Frenchmen, and a horse to haul the whole up the stream. 
 Fortunately, just as we were starting, John Dedame, one 
 of our Indians, appeared; from him we learned that the 
 canoes had reached the ^^'augan two days before, and he 
 had been sent through to look us up. He at once assumed 
 command of the expedition, and changed the order of our 
 canoes, which the Frenchmen had arranged to have towed 
 up single file by tlie horse, put a stout sapling to which 
 a tow-rope was attached across the bows of two of 
 them, thus holding them abreast, had the third fastened 
 on behind, and standing with his pole astride of the fore- 
 most canoes managed the tow-rope, and pushed them aside 
 
 ii' 
 
 
THE WAIIGAN ET INFRA. 
 
 1S5 
 
 from the varioiis shallows, rocks, and other obstacles we 
 were constantly meeting. One Frenchman rode tiie horse, 
 generally in the bed of the stream, avoiding the deep 
 holes, and occasionally venturing on a slow trot. At half- 
 past ten we stopped to feed the horse and eat the dinner 
 N'iolet had put up for us, and found by (juestioning John 
 that we 'nid accomplished five of the fifteen miles in tiie 
 four hours' travel. 
 
 On being informed of our slow progress, and the 
 prospect of the crew having to stay out all night, the 
 supernumerary Frenchman, who until then had been a 
 stolid passenger, astounded us by bursting forth in violent 
 imprecations against his companion who had been riding 
 the horse, at the same time vaunting his own .skill as a 
 jockey, and swearing that had he been in the saddle 
 the gentlemen would now be very near the top of the 
 river. By artfully praising the spirit of .(\ntoine, and 
 adding our mite to his objurgations of Aristide, he was 
 induced to take the horse from ce coclion and show the 
 Messieurs how a fine rider would 'make ze canot to ascend.' 
 We found Antoine as good as his word; he mounted the 
 steed in great excitement, cursing the coclion in one 
 breath, waving his hand and smiling at us in another, and 
 started off at a round trot amid storms of applause and a 
 salute fronj our battery of a rifle and shot-gun. 
 
 We went gallantly for a half-hour, Antoine constantly 
 looking back for the praise so freely given, until suddenly 
 horse and man disappeared from view in a dcej) ])ool they 
 had gone into without noticing. It seemed a long time 
 before they came to the surface, and when they did it 
 
I 
 
 15G 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKIIS. 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 >. ' fi- 
 
 was only after (juite a struggle and another vanishing from 
 sight that tlie liorse gained footing. Antoine alighted rather 
 crestfallen, and iVristide did not conceal his approval of the 
 mishap. A driiik of whisky and a few consolatory remarks 
 reviveil the rider, and he remounted. Atler a few moments 
 of caution he regained his spirits, and dashed on with all 
 iiis i)ristine ardour, occasionally swinnning his horse across 
 a deej) ])ool instead of going round it, and giving John all 
 he could do to |)revent our ruiming ashore at the frequent 
 turns we encountered. 
 
 -iVntoine's only other mishaj) was caused by his horse 
 tri])])ing on a root and tlirowing him several yards over 
 its head, luckily in water deep enough to make the fall a 
 harmless one; and at about four o'clock we saw a smoke 
 ahead, Avhich John said was made by our men, who had 
 crossed the portage to meet us. An hour later found us 
 across the three miles of the portage, and with the canoes 
 at the Waugan brook, down which we had to go eight 
 miles to the llistigoudie. The men had built a bark shanty, 
 and we were going to set up one little tent for the night, 
 being both tired and hungry, when we accidentally found out 
 tlie only food they had was about half-a-|)ound of pork, 
 two hard biscuits, and a small ])inch of tea. With the 
 improvidence of their race and their natiu-al appetite, en- 
 hanced l)y the winter's semi-starvation, they had consumed 
 the ])rovisions laid in for the wliole trij), and John Dedame 
 had not thought it worth wiiile to tell us of our plight 
 at \'iolet's where we could have got enough to tak( 
 through. AVe divided and devoured the pork and bist 
 at once, pocketed the tea for future use, and then decided 
 
 1 
 
 ! 
 
li 
 
 THE WAUGAN KT I NT. 'I A. 
 
 157 
 
 to get to the inoiitli of tlie brook that niglit, tliougli the 
 Indiuns advised waiting, as it was very sliallow and crooked, 
 and, they said, impassable after dark. We started, however, 
 as soon as we could, and the first four miles were got over 
 by tiie canoes being dragged and ])ushed most of the way 
 by a man at each end, we lying down flat in them to avoid 
 the overhanging alders. 
 
 The Indians had prepared the bottoms of their canoes for 
 the hard usage by cover'ng them with long sheets of hem- 
 lock bark, bound on with withes, and even with this defence 
 they were a good deal strained. It was nine o'clock when 
 we reached the llistigouche, and, after pitching t)m- tent in 
 the rain, went to bed wet and sup|)erless, with no prospect 
 of anything to eat ])efore reaching Laferge's, the house 
 highest up the river, and forty miles distant from us. We 
 were quite willing to rise early next morning, as, except the 
 little tea which we made from that saved, we knew no 
 morsel would pass our lips until J.aferge's was reached. Wv 
 got there about two in the afternoon, being somewhat 
 delayed by scarcity of water for the first few miles, and 
 found two of our countrymen who were fishing the p )ol 
 thereabout. After a trifling hesitation they entertained us 
 hospitably, and we soon forgot our woes of tiic past twelve 
 hours imder their ministrations. 
 
 Just above Laferge's the Kedgwick joins the main river, 
 the size of both being about ecpial. They differ however in 
 one im])ortant respect : nearly, if not (juite, all tiie salmon go 
 up the Kedgwick, and are not seen in the llistigouche above 
 the forks, though to human perception the adaptability of 
 both waters is the same. After dinner we pushed on for the 
 
1,18 
 
 FTSIIING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 Ml 
 
 .' : I) 
 
 mouth of the Patapedia, the second hir<?e trihutarv, where we 
 were to pass the niglit. There were a good many salmon in 
 the liver — all large ones — being of the first run, which goes 
 straight through to the head \ -aters, and does not take the fly 
 at all until they reach their destination. Consequently tlie 
 angling begins at tiie head of the river, and fish are caught 
 plentifully there l)efi>re they are at IMatapedia. 
 
 We had no right to take a salmon above Indian House, 
 but the trout-fishing is free ; and as we learned at Laferge's 
 that the sea-trout had l>cen seen in the Devil's Half-acre, 
 a few miles below, decided to stoj) there a little while 
 and catch oin- supper. 
 
 The ])ool is small, but excellent both for salmon and 
 trout ; on the way down I ])ut up my troiit-rod, passing Avith 
 a pang the salmon lying in the lo\ely streams of Soldier's 
 (iulch. Trotting Ground, and other uimamed and untried 
 pools. y\t the Devil's Ilalf-acre — so called from the appear- 
 ance of the shore, wiiich is a mass of huge boulders said to 
 have been heaved up from below by his Satanic irajesty — 
 Jaccjues stopped my canoe just above the corner of a large 
 projecting rock where the current swept along so strongly as 
 to leave a long streak of white foam in its course, and on 
 the first cast I made in the stiller deep water, at the outer 
 edge of the eddy, I had a rise like that of a salmon, and 
 was fast in my lirst fish of the year. In ten minutes I put 
 the gaff in him, and he proved a beautiful sea-trout of four 
 pouiuls, quite large enough for the strong water and ligiit 
 rod. I quickly took two more of two i)ounds each, and then 
 stop])eu, as we had to hasten on to reach tlie I'atapedia in 
 time to make camp. A run of good-sized sea-trout accom- 
 
! 
 
 i 
 
 liia'l l.'s II A l.i- \c k I-; 
 i;uliiii,i; liy 1 ', U. Ml KiJA-, 
 
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 re, 
 

 THE WAUGAN ET INFllA. 
 
 159 
 
 panies the first salmon, and with tliein goes iiigh up the river, 
 only an odd one being found in the lower part. Indeed 
 the habits of the sea-trout are quite as interesting, and vary 
 as much in different rivers, as those of the salmon. The 
 females of the first run have the ova well-developed, and, I 
 am told, spawn in September and October. There is another 
 run in the early part of September in which the ova are in 
 about an equal stage of forwardness ; and still another run in 
 November when the first ice begins to form. These are 
 caught through the ice with bait in great numbers, and in 
 them the spawn is very small, evidently requiring months for 
 its maturing sufficiently to be deposited. 
 
 In other rivers, the Nepisseguit, the Nouvelles, the 
 Scheminac— the two last exclusively trout rivers— the great 
 run of them takes place in July, and the best of it is past 
 and gone before the trout are at all plentiful in the Risti- 
 gouche. They have been, without any known reason— though 
 the natives attribute it, with their usual logic, to the artificial 
 propagation of salmon — decreasing of late years in the Risti- 
 gouche, though the fishing in September and October, and 
 earlier than that, near the tideway is excellent, and six to 
 eight pounds is not a very rare weight to take. 
 
 We got to Patapedia in time to prepare comfortably for 
 the night, and furnish our tent with a good stwe of boughs. 
 A settler's house near by provided us with bread, milk, and 
 pork, and with our trout split down the back, and broiled on 
 a forked stick before the embers, we made a perfectly satis- 
 factory meal. 
 
 When we awoke on Sunday we found it very cold, and 
 raining hard, and I reluctantly addressed myself to getting 
 
f 
 
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 M 
 
 ill 
 
 |i 
 
 nSlTNG IN CANADIAN IVATKKS. 
 
 r ' ' «^".'" "^ "■»' "•'■«. My .„„„„ i 
 
 "ere gomg to reniam at Patanedi-i fill Ar i 
 
 I.. 1- TT "i«4'euu till Monday, and fish 
 
 '"";:" """^^ """ '■"- '■'■'»' ''"* on t„ei. „;.„,„,, 
 I .,"■«,'"' ;'r" :"'" '"^ ^"-^ ™-"«' ^"■■- "«•. 
 
 : '*•■ "^ "»'""■ '■"""" -- .i..i". .V annour. . „,, 
 
 1 « left t,. ,„.„„ .,„ „„ ^„|,^„.^^ ,,_^^^^ ^^ 
 
 ;' ' •'"7 '" "*■• '-" '""■ -.ins; b„t, after the ,„a„„er 
 "f the. k„„l, when ,„„.. „„.,, „,, „.„, „„, ,„ ,^ j ' 
 
 and we were „hh«e„ t„ break „pe„ „,. hae..do„r t„ . ' 
 » e „a„, „.. H,„ «. ,„ .,. „^, ,^,.,„^,^_ „ \J^ 
 
 .neal, a,,d ,a..a .he rest of .he .lay h, ,,,«,, thi,,,. .;, 
 
 the'!ir '"" ;""'';™'''«' "•'-■ "- «"•"" I.-1 ceased and 
 lea, snnse. and soft s„„.h wind ,.,ve an en.irely dif. 
 
 tae aspee. .„ nature, ,,„., sat „„ .he „„., i,, „ 
 ned,.a.,ve p,„e and he,™ .„ appreciate that I was at h„t 
 >vl.ere for ,„„nths . had h,n«ed t„ he. The s ws w^" 
 
 "«* he honse whe,. .he .afters n,eet at the peak o^ the 
 
 oot; .he ronnded .op „f s,p,aWs Cap M „ „ ,,„,„,,. 
 
 dehned a»an,s. the deep hine „f the sky; the ro,,i„s were 
 -K."« joyfnily, as if to express their eontent at the change 
 
 '"" "" ";''' """ ' """- ""i"l. had prevailed all dav ; a^l 
 
 l.e erys alhne L'psahpntch was leaping alon, to „|, „ ,„, 
 »-so,„ „, ,ts stronger sister, and I. by her carried to the sea 
 l).ree.ly n, fron. the C, ool, beneath whose strean,. an,l 
 
 I 
 
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 I V, 
 
 (JNE DAY'S CATCH 
 Dr.ma by J. \\ vi i.in-'K Tayldr, elcliwl l)y G. h. l-i.uuiiii. 
 
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tin; WAicJAN lyr infjia. 
 
 Uil 
 
 behind the rocks wliose whereiihouts is denoted by many a swirl 
 and break of tlie water. I know are now lying the great sahiion 
 fresh from the boisterous North ^Vtlantic, where tiiey have 
 for months been voyaging beyond the ken of inan, hapi)ily 
 unconscious of the perils before them. One leaps high from 
 the water just wiiere tlie two rivers meet, another a few 
 moments later comes u]) at a fly further out ; and, after an 
 interval of quiet, just as the sun is disappearing behind the 
 hill in front of me, a big one almost at my feet startles me 
 by coming straiglit up out of the water and falling back 
 broadside witii a splash that, in the absence of another sound, 
 could be heard a (piarter of a mile. I began to feel that 
 this might be the eve of such another happy day on the pool 
 as the one on which it yielded to two of us seventeen 
 salmon on a still and burning afternoon, all taken in the 
 same place, as many lost as killed, and plenty more ready for 
 the fly when we stojiped from a sense of shame. 
 
 I was ([uite ready to go to my tent at the end of the 
 long twilight, though after getting there I lay awake for 
 hours listening to the noises which one hears in the most 
 solitary places the first nights he is alone. In the morning I 
 found another of the frequent weather changes had taken 
 place, and a cold wind from the Hay of Chaleurs ha'l brought 
 back the clouds. As the moment approached for the first 
 throw of the year, 1 felt that my anticipations of the evening 
 had been baseless. Hut putting on a new casting-line and a 
 large 'Jock Scott' fly, we went out and anchored the canoe 
 near the meeting of the waters, and a little above where we 
 had seen the flrst fish jump in the evening. 
 
 It was not until the second drop that I rose a fish near 
 
 X 
 
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 16S 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 1 1 
 1 
 
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 J: 
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 l< ' 
 
 I Is 
 
 i 
 
 the middle of tlic river, but he came so slii}<gislily tliat lie 
 only made a liiinp on tl»e top of the water several feet below 
 tiie Hy. So indifferent did he seem that before going over 
 him again I changed the fly for u small and brilliant 
 • Diiriiam Ranger,' thinking it best not to show him the 
 'Jock Scott' again lest it might prevent his taking some- 
 thing he did like. I fished him slowly and carefully until 
 the fly went over him a few feet below where he first rose; 
 then he came indeed ! the waters parted with a great wave 
 as he rushed at the fly, showing half his back and bis broad 
 tail as he went down. From over-eagerness he missed it 
 clean, and in my agitation I pulled it away too soon or he 
 would have had it on the second try, as he turned and 
 followed the Hy for several yards when it was moving oft". 
 In two or three minutes I regained my calmness and again 
 ottered him the * Ranger,' which he at once came iip to and 
 took in a more deliberate way and carried to the bottom. 
 We had time to get up an anchor before the salmon dis- 
 covered he was hooked. When he did, off" he went down 
 and across stream at such a ])ace that I surely thought 
 he would run ashore ; but he hto])i)ed just in time, then came 
 towards us faster than I could reel in and the Indians pole 
 up-stream, turned again and swam off" straight down the 
 middle of tlie river. 
 
 The men dropped their poles, seized their paddles, and 
 started after him, while I made him fight for every inch of 
 line, expecting he would soon stop; but such a thought didn't 
 enter his head, he never halted or hesitated, but kept on 
 taking out my line rapidly though I put on as heavy a strain 
 as I dared. Very soon my one hundred and twenty yards 
 
 :^ 
 
 JI.V 
 
w 
 
 Tin; \VAl'(iAN KT IM'llA. 
 
 ](» 
 
 wiis nearly jfone, tlic men were imddlin^ tlieir best, and tlie 
 tip of my g(M)d Forrest rod was within a yard and a half of 
 my hands. iVU was useless af,'ainst the si)eed, power, and 
 determination of the fish. In another instant the eastinj^-line 
 parted, the vexed rod sprang hack, and a monient after we 
 saw the salmon leap out of the water a (piarter of a mile 
 below us. Three days later M'Kniffht, one of the river 
 guardians, brought up my fly and a piece of my casting-line, 
 which had been fouiul fast in a large tish taken in one of the 
 estuary nets nearly twenty miles furtiier down. This verified 
 the statement I had heard and read before, that salmon some- 
 times, when badly jjricked, returned to the sea if not a great 
 distance from it, going probably either from fright or for the 
 healing of their wounds. As a rule they are more sensitive 
 to injuries than trout, and death often results from their suc- 
 cessful fights with anglers, in wiiich the injuries received 
 would hardly keep a trout from his feed for an hour. It 
 may be that their violent exertions when hooked wear them 
 out, and cause the fatal ending more than the hurts, as I 
 once took a fish with fully half-a-pound lately bitten out of 
 his side and back, just forward of the adipose fin, probably 
 by a seal ; and it is a well-known and curious fact that 
 salmon which have escaped from the nets, bearing the marks 
 and deep cuts of the twine on their backs and fins, are freer 
 risers than their unscathed companions. 
 
 I have preserved a strong argument myself in contradic- 
 tion of this theory of the effeminacy of salmon, in the shaj)e 
 of a '.lock Scott' fly and half a casting -line which I took 
 from the mouth of one late in .June 1883. The fish was 
 killed by a friend of mine in the evening, and besides the fly 
 
 n 
 
 L 
 
 if 
 
 s> 
 
164i 
 
 riSIIING IN CANADIAN \VATI:RS. 
 
 J 
 
 
 he carried, bore another evidence of serious conflict in a dee]) 
 "aft' wound in his shoulder. 
 
 1 found by inciuiry that this sahnon had been hooked the 
 morning before by a gentleman fishing Alford's Avater, a 
 (juarter of a mile below us, who had ])layed him for about 
 an hour, and dragged him nearly to the shore with his gaft' 
 before its hold gave way. He rose to the fly that finally 
 killed him with great eagerness. 
 
 lleturning with a new casting-line and fly to the spot 
 where our first failure occurred, 1 very soon rose another 
 fisii, which missed. I threw my line carelessly over the other 
 side of the canoe, where I had already fished, with my eyes 
 fixed on the water, still agitated by the break, when I'eter 
 exclaimed, * Hy golly!' aiul I siuudtaueously iiad the rod 
 nearly jerked from my hands by an unex])ected sahnon, to 
 which the ' Duriiam Kangcr ' had appeared in exactly tiie 
 right j)osition. He started off like lightning down-stream, 
 and for u moment we feared he was going to imitate the 
 tactics of his companion we had lost ; but iiis intelligence was 
 not ecpial to such direct effort, and lie spent himself in 
 rushing about here and there, doing ([uite as nuicii work as 
 sufficed to free the other, and would have won the buttle for 
 him had it been as well api)lied. It made me think iioAV, like 
 salmon, a great many men fail and ])cnsh in the race of life 
 thrcnigh the misdirection and waste of exertions, which, if 
 concentrated on one goal, would ensure success. Our fisli 
 I)robubly thought he was using all his powers in the best 
 way, even when .laccpies stuck the gaff in his twenty-nine 
 and a half pounds of beauty and shapeliness and hauled him 
 to the beach, to be knocked on tiie head with a short club. 
 
 ■i 
 
 In 
 
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 Tin: W AUG AN ET INTRA. 
 
 Ui.5 
 
 « 
 
 t,"* 
 
 As soon as tins was done we liastened back to the risin<>; 
 salmon we had Ictl, and lie came up at once to the ' Hanger,' 
 but so short that I changed the fly for one that for several 
 years was a great favourite t)f mine and the fish, but wliicli 
 of late they have inexplicably lost their liking for. It is best 
 of a large size, with golden jiheasant topping, rough clar,;t 
 body, a heavy hackle of light blue, and rather heavy wings 
 of wild turkey. This \.-as the ?-e(iuired article, and the salmon 
 took it with a dasi'. and determination that slu)wed he, or 
 rather she, meant business — most of this first run being 
 females : and I had a very lively time for nearly three-cpiarters 
 of an hour before the struggle was ended in my favour and 
 my day's sport over. 
 
 The fish was almost a counteqmrt of the other in shape 
 and size, Aveighing only half- a - poimd less, and was hooked 
 outside under the cliin. The time it takes to kill a salmon 
 hooked in the lower part of the Upsahpiitch Pool is greatei- 
 than in any otlier part of the ri er I am familiar with. If 
 the Hsh reaches the heavy water below the mouth of the 
 Lpsahpiitch })retty fresh, lie is almost certain to take the 
 angler to a bend nearly half-a-mile down, where the force of 
 the current is sufficiently abated to so lessen its hel)) to the 
 V ining energies of the fish, that he can be coaxed to the 
 gradually shoaling beach on the Quebec side. The water is 
 deeper on the New IJrunswick shore ; but as salmon lie there 
 which should not be disturbed, and the bottom holds various 
 big, sharp-edged rocks, it is on the whole better to land the 
 fish on the other side. As every moment a salmon is fast 
 increases the chances of losing him, ;: greater tlian ordinary 
 proportion escape in this piece of water, and they should 
 
 \^mam 
 
'I 
 
 III ' 
 
 166 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 r. 
 
 
 )• 
 
 always be played as hard as the tackle will bear from tlie 
 bejiinni'ig. Indeed 1 think this is one of the rard'nal rules 
 of salmon-fishing in any water. Unless a salmo;i is fairly 
 well hooked, he won't be landed in any case. To he sure, 
 many are taken where the hold remainin<!; is very light, often 
 a mere thread of skin, and we see that another moment's 
 exertion would have set the salmon free. Hy ])laying hard I 
 don't mean tryuig to tow your fish ashore, and engaging in 
 a hauling match with him, but keeping him on a short line 
 unless he insists on a pull ;f over three or four pounds, and 
 then reeling in at once as soon as tlie fish shows the least 
 symptom of yielding, keeping opposite or below him all the 
 time if water and shore allow it, and making him fight your 
 strain in addition to tliat ot the cm-rent. One feels much 
 more comfortable, or should, to lose i\ fish after a brisk fight 
 of five or ten minutes than to have him get away at tlie 
 end of an hour's dawdling. 
 
 1 have seen men stand on the beach with their salmon 
 tln-ce-parts deatl, and anxious to be gafi'ed and have it over, 
 and try to encourage him to take one more run, absolutely 
 pulling from the reel the line which the poor victim hadn't 
 strength left to start himself 
 
 Such fishermen generally lose two-thirds of those they 
 hook, and ought to lose them all. 
 
 Returning to camp with my brace of handsome fish, and 
 rid of the annual foreboding as the season approaches that 
 I iiave killed my last salmon, I ate my luncheon, prepared 
 l)y Jim, our Indian cook, and after two hours of repose 
 started out for Nelson's Kock Pool, half-a-mile above, whidi 
 I fished carefully but without a rise. This pool is a long 
 
 
 I'lilllil 
 
 
THE WAUGAN ET INFllA. 
 
 167 
 
 i 
 
 one, the water at the top being rough and quite d°ep, with 
 a sharp ledge of rocks running out from the sliore, and 
 reac'liing the bottom b' a very gi-adual descent. I once 
 hooked a fish here wliich hud risen once just below where 
 this ledge entered the water. I was casting from a canoe 
 anchored in the stream outside, and, wanting to throw my 
 tly a little above the ledge that it might Hoat down where 
 the fish was, by mistake it went on the rock itself. A slight 
 twitch pulled it in the water, and the instant it touched the 
 surface, to my surprise I saw the salmon — a big one— come 
 from the deep below, swim swiftly towards the fly, and, when 
 the water got too shallow for him, turn on his side, and finally 
 seize the object of his desire where the depth could not have 
 been more than three or four inches. All the very feAV 
 salmon I have observed in the act of taking a fly have 
 turned on their side, or jjartially so, as a preparation. If this 
 is habitual it accounts for so large a proj)ortion being hooked 
 in the sides of the mouth. 
 
 Below the ledge of rocks the water gradually grows 
 shallower and more leisurely in its movements, and the pool 
 terminates in a long flat. The fish in this \mo\ are greatly 
 influenced in the positions they choose by the stage of 
 water, more so than in any part of the river 1 know. A 
 rise of two or three inches will send them down-stream 
 fifty rods or more, and the fall of the water causes tiiem to 
 go at once to the upper part of the pool. This makes it 
 sometimes wearisome work to find where the fish are. In 
 Captain Sweny's water, on the New Brunswick side of the 
 same stretch, there is one place where the fish stay all the 
 time, and it is oidy a question of their being willing to 
 
 iifii 
 
 aiiiiiniiimn 
 

 11- 
 
 i \i 
 
 l-il: 
 
 III 
 
 mn 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 take. From Nelson's Rock I Avent down to tlie Iliali llock 
 Pool in tlie bend of tlie river, luilf'-a-niile below the camp. 
 I)ut was e(ixially unsuccessful. Just as I returned home 
 I heard the shouts announcing the approach of my tAvo 
 friends ])add]ing doAvn the river. They had fished Indian 
 H'Hise and Cross Point in the morning, getting three good 
 salmon, and unable longer to resist the attractions ( f Camj) 
 Harmony and plenty to eat had ])ushed on Avitliout AA'aiting 
 to make a good day's score, Avhich they probably could 
 liaA'e done by remaining. .lim Avas instructed to ])repare 
 the best meal our larder Avould yield, and Ave passed the 
 cold evening in blissful ease and perfect content in front 
 of our fireplace. 
 
 Next morning A\'as bright and AA-arm, not quite clear, 
 but Avith a haze Avhich tempered Avithout obscuring the 
 rays of the sim. i\fter a leisurely breakfast om* friend Dan 
 regretfully embarked for Mata|)edia, Avhere domestic cares 
 and the luxuries and conduct of the Club aAAaited him, 
 while I^aAvrence and I started for JNIoAvat's, three miles up 
 the riA'er. In front of MoAA-at's house, on the Ncav Bruns- 
 wick side, and for a third of a mile doAvn, is the pool. It 
 is smooth and sAvift-running, and the bottom is generally 
 level and gravelly. Along this reach, Avhich one Avould not 
 select as a particularly favoiu'able resort for fish, I have had 
 the finest of sport. Near the loAver end for a space the 
 bottom is clayey, and salmon don't lie there. .lust beloAv 
 the clay the Avater becomes stronger, and close by the 
 shore is a small Avhitc rock marking the begiiming of a 
 short rapid and the turning of the chaimel to the Quebec 
 sliore. At the end of this rapid begins another pool called 
 
m 
 
 THE WAUGAN ET INFRA. 
 
 169 
 
 Mowat's Rock Pool, and a beauty it is. A great ledge 
 projects far oivt in the stream, around the point of which 
 the obstructed current boils and swirls in foaming disquiet, 
 gradually losing its vehemence towards the New Brunswick 
 side and below as it finds its course no longer baiTed, and 
 after a period of numberless dancing ripples subsiding into 
 a dignified luivexed flow between the wooded banks to the 
 head of Nelson's Island, where its troubles again commence. 
 
 The morning was just right, the w.tter was just right, and 
 there were plenty of fish in the river; yet I tried carefully 
 down the long reach in front of JMowat's to the clay 
 bottom, where we had always stopped, without rising any- 
 thing but a few small trout and wretched little parr, which 
 were tenderly replaced in the water with the hope they 
 might repay the kindness by being caught a few years later. 
 
 Jacques, as usual in periods of depression, conversed 
 freely on angling and other topics. 'Fust time,' said he, 
 'salmon caught w'th fly in dis riber, man name M'Kenzie, 
 Englishman, he go up to Indian House, an' have two 
 canoe, me an' John Morrison in one, an" Joe my brudder 
 an' Larry dey in tudder. IM'Kenzie he neber fish till he 
 git to Indian House jes at sundown ; den he go out, an' we 
 laugh to ourselves at little rod an' de fly, an' say, " Salmon 
 iiv-^ber look at dat, an' if he does maybe catch one he break 
 loose sure." WeW, M'Kenzie he git six dat evenin', an' we 
 all tink he pison inn, an' we 'fraiu to eat um w hatcher. So 
 he make great fishin' sit Indian House dat time, an' at place 
 below we call M'Ken/.ics Pool — you know dat place. Great 
 fi*.liin' in Ristigouche dem days 1 ' 
 
 At the conclusion of this tide the conversation turned to 
 
 V 
 
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 ill 
 
 170 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 u 
 
 iff 
 
 
 .( 
 
 the subject of different Iiulians of my acquaintance, whom 
 I inquired about, and at last mentioned Louis Michel. 
 Jac(jues said, ' Well, I tell y«)U 'bout Louis. Well, las' 
 winter, 'bout Crismas, Louis he come to church — you know 
 he master singer at de mission ; so dis day he come to 
 church very drunk, an' he sit down in fiont seat. Priest he 
 preachin' very hard like, an' Louis he set dere with head on 
 him bans — lie could not hole it straight — an' he look at 
 priest. Den priest he say somethin', an' Louis he stick up 
 his head an' he say, " Dat dam lie," very loud like, an' den 
 he put his head in his bans agin. Priest he look at him 
 very savage an' den go on preachin'. Bimeby, atter a httle, 
 priest he say somethin' more, den I^ouis he look up agin an' 
 say, "Dat dam lie." So priest he stop minute dat time an' 
 look very cross, den he go on preachin' agin ; an' atter a 
 little longer he begin to preach loud, den Louis he stjin' 
 riglit up an' say, "Dat dam lie." So de priest he stop 
 preachin' an' jes jump down an' take Louis by de neck 
 like, an' he kick him all de way trough de church what- 
 eber, an' he kick him out de door, an' he say, " \'ou vaga- 
 bone, you eber come to dis church agin, I break your dam 
 neck 1 " ' 
 
 This tale finished, I concluded that my two hours' casting 
 was enough for glory, and we Avould go home, when, as we 
 were about starting. .laccpies saw a salmon rise at a natural 
 fly near the toj) of the ni\nd below us ; so we dropped 
 down just past the clay bottom, and 1 began fishing with 
 a small silver-gray fly I had tried the day before. We got 
 iu)thing, and lifting the anchor went down to about fifteen 
 yards above the white stone before mentioned. I com- 
 
T 
 
 THE WAUGAN ET INFRA. 
 
 171 
 
 niencecl castiiiff towards the middle of the stream where 
 Jacques had seen the tisii, and wlien the Hy came around 
 about in a hue with and certainly five yards from the 
 stone, we saw through the glassy and shallow water a 
 salmon dart from behind it, and with true aim seize the 
 silver-gray. He was so lightly hooked that I lost him 
 before we could get to shore, which I did not so much 
 regret, as from the position of the canoe we should have 
 been obliged to disturb the place where I now knew the 
 rising fish lay. 
 
 To get in the right position we poled the canoe further 
 up-stream and inshore, so that I could just reach the rock 
 with a long cast. The first time the fly approaciied it again 
 it was taken quietly under water without a glimpse of any- 
 thing. There was an immediate and steady pull on the line, 
 whif'h I yielded to until I reached the bank and had followed 
 him down along it well past the white rock, then 1 began 
 putting on the pressure till the tight-strung line and arched 
 rod show^ed the danger of increasing the strain. The fish 
 yielded not a bit, and would occasionally move off at a good 
 but even pace toward the other side of the river, stop, appar- 
 ently when he felt he had gone far enough, and gradually 
 come back in a way that seemed as if he did so only to 
 please himself As we got down in the rapid these promen- 
 ades were of shorter duration, but still entirely devoid of 
 the dash and snap salmon generally show. I thought, as did 
 the Indians, that it was a very heavy fish, and iiad we lost 
 him would have sworn it. Ten minutes brought him to the 
 beach, and Jacques waded in with his gaff", when for the first 
 time the fish rose to the demands of the occasion, started off 
 
mm 
 
 mm 
 
 172 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 ' 
 
 Jl ! 
 
 down-strear^ as he should have done at first, and gave me 
 ten minutes of good spot before being killed. He was a 
 fine well-made fellow of twenty-one pounds, and not being 
 hooked in a sensitive part, probably never knew what was 
 tlie matter with him until he saw Jacques coming with the 
 gaff. 
 
 I returned to my post a cast above the whits stone, 
 and in a slr^rt time took from behind it two more salmon of 
 about twenty poimds each, and lost a third before starting 
 for the camp. On our way down, as we were passing through 
 the foot of the Rock Pool where the water was ([uite shallow, 
 we saw two good-sized salmon, one of them wth two white 
 marks across his head, and one near his tail, made by the 
 tideway nets he had escaped. The canoe passed almost over 
 them, and they only glided lazily a few feet out of the way. 
 We iumiediately went in to the shore, poled up abo\e, and I 
 cast over them with several different flies ineffectually, then 
 giving it up, floated down over them again. About four that 
 afternoon I came back to the Rock Pool, and began work at 
 the top of it with tlie same silver-gray fly I had used in the 
 morning. After a few casts I rose what I thought was a large 
 trout or grilse — though very early for the latter — missed him, 
 and as I was reeling ui my line he followed the fly and made 
 another fruitless dash at it. I immediately cast back in the 
 same place, as I would for a trout, and the fly had hardly 
 touched tiie water when the fish came with a rush and great 
 splash, seized it, and was off. Refore l*eter could raise the 
 anchor he had been all over the pool, and as we began to 
 paddle towards the beach he came straight to us, and I 
 thought would go under the canoe. Jac(|ues was e(|ual to the 
 
w 
 
 m 
 
 ' 
 
 THE WAUGAN ET INFRA. 
 
 17fJ 
 
 
 occasion, and slapped his paddle on the water two or three 
 times, which made the fish sheer off a little, and directly I 
 saw him jump high out of the river ahove us. As my line 
 had been slack for some time, despite my vigorous reeling up, 
 I thought he was free, as he would have been if the hook 
 was not very firmly set ; but as he turned after his leap, to 
 my joy I felt the strain again, and down-stream the gallant 
 salmon went at a tearing rate, obliging us to defer landing 
 and to follow in the canoe. He turned and stJirted towards us 
 again, when he hud run out seventy-five or eighty yards in 
 spite of me, and again I had a lot of slack to take up. All 
 this time we were edging up to the beach, and when within 
 a dozen yards of it I jmnped out of the canoe in water hip- 
 deep, and ran to the bank, finding before I got there that the 
 fish was still fast. He then went down-stream, apparently as 
 fresh as ever, with an occasional jump from the water, for 
 certainly a (juartcr of a mile, a good portion of which I was 
 obliged to run at my best speed to keep any line on my reel. 
 Near tlie top of Nelson's Island, a half-mile below the pool, 
 the gravelly beach ends, the trees and alders grow to the 
 water's edge, and had the salmon got as far as that I should 
 have had to take the river again with the odds against me 
 in the shape of a heavy rapid of considerable length full of 
 sharp rocks. Just before we reached the trees, however, the 
 fish went straight across stream, swam up a little way, then 
 stopped, and as I began reeling in I found he gave steadily, 
 though reluctantly, to the pressure. I walked out in the 
 water a sliort distance— .Facques further out, and somewhat 
 below — keeping all the time a steady and strong drag on the 
 salmon. When he came to a little outside the line where 
 
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 riSIIING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 
 fl 
 
 .Iu('(nies stood quietly bendinjjf over till only his head and 
 shoulders were above water, I eased up, the current took the 
 wearied fish slowly down tail foremost, .Jacciues plunged the 
 steel into his silvery side, and bore him struggling to shore. 
 On examination we found him to be the same salmon with 
 the marks of the net we had seen in the morning at the 
 bottom of the pool, and wliich wouldn't then rise. He 
 weighed twenty-three pounds, and was as game and active a 
 fish as I ever killed. His rise at the fly was (piick and deter- 
 mined, like that of a hungry trout, and Avhen hooked he 
 never ceased fighting as long as he could stir a fin. For the 
 first ten minutes of the encounter I felt perfectly helpless, and 
 the salmon would have escaped half-a-dozen times had he 
 not been very firmly hooked and the tackle perfect. It is 
 only from a rare engagement like this that one can fully 
 appreciate the capabilities of resistance in a fresh-run salmon, 
 which, unfortunately for the species, are not often fully exer- 
 cised. As this contest had pretty thoroughly disturbed the 
 Rock Pool, instead of fishing longer there we went down to a 
 pool half-way to camp where AVeir's IJrook empties into the 
 river. It is a likely-looking bit of water, and I had often 
 tried it unsuccessfully before ; but this time at the first stop 
 I hooked a good fish with the same fly I had used before. 
 I soon got ashore, and found him one of the sulky kind, 
 requiring frecjuent stoning to start him up from his trips to 
 the bottom. It was nearly dusk, and the air full of sand- 
 flies, the first we had had, which tormented me beyond 
 endurance, as both hands were fully occupied with the rod, 
 and I had no unguents with me. There was no tree or bush 
 near to get a wisp from, but Jacques' ingenuity did not fail 
 
 lii 
 
THE WAUGAX ET INFllA. 
 
 176 
 
 liiin. If^norant of tlie ciiusc, I felt a not particularly balmy 
 breeze about my head, and on turnin<f I found it was caused 
 by my faithful attendants shirt, which he had kindly taken 
 off — probably for the first time in months — and was brandisli- 
 injr it around my face with a most <fratifyin{^ eU'ect on the flies. 
 I would not have sto])])ed him in the fulfilment of iiis generous 
 impulse, even if I could have done so without hurtiiiff his 
 feelings, and he only resumed the garment to gaff the fish in. 
 This sahnon was in excellent condition, and weighed twenty- 
 two pounds, but was no more to be com])ared to the one 
 taken before him in courage and activity tiian is a Canadian 
 })ony to an Arab. 
 
 IJelow Weir's lirook, and near the foot of Nelson s Island 
 on the New Brunswick side, the stream narrows, tlie current 
 grows stronger, and forms quite a deej) eddying hole under 
 the bank of the main shore. This little pool is scarcely 
 fifteen yards long, but when the water is just the right 
 height holds fish, which lie close under the bank and also 
 well over towards the shore of tiie island This fact was 
 discovered a few years since by a dear friend of mine now 
 departed, and the place was named by me for hun the 
 'Judge's Pool.' From its looks it would not be taken as a 
 favourite resting-place for fish ; but in salmon-fishing, as in 
 other things, it is not safe to trust always to appearances. 
 On the .Judge's first fishing — and probably a fl\ had never 
 been cast in it before— he took three salmon, and many a 
 one thereafter. A peculiarity of the ])ool is that its fisii are 
 uniforndy large, and when you get one you are almost 
 certain of one or two more before leavinsr. 
 
 Here we found Lawrence witii three salmon. He had 
 
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 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 risen and pricked four more, and just as we went by he 
 hooked another, which he brought to camp with the rest 
 half-an-hour later. This last was a fish of thirty-four pounds, 
 the largest of our catch, the others twenty-three, twenty-six, 
 and twenty-seven pounds each. This day's sport showed as 
 its residt nine salmon averaging about twenty-four pounds 
 each, and besides those which were sent away and eaten we 
 had enough to make a good start towards filling one of the 
 pork barrels we had brought for salting such fish as we 
 couldn't use. 
 
 Next to the enjoyment of an excellent day's sport is the 
 return to a comfortable camp at the close of it, with no en- 
 cumbrance of cares or duties ; the leisurely and satisfying meal 
 of simple food, then the chairs drawn up before the blazing 
 fire, made necessary by the chilly evenings of the northern 
 climate ; the talk of the happenings of the day, and the sweet 
 sense of healthy fatigue that at a ridiculously eariy hour 
 makes- you yield the pleasures of conscious existence amid 
 such surroundings to the desire for sleep, and such sleep as 
 you get on the elastic beds of hemlock boughs, quiet and 
 dreamless, making you wonder on awaking that morning has 
 come so soon, and feel that you haven't enjoyed the night 
 half as much as you might, from the very fact of the 
 perfect rest — the result you have, but the process is a 
 blank. 
 
 We arose to find that the great drive of logs above had 
 been started by the recent rise in the river, which was now 
 full of them, and the fishing during the remainder of our 
 stay was limited to an hour or so in the early morning 
 before the drivers began work, and an occasional period when 
 
THE WAUGAN ET INFRA. 
 
 ITI 
 
 the drive was stopped by some jam. Iea\iiig but few logs 
 moving. 
 
 Salmon soon get used to logs runnijig over them, and will 
 take the fly about as well as at other times. I have not 
 unfrequently hooked salmon within a yard of a log floating 
 down, but when they are thick it is very risky both for 
 canoe and tackle. The ten succeeding days of our stay were 
 uneventful so far as our sport was concerned. We managed 
 to pick up between us two or three salmon a day, and 
 towards the last a few grilse, which we were glad to get, as 
 broiled over the coals they are better than tiieir elders. 
 
 The salmon has an individuality about him shared by no 
 other fi':h I know of I don't remember ever killing two that 
 acted just alike, and every year I find in them some new 
 feature of craftiness or sagacity to admire. As a rule the 
 oidy act of folly a salmon commits is in taking the fly at all, 
 and after yielding to that indiscretion he is very likely to 
 exhaust the possibilities of repairing it before giving in. 
 
 The day before we left I had been up the river in the 
 afternoon, and when I returned to the Camp it was very 
 nearly dark. We had some visitors from the Club, one of 
 whom had been vainly fishing the camp pool, and went in 
 as we approached. 
 
 Jacques, who always fancies he and 1 can do better on 
 that piecf of water than anybody else, proposed we should 
 give it a trial before landing; and though I did not par- 
 ticularly warm to the project I consented, and he put the 
 canoe down at the lower end where the two watere meet. 
 
 To my surprise, in half-a-dozen casts I rose a fish to a 
 large blue and brown fly. He would not come up again 
 
 z 
 
 I 
 
J 
 
 178 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 though I presented him several varieties of insects, until from 
 the group of spectators who were chaffing me on the bluff 
 was sent a large white miller. To this he rose twice, rather 
 languidly ; then I again applied to my friends and received a 
 Norway fly fully as big as a sj)arrow. In the fast-falling 
 darkness the fish came at this quite close to the canoe— and 
 missed. Another faint rise and he would have nothing more 
 to do with it. I then resinned tlie original blue and brown, 
 and though it was so dark 1 couldn't see the Hy touch the 
 water five yards off, the salmon did, and took it at once. 
 ^Ve had a great time killing him, as he was a strong active 
 fish of twenty-nine pounds, and took us down nearly half-a- 
 niile. They sent a lantern from the camp and three gaffers, 
 as a good deal of betting had been done as to my hooking 
 him and killing him after he was hooked. 
 
 When I went in with the fish one of my guests 
 demanded five dollars as my subscription to a blind pool 
 on tiie weight, he having constituted liimself my agent in 
 the matter and lost 
 
 Our friends stayed with us till the moon rose at eleven, 
 and then embarked for Matapedia in their canoes, leaving us 
 with depressed spirits at the prospect of om- own departure 
 the following day. The sad moment came, and we reluc- 
 tantly left tiie scene of our bliss. 
 
 The lofty peak of Sipiaw's Cap (Aabit octaguesen) stood 
 outlined in blue against the siunmer sky, and the pellucid 
 river sparkled gaily in ti.e sun as it bore us swiftly and 
 silently on its .strong current away from Camp Harmony. 
 
 As we swept along the ui)per end of the Rafting-ground 
 Pool we saw tliree great salmon balanced almost motionle.-s in 
 
THE U'AL'GAN ET IMUA. 
 
 179 
 
 ) 
 
 the quick water, and as we caine on them away tliey darted 
 out of sight in an insttmt, one determined sweep of their 
 powerful tiiils starting tliem faster than tlie eye could f< Jow. 
 Our friends at the Club did their best to make our stay over 
 night there agreeable, but as usual only succeeded in giving 
 us a fuller appreciation of the manifold charms of the Risti- 
 gouche river. And as the train bore us ofF to civilisation and 
 work we would gladly have exciianged our comfortable seats 
 and our prospects for the mouth of the Waugan Brook, and 
 the sujiperless and drenched nights we passed after getting 
 there. I wondered as we went on how much to us would 
 come true of the verse of the anonymous poet, who wrote 
 in 170(5— 
 
 ' Angling tends our bodies to exercise, 
 And also souls to make lioly and wise, 
 By heavenly thoughts and meditation — 
 This is the angler's recreati<H>.' 
 
 Klililln; l.y Ml-,. A. I.KA Ml Kkii i. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
1 
 
 'f 
 
 178 
 
 IISIIING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 though I presented hiin several varieties of insects, until from 
 the group of spectators who were chaffing me on the bluff 
 was sent a large white miller. To this he rose twice, rather 
 languidly ; then I again applied to my friends and received a 
 Norway fly fully as big as a sparrow. In the fast-falling 
 darkness the fish came at this <juite close to the canoe-and 
 missed. Another faint rise and he would have nothing mon 
 to do with it. I then resumed the original blue and brown, 
 and thougii it was so dark 1 couldn'', see the fly touch the 
 water five yards off', the salmon did, and took it at once. 
 We had a great time killing iiim, as he was a strong active 
 fish of twenty-nine poimds, and took us down nearly half-a- 
 mile. They sent a lantern from the camp and three gaffers, 
 as a good deal of betting had been done as to my hooking 
 him and killing him after he was hooked. 
 
 When I went in with the fish one of my guests 
 ilemanded five dollars as my subscription to a blind i)ool 
 
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 II : 
 
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 THE WAUGAN ET IMUA. 
 
 no 
 
 i 
 
 the (juiek water, and as we came on tliem away they darted 
 out of sight in an instiuit, one detennined sweep of their 
 powerful tails starting them faster than the eye could follow. 
 Our friends at the Club did their best to make our stay over 
 night there agreeable, but as usual only succeeded in giving 
 us a fuller appreciation of the manifold charms of the Risti- 
 gouche river. And as the train bore us off to civilisation and 
 work we would gladly have exchanged our comfortable seats 
 and our prospects for the mouth of the Waugan Brook, and 
 the supperless and drenched nights we passed after getting 
 there. I wondered as we went on how much to us would 
 cojne true of the verse of the anonymous poet, who wrote 
 in 1700— 
 
 ' Angling tends our bodies to exercise, 
 And also soids to make holy and wist*. 
 By heavenly thoughts and meditation— 
 This is the anglt-r's recreation.' 
 
 X 'I 
 
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 €a.\im ^alino. 
 
 \ 
 
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 CHAPTER IX 
 
 As inwiird love breeds oiitward talk, 
 
 The Hound some praise and some the Hawk ; 
 
 Some better pleased with private sport 
 
 Use Tenis ; some a Mistris court : 
 
 But their delights I neither wish 
 
 Nor envy while I freely fish. 
 
 Who hunt, in danger often ride ; 
 Who hawk, lure oft both far and wide ; 
 Who game, shall Losers often prove ; 
 Th' unwary Youth who falls in Love 
 Is fettered in blind Cupid's snare — 
 Nfy Angle breeds me no such care. 
 
 The C'oiiiiilfdl Aiighr, Itij.'i. 
 
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 4 
 1 
 
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 I; 
 
 'I I 
 
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1 
 
 
 ll 
 
 passed in waiting for the welcome tidings from Matapedia 
 that the fish have gone up the river; and the prospect of 
 again wielding the rod from a canoe, even without catching 
 anything, seems enchanting; although we know that when 
 realisation is reached, continuous days of salmon-fishing with 
 no success soon get monotonous, even amid the finest scenery. 
 
 i% 
 
 ) 
 
r 
 
THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 HE prospect for 1885 seeined very 
 brilliant, as :l does evrrj year at a 
 thousand miles dis 'ince when Nature 
 is putting on her summer garb; the 
 insect world again becomes populous, 
 the papers announce Penobscot salmon 
 on the markets, and the balmy air, 
 the warm and gentle showers, and the vigorous songs of the 
 birds, all make us long for rushing rivers, wide forests, and the 
 rise of the salmon,— or indeed almost any other fish that 
 swims. From the beginning of June, when these attractions 
 work with increasing power, every day seems lost that is 
 passed in waiting for the welcome tidings from Matapedia 
 that the fisii liave gone up the river; and the prospect of 
 again wielding the rod from a canoe, even without catching 
 anything, seems enchanting; although we know that when 
 realisation is reached, continuous days of salmon-fishing with 
 no success soon get monotonous even amid the finest scenery. 
 
 1, 
 
 M 
 
r 
 
 N 
 
 
 \ 
 
 184 
 
 FISinNCi IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 The news from the Ristigouche in June 1885 were 
 especially encouraging. The fish struck the New Brunswick 
 coast below Charlo, on the Bay of Chaleurs, and the nets 
 from there to the estuary of the Ui'itigouclie were making 
 very heavy takes of large salmon. We left Montreal the 
 night of June 22 by the Intercolonial road, had breakfast 
 next morning at l*ointe IjCvIs opposite Quebec, and the day 
 was passed travelling througii the beautifid country of the 
 Gulf Coast, with the bold and lofty ranges of the Laurentian 
 Mountiiins at our left for hours. ^Ve hurried along by 
 tpiaint French hamlets, each with its disproportionately large 
 and handsome church, looking just as they have for the 
 past century or two; the long narrow fields, made so by 
 the division of farms for generations, so that each new 
 owner might have a frontiige on the road ; the inmunerable 
 priests, full-fledged and 'in training,' who seem to have no 
 occupation in life save travelling and hanging about the rail- 
 way stations; all these joys were ours, and fitting prelude 
 for those we knew were awaiting us. At half-past six in 
 the evening the train reached Matapedia, for a wonder, on 
 time; and on the platform awaiting our coming, with others 
 of their countrymen, we saw and greeted with effusion our 
 Indians, whose emotion at the meeting was, as usual, far 
 less than ours, and its expression successfully concealed. 
 They got our luggage from the cars, reported all the sup- 
 plies — ordered a month before — as taken to Camp Harmony, 
 tlie tents, crockery, and cooking-stove brought down from 
 Nelson's, where they had been stored, the fence mended, 
 plenty of wood cut, a lamb slaughtered, the cook at his 
 post, and, Jacques added, ' Plenty salmon in ribber ; saw 
 
 ■i 
 
 j2j 
 
 m 
 
 --~"-~*f'!ge 
 
THK SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 185 
 
 four big one jump :.. Camp Pool dis moniiir, I tink we 
 make great fisliin' whateber.' 
 
 At the Club, where we passed the night, we were told 
 by our hosts that the fishing had not been first-rate, as 
 tliere was more netting than usual in the estuary, and that 
 one of the fishermen had acted on the bright idea of stretching 
 his net entirely across the stream, thereby catching every 
 unfortunate salmon that had escaped the perils below. The 
 fishci-y officer, a pusillanimous creature, had been afraid to 
 seize the net or to enforce the law that all nets should be 
 lifted from six p.m. Saturday till six a.m. Monday, the result 
 being that despite the enormous run there were few fish in 
 the river, while the price at Campbellton, from the nets, 
 had dropped to 3 cents per pound. 
 
 Political influence, which is as potent and pernicious in 
 Canada as in our own country, had been used to secure 
 permission for several new sttuids of nets, which of course 
 had added to the destruction. These stories, with others 
 concerning the great activity of the drifters up the river, 
 rather dashed our high hopes,— no*^ an unconnnon tiiiiiji. I 
 have noticed, as happening to all sportsmen when drawing 
 near the scene of action; but we slept off our disappoint- 
 ment, and in the morning embarked in our canoes for the 
 voyage of six miles to the Camp, a heavy rain in the night 
 having made the road too muddy to go on foot, as is our 
 usual custom. 
 
 The river was rather high, thereby favourable for poling, 
 and in two and a half hours we reached the goal of our 
 wishes for months past 
 
 All hands turned to and unpacked the supplies, washed 
 
 2 A 
 
 / 
 
i 
 
 (I 
 
 t) 
 
 186 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 the crockery, filled the closets, suspended our hams and 
 bacon from the rafters overhead, nailed our works of art 
 anew to the walls, and wrote the date of our arrival on a 
 smooth beam below eight similar inscriptions. Our beds of 
 boughs a foot in thickness, soft, elastic, level, and fragrant, 
 were inspected and approved, the blanket thrown on them, 
 and our first meal announced. The rest of the day, being 
 
 
 Sunday, was passed in meditation, reading, and longing for 
 the morrow. Tlie setting of the sun left a keenness in the 
 air which made a fire necessar)' in the great fireplace, and 
 seated before the glowing, crackling pile of fat birch logs in 
 our easy chairs we smoked the pipe of peace and goodwill 
 until ten, when Lawrence and I retired to our tents, Captain 
 
 ./ 
 
1 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 187 
 
 Sweny, the third of our party, preferring to take up his 
 quarters in the house. My httle tent, vvhicli I have before 
 described, is pitched in front of the house, on the bluff' 
 directly over tl>e pool, and next to the large and imposing 
 one occupied by Lawrence. 
 
 Nelson's cow, which occasionally gets inside our fence, 
 nearly wrecked it once the sununer before by stumbling over 
 the ropes in the dead of night, scaring me out of my wits. 
 
 .'' '>■', i/-i h/A. I / i ,), I , : /• 
 
 I r 
 
 into a stew, coming to feed on the short sweet grass ot the 
 little plateau, and the faint waking chirp of the birds as 
 the first streak of dawn a})peared ; then the robins began 
 their song, followed soon by the cawing of tiie crows from 
 a settlement they had across the rpsahiuitch, as they pre- 
 pared to set out on their daily maraudings among the 
 
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 186 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 the crockery, filled the closets, suspended our hams and 
 bacon from the rafters overhead, nailed our works of art 
 anew to the walls, and wrote the date of our arrival on a 
 smooth beam below eight similar inscriptions. Our beds of 
 boughs a foot in thickness, soft, elastic, level, and fragrant, 
 were inspected and approved, the blanket thrown on them, 
 and our first meal announced. The rest of the day, being 
 
 K\'KN1N(; IN CAMI' HAKMONV 
 lly W. (i. liUKN-MiKIKicM : iMigravfil Ijy Annan ind Swan. 
 
 Sunday, was passed in meditation, reading, and longing for 
 the morrow. The setting of the sun left a keenness in the 
 air which made a fire necessar>' in the great fireplace, and 
 seated before the glowing, crackling pile of fat birch logs in 
 our easy chairs we smoked the pipe of peace and goodwill 
 until ten, when Lawrence and I retired to our tents. Captain 
 
 t 
 
^ 
 
 TIIK SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 187 
 
 Sweny, the tliird of our party, preferring to take up his 
 quarters in the liouse. My little tent, whieh I have before 
 deseribed, is pitched in front of the house, on the bluff 
 directly over the pool, and next to the large and imposing 
 one occupied by Lawrence. 
 
 Nelson's cow, which occasionally gets inside our fence, 
 nearly wrecked it once the siunnier before by stumbling over 
 the ropes in the dead of night, scaring me out of my wits. 
 But if undisturbed by incidents of this character, I would 
 rather than sleep elsewhere lie awake on my aromatic couch, 
 listening to the passing of the breeze through the birches 
 and spruces on the steep hillside close by, and the changing 
 sounds of the ripple of the pool at my feet, interrupted 
 now and then by the splash of a leaping salmon. First 
 niglits are generally wakeful, and thereby give more time 
 for conscious enjoyment ; but after a day or two of work in 
 the open air, how sweet the slumber Avhich overcomes one 
 five minutes after he has lain down, and holds him so fully 
 in its power that it recpiires the evidences of daylight and 
 his renewed vigour to pro\e that he has closed his eyes for 
 more than a moment. 
 
 The first night was no excejrtion to the ride of inter- 
 rupted sleep. I heard several times the hopping ste])s of a 
 great northern hare, fated a few days later to be con\erted 
 into a stew, coming to feed on the short sweet grass of the 
 little plateau, and the faint waking chirp of tiie birds as 
 the first streak of dawn a])pcared ; then tiie robins began 
 their song, followed soon by tiie cawing of the crows from 
 a settlement they had across the rjjsahiuitch, as they pre- 
 pared to set out on their daily maraudings among the 
 
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 188 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
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 toads, which in June seek the still places near the shore 
 to spawn, and while engaged in this pleasing avocation fall 
 victims by hui:dreds to their black enemies. 
 
 I hear the low talk of the Indians back of the camp, 
 and their steps as they descend to the river, and soon the 
 sound of the falling axe denotes their preparations for the 
 everlasting 'bile de kittle.' Then Nat the cook audibly dons 
 his heavy boots on the back stoop, and with yawns and 
 grunts prepares for the labours of the day. The sun is now 
 full on the tent, making my two heavy blankets uncomfort- 
 ably warm, and gradually banishing the delicious sense of 
 drowsy consciousness, until I begin to wonder what time 
 it is, and after long hesitation rouse up enough to look at 
 my watch and find it half-past five. Another few moments, 
 passed mostly in plumhig myself in not being fool enough 
 to be fishing at that time, and I crawl out of my tent 
 to see such a morning as I believe can only be found in 
 northern latitudes: a blue sky of unclouded brightness, the 
 air warm and balmy, yet with a spicy undertone of freshness 
 that makes every breath of it a luxury ; the grass sparkluig 
 with the heavy dew, and in some places yet untouched by 
 the sun showing the whiteness of the hoar frost of the 
 night; and the noble river before me, hastening along so 
 fast and fooUshly to lose its identity in the waters of the 
 great Gulf of St. Lawrence. After a bath in the big tin 
 tub I have in the wash-room, I rouse my companions, and 
 Nat soon gives us our breakfast. He is a farmer at Head 
 of Tide, a few miles below Matapedia, though when he 
 addresses himself to agriculture I cannot see. He cooks in 
 a lumber camp and on drives from September to May, and 
 
 i ■\ 
 
— '-^JS" 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 180 
 
 
 is with us through the most of June and July. We have 
 had him for several years, and fortunately, as I have already 
 said, his culinary ambition was fired at his first coming by 
 a servant of Lawrence, who gave him many useful hints 
 and left him as a keepsake a cookery book, whici' Nat is 
 always poring over when not practising its precepts. 
 
 He is now the best cook in New Bnms\vick of my 
 acquaintance, and though he sometimes falls short of per- 
 fection in the loftier flights which he occasionally is induced 
 to try through the influence of the book, on simples he 
 can't be beat. We are fortunate in being able to get 
 from the settlers good butter, cream, eggs, and lamb. In 
 July chickens are to be had, and Lawrence once returned 
 from below with three good-sixed goslings, and a bag con- 
 taining a very lively and noisy inmate, which proved to be a 
 sucking pig. 
 
 Our breakfast finished, we started out to catch the first 
 fish of the season, an exploit which has to me each year the 
 same charm of novelty as if it were my first attempt, and 
 which I always approach with the same modesty and hesita- 
 tion one would feel on proposing marriage when he was not 
 quite sure of his reception. The Captain's water joins and is 
 mixed up with ours, and the two properties comprise all the 
 desirable fishing for nearly four miles. When together we 
 di\ide the whole into three parts, taking regular and recurring 
 turns at each. At the stage of water we had, the Camp Pool 
 was the best, and it fell to my lot to have that and all 
 below it. while the others divided what there was above. 
 
 Jacques thought we had better begin on the Quebec side, 
 there being a bar starting from the top and centre of the 
 
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190 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 I 1 
 
 pool reaching towards that shore. Along this bar, on both 
 sides of it, the sahnon lie in water about four feet deep. 
 We found on going across that tlie lower part of the bar 
 had almost disajjpeared, ])robably througli the action of the 
 ice in tiie si)ring; but tliinking the fisii from old association 
 might still be tliere, we worked carefully down the length of 
 it, seeing notiiing but a good-sized trout, which took my 
 small bright fly so vigorously that for a moment I thought I 
 had a salmon. Hy nine o'clock it became a little overcast, 
 and, having fished out the Quebec side, we i)addled across 
 to the head of the pool. Two or tliree drops were made 
 without result, tliough I expected at every cast to rise a fish 
 out of this beautiful water, over which mine was the first fly 
 of the year. Jacques shared my disappointment and said, 
 ' Mus' be salmon here, but de debbils won't rise.' At last, 
 o})posite tlie sharp shelving rock reaching into the river from 
 the shore, and qiiite near it, one did come uj), a big one 
 which we fancy always inhabits that spot, making a wave as 
 he rose, and a loud slap with liis tail as he turned downward 
 without the fly. It excited me as much as the first per- 
 formance of the kind I ever saw. One rise of tliat sort, 
 where a big fish comes right for the fly like a lion pouncing 
 on his helpless i)rey, making the water foam and scatter in 
 his eagerness, quite pays one for a long journey, even if the 
 salmon is not cauglit, wliich Avas the case in this instance ; 
 and I must say I was conscious and ashamed of a slight 
 momentary feeling of relief when I found the ferocious 
 creatm-e had nt)t fulfilled his dire intent and forced ujwn me 
 the doubtful conflict' 
 
 ' This fcdini,' was exemplified in the case of a gentleman I knew, who, commg 
 
 m \ 
 
[ 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1886. 
 
 191 
 
 This cowardly emotion was transient ; but I could not get 
 another rise out of the fish, and when I had wasted half-an- 
 hour trying we dropped a little down-stream and further out. 
 The very first cast I made towards shore, and not twenty 
 feet from the canoe; as the fly passed over the sunken rock 
 up came the same fish, — I could see him distinctly us he 
 approached the fly, and observed him turn on his side to 
 take it as did the one at Nelson's Rock before-mentioned. 
 To be sure the water was so shallow that the last-named one 
 had to turn on his side to get where the fly was, but here 
 there was pi'^nty of water for him to swim standing on his 
 tail if he chose.' The Nelson's Rock fish broke my casting- 
 line; the Camp Pool one was so lightly hooked that the 
 slight tug freed him, and I sadly continued my progress 
 downward, passing the very cream of the place without a 
 rise. At the last drop well down, where the waters of the 
 Upsalquitch come in and fish don't generally lie until the 
 river is lower, I rose and hooked one, which was soon 
 landed, a small fish of mne pounds, an unusual size for June. 
 
 Shortly after coming in with my one small salmon, rather 
 tired and somewhat disappointed, I saw the canoes of my 
 companions rounding the point above Nelson's on their way 
 home, and in few moments they were dancing along the 
 
 to a salmon river for the first time, fished in fear and trembling for four days 
 without a rise. At the end of that time he got one, a large fish, which made 
 such a noise and commotion, as he missed the fly, that the angler immediately 
 stopped fishing and returned to camp, thanking his stars he had not caught him. 
 
 » It is my opinion, from my own observations and those of anglers who have 
 fished where salmon could better be seen when they take the fly, that they 
 generally, if not always, turn on their sides to do so. The fly, being under 
 water, is taken before the break is seen, and in the short interval the fish regains 
 his usual position. 
 
 \ 
 
 a 
 
 I 
 
, 1 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 it 1 
 
 19S 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 rapid at tl>e liead of tlie Camp Pool. Their exertions liad 
 been more unsuccessful than mine ; neither had risen a fish, 
 though they had faithfully tried all the best places. Law- 
 rence had seen a man at Mowat's just from Campbellton, 
 who reported the catch of salmon in the nets the night 
 before as something wonderful, one stand getting nearly two 
 hundred large tish. As the night before was Sunday night, 
 when all the nets are supposed to be lifted, we hoped the 
 man was lying, but found afterwards that none or very few 
 of th.e fishermen had obeyed the law that night or the one 
 before. 
 
 The fact is that most of the guarding that is done in the 
 estuary of the Ristigouche, as well as up the river, is almost 
 in spite of the government, which, since the establishment of 
 riparian rights on the salmon streams has — after building the 
 breeding-house and aimually putting down in the river the fry 
 therefrom — seemed to interpose no restrictions on catching all 
 the salmon by any means which the ingenuity of the settlers 
 may suggest 
 
 Towards night we all went out again, but the only fish 
 that showed at all was one to me in the Camp Pool, -xni we 
 sat down to our dinner with our high anticipations of the 
 morning rather blasted. 
 
 We had our little fish split down the back and broiled 
 over the coals, and a salmon should never be broiled in any 
 other form, the common method of cutting steaks off him 
 and cooking against the grain causing the loss of the juices 
 of the fish, which by the former method are preserved. 
 
 This is about the best way of serving a salmon, unless 
 you can previously smoke him for twenty-four hours, first 
 
 I 
 
 > 
 
THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 106 
 
 anointinj? him— after having been split and thrice skewered 
 with twigs to keep him spread out — with a mixture of salt 
 and brown sugar. Our small smoke-house of bark had been 
 erected before we came, and an ingenious little fire])lace and 
 draft constructed under it, whence the smoke from the green 
 birch and maple chips coidd be carried in a steady stream to 
 the interior ; but sevend days were to pass before we could 
 enjoy its products. 
 
 After dinner, and an hour of delicious preparation by our 
 big fireplace, Lawrence and I returned to our tents, and 
 passed a night that amply repaid us for the unaccustomed 
 fatigues of our first day. As I was thinking of getting up I 
 heard a salmon jump at the point of the rock just below my 
 tent, probably the one I had pricked the day before. Such 
 a noise these big fellows make in jumping when everything is 
 still— greater than their size would seem to warrant. A 
 stone of the weight of a salmon thrown in from a high bank 
 does not sound the same or so loudly. I have seen it tried 
 by a concealed angler, for the purpose of trying to make a 
 friend fishing a little below think he had passed over a 
 salmon. 
 
 The Indians reported they had seen two fish show them- 
 selves at the lower part of the pool ; but that did not prevent 
 our taking a leisurely and comfortable breakfast at seven, and 
 lounging about for half-an-hour after it before addressing our- 
 selves to the labours of the day. 
 
 Those calm and peaceful morning half-hours at Camp 
 Harmony,— often lengthened out to twice that,— how full of 
 enjoyment they were! Passed on the east piazza, with the 
 turbulent Upsalquitch tumbling along at our feet, and beyond 
 
 2b 
 
 ^1 
 
 I 
 
 i 
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 1/' 
 
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 194 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 it S(|uuw's Cup, lifting its towering peak in tlie bright .sun* 
 sliine liigh ulM)ve the surrounding hills ; the duy before us with 
 ull its uncertainties und great ])ossibilities, but surely enough 
 of either to promise ample theme for our evening symposium, 
 if not for enduring remembrance. 
 
 This Tuesday we all fished with unrewarded vigour, except 
 the Captain, who came in with a fine fish of twenty-two 
 pounds, and his tide of him was this. lie had reached the 
 lower cast of the Judge's Pool late in the afleriioon, and 
 expected fully to go home empty-handed, when a trout eight 
 inches long took his fly. Reeling it in rather lazily, what was 
 his astonishment to see a salmon make a dash at it right on 
 top of the water. The Captain was so stiirtled that he pulled 
 the trout away, when the salmon swam on the surface for 
 two or three yards, evidently looking for it. To his great 
 subsequent regret the Captain, instead of trying again with 
 the trout, ])ut on a large ' Silver Doctor,' and after resting the 
 fish a few moments, cast over him, hooked and killed him. 
 He and the Indians had no doubt from the eagerness of the 
 salmon that he would have taken the trout had it been 
 offered him again. The Captain's son, whose observations are 
 trustworthy, saw the next year, in August, an llpsuhiuitch 
 salmon he was watching in a shallow pool seize a small trout 
 which ventured near him, and go out of sight with it in his 
 mouth. 
 
 It was not until Friday that a fish was taken in our upper 
 water. On that day Lawrence and the Captain got two each 
 above Nelson's Island, in the stretch between that and 
 Mowat's Rock, while the Camp Pool yielded me one. They 
 were all good fish, from twenty-two to twenty-five pounds. 
 
 H 
 
 '^^mtmautt^ . 
 
w 
 
 
 THE SKASON OF 1H85. 
 
 195 
 
 We felt tliiit tliis, our first decently successful day, wus nn 
 omen of f^ood luck, und sallied ft)rth on Saturday niorninf? 
 with high hopes. It wus a lovely day, cool und delightful, 
 but with a south wind and ha/.y atmosphere that indicated 
 more heat than we hud been having. IMy route was up the 
 river, and insteud of going in the cunoe I crossed and wulked 
 the three miles on the Quel)ee side through the woods. The 
 road, or rather path, followed the windings of the river— some- 
 times high above it, sometimes almost at its brink— crossed at 
 intervals by brooks of various smallness, whose sparkling 
 waters tempted the passer-by t(» drink even when not thirsty. 
 There were a good many chi.imunks running along the sides 
 of the path, scarcely moving u yard out of the way at my 
 approach. A curious fact about these little creatures is that 
 every year for a few days early in July a good many are seen 
 swimming the river. Most of them I think, are drowned, 
 as we often see their coq)ses floating down. I have ])icked 
 up several from the water nearly dead, and after staying in 
 the canoe long enough to get thoroughly revived, they always 
 plunge in again and probably perish. 
 
 As my path went through a growth of hardwood, red 
 squirrels occasionally broke the silence by violent chattcrings 
 at the rare intrusion on their possessions, and I saw several 
 kinds of the rare and beautiful northern warblers h()p])ing 
 nimbly among the branches uttering their feeble chirps. At 
 one of the little brooks that came suddenly into view as 1 
 turned a bend in the path a veteran woodchuck, large and 
 grey, was drinking; he did not see me, and when he was 
 through he sat on his haunches, wiped his face carefully with 
 his paws, and started slowly the same way I was going. As 
 
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 r', 
 
 I i 
 
 li. 
 
196 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 I followed along and became visible to liiin, he only slightly 
 hastened his pace and went a few rods ahead for some dis- 
 tjince, when suddenly leaving the path he stxirted off at a 
 brisk run through the woods, probably to conceal the where- 
 abouts of his hole, which I found on examination about ten 
 yards to the right, a little beaten track leading up to it. 
 
 At Mowat's Rock the canoe was waiting, and I em- 
 barked for the pool imlf-a-mile above. There the worst 
 experience of the week was repeated. I fished down it with 
 the greatest care, changing my flies often, knowing all the 
 time the uselessness of doing so, but still hoping that by 
 chance the right selection might be made. 
 
 I don't know how I should get through all those fruitless 
 hours of labour but for the conversation of Jacques. I asked 
 him at\er several changes what I should put on next. ' Well, 
 give em small " Ranger " ; berry fine fly dat.' ' Hadn't I better 
 put on this large " Black Fairy " ? ' ' Oh yes ; put on " Rlack 
 Fairy." Well, you know old Knapp, he fish two days in same 
 place wid one fly. Joe Capelin, he wid him, and he keep 
 mouth shut berry close till tird day. Den he say to ole 
 Knapp, "Tink you better change your fly." Ole Knapp he 
 
 look at Joe berry sharp like an' say, "D you, dat my 
 
 business!" so Joe he nebber tell him atter dat what to do 
 dough he fish wrong all time an' nebber git one rise what- 
 eber; but if say word he become cross an' make berry short 
 answer.' 
 
 At the next symptom of discouragement on my part 
 Jaccjues said of Lawrence, whose luck had been worse than 
 mine, ' If INIr. Lawrence don't git salmon to-day I nuis' tell 
 him how to git 'im. Well, salmon berry dry, an' Mr. Law- 
 
THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 197 
 
 rence miis' jes take one bottle brandy in canoe an' git Alexis 
 drunk — ^jes 'bout balf-drunk ; den be talk to salmon an' 
 salmon berry bapt to rise.' 
 
 Witb beguilements like tbese, artfully applied at every 
 symptom of exbaustion, Jaccpies kept me to tiie point of 
 fisbing tbrougb tbe pool, wben I tliankfully returned to camp 
 feeling I bad creditably performed a difficult duty. 
 
 At four o'clock we went to tbe Judge's Pool for an 
 evening fishing, and after a couple of drops I rose quite near 
 tbe sbore a salmon, wbicb came as tbough be meant busi- 
 ness, but missed tbe book. Giving him two or tbree minutes 
 to tbink better of it, I began again ; but before my fly 
 readied the spot where he was, a great mound appeared in 
 tbe river moving rapidly toward the helpless insect. Just be- 
 fore reaching it the water opened witb a violent splash, and a 
 large fish emerged, his impetus carrying him clear out of the 
 stream, then fell back again witb a noise and splash as if a 
 child had been thrown overboard. That instant fully repaid 
 me for all the tiiousands of barren casts I bad made in tlie 
 week. As tbe fish sought the bottom the top of tbe rod 
 bent, the reel sung as a few yards of the line rolled off, 
 and then stopped until my friend realised he was in trouble 
 and started to get out of it. Down the pool lie went, and 
 it was near the foot of tbe island before I could land. We 
 knew without his swimming deep and steadily that he was a 
 big one from the view we had when be took, and I couldn't 
 get any control of bim till we were down near Nelson's 
 gate. Tlien he was induced to come near sbore, and we 
 saw bim do what I daresay salmon often try successfully 
 as a means of getting rid of tiie hook, that was to stand 
 
 V 
 
 
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 I 
 
 
 L 
 
198 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 straight on his head and grub among the stones at the 
 bottom. This he kept at for some minutes at intervals, and 
 persisted in it after I liad drawn him into water so shallow 
 that several inches of his tail stuck out while he was rubbing 
 away. At last Jacques gaffed him— a male fish of thirty- 
 four pounds, with the hook on his lower jaw already quite 
 distinct. 
 
 We then returned to the pool in quest of the smaller fish 
 which had first risen. He came up the instant the fly, a 
 small 'Jock Scott,' passed over him, but faintly. I then tried 
 him with a large gaudy ' Britannia '—to my mind the hand- 
 somest fly tied. To this he rose twice, at iive minutes' 
 intervals, but in a very Platonic way. Leaving him I then 
 passed a (juarter of an hour in going over the rest of the 
 pool, but without success. Returning, I went ashore, Avhich 
 enabled me to present the fly to him in a different way, and 
 tried again with the ' Britannia '—two faint rises ; a ' Silver 
 Doctor' brougiit liim up again in the same way; then the 
 ' Jock Scott ' he had first risen to was shown him ineffectu- 
 ally. As a last resort I put on a very small 'Durham 
 Ranger.' No sooner did this go over him than he came with 
 a vengeance, hooked himself securely, and gave me a good 
 ten minutes' sport before he was gaff'ed— a plump, well- 
 shaped sisteen-pounder. 
 
 Though writing this a few hours after the occurrence, I find 
 I have omitted one rise this fish made, as tliere were nine 
 in all. It was nothing but perseverance and hard work that 
 got him for me, and his capture occupied neariy two hours. 
 However, one salmon so taken yields a sweeter satisfaction 
 than a half-dozen you feel sure any one might have caught. 
 
 ^s^^asMii 
 
 I 
 
KKACHING liuMK 
 
 liRlliilg ly 11. SANUHAM. 
 
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 i?5E*rr*"*' 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 199 
 
 One of my companions came down from above just as I 
 was starting for camp in the latter part of the twilight, and 
 he liad two fish, both of good size. On reaching home we 
 found our third angler had also taken two in the Camp Pool, 
 which made our catch for the day six. Four of these Ave 
 sent to Matapedia that night to be expressed thence to 
 people, less fortunate than we, who were obliged to remain at 
 home. 
 
 Sunday at noon, two friends reached us on their way to 
 our water at Mowat's, which we had let them have for the 
 rest of the season. Their camp had already been built on tiie 
 high bank which rose from tlie river on the New Brunswick 
 side, close by an icy cascade tumbling down it. There Avere 
 three bark shanties and two large tents, a tall flag-pole, and 
 such various other little comforts as the wit and axe of the 
 backwoodsman could compass. Next morning I went up to 
 call, and found my hosts well and happy, though one had 
 sprained his wrist and his trunk had been dropped overboard 
 in mid-river, where it had lain for some time before a rescue 
 was effected. That Monday our catch was again six salmon, 
 but we saw more in the river than we had any day before, 
 as the result of the tideway nets having been Ufted over 
 Sunday. 
 
 On Tuesday the logs— of which a few had been sailing down 
 for several days— began to come so thickly that we knew the 
 great drive could not be very far above, and learned from a 
 native who passed by that it was near Chain of Rocks. The 
 sahnon, as I have before said, soon get used to the logs, and 
 seem to rise just as well as when the water is free from 
 them. I have often hooked, and seen others hook, salmon 
 
 I 
 
200 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 \ 
 
 I" 
 
 within a yard or two of a big log floating down; but tl.e 
 trouble is in saving the fish when the river is so encumbered 
 with these tree-trunks, some of them fifty feet long, and 
 their whole length directly across the stream. It adds much 
 to the excitement of the sport to pursue it under such diffi- 
 culties ; and in spite of these heavy fresli-run fish generally 
 doing just as they please for a time, the numbers that are 
 landed when logs are running thick-and one would suppose 
 the feat impossible-is suqirising. There are lots of hair- 
 breadth escapes to one actual one; but with good tackle, a 
 safe passage through the first wild rush of the fish, and 
 Indians who will, after you get ashore, keep above in the 
 canoe and pusii what logs they can away from your line, 
 you may be reasonably certain of success. 
 
 Half-way up our Camp Pool on the New Brunswick side, 
 and just in a line with my little tent on the edge of the 
 bluff, is a rock projecting into the water, or rather out of it, as 
 it begins in the middle of the river, rising gradually from the 
 bottom. The water flows around and over it with a delicious 
 ripple near the shore, and as it deepens the whereabouts of 
 the shari) and uneven top of the ledge is indicated by a 
 gradually diminishing line of eddies, at times almost invisible, 
 the next moment periiaps boiling and foaming in miniature 
 whiripools. The rock where the ripple ends has for years 
 been the abode of a big salmon. We have imagined that 
 the same fish, bearing a charmed life, has season after season 
 avoided the perils of the sea and river, and returned safely 
 and with added pounds to his old home. He doesn't come 
 with the throng of his companions which eariiest seek the 
 river, but about the 18th or 20th of June reaches his haunt. 
 
■K! 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 201 
 
 t 
 
 and celebrates liis arrival by jumps and gambols such as few 
 of his fellows indulge in. We always anxiously await his 
 coming, and speculate on the increase of size a year has 
 brought him, for he delights to show us his fair propor- 
 tions morning and evening as we watch him from the high 
 bank, and often during the night have I been roused from 
 sleep by the splash of his descent from a leap of unusual 
 loftiness, feeling a pleasant sense of companionship in his 
 nearness to me. 
 
 He has always proved most obliging in showing himself 
 to us on days when no other fish could be seen, and not to 
 us only but to our visitors ; for them we always lead to the 
 bluff as if to exhibit the view, and keeping them there on 
 this pretext for a few moments, they perchance see oiu* 
 friend jump clear out of water, or roll to the surface brand- 
 ishing his huge tail in their faces, and, ignorant of the fact 
 that such performances are habitual with our exhibition 
 salmon, call our attention to the monster, and enjoy our 
 feigned surprise as we do their gratification. None the less 
 has this salmon been willing to amuse us by rising in a 
 furious and savage manner on his first reaching the pool at 
 any fly we may cast at him ; for, despite our sentimental 
 attachment, his capture has been the object of our most 
 strenuous efforts. These rises grow fainter and less frequent 
 as his stay in the pool lengthens, and so well-judged are 
 they that until now, save on one occasion, he has never been 
 hooked. This was on the day of his arrival two years since, 
 and mine was the honour and glory of playing him for ten 
 miiuites before he broke loose. He was not seen until a 
 week afterwards, but then resumed his sports in a somewhat 
 
 2 c 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
202 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 ' I 
 
 l'^ 
 
 subdued spirit, and a few days later we could get a rise or 
 two out of liiui as usual any morning or evening. 
 
 This year (1885) he seemed especially lively. I rose him 
 thrice the day he came, and he could be brought up to the 
 surface by presenting him with almost any fly. When the 
 log-running was at its height Lawrence had the (juestionable 
 honour of hooking him. He had fished down the Quebec 
 side of the pool without a rise, and coming across to try the 
 rock, when his fly sailed over the point of it the fish came 
 up and took it just as any other salmon would, Lawrence 
 was so surprised at finding he had him that he lost his usual 
 presence of mind, and let the fish carry him down past the 
 mouth of the Upsalquitch, where the main river logs were 
 largely augmented by those coming down that stream. 
 Through these the salmon tore with resistless strength, missing 
 them for a time, but finally the line was caught in one and 
 broken after a severe struggle, at several periods of which 
 Lawrence thought he was going to land the fish in spite of 
 the superstitious feeling we all, especially the Indians, had 
 that the fly was never tied which could bring him ashore. 
 We much fear that he has not survived his wounds, or, if he 
 has, has changed his quarters in disgust, as he was not seen 
 in his accustomed haunts after that while we remained on 
 the river. In 188G his hold was occupied by a succession of 
 much smaller salmon, devoid of his gamesomeness and 
 sagacity, and readily falling victims to our wiles. 
 
 Two days after this I had an adventure worth narrating 
 with a salmon in this same pool. We were fishing quietly 
 along at a time when tiie logs were not running especially 
 thick, no fish on the rise, a cold damp wind blowing, and 
 
 .«kS= 
 
 trTm' ^x t- wn wi - aj l*' 
 
 ■MM 
 
I 
 
 TIIK SEASON OF 1HH5. 
 
 SOS 
 
 iny cliief desire to complete iny tiisk uiid f^et back to the 
 comforts of tlie fireplace. Suddenly I heard a splash to my 
 left, and Jaccjues exclaimed, ' Hy {?olly ! you see dat salmon 
 jump jes' dere ? he dam big, an' so white he look jes' like 
 ske - day - gum - wit, dat mean ghost, so I call him ghost' 
 Neither I nor John Capelin, a new and youthful assistant of 
 .laccpies, had seen the fish, but felt returning animation at 
 the proof of a salmon being in the pool at all. We went 
 over above and tried him in vain with several flies, then 
 leaving him went to the camp for an hour of rest and 
 refreshment. I would have devoted more time to these 
 pleasing pursuits, but Jaecpies a])peared at the door and 
 insisted on my going out, saying, * Now we git de ghost, git 
 him dis time sartin, because 1 talk to him jes' now down at 
 landin', an' say, "suardo ske-day-gum-wit, suardo," dat mean 
 come up ghost, an' I sure as sure I put gaff in his head dis day.' 
 
 Yielding to this solicitation I embarked, and .Jacipies, as 
 usual, took the canoe a good distance above where the 
 ' ghost ' was. To my surprise, a few moments' casting brought 
 me a rise, and I succeeded in landing a beautiful salmon of 
 twenty-four and a half pounds. ' Dat not ske-day-gum-wit,' 
 said Jacques ; ' but now we git him dis time sartin, an' show 
 him how he hke look of shore. He jes behine de rock under 
 dat ripple ; now you cast way down one side like, an' don't 
 let fly go over him 'tall, den mebbe he see dat, an' say, " I 
 have to swim berry hard to git dat fly or I lose him what- 
 eber," so he nebber look for de hook, he in such lun-ry.' 
 These instructions, which I followed, justified Jaccpies" 
 acumen ; for as soon as the ' Brown Fairy ' was two yards from 
 the ripple, the salmon seized it with a vehemence that made 
 
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 lISIIIN(i IN CANADIAN VVATIIHS. 
 
 :r 
 
 i 
 
 * I 
 
 1 I 
 
 
 me pity the poor fly and the light tackle back of it. lie 
 went to tlie bottoiri and stirred not till the anchor was up, 
 wiien, realising that the morsel in his moutli was a jieppery 
 one, he sUirted for the deeper water of the New Hrimswit'k 
 shore, not in u hasty way, but witii a deliberation befltting 
 his age and size. We followed along after, keeping as near 
 as possible, and with as hard a j)ull as was ])rudent — in fact 
 a little harder, by reason of the logs floating down danger- 
 ously fre<|uent, and a collision of the line with one of them 
 was almost sure to end in discomflture. Reaching the deep 
 water the fish sulked very considerately while half-a-dozen 
 logs passed close by ; but they had not gone far before he 
 started down-stream, and, notwithstanding my efforts in hold- 
 ing him back, and those of the Indians in paddling towards 
 him, went under the last of the group of logs, where the line 
 became caught in a piece of bark, but could still rim out, 
 though we were unable to pull it clear. The salmon kindly 
 stopped in mid-stream, and we str.rted down in pursuit of the 
 logs to release the line, which John Capelin did very cleverly 
 just in time to save the few last yards on the reel. The 
 salmon was now far above us, but between his gradually 
 yielding and our pulling towards him, we soon got close 
 enough for me to begin leading him to shore, and after 
 several more short runs and sulking fits, with great luck in 
 avoiding descending logs, I found myself getting him under 
 some control, though he was still stron*^, and had not once 
 shown himself since being hooked. Below the rapid, the 
 foot of which Ave were now apj)roi> thing, the water was shal- 
 low for some distance from the beach, and a great many logs 
 had grounded there, making it out of the question to get to 
 
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 II 
 
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Till'- SKASON OF 1H85. 
 
 tos 
 
 the shore. So I told Jacciues he mif,'ht gafl' the fish from 
 the canoe, and I stepped over the centre l)ar to the stern, 
 near John Capehn, that he might liave more room. The 
 sahnon, wliich was still ahove us, came slowly into view, tail 
 first, brouglit down by the strong pull and heavy current, and 
 as we saw the expanse of his light brown hack, and the 
 sweep of his broad tail, Jacques exclaimed loudly at his size. 
 lie did not appear very tired, but would drop down a little 
 way, and then with one motion of his powerfid tiul nearly 
 regain the ground he had lost. At last, by gentle coaxing, 
 he came within reach of Jacques, crouched low in the bow, 
 with his gaff extended in readiness. Letting it gently drop 
 into the water beyond the fish, he pidled the shari) iron into 
 him, and hauled him over the side of the canoe instead of 
 running ashore between the logs as I directed. The great 
 weight straitened the gaff, which came out as soon as the 
 salmon was in the canoe. Jaccjues tried to sit on him or 
 seize him, and I rushed forward to assist, but after a brief 
 engagement the fish jumped out of the canoe on the shore 
 side with the fly still fast in his mouth, and started uj) 
 stream apparently as strong as ever. Seeing he was fast I 
 still expected to save him, when, to my horror, John Capelin, 
 with the reckless impetuosity of youth, bounded into the 
 water with his paddle uplifted in pursuit. The first blow he 
 aimed broke the top of my rod in two places, but in the instant 
 which intervened between it and the second, I realised, even 
 while expressing my disapprobation, that there were hopes the 
 fish might still be mine. These hojjcs v.-ere soon to be 
 blasted, as John, deaf to entreaty, had again brought down 
 the paddle, and this time on the line (the salmon was fifteen 
 
vfi^sssim'mmmsmtaBsaiasKSBKSBS 
 
 T 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 yards away), which of course broke, and left me to gather in 
 the ruins and Iiave it out with the aboriirines. 
 
 This Hsh was, I tiiink, a bigger one than I ever killed, 
 and would go above tiiat forty-jjound mark which I have, so 
 far, never quite reached. The disapi)ointment at Iiis useless 
 loss was very great, but its expression was scarcely so praise- 
 worthy as that of a fellow-sufferer whose adventure is narrated 
 in the Xcrc Sportinff Magazine of .July 1831, as follows :— 
 
 ' Pisc-ator stnii'k a heavy trout of near seven pounds weight, and after 
 lialf-an-hour of the greatest anxiety liad liim exhausted and motionless 
 on the toj) of the water. Nothinjr remained but for the man who 
 accompanied him to put tlie net under tlie fish and take him out, hut 
 instead of puttinjr tlio net over the tail of the fish first, the man 
 attempted to f,a't the fish's head into it, and these liooks which had not 
 struck the fish cau^dit the net, and of course lield fast. This rouseil 
 the dyinfi trout, which, makinjr a sudden stru^r<jle, hroke away. Pis- 
 cator and the man h)oked at each other in silent astonishment ; at 
 length Piscator, (piietly puttin<r his hanil in his pocket, took out a new 
 l)ra.ss reel \:a\ !ine, and threw it at the man with all his force, luckily 
 missing him. 'li;c reel, worth some three guineas, went into the river. 
 Piscator said nothing ; but gently disengaging the butt of his rod, 
 struck at the in; i> with all his might, who only saved himself by 
 miming for liis life.' 
 
 As the great drive of logs gradually got near us, we found 
 them so thick for a few days tiiat we did not fish at all. A 
 canoe could be navigated along the sides of the river, but the 
 current was so clogged that iialf the time it was impossible to 
 get a Hy on the water at all. The tail of the drive beinsr 
 within a few miles, we expected relief soon, and got great 
 stories about the fishing in the clear water above the logs. 
 We devoted one of these iicn - angling days to a trip to 
 Camp Albany, so namei' after the home of its two occupants. 
 The canoe ride of nearly ten miles up there took us through 
 
 
.\\(i!.lN(i A I roAli IIROOK 
 
 Ktcllini? 1". li. ^1. I'F.KRIICK. 
 
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 ^•« r^,u»wmii^gas;s?s9SSSmm 
 
i^^ 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 207 
 
 some of the most beautiful scenery of tlie river, and at 
 Brandy IJrook, where we stopped for refreshment, we saw a 
 small boy with twenty-five or thirty trout, averaging a pound 
 each, which he had taken with a bait of salt pork attached 
 to a cod-hook, which was connected by a stout twine to a 
 kind of vaulting pole, eiglit or nine feet long. Our improved 
 appliances at the same place yielded us nothing, while the 
 boy would every few moments haul out a fresli victim. At 
 Chain of Rocks we saw several salmon, and soon after 
 passing through that interesting spot reached the foaming 
 billows of Hero's Rapid, in the hearing and sight of which 
 Mr. JNIacAndrew has twice built his comfortable liouse, only 
 to have it carried away by the breaking up of the ice in the 
 spring. Half-a-mile from this was our destination ; and as 
 we were mounting the ascent to the neat and well-ordered 
 camp, so different from the disorder of our own, we saw one 
 of our hosts rounding the point from the pool above f'^st in 
 a salmon, which acted like a big one. We walked down to 
 the beach hoping to see him land the fish there; but after 
 quite a time of sulking and running across the river, he 
 started down-stream at such a rate that Mr. Olcott had to take 
 iiis canoe and follow. The fish vent down through Hero's 
 Rapid— not so called after the classic female, but for a horse 
 of that name, which years ago performed a great feat of 
 towing a scow through it— and a full mile from the Camp 
 was gaffed. He was the fourth they had taken that morning, 
 all of from twenty -two to twenty -four pounds After 
 luncheon, served on a white table-cloth, witli a bouquet of 
 flowers in the middle, and everything clean and orderly to 
 distraction, we passed a delightful hour, may be two, on the 
 
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 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 cool piazza, alongside a table well garnished with cooling 
 drinks and choice cigars. Two handsome iron pots contained 
 smudges, which were moved about to different stations by an 
 attentive savage as the flies or wind came from a new 
 quarter ; for, as Jacques would say, ' dose muskittys darn 
 cross an' tick.' We had never been able to train any Indians 
 to such effective efforts, and nowhere else have I ever seen 
 any who would attend to keeping a smudge going without a 
 fresh command for every item of ser^^ce to save their kind 
 employer from being devoured. I fancy the club must be 
 the means used in the seclusion of Camp Albany to accom- 
 plish the result we saw, as I can think of no emotion but 
 that of extreme and continuous terror that woidd make and 
 keep half-a-dozen Mic-Macs as attentive and decorous as is the 
 trained menial cf Itricish descent. Camp Albany is beyond 
 (juestion the neatest and most inoffensive one on the river, 
 and its owners equally skilful as anglers and as dispensers of 
 an elegant and plenteous hospitality to all passers-by. Their 
 theory is that everybody going up or down the river is 
 hungry, thirsty, or in need of a night's lodging, which is just 
 as it should be on the Ristigouche. Often friends whom we 
 have expected at our place by noon from up the river have 
 appeared at five or six, and seemed to consider the excuse of 
 having been stopped at Camp Albany a perfectly sufficient 
 one, and we never had any good of them that evening. 
 
 On our way down we stopped at the IJrandy Brook pools 
 for a cast, but got nothing, they having probably been drifted 
 the night before by the guardian. We found the tail of the 
 drive just above Mowat's, and the drivers told us they would 
 get 7 ,t the UpsaUiuitch by another day. The next night 
 
I 
 
 THE SEASON OF 1885. 
 
 209 
 
 they were down to tlie bar above Camp Hamiony. About 
 six in the evening it began raining, and kept at it hard and 
 steadily. In the morning we found tlie river had risen a foot, 
 and no logs were in sight; the wat'-r, too, was muddier than 
 I had ever seen it. The rain poured down in sheets all that 
 day and night, and the next morning four feet more of a rise 
 had taken place in the main river, which was rushing down 
 in an impetuous torrent, dark-yellow in colour, bearing with 
 it uprooted trees, roots, branches, and bark washed from the 
 shore. News reached us that a canoe had been swamped, and 
 a man drowned at Red Pine Mountain, and it looked a dan- 
 gerous undertaking to cross the river even in a canoe. One 
 great benefit we learned was effected, and that was the 
 carrying away of all the tideway-nets, which could not be 
 put down again that year, and consequently gave the fish 
 their first free chance to ent ,r the river. 
 
 Strange to say, the heavy storm had not extended up 
 the Upsalquitch, and in the main river, for a fidl mile below 
 its junction, there was a well-defined and narrowing channel of 
 the clear water contributed to the flood by the smaller stream. 
 It rained enough for several days to prevent any fall of the 
 five-feet rise in the river ; but the New IJrunswick side of the 
 Ristigouche, where the clear water of the Upsahjuitch flowed, 
 was abundant with salmon, as indeed were all the spots in the 
 river where clear brooks joined it. These and the smaller 
 rivers the fish ascended wherever they could. The Upsal- 
 quitch, near our camp, was like a lake, the rise in the 
 main river more than overcoming the natiu'al tall of its 
 smaller sister for some distance, and in this still pool, during 
 its existence, there were a great many salmon, though we 
 
 2 u 
 
210 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 nu 
 
 I ' 
 
 r y 
 
 did not find this out for several days. The three of us, 
 with a visitor, fished along in a line close to the New 
 Brunswick shore and had plenty of sport. A salmon rose 
 to me one of these days in the Ristigouche water, close to 
 the line of the clear stream to be sure, but where it 
 actually looked like soup, and I would not suppose the 
 most acute vision could see a fly six inches off". 
 
 On July 2d I was obliged to leave; and at the beginning 
 of my sad journey, as I approached Lawrence, who was 
 fishing just below the camp, he wanted me to come in his 
 canoe and take his rod for a farewell cast. This I willingly 
 did, and at the second try rose and killed a nice bright fish 
 of nineteen pounds. The sport after I left was remarkable 
 all over the river as the waters fell. My friends remained 
 until the 15th, and the total catch from Camp Harmony 
 and Captain Sweny's water was two hundred and five fish. 
 This could have been very largely increased had they tried 
 to fish for a score the last fortnight. The number of 
 salmon that got safely uj) the river must have been greater 
 than for years past, and the effect will last for some time. 
 
 A good many of the large Ristigouche fish went up the 
 Upsalquitch that year, and probably spawned there. They 
 were seen in the headwaters in the autumn by Alexander 
 Robertson, the guardian, and may be the progenitors of a 
 larger race of salmon than those now frequenting that river. 
 I found that the number of fish taken in the Club waters 
 in 1885 was eight hiuulred and seventeen ; but very few 
 members were in the river after the high water in July, or 
 the score would have been largely increased. 
 
Yciii ilint (Isli tor Ufuc and Uochos, 
 ('ai))t's or IVni'lies, Honiis NdcIios. 
 
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 lu)kl as Iiave visited the Ristigouche are enchanted witli it; 
 and, as the children have passed, since they could walk, 
 several weeks of each year in camping out, they are much 
 impressed with the luxuries of the Canadian habitation. 
 
 The seasons in which Jjawrence and I extend this hos- 
 pitality our guests come along after we \> c been at the 
 Camp for a fortnigh'. or so, under the ubeoit of my eldest 
 
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 T H K A I) V EN T U R ES 
 
 OF 188G 
 
 |EIXG a mail of family, it is my 
 pleasure as well as my duty ti» 
 sometimes share with those who do 
 so much for me the pleasures of 
 my summer outing. If my partner 
 i'l the fishing, objects to the pre- 
 sence of my wife and a portion of my 
 children at Camp Harmony once in 
 a nhile, he has so successfully concealed his true sentiments 
 us to deserve no sympathy. At any rate, such of the house- 
 hold as have visited the Ristigouche are enchanted with it; 
 and, as the children have passed, since they could walk, 
 several weeks of each year in camping out, they are much 
 imiJiessed with the luxuries of the Canadian habitation. 
 
 The seasoiii! in which I^awrence and I extend this hos- 
 pitality our guests come along after we have been at the 
 Camp for a fortnight or so, under the escort of my eldest 
 
211 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 ift' 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 son, and give to our life interests and ideas which I am 
 sure are the more appreciated as we are not subjected to 
 them during our entire stay. 
 
 Two ladies, who for two years have accompanied their 
 husbands to the river, are expert anglers — one of them par- 
 ticularly so — throw a beautiful line, will cast for hours in 
 all weather, and one has, I tlimk, killed more salmon in the 
 Ristigouche than ahuost any man who goes there. I am sorry 
 that the two ladies of my household have progressed no further 
 in the art of anglitig than to become poor trout-fishers, and to 
 have lost one salmon. This, however, is not an unmixed evil. 
 They don't want to fish the piece of water that seems to them the 
 best, and which we are saving for the right moment. They rejoice 
 in our succcSo without envying it, and perhaps admire the more 
 our piscatorial exploits from their own incapacity to rival them. 
 At least their an;;.fling inefficiency disarms criticism of ours. 
 
 The Camp seems somehow to run smoother when ladies are 
 about. The occasional disputes and slight jars which the best 
 of friends sometimes have are entirely omitted, the dishes are 
 wasiied cleaner, the meals are more orderly, various delicacies 
 unknown at other times appear on the table, and though dis- 
 approved of ostensibly, are none the less enjoyed. 
 
 It is very much like putting trousers and a tail-coat on an 
 infant of two to set a lad of thirteen salmon-fishing, and I don't 
 say that it is an indulgence I would think it advisable to be at 
 all free nith where the chance for it exists. I risked it with my 
 elder son when he was thirteen, and his appreciation amply 
 repaid my partiality. The first day I gave him one man and 
 a canoe,— he had already some idea of polfng,— and set ium 
 to work in a poor bit of water inside of Nelson's Island 
 
 m* 
 
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 ■t J ■.. 
 
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 THE ADVENTURES OF 1886. 
 
 S15 
 
 He was gone four hours, and returred with a suhnon of 
 twenty-seven pounds, and a harrowing descrii)tion of his 
 encounter with anotlier much larger one, wliich lad beaten 
 him after an hour's struggle. Next day I sent him up the 
 Upsakjuitch half-a-niile to a little pool we have there, wliich 
 we iiardly consider worth trying. I went down the main 
 river a little way, and as I was coming home saw a canoe 
 descending the Upsalquitch with only one man in it, and he 
 seemed to be paddling in a wild and incoherent way. As it 
 approached we saw it was Henry's canoe, and when near enough 
 a bent rod came to view, held, as we soon found, by the boy, 
 who was lying flat on his back in the bottom of the canoe, and 
 playing a particularly strong and lively fish, which had, through 
 accident or design, gone up to the little pool from the main 
 river where he belonged, and after being hooked, started straight 
 back to his proper stream. When we weigheil hii\i he pulled 
 down the scale to twenty-eight pounds, and I made tlie boy 
 go back to his trout-rod for a few days. Since then I have 
 limited his occasions for salmon-fishing, particularly when it 
 has been unusually good, and thus have perhaps neutralised 
 the evils he sustained from over-indulgence five years ago. 
 
 Eighteen hundred and eighty-six was the last year we had 
 ladies at the Camp, and to prepare for them Lawrence went up 
 ten days ahead of me early in Tune, with a friend for company. 
 I got along a day sooner than I expected, aiul hired a native to 
 drive me up to the Camp after the arrival of the train at JNiala- 
 ])edia. It was dark when I reached there ; and I managed to 
 attract the attention of one of the Indians who was down at 
 the shore, and was taken over without being seen, thus adding 
 the pleasures of a surprise to tliat of my coming. 
 
216 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 'i 
 
 I foiuitl them just finisliing dinner with two guests they had 
 secured for the night. My little tent had been set up and the 
 boughs cut for it. These the Indians made my bed from, and 
 next morning I was furnished a rod and line, and given tiie 
 Camp pool. The fishing had been very good, with the peculiarity 
 on the part of the salmon, which continued all the season and 
 all over the river, of most of them taking the fly . ii,nout show 
 ing at the top of tiie water. My experience was that many r^ ":• 
 than usual were lightly liooked and escaped — their not L .ig 
 seen when taking perhaps accounting for this, as they did not 
 dus!i at the fly with sufficient vigour to carry them within sight 
 of the angler. CJenerally, however, in trout- and salmon-fishing, 
 tliose which take cjuietly under water are thought to hook them- 
 selves most securely, but I conclude that when the practice 
 becomes general and permanent, it is a sign of indifference on 
 the part of the fish. 
 
 My first morning's work gave me a new item of interest to 
 add to the increasing store. I rose a heavy fish twice at the 
 head of the pool, and had fished neaily down to the bottom of 
 it, casting carelessly, and wishing, for the sake of my unaccus- 
 tomed muscles, I was througii, when an unseen salmon seized my 
 fly, and rushed off down stream, getting out fifty yards of line 
 before Peter jMetallic, .laccjues' partner, could raise the anchor, 
 then turned, leaped iiigh out of water, and started up the Upsal- 
 (piitch, the mouth of which was opposite us. \V^e followed him 
 in the canoe as best we could against the strong current, but he 
 went so fast that, when at length I cliecked him, the barrel of 
 my reel was almost in siglit. lie then backed down slowly, with 
 frcciuent sliort upward runs, to tiie main river, and just as he 
 reached it. ga\ e another higli jump, then »'ame directly towards 
 
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 THE ADVENTURES OF 188(3. 
 
 211 
 
 US, so much faster tiian I could reel in, and the Indians paddle 
 towards the other shore, that the line bagged behind him, and, 
 to my horror, though we splashed the Avater to keep him 
 off", he darted directly under the canoe. I thought the rod 
 would have to go, but, fortunately, though the tip was bent 
 beneatii the surface, I managed to get it around the end, 
 over Peter's head, and found the Hue unentangled and the 
 fish still on. All this time we had been going a little down- 
 stream and near the centre of the river. The salmon, after a 
 third jump, started off with fresh vigour up the current of the 
 Kistigouche. After going a little way he stopped suddenly ; 
 and approaching, and reehng up as I did so, I found that 
 when within about twenty-five yards I could gain no more 
 line, and concluded that the fish was sulking. After waiting 
 a few moments, the men holding the canoe against the 
 stream with their poles, and the salmon nearly straight above 
 us, Jacques said, 'Dut salmon he fas-sen line roun' rock on 
 bottom an' go off.' 
 
 In a short time I reached the same conclusion, and began 
 reeling up to recover the line. On getting the canoe over it. 
 we found it was imder a large stone, as near as I could judge 
 about ten yards from the fly ; the men tried for some time 
 to move the stone with their poles, but it was heavy and 
 slippery, and it was hard to keep the canoe from drifting 
 down. At last I told .Jaccpies to get right over it, and I 
 would pull at the line till it broke and not bother any longer 
 to loosen it. Just as I expected the snap to come, the line 
 lost its hold under the stone and was freed. The canoe 
 then dropped down-stream, and I began reeling up, while 
 Jacques was cursing our hard luck in losing the fish in a 
 
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 $218 
 
 FLSIIIXG IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
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 choice mixture of English and Mic-Miic. j\Iy line, as I took 
 it in, did not come as freely as it should, and I found there 
 was still something at the end of it which I thought was 
 probably a small root. My astonishment may be imagined 
 when the something turned out to be the salmon, which 
 yielded quietly to the \ni\l until near the canoe, when off he 
 went, fresh as a daisy, from his long rest, .laccjues gave a 
 
 loud whoop, and shouted: 'Oh de beggar, he beat h !' 
 
 The fish gave us a good fifteen minutes' work up- and down- 
 stream before I could get ashor<., and there hung obstinately 
 in the current for near as much longer, taking me down 
 through the rajiid a quarter of a mile. AVhen Jacques finally 
 struck tlie gaff through his bright side and dragged him 
 asiiore, I felt a great weight of anxiety lifted off my mind 
 at the prosperous termination of tiie adventure. We did 
 not get him a moment too soon, as the line was frayed 
 down to a single strand of silk where it had been fast, and 
 could not have stood one more pull from the twenty-three 
 pounder. 
 
 I have never known of a case like this ; a salmon, after he 
 has the game in his own hands, and may get free by an in- 
 stant's exertion, kindly waiting until the fouled line, with much 
 s])lashing and knocking of iron-shod poles against the bottom 
 within a few yards of him, can be freed. The fish must have 
 stopped moving as soon as the line became fast ; probably 
 he was tired with the long preceding struggle, and liud 
 reached the shelter of some familiar rock, where he fel: safe 
 from harm. Truly, as Leonard Mascall says, ' the Salmon 
 is a gentle Fish, but he is cumbrous to take.' 
 
 Just as we reached camp with our iuird-earned victim, I 
 

 f&tm^iK'. 
 
 SSE^ 
 
 THE ADVENTI'RKS OF IH.SC. 
 
 219 
 
 saw a scow rounding the point below, on which were some of 
 the medical specialists of the C!hil), who were going up the 
 river in style, and bringing with them my luggage, which 1 
 could not get up the night before. 
 
 The ascent of the river, when a trip of a long distance is 
 ])rojected, is nowadays generally made in one of these scows, 
 evolved from the crude craft used by the lumbermen for 
 taking up their supplies. The first attempt at great improve- 
 ment in these was made a dozen or more years ago by Mr. 
 Bridges, one of the first lessees of the river, who had all of it 
 iibove Patapedia. The name he conferi-ed on his scow was 
 * Great Cicsar's Ghost,' and .she has furnished the substantial 
 model for all those now existing. 
 
 Various degrees of elegance are of course found in the 
 iialf-dozen or more in use, some having the house on deck 
 divided into two apartments, one for a sitting- and dining-room 
 and the other for .sleeping, while the kitchen is entirely apart 
 on the extreme stern, and the pantry thoroughly fitted witli 
 crockery and other housekeeping utensils. The windows are 
 all protected by gauze nettings to keep out the flies, there is 
 a space forward to enjoy the um-estricted open air, and the 
 canoes are either taken on board or towed behind. 
 
 The scows are drawn up-stream by horses, as many as four 
 being sometimes necessary, and the skill acquired by both the 
 rider and steeds to successfully manage the ascent is of a very 
 liigh grade. The latter, after a season or two of it, become 
 almost amphibious, and will stem a foaming rapid with only 
 their heads above water, or swim across a broad and seething 
 pool with a cheerfulness born of experience and hardships over- 
 come. The rider is constantly dri))ping from these frecjuent 
 
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 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATEllS. 
 
 t 
 
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 and deep wadiiifrs and swimmings, often up to his shoulders 
 in water, and always as wet as though he were so, from the 
 continual splashing he gets. The i)assengers are as comfortable 
 as if at home— more so, in fact. At the several houses on 
 the upper waters owned by the Club the excursionists may 
 stop for a change, and it is not an unusual thing to take the 
 scow up to the highest point they wish to go, and then send 
 it back with the horses on board, making the descent of the 
 river in the canoes, and stopping at the various fishing-points 
 on the way down. 
 
 A week after my arrival the ladies joined us, and when 
 the two or three days necessary to get them and us adjusted 
 to the new state of things had elapsed, we offered them the 
 treat of going down over the water at night to see the 
 salmon by the light of flambeaux. The Indians entered 
 heartily into the idea, and were occupied most of the after- 
 noon before the chosen evening in preparing the torches, 
 which is done by binding together strips of birch-bark 
 until they form a compact mass about two feet long and 
 six inches square. They kept chanting at their work what 
 they told me was a recital of an old chiefs former prowess 
 with the spear. The refrain, of which the song mostly 
 consisted, was — 
 
 ' Polycnrp Martin socks-y-ffuet, 
 Polycarp Martin eps-y-giict.' 
 
 'Vhich translated is — 
 
 ' Polycarp Martin making flambeaux, 
 Polycarp Martin making spearing.' 
 
 Polycarp is a well-known contemporary JMic-ISIac. 
 
 The moon went down at nine, and with it an unpro- 
 
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 loi.;riii,i(;il I (i.v riih. kuiCK 
 
 llrawii by 11. SANliliAM. ciiHriwil !>> .\n:..\s .irui ,su \.n. 
 
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 l!|l 
 
 I 
 
'1 1 
 
 I 
 
IW" 
 
 THE ADVENTUUES OF 18HC. 
 
 iiiil 
 
 pitious breeze, leuviiig the night and water perfect for our 
 puri)().se. At the canoes we foiuul standing in the bow of 
 each, and leaning sHghtly forward of it, sticks about five 
 feet long, cleft at the upper end for the admission of the 
 Hanibeaux, of which each canoe carried half-a-do/en. W'e 
 poled a mile up-stream to the Judge's Pool, where the 
 Hambeaux were lighted and stuck crossways in the deft 
 sticks. Then tl.o canoes formed in line across the river, 
 ecpiidistant from each other, and we began floating down. 
 As the flames seized the oily birch-bark, and it fried and 
 crackled with the heat, the outside darkness grew blacker, 
 and the oidy evidence to the eye of water beneath us was 
 the ripple on the pool as we passed over the quick part of 
 It. This was enough to prevent our seeing any fish in the 
 .ludge's or Nelson's Rock Pool just below. A little further 
 down we came to the long flat, where the shallower current 
 runs swiftly, but with perfect smoothness. Here the effect 
 was wonderful; so clear was the water that we could not 
 see the line where it ceased and the atmospliere began: 
 every pebble on the bottom was as distinct as if nothing 
 but air lay between us and it, the canoes seemed to be 
 floating in air, and the small fish, trout, suckers, and parr 
 looked like flying machines, so perfect was the delusion. 
 At the foot of this flat we saw the first salmon, a little one. 
 and at the head of the Upsalquitch Pool, a short distance 
 further, we came on a school of six large fish (juite near 
 the shore. They ran about in a dazed way as we floated 
 over, darting under the canoes, one very big one following 
 the lights and swimming alongside for a few moments after 
 his companions had been left behind. Jacques remarked, 
 
 fil 
 
 I 
 
8X8 
 
 IIsniN(; IN CAN'AniAN WATERS. 
 
 1 I' 
 
 • Ef we spciiriii' now we j^it couple (lis time, den pole back, 
 au nni over 'em again, an' j^^t couple more iiiehbe.' Through 
 the rest of the Camp Pool we saw no salmon, j)r()l)ul)ly by 
 reuscm of the rijjple ; but at the head of the Hat below it 
 we came on them again, first seeing one, thei two or three 
 together, and in one spot ten. Some of them dashed ott' out 
 of sight at once, others hardly moved, while some again 
 followed the canoes, running back and forward between and 
 under them. They were all in water from three to five feet 
 deej), which we had to touch to assure oiu'selves of its exist- 
 ence, and convince us that the appearance of these large 
 fish rushing through the air, with fins and tails for wings, 
 was but an illusion. Most of the sali:>on we saw here 
 were large, and one monster of certainly above forty pounds 
 glided several times in a leisurely way under the line cf 
 canoes, presenting a most inviting surface for u spear. 
 
 ^Vs the salmon grew freciuent the Indians began to get 
 excited ; .Faccjues stood up in the bow of our canoe, pole in 
 hand, balanced as if it were a spear, aiming at the salmon 
 as we passed them, and only by a strong effort and my 
 repeated warnings restraining himself from driving at each 
 fish that came within his reach. jVlexis N'icaire, a cousin of 
 .lucques, in another canoe, couldn't control his natural 
 instincts, and at last, with a Avild yell, struck at a passing 
 salmon, fortunately missing him. We were obliged to assert 
 our authority very strongly to check the growing desire of 
 the Indians to kill the salmon with their poles, which they 
 easily could have done. They seemed — especially the older 
 ones, who had in past times speared many a night through 
 these flats — half-crazed by the hkeness of this to their ( 
 
Till". .\l)VKNTI'Ui:s OF ISSfJ. 
 
 oo;) 
 
 expeditions when the river was free to tlieiii. full of salmon, 
 and the most delightful and productive part of the year was 
 that occupied in taking suHicient fish for their wants, and 
 iu» more, for the Indians alvvavs knew enough in Hshing or 
 hunting to stop when their needs were sup])lied. 
 
 iVs the ilumheaux hecame nearly consumtd they were 
 knocked out of the clefl-sticks into the water, and their 
 places supplied with fresh ones, the river behind us being left 
 strewn with burning fragmc;;ts of the fat birch-bark, looking 
 like great Hre-flies following in our track. As nearly as could 
 be counted, we saw something over forty salmon in one drift 
 of two miles to the end of the flat below the Upsahpiitch, 
 where we turned about for home, our flambeaux being used 
 up. The repressed spirits of the Indians fovmd vent in a race 
 up-stream, exciting principally from the frecjuent collisions of 
 the canoes, many of which were brought about purposely, with 
 a reckless disregard of breakages or upsets. Wc reached camp 
 however in safety, though all well dampened as the result of 
 the race ; and the Indians gradually calmed down under the 
 subduing influence of the hearty meal which their exertions 
 gave them the excuse for taking. 
 
 It is undoubtedly the fact with salmon, as it is with 
 trout, that an entirely new fly in colour and design will be 
 taken by fish which refuse those of i)roved adaptability for the 
 place and season. These evidences of fickleness in fish should 
 always be regarded simply as such, and not as the result of 
 some great new entomological discovery on the part of him 
 who accidentally profits by it. 
 
 ^Vith half-a-dozen, or even fewer, patterns of flies, I believe 
 any river may be well fished, and probably that number of 
 
224 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 \i 
 
 f 
 
 
 i 
 
 iii 
 ''I 
 
 varieties might be selected tliat would take more salmon 
 than all the other contents of the best-filled book. The sole 
 use of the ordinary great mass of material is to look at, and 
 from it to select what enables one to take advantage of those 
 days when fish which ha^e been some time in the river won't 
 look at the standard article, but will occasionally and moment- 
 arily yield to the seductions of an insect before unseen. 
 
 From several personal experiences of these freaks of 
 snhnon I give the following as an illustration : — 
 
 It was in a dry time, when the river was unusually low 
 and clear for the season. For a week we did not take half-a- 
 dozen fish, although we saAV a good many :n the lower pools. 
 After several days of hard work, without a rise even, I tied, 
 in the leisure hours after luncheon, such a fly as I was sure 
 no salmon in our neighbourhood had ever seen. The bodv 
 was blue, hackle bright yellow, and the wings made from two 
 good-sized entire feathers from the neck of the jinigle-cock, 
 not those commonly used, but taken from near the shoulder, 
 and mottled black and white. When the fly was fii'lshed I 
 dried and took it down to Captain Sweny's High Rock 
 Pool, which hadn't yielded a fish for ten days, and had my 
 hesL two hours' sport of the season, rising five salmon, of 
 which I hooked four and landed three. I went rather late, 
 and wasn't one-third of the way down the pool when dark- 
 ness came on, consequently what I might have done had I 
 been able to use to the full my opportunity will never be 
 known ; but I shall always believe that had I begun at three 
 o'clock instead of six I could have risen every salmon in the 
 pool with that monstrosity. On returning with my fish 
 I found the otliers had been unsuccessful, and after dinner 
 
 i:i ,,' 
 
 \ f 
 
 \ 
 
 \ -. 
 
 ■f 
 
THE ADVENTUUES OF 1886. 
 
 225 
 
 tied three more flies like mine for my companions. Next 
 morning we all took an early start, hoping to find the flsh 
 still of the same humour ; but, alas ! the short mania was over, 
 and the genus sahno of our parts had regained that discretion 
 and soundness of judgment whicli usually characterises it in 
 low water. Not a rise could be got to the new fly, then or 
 .ifter, even in the High Rock Pool, and it has probably killed 
 its flrst and last fish. 
 
 There is quite as mucl; difference in the strength and 
 determination of salmon as of men ; and as in men we find 
 rare ones who have a double endowment of these attributes 
 without showing any mditMtions of it on the surface, so the 
 angler will occasionally get hold of a salmon which seems pre- 
 ternaturally endowed with game and fighting ability. When 
 one of these is encountered he inspires his captor or loser 
 with new and lofty ideas of the j)ossibilities I'.e may have to 
 face, and with the belief tliat a twenty-five pound fisli of the 
 highest type can make short work of any ordinary tackle if 
 lie uses his powers intelligently. I am sure I shall never 
 forget the second and last fish of this kind I iiave success- 
 fully met. I had been jjotteriug about all one beautiful 
 sunny morning, spending a good part of it in trying to make 
 a stupid Frenchma:! uiulerstand how I wanted the leaky camp- 
 roof repaired. Jacques was hanging aroimd volunteering advice, 
 and anxious to get out on the water. When we finally 
 started, he remarked in a syinpatiiising tone, 'Tink you 
 might kick dat dam Frenchman ott' de pint. Jes now bout 
 Mission getting full of dem. Dey lazy beggars — don' like em 
 'tall.' Then, after a moment's hesitation, 'My tulder Frencli. 
 'bout half, hisself; dat's reason s'pose.' 
 
 2 V 
 
iU^ 
 
 i! 
 
 
 !fl 
 
 
 i 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKllS. 
 
 It was near noon, and as we expected coni])any to hmclieon, 
 we went down to the lower part of the pool at once, and 
 had no sooner anchored tlian, in the strong water directly in 
 front of ns, where there was a hreak over a low-lying rock, 
 we saw, or thonght we did, a fish just come to the top, 
 though the white-crested wave made it very hard to be certain. 
 However, after fishing both sides out, I let the fly dally 
 slowly just over the underlying boulder, and right below the 
 breaker it was taken and carried to the bottom. After an 
 instant', r'^st, tlie fish went up-stream two hundred yards, the 
 Indians poling after him as fast as they could, and I, after 
 the first half of his run, giving him all the butt the rod 
 would bear ; he then turned at a right angle and jumped 
 twice, kindly stopping after the last leap long enough for us 
 to get up to hiui. These runs had given me such an idea of 
 his grea; strength that 1 was surprised at seeing so small a 
 fish when lie showed above water. His next move was 
 straight down-stream, and though ',ve had an even start with 
 him in the canoe, and the Indians paddled their best, he 
 exhausted all but about five of my one hundred and fifty 
 yards of line before he halted, wliich he did suddenly, and 
 without being apparently influenced by the very heavy pres- 
 sure I had on him all the way. Had I been on sliore he 
 would have broken me on this run to a certainty, and I am 
 sure nobody could have saved him with fewer than two 
 hundred <iiid fifty yards of line from the bank. \Vc had no 
 sooner caught up to the fish than he repeated the perform- 
 ance, again stopj)ing when half-a-minute more would have 
 set him free. He did not show the least symptom of fatigue, 
 or of being induced to stoj) by reason of the load he was 
 
 'f 
 
"r 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF 188(5. 
 
 aa7 
 
 dragging, but liis halts were as sudden and abrupt as his 
 starts, v.'itli no preparatory slovving-up. 
 
 Four of these long runs did he make, part of them 
 straight down and others diagonally across, and we all began 
 to think — for by this time our company had arrived, and the 
 fleet had joined us to see the diversion and assist Avith advice 
 — that our judgment of the size of the fish was wrong, and 
 he was as big as his great strength would indicate. 
 
 At last, a full mile below where he was hooked, Peter 
 gaffed him very cleverly by going below, wading out up to 
 his middle, and crouching behind a rock till the fish 
 worked down to it. I think when gaffed he had a couple 
 more good runs in him, as he hadn't begun to give in a bit, 
 and resisted at once every attempt to coax him near shore. 
 His weight was but twenty-five pounds, and he was hooked 
 just in the angle of the jaw very firmly. I had on a bran 
 new Une and casting-line ; but even with these favourable con- 
 ditions it was only a piece of luck that the fish was worsted. 
 I felt all through the early part of the contest that he could 
 break me whenever he chose, and his last run was as strong 
 and determined as his first. It was only by sticking to the 
 canoe that I managed to save him, as I could not have kept 
 near enough him by running along shore to retain any of my 
 hue. I should say that seventy-five yards on the reel is 
 ample for the ordinary fish of twenty-five to thirty pounds — 
 if played entirely from the shore — on the Uistigouche, while 
 double the amount wouldn't have sufficed for this salmon 
 without some swifter means of following him than on foot 
 down the rough beach. 
 
 Just below Camp Harmony, on the Quebec side and 
 
 *f I,- •/ 
 
i! i> 
 
 SS8 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 joining our property, there is tlie frontage of a settler named 
 Alford, wlio has half-a-mile of fairish water. This he rents to 
 casual anglers when he can, and at other times fishes it most 
 persistently himself. Sometimes he takes a boy along to help, 
 but generally goes out alone in an extremely cranky log 
 canoe. It is a treat to see his cleverness in handling a fish 
 alone, and many a one we have watched him kill from our 
 piazza, through a glass. 
 
 As soon as he hooks a salmon he throws overboard the 
 buoy to his anchor, and with a pole in one hand and his rod 
 in the other works to the shore as quickly as he can, per- 
 forming successfully some very difficult balancing feat when 
 he has to pole up stream with one hand, standing, and control 
 with the other a lively salmon. Of course he has to give 
 out lots of line in the critical period before reaching land, 
 which he loses no timi° in recovering when he gets there. 
 There is quite a smooth gradually-slo])ing beach near the end 
 of his property, and to this he directs the fish as it 
 becomes exhausted, and when the proper moment comes gets 
 it head-on towards shore, and, once started straight, hauls it up 
 on the beach. It would seem that the necessary pull to do this 
 would break the hold of the hook. It sometimes does, but as 
 both the salmon and small wet stones are very slippery, the 
 force re(|uired is very much less than would be sup])osed. 
 
 We remained in 1886 until early in August. Towards the 
 last the water was \ery low and the fish hard to take. They 
 ct)uld not be had in the Camp Pool by fisliing from a canoe, 
 they had learned too well what this was ; but I managed to 
 get one almost every day by wading and long casting with 
 small flies. We made one enjoyable excursion to the Little 
 
 ¥- 
 
 \ 
 
THE ADVExNTURES OF 1886. 
 
 229 
 
 Falls of the Upsalquitch, six miles t'istant, where there is one 
 of the most beautiful pools that can be imagined. We got 
 no salmon there, but the boys caught fitly or sixty trout in 
 it as fast as they could cast, all brilliantly-coloured brook- 
 trout, from a quarter to three-quarters of a pound. 
 
 'J'he total catch on our ivater for the season was two 
 hundred and thirty salmon and sixteen grilse, and all the 
 stations on the river did very well. There are rivers where 
 the annual catch per rod is greater than on the llistigouche, 
 but I know of none where the whole number is so great, or 
 wiiere uniformly better sport can be had by tiie angler. Its 
 accessibility, and the ease of getting supplies, are to most 
 people very desirable features, while at the same time one can 
 easily get all the untainted wilderness and discomfort he 
 wants. I believe it, in its fishing, scenery, and general 
 advantages, altogether the best Canadian river, and capable of 
 indefinite improvement. It has won my heart, as it lias 
 those of nearly all who have been once s^-bjected to its spell. 
 
 When the day of our departure came we felt we had not iialf 
 appreciated our good time, and that if we could live tiie month 
 over again it might be made to yield much more enjoyment 
 
 On embarking, Peter produced his worn fiddle and drew 
 from it a mournful wail ; Jacques waved his hat and shouted 
 ' Good-bye, Apsequish,' and we swept down tlie current in 
 line, witii our eyes turned backward, till the bend in the river 
 at High llock shut suddenly off our hist view for the year 
 of Squaw's Cap, the brown roof of Camp Ilarnioiiy. and tlie 
 spruce-dad mountain behind it, around whidi the long- 
 winged fish-hawks were sailing in great circles through tlie 
 cloudless expanse of the blue sky. 
 

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 Ml 
 
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 til 
 
 i, ii 
 
r 
 
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 I 
 
 
 I 
 
 '\ 
 
 V 
 
 KAi >IMI1.1'. IKiiM A I oil! \ OK jLsriMAN i.v/..( 1.171). 
 
 1\ Tin: AI>\(U .\ri'S' !,ll'.K.\kV 
 
 ICnRiaviil by .\n\.\\ and .'^v. .s.\. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 While flowing rivers yield a blameless sport, 
 
 Shall live the name of Walton : sage benign 
 
 Whose pen, the mysteries of the rod and line 
 
 Unfolding, did not fruitlessly exhort 
 
 To reverent watching of eacli still report 
 
 That Nature utters from her rural shrine. 
 
 Meek, nobly versed in simple discij)line — 
 
 He found the longest summer day too short. 
 
 To his loved pastime given by sedgy I.ee, 
 
 Or <lown the tempting maze of Shawford brook 
 
 I'"aircr than life itself, in this sweet b(H)k, 
 
 The cowslip-bank and shady willow-tree ; 
 
 And the fresh meads — where flowed, from every nook 
 
 Of his full bosom, gladsome piety ! 
 
 WoriDswoiiTii. 
 
t, 
 
 I : t 
 
 J- 'y 
 
mill iiv-iiitii 
 
 .' fl^ 
 
 a well-houiul copy of some good edition in his library — not 
 particularly to read, but just to own as one would Chaucer, 
 Sir Thomas More, or Hume. To such, a shelf filled with 
 Waltons, from the small hardly-used first of ]6o3, along 
 through the Bagsters, Hawkinses, and Majors, the tiny volumes 
 
 'J (; 
 
 1 
 
t r 
 
 ) 'y 
 
ANGI,IX(i I.rn.KA TUKI'. 
 
 »'i 
 
 
 X tlie eyes of liis ^-[ood-iuitiivecl friends 
 who do not share his interests the col- 
 lector of angling books, I think, generally 
 appears an object of pity, and to those 
 who are inclined to harsher judgments 
 a tinge of contempt is apt to be added 
 to this feeling. Even to many of the 
 collectors in other de|)artments he appears as one pursuing 
 a course unworthy of serious attention. 
 
 To be sure, every one has heard of Walton and Cotton, 
 and in a general way considers the Complcfe Au^lcr a good 
 and desirable book, of which every gentleman should have 
 a well-bound copy of some good edition in his library^ — not 
 particularly to read, but just to own as one would Chaucer, 
 Sir Thomas More, or Hume. To such, a shelf filled with 
 Waltons, from the small hardly-used first of 16.53, along 
 through the Bagsters, Hawkinses, and Majors, the tiny volumes 
 
a!54 
 
 I'ISIII.\(i IN (ANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 ^ i' 
 
 of 1825 and 18-t4, to tlie imposing and .suinptiioiis Pickering 
 of 183G and Wiley of 1880 — ninety odd in all— appears an 
 entirely snperfliions possession, and its aecuniulation unworthy 
 the occupation of a man of sense, who, if he must collect 
 books, can find so many topics of practical utility to work 
 upon. 
 
 1 sometimes think that the deveh)pment of the book- 
 collector is largely due to the primitive venatorial instinct 
 which is more or less dee))ly latent in every human breast; 
 not the beginning of it — not that whidi leads to the building- 
 up of a general library, but the ))eculiai effect which comes 
 after a good start is made in collecting on any one subject, 
 and the victim begins gradually to ap])reciate what lies before 
 him, what he must have, n'hat ])itfalls and snares lie should 
 avoid, and what unexpected and momentous difficulties are 
 in his path. As he rises to the dignity and importance of 
 his new career, he finds himself in a microcosm the existence 
 of which he never before suspected, and, if he has the courage 
 to press on in the hard i)ath, he soon begins to experience 
 all the pleasure and disappointment of the chase. 
 
 A hot i)ursuit of one volume, lasting through years, ends 
 in disastrous failure; another, souglit after with eciual avidity, 
 may come to hand by the merest chance in some obscure 
 spot, and at a price far below that which the ardent fancy 
 of its pursuer would place upon it. 
 
 So the lordly salmon, which has remained nmnoved in 
 his rocky hold wliile the practised angler has vainly temjjted 
 him with all tlie resources of li'.s art-and at last, discouraged, 
 has abandoned — will, wandering to some unaccustomed shoal 
 or strange and tempting eddy, yield hiniself to the Hy cast 
 
 ■J] 
 
 MMl 
 
-, A 1. \l 1 I \ I- I s 11 I \ !■ - 
 
 ' III livcTs svvifl. yuur .S.ilnioii ,in gu.n slor.', 
 WlicTt' Willi vast ni'i-, tlii'y ufifii l-iiiiK hi sIlmc, 
 Miuiy Dfllicm, iiiul ilivns olIiiT ii.'-li, 
 Wliidi when well lirrat, 111 lor n i'liiico's ilisli. 
 
 •Salmon Ii-.iu\.; IVuiu s, m-i.M Wai.'s .i. iha i r.', n \wKi\.. ami • i^ihN',, 
 
 MDKlllSii In nil I.-.'. 1,1-11 M.WNI i;. liurr,l,.l Iv iKWlls |l.\Klin\. 
 
 Ki.lnd 111 W ll.ill.iv. !',ii!;ra.i-.l In l.k-iiiiih- In \Mi.in .iinl Sttaii. 
 
 n 
 
 I H 
 
 '. I 
 
/ 
 
V 
 
AN(ii,iN(; MTi.nA'icin:. 
 
 'Mir, 
 
 with small lio))efiiliiess and care, entirely disproportioned to 
 tiie importance of the result it brings. 
 
 Unlooked for or easiiv-won ))rizcs, as in shootin"- and 
 fishing, add to the charm of book-collecting, and their liaj)- 
 l)ening is received with much o*" the same spirit. Every 
 coUcctor has in his mind volumes on his subject that ne 
 neglects no chance of procuring. Perhaps, as Penn in his 
 M(uviiiis and Hints advises, he conceals the objects of his 
 pursuit lest the knowledge of them should stimulate the 
 ju-dour of rivals. For them no well-trained setter ranges and 
 (piarters the game-haunted field with nio.c assiduity and 
 thoroughness than he does all the shojjs, sti.lls, and cata- 
 logues he thinks may hold his (piarry ; nor, wh'jn obtained, 
 does the dog mouth and carry his bird with more tender 
 care. 
 
 As the collector's shelves fill uj), his constantly renewed 
 wants become harder to gratify, for they are confined to the 
 rarer and older works which Time has drawn his tithes from, 
 and the remnant is in hands .vliich will not loose their grip 
 while life or fortune .eniiiins. 
 
 How many of these scarce and valuable books are de- 
 stroyed or injured by the careless handling of well-mcanin<>- 
 persons ! I once saw a lady, to whom a first Walton was 
 incautiously being shown, slowly turning over each leaf with 
 her wetted finger, while tiie owner looked on in despair with- 
 out daring to say a word. Of another \cry rare book I 
 saw the choicest plate, which was folded, torn half in two 
 by a frienil of its possess.. who ajjologised handsomely for 
 the accident, and indeed ..tiered to take the copy and replace 
 it witli a perfect one,— which he might have done in ten vears. 
 
 2 (i -> 
 
 
 I .1 
 
 1' 
 
'^;J(5 
 
 I'ISIIINd IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 '! ; 
 
 .^i 
 
 
 )'', 
 
 I 
 
 if fortunate. One golden rule for collectors, too often learned 
 by sad experience, is to let no ])rofane hand touch tlieir 
 choice volumes. It is certain tiiat people not esjjecially in- 
 terested do not care for such things, and yet, though bored, 
 feel it their duty to profess an interest in them. A large 
 portion of the general public think that to show a proper 
 appreciation of a rare book each leaf of it should be turned 
 over as if in search of a hidden treasure, and various ])assages 
 read aloud admiringly, entirely irrespective of any literary 
 merit they may have; and the result is likely to be that, 
 through slieer good-nature, a damage is done in ten minutes 
 of ignorant and well-meant laudation that fifty judicious 
 handlings woid.i not iiiHict. 
 
 The literature of angling boasts the labours of many accom- 
 plished scholars and interesting writers besides AN'alton and 
 the learned Cotton, (ireat ])oets have sung of the piscatorial 
 art, men learned in the law have written of its mysteries, 
 and the votaries of the church have given it some of its 
 t'hoicest jewels. 
 
 Of the ancients, Oppian, who wrote the Ilalktiticd, a 
 (ireek angling treatise, is the most prominent ; but until the 
 English began to feel the writing impulse not much of any 
 account was done. 
 
 In 148<> was published The liokc of St. Albans, written by 
 the IVitvivss of Sopwcll, Dame .lulyans IJarnes, and it is her 
 claim to tiie remembrance of posterity. The first edition w': 
 printed, according to the liil)li()tlurn Piscatorhi, 'by the school- 
 n\aster printer of St. Albans, 148G'; the second '.vas printed 
 by Wynkyn de Worde in 1 ■!■!)(). Of these very few copies 
 are known, and the book is almost {jricclcss. In tiie edition 
 
 If' ; 
 
 Ml 
 
AN(i! Nd LITKRATrUi;. 
 
 2!37 
 
 of 1490 the spelling of the iiaine is ciianged to ' IJernes,' and 
 has gradually become ' Herners.' Holinshed's Clironkks in 1577 
 calls it ' Hemes.' There have been a score of reprints of the 
 whole book and the angling part of it by itself, several of 
 tlieui handsome facsimiles of the original black letter. Of 
 these, Mr. Joseph Haslewood's, in 1810, with its mass of 
 biographical and bibliographical work, is the best and the 
 most elegant. It is now rare. 
 
 Of Juliana, Hishop IJale, in his collection of British Bio- 
 graphies,' Kays : 
 
 ' She was an illustrious female, eminently endowed with 
 superior (jualities, both mental and personal. Among the 
 many solaces of human life, she held the sports of the field 
 in the highest estimation. This heroic woman saw that they 
 were the exercises of noble men after wars, after the adminis- 
 tration of justice or the concerns of the State. She had 
 learned, perhaps, that Ulysses instituted such diversions after 
 the Contjuest of Troy, and that they received commendation 
 from IMato,' etc. etc., all showing that the good Hishop 
 had a tender side towards sporting members of the cloth. 
 
 In 18Sa appeared— 
 
 'All oUliM- form of tilt' 7V<i>/ic of Fij.s.slii/iifiV Ki/th (in Angle iittri- 
 luitcd to Diiiiie Jiiliaiui Hiiiiios, iiriiitt'il from ii Ms. in the 
 jmssessioii of Alfivd Dcnisoii, Ks(i., witli I'rffiux- iiiul Glossary 
 by Tlioiiiiis Sati-lii'll.' 
 
 Mr. Satchell thinks this was written at an earlier date 
 than 1450, and is drawn from the same original with the 
 Westminster edition of 149G. Although substantially the 
 
 ' niitslriiiin Miijori.-. liritaiinUe Scriptorum Summariuiii. Ipswith, 154S. .Xiiother 
 edition was publibhctl 1557. 
 
 y, 
 
' I 
 
 III ^ 
 
 ii;58 
 
 riSlIINC IN CANADIAN WA'i'KllS. 
 
 I 
 
 same as the fishing j.art of tlie Jio/a' of St. Jlbau.s, tl.ere 
 are so many (lifrerenc-cs of plirase, ortliograpliy, and sense, tliat 
 Mr. Satc'hell feels sure of ai. independent source for it, wiiicli 
 casts a shadow of doubt on tlie originality of that part at 
 least of the liokc of ^ Albans. Whoever the author, she 
 or he was a true sportsman and lover of Nature. Her clos- 
 ing advice to anglers is so excellent that I cpiote a portion 
 of it: they nnist not be 'to rauenous in takyng of your sayd 
 -ame, or to moche at one time, whyche ye may lyghtly doo 
 if ye doo in every jmynt as this present treatyse shewytli 
 you in every i)oynt, whyche sholde lygiitly be oceasyon to 
 dystroyc your owne dysportes and other mennys also— as 
 whan ye have a suflycycnt mese ye sholde covete no more 
 as at that tyme.' There arc several pages on the proper con- 
 duct of anglers which are interesting and instructive, and 
 apply to the nineteenth just as strongly as to the fifteenth 
 
 century. 
 
 After the liohc of St. Albans there is a long hiatus in 
 the preser\ed angling literature of England until Leonard 
 Mascall, in l.VJO, broke the silence by publishing— 
 
 'A Uooki- of V\>\\w^ "itii Hooki' <*t l-iiHS ii'id of all otlier iii- 
 stnnncMits tl.fivuuto (.cloii-iiif;. AnolluT of surulric iMi-ines and 
 'r.ai)iR's to tako ToUatN Kuzards, Uattcs, Mice and all otluT 
 Kiiuk's of Wniiine N: leasts wliatsoi'iaT, most in-olitahlf for all 
 WarriiRTs and >uih as dulif-lil in tliis kindc of sport and pas- 
 
 tillK." 
 
 A reprint of this, also edited by Mr. Thomas Satchell. 
 in 1884, states in the I'reface that the book is a com- 
 pilation micle by a practical angler from the Tnatn-sc of 
 r,,s.sh!jn^c xath an Angle, LAgncuUinr ct Maison liu.stu/nc 
 (Praedium Ihisticum ?), and other sources. It is illustrated. 
 
 ri' 
 
 J 
 
■^ 
 
 ANGUNC MTKltATrRK 
 
 839 
 
 and coiitiiins the usual (juaiut medifuval recii)es for angling. 
 'To bohble for yeeles,' uc learn, was done in tliose days 
 just as it now is in this country, and 'To take the Sanion 
 as well in the Itiver as in the Sea ' tiie following is recom- 
 mended : 'Take eight drains of Cockes stones and the (\n-ncls 
 of pine apple tree burnt sixteene drams, beate all together 
 a like till it be in tlie manner of meale.' Another, 'Take 
 the seedes of Wild Rue eigiit drams, the fat of a vcale 
 eyght drams; of sesame thirteene drams, beat altogether. 
 and make small loaves thereof, and use them as the other 
 before mentioned. This much more taken from Stephanus 
 in French.' 
 
 The works of this Stephanus, who is elsewhere quoted 
 by Mascall, must have been destroyed by justly emagcd 
 anglers who tried his recipes, as I can find no other reference 
 to them in the BiUhf/icni Pisvafor'nt or elsewhere. 
 
 A curious book that is properly classed among those on 
 angling is Ilortns Sanifatis, a compilation which passed 
 through various editions—the first about U90, Strasbmg— and 
 embellished, in the later editions at least, with great numbers 
 of woodcuts, which are interesting, both from being among 
 the first attempts in that art and from the verv sin<>ular 
 animals they represent. The title-page and colophon of 
 the edition of 1.536, now before me, which are of a very 
 ambitious design, are attributed to Holbein. They are worthy 
 of him, and of a nuich higher character than the other 
 illustrations. It is hardly necessary to say that the book 
 is written in German.' 
 
 In 1G13 .T. I). (.Tohn Demiys) published Secrets of 
 
 ' Hurt, I'tc. 
 
 yi 
 
 'J. 
 
n 
 
 
 II 
 
 '.13 
 
 i 
 
 .!Kt 
 
 lIsniNd IN ( ANADIAN WATKllS. 
 
 Aitgimg: in "hicli tlic poems are amongst the l)est on the 
 subject, and the book is delightful reading at the present 
 day. He gives good advice about tackle and clothing, and 
 his ' Obiection to Angling,' and ' Answere ' to it are worthy 
 ill rhythm and sentiment to go beside any angling verses. 
 Of clothing he says : 
 
 ' Ami let your garments Russet be, or griiy, 
 Of folour ilarke and hardest to descrye, 
 That with the llaine or weather wil away, 
 And least offend tiie f'earfull Fishes eye. 
 For neither Skarlet nor rieh cloth of ray, 
 Nor Colours dii)t in fresli Assyrian dye. 
 Nor tender silkes of I'lirple, I'aulc, or gokle, 
 Will serve so well to kecpe off wet or colde.' 
 
 A reprint of J. O. has lately been edited by ' Piscator.' 
 Edinburgh, 1885, and according to him there does not exist 
 a rarer angling book. A lunnber of difierent editions have 
 been published. 
 
 Gervase Markham, a Royalist Captain under Charles i.. 
 was one of the most popular of angling writers, and indee<l 
 he neglected no subject connected with military affairs, 
 agriculture, or horsemanship. Himting, farriery, hawking, 
 fowling, midwifery, heraldry, poetry, and the drama, all were 
 fields for the exercise of his versatile talents. He has been 
 accused of plagiarism, and with the comparative scarcity of 
 books in his time such a charge could be more easil\ 
 established than in the case of more recent works. 
 
 Westwood and Satciiell give him half a dozen titles in 
 liibUuthira I'iscatoria, and most of his books went througli 
 numerous editions. Many of the titles are curious, as— 
 
an(;lin(; LiTi:ii.\Triu;. 
 
 !2i1 
 
 'The Plfo-siiies of Priiues, or (Joodincirs Uucreiitioiis, containing a 
 Discourse of tlie f,'iiu'nill Art of Fisliin;,' witli tiic Aiiglf »»' 
 otherwise, nnd of nil tlie Iliihlen Secrets helongiii;,' tiiereiinto. 
 Toftetiier with the ("lioice of the l''if,'htin}< Cociie, heinj? ii Worlic 
 newer in tiiiit nature Imiulleil by miy fornuT Author. I,oniion. 
 
 'A Wiiv to K^-t AVeivltli ; containing sixe jjrincipiil vocations ... in 
 wliidi every good husljand or housewife may hiwfully iinphiy 
 themselves. London, KiJJl.' 
 
 The rarest of tliese productions of Markliam, and one of 
 
 tlie scarcest of all works on angling, is — 
 
 'The Young Sportsman's Delight, and Instructor in Angling, Fowling, 
 Hawking, Hunting, ordering Singing Uirds, Hawkes, Toultry, 
 Conies, Hares, Dogs, etc., and how to Cure them. Hy (1. M. Sold 
 at the King in Little Hritain. Trice, (Jd.' 
 
 with a second title — 
 
 ' A Compleat and LxperiencM Angler, in Two Parts, or the Angler's 
 
 Vade Mecum,' 
 
 In this little book Markluun is as inaccurate as brief in 
 some of his observations on salmon, and the concluding 
 ' Pleasant story for anglers ' is the oidy part at all worthy 
 of quotation. Here it is, and its moral is apparent :— 
 ' One day a person being fishing it hajjpen'd that he 
 pulled up a Dead-Man's Scull, and imagining that it came 
 there by chance thought it was a Deed of Charity to bury 
 it. Whereupon he goes Home and gets a Spade, and finding 
 a convenient Place he fell to digging, and having dug deep 
 he espied a large Old Bag, which pulling out found it to be 
 full of (lold. Thus was the poor Man enriched unexpectedly. 
 Mr. Satchell, in the Bibliothcca Piscutoria, says he knows of 
 but one perfect copy of this book. I believe, however, there 
 are two in the United States. 
 
 In 1G.j1, Thomas Barker, who is said to have followed 
 
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 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 
 the lowly but important vocation of a cook, published a 
 sliort treatise entitled 
 
 ' Tlie Art of Angling, wherein are discovered ninny Ilare Secrets very 
 necessary to be known by all who delight in that Recreation.' 
 
 It has always struck me that Barker owes more of 
 his distinction to the favourable opinion in which he was 
 held by Walton than to the merit of his short monograph 
 of sixteen pages. A considerable portion of it is devoted to 
 the cooking of various kinds of fish ; and the instructions, 
 while doubtless those of a practical angler, are made subor- 
 dinate to tales of his own exploits. The ' second edition, 
 much enlarged,' is called 
 
 ' Barker's Delight ; or, the Art of Angling, wherein are discovereil many 
 Rare Secrets very necessary to i)e known by all that delight in 
 that Recreation, both for Catching the Fish and Dressing thereof" 
 (1657). 
 
 The Bibliothcca Piscatoria says of this: 'The "enlarge 
 ment " consists mainly of culinary recipes, and of some scraps 
 of verse, roughly coopered and stiff jointed. The culinary 
 feature is of such frequent occurrence, that one is apt to take 
 Harker for parcel angler, parcel cook, and to imagine tluit 
 when he doffed rod and creel it was to don the white night- 
 cap and apron.' 
 
 At most, Barker was a premonitory herald of the great 
 chief of writers on angling, who two years later, in the 
 month of May 1053, published 
 
 'The Conipleat Angler, or the Contemplative Man's Recreation: being 
 a Discourse of Fish and Fishing, not unworthy the perusal of most 
 Anglers.' 
 
 ^ ,1 
 f 1 
 
 MA 
 
ANGLING LITERATURE. 
 
 243 
 
 Tlie price was l.y. firf., and the author's name does not 
 appear on the title-page, but only at the end of the ' Epistle 
 Dedicatory,' and then in the modestly abbreviated form cf 
 
 Iz. Wa.' 
 Theie must be transcendent merit in a bo ' on such a 
 subject which, two hundred years after its appearance, is 
 {renerally read and admired by the intelligent and learned; 
 without which no Ubrary is complete ; which has gone through 
 nearly one hundred editions, many of them distinguished for 
 their excellence; and which bids fair to long hold its position 
 as the first English pastoral classic. Any one who will read 
 it can easily account for the long-lived enthusiasm it has 
 excited. Enthusiasm perhaps is not tiie right word, as it 
 indicates something less deep-seated and permanent than the 
 calm restful spirit which pervades the volume, and insensibly 
 influences the mind of the reader. 
 
 The (puiint honesty, charity, simplicity and kindness 
 of Walton show on every page; and the appreciative and 
 ciiarming descriptions of the minute incidents of the walks 
 
 persuade one that no selfish or inhumane thought ever 
 
 harboured in that gentle breast. 
 
 The impressions of the personal character of Walton 
 
 gained from reading the Compkat Angler are wonderfully 
 
 definite and delightful. In writing his book, without knowing 
 
 it, he writes his own personality just as clearly, and with 
 
 the strongest impress of truthfulness. 
 
 How beautifully has Mr. Westwood, in his Txwlvc Sonnets, 
 
 ])ortrayed the man 1 I wish I could quote them all here, 
 
 but one must suffice : 
 
 "( 
 
 m 
 
:t! 
 
 '■iU FISHING IN CANADIAN WATEllS. 
 
 ' So Fine Ear, stooping with a stcadfnst will 
 Above thy mouldering tomb in summer time, 
 Hears still what seems a ripple or a rhyme, 
 Unsilenced by the centuries, — hears still. 
 Through chinks and clefts, a little babbling rill. 
 Then <|uaint discourse : I'iscator's homily. 
 The voice we honour, — Auccps' grave reply, 
 V'enator's jest ; and presently a thrill 
 Of music joyous, without fret and jar, 
 " Come, live with me, and be my love "; and, near, 
 The nightingale's sweet cadence, full and clear. 
 Or bay of otter hounds from fields afar — 
 Old life, old sport of Lea-side or of I)«)ve, 
 The life we cherish, and the sport we love.' 
 
 The verse of Walton is quite as cliarming as his prose. 
 Nothing could be more in accord and iniison with tjje spirit 
 of tiie scenes lie describes than that he quotes from 'holy 
 Mr. Herbert,' beginning — 
 
 ' Sweet day ! so cool, so calm, so bright — 
 The bridal of the earth and sky.' 
 
 Everything else he writes is fidl of tiie same sentiment of 
 iiarmony and peace, not without gaiety, and a large infusion 
 of kindly humour. His quotations of verse are frequent and 
 interesting. A song he ascribes to one AVilliam Basse ends 
 thus : 
 
 ' The first men that our Saviour deare 
 Did chuse to wait upon Him here 
 Klest Fishers were, and fish the last 
 Food was that he on earth did taste : 
 
 I therefore strive to follow those 
 
 Whom he to follow him hath chose.' 
 
 The 'Noble, Learned and Diuine W. Salustius, Lord of 
 Hartas,' is frequently quoted by Walton, and he was indeed 
 a man to quote from. Du Bartas wrote sevc.al lengthy 
 
 I 
 
 t ^i 
 

 T 
 
 ANGLING LITERATURE, 
 
 245 
 
 I)oeins, the translation of which into English by Sylvester 
 has been the latter's chief claim to remembrance. It is only 
 with The First Wcehc, or the Birth of t\e World, 1598, of 
 which ^Valton made such free use, that the angling collector 
 has to do. The poem is full of queer and novel ideas. 
 The contrast quoted by Walton between the licentious 
 conduct of *Tir adulterous Sargus ' and the 'Constant 
 Cantharus,' the latter 
 
 ' In nuptial duties spending his chaste life ; 
 Never loves any but his own dear wife,' 
 
 and also concerning the mullet, who 'for chaste love hath 
 no Peer,' marks the high tide of mediieval superstition. 
 
 Another 'observation' of Du Bartas I shall follow 
 Walton in giving — 
 
 ' G(k1, not contented to each kind to give 
 And to infuse the virtue generative, 
 By His wise power made many creatures breed 
 Of lifeless bodies, without V'enus' deed. 
 
 ' So the cold humour breeds the Salamander, 
 Who, in effect, like to her birth's commander, 
 W >.h child with hundred Winters, with her touch 
 Quencheth the fire, though glowing ne'er so much. 
 
 ' So in the fire, in burning furnace, springs 
 The fly Perausta, with the flaming wings ; 
 Without the fire it dies, in it it joys. 
 Living in that which all things else destroys. 
 
 ' So slow Bootes underneath him sees. 
 In th' icy Islands, Goslings hatch'd of Trees," 
 Whose fruitful leaves, falling into the water, 
 Are turn'd, 'tis known, to living fowls soon after. 
 
 ' In one of the Magazines of 1807 is given a circumstantial account of a Barnacle 
 Tree, a tree bearing geese, taken up at sea in January of that year by Captain 
 Bytheway, and on exhibition at Woolwich. The branches bore f- sands of eggs. 
 
 V 
 
 J 
 
 1. 
 
! i 
 
 ! / 
 
 1. 1; 
 
 i ; 
 
 246 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 ' So rotten planks of broken ships do change 
 To barnacles. () trnnsfomiation strange ! 
 'Twas first a green Tree, then a broken Hull, 
 Lately a Mushroom, now a flying Gull.' 
 
 Du Ilartas devotes a number of pages to the conduct of 
 tisli in different situations of peril, and very curious tliey are, 
 as may be judged by this short sample : — 
 
 ' But if the Scolopcndra hath .suckt in 
 The sower sweet Morsell with the barbed Pinne, 
 She hath as rare a trick to ridd her from it, 
 For instantly she all her guts doth vomit, 
 And, having clear 'd them from the danger, then 
 She faire and softly sups them in againe. 
 So tliat not one of them within her wombe 
 CI nngeth his office or his wonted roome.' 
 
 Anything like an adequate bibliographical study of 
 >Valton would be a tiresumptuous attempt, eitlier in the 
 ••onfines of tliis chapter or in view of the many already 
 existing excellent ones. Mr. Westwood l>as, in I'/ic Chronicle 
 of the Complete Anfflcr, 1864, almost exhausted the possibilities 
 of the subject, while of the prefaces to the various editions 
 we can point with pride to that of the late Rev. Dr. 
 Hethune of Brooklyn, N.V., in the Wiley editions, as being, 
 particularly in its thorough and discriminating appreciation 
 of Walton as a man, author, and angler, and its learned dis- 
 •juisition on angling literature, easily the best that has yet 
 
 which hung to eight inches of the tree, and each one, according to Sir Robert Moray, 
 who opened many of them, contained a perfect sea-fowl, with a bill like that of a goose, 
 feet like those of a water-fowl, and feathers all plainly formed. In Urowny's Piscatory 
 I'.ih'gues the same belief is expressed : — 
 
 • Say, canst thou tell how worms of moisture breed, 
 Or I'ike are gendered of the Pick'rel weed, 
 How carps without the parent kinds renew, 
 Or slimy eels are formed of genial dew ? ' 
 
ANGLING LITER ATUllE. 
 
 24- 
 
 appeared. The example of Walton seemed to have incited 
 others to the production of works on angling— among them 
 Colonel Robert Venables, a Tarliamentary soldier and 
 Governor of Chester, who made an unfortunate military 
 expedition to Hispaniola, on his return from which, in lOo*. 
 he and other of the Generals were imprisoned for a time in 
 tlie Tower. 
 
 Colonel Venables solaced a part of his declining years in 
 
 writing 
 
 ' The Ex|)erieiic\l Aiif^ler, or AiiRlinf,' Improved : »K'iii<; a nenerul 
 Disfourse of Angling, Inipftrtiiig nmnv of the ajitest wiiyes and 
 clioieest Exjierinients for tlie taking of most sorts of I'ish in I'ond 
 or Iliver." 
 
 This was printed in 1662, and small as it is forms one 
 of the corner-stones of the angler's library. It is marked by a 
 soldierly sententiousness of expression, but contains nothing 
 novel or of marked interest The second edition was destroyed 
 by the great fire, and the fourth has the honour of forming 
 the tiiird part of The Universal Angler (5th \\'alton & Cotton, 
 1670). A fine copy of this with all the titles is rarer than any 
 of the Waltons except tiie first and second. 
 
 Walton himself wrote an elegant, though somewliat self- 
 depreciatory, preface to the first edition of J'enabtes, addressed 
 to liis ' ingenious friend the author,' whom he says he iiad not 
 up to tliat time seen. 
 
 It is not at all improbable, however, that these two veterans 
 later in life may have wandered together along tlie primrose- 
 studded banks of their favourite streams, and exchanged remin- 
 iscences of mighty exploits with rod and line to their mutual 
 satisfactit)n. It is a supreme delight for strangers with connnon 
 
 ) 
 
 i 
 
 % 
 
^9 
 
 348 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 tastes to have a chance of trying the effect of their tales in an 
 
 entirely virgin field, with no necessity of straining the mind to 
 
 recollect jnst how every detail came in at previons recountals. 
 
 and a is possible that even the worthy Izaak and the valiant 
 
 Colonel may have been susceptible to these amiable and venial 
 
 frailties, which are wrongfully supposed to be especial attributes 
 
 «>f piscatory narrations. 
 
 In 1076 was published William CJilbert's little book 
 
 called 
 
 'Tlie Angler's Deliglit, containing tlie wliole Art of neat and clean 
 Angling, wherein is taught the readiest way to take all sorts of 
 Fish from the Pike to the Minnow,' etc. etc. 
 
 Another early edition of this appeared in 1682, under the 
 title of The Young Anglers Companion, etc. etc. Both are 
 considered important. 
 
 Mr. Gilbert was at one with most of the angling craft in his 
 views as to the * 'vivers ' necessary for properly planned excur- 
 sions. He says : ' If you have a boy to go along with you, a 
 good Neat's tongue and a bottle of Canary should not be 
 wanting, in the enjoyment of which I leave you.' 
 
 The Innocent Epicure, a rather meritorious angling poem 
 (1697), was probably written by .John Smith, who also published 
 in 1684 Profit and Pleasure United, or the Husbandman's Maga- 
 zine, and over the signature of 'J. S., gent, a brother of the 
 angle,' 1696, 
 
 ' The true Art of Angling, or the Hcst and Speediest way of taking all 
 sorts of Fresli Water Fish with the Worm, Fly, Paste, and other 
 Haits in their proper season,' etc. etc. 
 
 The last-named volume is very minute, and forms a marked 
 feature in angling collections from its rarity, as well as 
 
 Mi 
 
AN(;LING LITKUATnilv 
 
 249 
 
 from its merits as a manual. Tliis merit was fully recoj;- 
 iiised by the author, who says in his * Prefatory Address 
 to the Lovers of Angliii};': 'Though you see this Book 
 l)ut small, yet think not the matter is so it contains, for 
 ui)«)n my Word, Brother Angler, you will find in it more 
 than you are aware of, or could reasonably expect. It is 
 stored with such variety of choice Instructions, that I am 
 bold to say that there are none of what N'olmne soever 
 that in a direct and easie metliod can show you anytliing 
 like it. It comprehends whatever tliey pretend to, and many 
 secrets that never before ajipeared in Print '-and so on for 
 several pages, concluding with a truthful and lengthy eulogium 
 on the recreation of angling. 
 
 Richard Franck (I'iiilanthropus) publisiied in 1094 his 
 Xorthcrn Memoirs, cukulntcd for the Meridian of Scothnul. 
 etc. Tiie book is a specimen of pretentious egotism, withal 
 evidently the work of a man who was familiar with angling 
 from personal experience. His attacks on Walton, whom he 
 apparently looks at from the standpoint of a rival instructor, 
 are very bitter— and amusing as well. Copies of the first edition 
 are very rare, and those of the second by no means connnon. 
 This second edition was of 250 copies, and printed in 1821, 
 with a preface by Sir Walter Scott, who signs himself 
 
 ' No fisher. 
 But a wfll-wisher 
 To the {fame.' 
 
 A number of angling works ajjpeared about the beginning 
 «)f the eighteenth century ; but most of them, except tiiose I 
 have mentioned, were mere rehashes of their predecessors. One 
 honourable exception is The Atifflcr's Vude Meenni, or a Coiii- 
 
 2 I 
 
 - ■KMl'SP'^^M 
 
 ittmttamt 
 
 ^SBB 
 
 ^Mi 
 
250 
 
 l'ISIIIN(i IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 pciulioHS net Full Discourse of Angling, etc. (ICHl), by .Fumes 
 Clietliam (of SmecUey). Tliis work is by no means a manual 
 like most of tiiut day, but, while containing nuicii that had 
 before appeared, has a larye amount of purely original matter 
 and thought. 
 
 Among the books of that time now best known are A 
 Faviilji Jercel, or the Woman's Counsellor {circa 1704), Tlie 
 Complete Famihj Piece, and Country Gentleman and Farmer's 
 Best Guide (1737), and the works of the IJ»)wlkers (Richard 
 and Charles), Thomas Fairfax, .John Kirby, Hest, and others. 
 Most of these are good books, and have j)assed through several 
 editions. James Saunders, in the Compleat Fisherman (\12^), 
 for the first time mentions the use of the silk-worm gut in 
 angling, which fixes very nearly the date of its discovery. 
 
 Many of these early books with angling |)ortions contain 
 much of value on the manners and customs of the times, treat- 
 ing, as they often do with great minuteness, on agriculture, 
 stock-raising, the care of beasts and birds bred for sporting as 
 well as other purposes, bell-ringing, heraldry, preserving, pick- 
 ling, cooking, and in fact all the duties and amusements of the 
 age. This fashion of encyclopicdic publications continued for 
 a century, and as a sample of their scope I give the title of one 
 of the later ones — 
 
 il w 
 
 ' The Gentleiiiairs Recreation, in Three Parts. The First Fiirt contains a 
 isliort and Ea-sie Introduction to all tiie Liberal Arts anil Sciences, 
 etc. The Second treats of IIorseiuansiii|), Ilawkin;^, Hunting. 
 Fowlinj;, Fi.shiny, Ajrriculture, etc. The 'I'liird is a Complete Bodv 
 of all our Forest, Chace, and Game I^iws as they are at this time.' 
 
 The book is a folio of about GOO pages, and there were two 
 editions, 1C8G and 1710. Richard Blome, the author, neglected 
 
ANC.LING LITKUATrilK. 251 
 
 iiotliing tliat could be done by coiupilatioii ; Hhetoric, Theology, 
 Cosmography. Algebra, Fortification. Poetry, War, all contri- 
 bute to the heterogeneous contents. Such diversity and 
 wide range of subjects was necessary in a time when books 
 were scarce and expensive, and most people preferred to have 
 as much information in one volume as would suffice for such 
 guidance as they needed in all the avocations of country life. 
 
 A division of angling literature into periods must at 
 best be arbitrary ; and for the somewhat unnecessary pur- 
 ])ose of having one, it woidd seem that the division be- 
 tween old and modern may quite as well be marked by the 
 beginning of tiie eighteenth century as at any other time. 
 
 Before that date the declining years of the angler would be 
 soothed by the perusal of his small collection of books on his 
 favourite amusement,— and they gave him far more to think 
 about than double the number of those written since. Oppian, 
 Martial, .Elian, Uondeletius and Ausonius were there, with 
 l)u IJartas, and the new ^Valton, still somewhat tinged with 
 ancient superstition. 
 
 On the border of some classic sea or nymph-haunted 
 stream, tar from the ' fumum et opes strepitumque Roma',' their 
 owner, in his fancy--that essential attribute of the angler's 
 character— could defraud the active Scarus with some archaic 
 fiy ; with the labrax-baited hook land the • Anthia, with lash- 
 iiM' tail'; drop a tear over the sad end of the virtuous 
 Cantharus which he knocks on the head ere basketing, and 
 witness the accomplished Scolopendra turn his insides out when 
 hooked. His successor of the present day is, by tlie rule of 
 hard facts, debarred from these solaces of the evening of his 
 life. The literature of angling for the last hundred years 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 g|ggg||^|g|g|g^g^|^gg^^^gmn 
 
 y 
 
r 
 
 Uoil lis II I N(; IN CANADIAN W A THUS. 
 
 has been steadily growing away from the dcliglitful uiul 
 harmless superstitions of the older time, and siuh is the 
 prosuic influence of the nineteenth century that it is now 
 hard to imagine even the possibility of hauling out some fish 
 that will occu])y his last moments in making an elegant 
 address filled with classic* allusions. 
 
 The pleasing and exciting uncertainty which every ancient 
 angler felt as to the capture, for instance, of a Sargus engaged 
 in unlawful pleasure, or any one of the various marine mon- 
 sters dej)icted in Ilortiis Sanitatis and other early works, is 
 now all gone, and the only Held left for the imagination of 
 angling writers is in the narration of size and (juantity of 
 ordinary iciithyological types accepted by the cold light of 
 science. (Jenerally, to its credit, the literature has withstood 
 the heavy loss of material, and manufactured out of the com- 
 paratively small renmant tales enough to keep the relative 
 popular appreciation of anglers' stories as high as it was cen- 
 turies ago. 
 
 The discovery of the use of silk- worm gut about 1721. 
 may easily liave been due to the growth of angling as an 
 amusement, and the increasing suspiciousness that it induced 
 among sporting fish. This wariness would force anglers to look 
 about for something less plaiidy visible than the clumsy lines 
 of the day to attach tl. My to, and more durable and manage- 
 able than the horse-hair links which were then, and indeed 
 long after, used. 
 
 This and other improvements in the methods of tak- 
 ing fish for amusement encouraged tiie practice of fly-fishing, 
 and soon gave it an importance beyond those of other 
 methods. 
 
AN(;i,IN(J MTKllATIUK. 
 
 ur>ii 
 
 I will tlieiffore pass over without fiirtlier mention- -thouj,'li 
 worthy of it— Hrowiic, Cox, Hrookes, liliif^rave. Sir .lohn 
 More, and otiiers, and give a sketch of tiie aiighng literature 
 on the modern side of my arbitrary line of chronol«)gital 
 division. 
 
 John (Jay, the |)«)et, wrote a (leorgic on ' Hiind Sports" 
 wliicli was published in 17'20, and I (juote from it part of 
 his animated description of the capture of a large trout in 
 the Thames : 
 
 •Lost ill sniii,.' ;,ain, he feels his dire niistiikc, 
 l.ashf; tilt wives, and heats the foamy I'lke. 
 With Mldcii rix'fc he no"- iloft ajipears, 
 Am. '■> his eye eonvui-.vc aiif^iiisii bears. 
 .\iid now aj;a;n. impatient of llie wound. 
 He rolls iiul r;*hes his straining body roiiiid. 
 Then JK-adloiij; shoots beneath the dashing tide — 
 The fri-iMbliii;j fins the Ixiilin^ waves divide. 
 Now hope exults the fisher's beating heart, — 
 Now he turns pale, and tears his dubious art. 
 He views the treinbliii!!- fish with loiijrimr c-yes. 
 While the line stretelus with th' unwieldy |)ri/.e ; 
 l''aeh motion humours with his steady hands, 
 And the slight line the iiiij{hty bulk eominands 
 Till, tired at last, despoiled of .ill his streiifrth. 
 The game athwart the stream unfolds his length,' ele. 
 
 Thomson, in his Scn.sofi.t, 1728, thus shows his apprecia- 
 tion as well as his knowledge of the art of angling — 
 
 ' .lust in tile dubious point where with the |iool 
 Is mixed the trembling stream, or where it boils 
 Around the sttmc, or from the hollow'd bank 
 Keverted plays in undulated flow. 
 There throw, iiiee jutlging, the delusive fly, 
 And as you lead it round in artful eiirve. 
 With eye attentive, mark the springing game.' 
 
 1 1 
 
 1 
 
 gn^ 
 
 mtm 
 
 mtm 
 
 J 
 
' 
 
 2.J4 
 
 riSIIING IN CANADIAN 'VATEUS. 
 
 and so on, in beautiful numbers, describing the capture of 
 tlie ' .Monarch of the brook.' 
 
 XN'illianison's British Auglcr, 1740, gives another indication 
 of the growing interest in fly-fishing in this rhymed account 
 of sahnon angUng (I tliink it is the first) — 
 
 ' The salmon first of river fisli is niiin'd, 
 Loved at his Sport, but more at Table fam'd : 
 Well are the ])atieiit Aiifrler's I'aiiis repaid 
 When the fair Leader is his Captive made. 
 Oft jHirlinjjf Urooks, but oft'iier {greater Streams 
 He hannts, and basks in I'hoehiis' Mid-day Heams : 
 Then Cautious tempt him, and he '11 nimbly rise — • 
 Be stronff your Tackle, or you lose the Prize : 
 Larjfe be your Fly too, with expanded Wings 
 Of" various Hues — at this he boldly springs. 
 Yet curling Hillows should assist the Cheat, 
 (^uick-sighted else, he shuns the fatal Hait.' 
 
 The first anghng book of importance of tlie nineteentii 
 <entin-y is Daniel's linral Sports, 2 vols. 4to. 1801. It passed 
 through several beautifully illustrated editions, and is a very valu- 
 al)ie work, although \Vestwood and Satchell think ' it savours 
 too much of book-making." It is interspersed witii anecdotes, 
 and a large })ortion of the whole is devoted to angling. Mr. 
 Daniel was a clergyman, and this vocation has contributed 
 more than any other to angling literature. 
 
 T. V. Salter, in 1808, published Hints to Jiif>lcrs, a tract 
 of i;3 pp., and followed it in 1814 by The Aiifrler's Guide, or 
 Complete Loudon Anji>ler, etc. etc. Mr. Salter says, 'I write 
 from practice, not from books arrange,' and it nmst be bv 
 reason of this, or for some other subtle cause, that the English 
 publishers kept j)utting out new editions until the collector 
 is tired and sick of the siglit of them. They fortunately ceased 
 ill 1841. 
 
 . 
 
 K" 
 
ANGLING LITER ATUllK. 
 
 255 
 
 ' Siilinoniii, or Days of riy-fisliin<,', in a Series of Coiiversjitions ; with 
 some Amniiit of the Hiihits of Fishes beliiiiginj; to the Genus 
 Siilino, by an Angler,' 
 
 appeared in 1828, and was the first publication on angling by 
 an eminent scientific man (Sir Humphry Davy). Tlie liiblio- 
 thcca Piscatoria says: ' Salmonin ranks high in the scale of 
 angling literature, higher we should say (if it were not for 
 the audacity of the dictum) than it really merits. It lacks 
 the freshness of heart and simple ?ia'ivcte of style tluit we look 
 for first of all in a genuine angling book.' Christopher Nortli 
 says of it in liUichxcood , 'Although it is occasionally rather 
 a pleasant book than otherwise, it is not by any means worthy 
 eitlier of the subject or the man— the one being Angling, 
 and the otlier Sir Humphry Davy.' An excellent review of 
 Salmoiiia, by Sir Walter Scott, was printed in the Qiiartcrli/ 
 Itcvieii' in 18*28. Despite the unfavourable criticisms made, 
 it is a popular book, and nuich read up to tlie i)resent day. 
 Edward Jesse, in 1832, ])ublished 
 
 'Gleanings in Natural History, with Loeal Recollections, to whidi are 
 added Maxisrs and Hints for an Angler." 
 
 An Anglers Rambles followed in 183G, and Scenes and Oeen- 
 pations of Countn/ Life in 1853. This charming writer is 
 the author of several books on otiier than angling subjects, 
 all of wluch arc well worth a |)lacc in the lil)rary. 
 
 In 1833 Hiciiard reim, a great-grandson of William Tcnn. 
 published one of the most amusing of angling books, 
 
 'Maxims and Hints on Angling, Cjiess, Shooting, and otlier Matters : 
 also Miseries of Tishing.'' 
 
 m 
 
' 
 
 15G 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 It is illustrated with well-drawn comic woodcuts, and much 
 sound information is conveyed in a satirical manner. ISIost 
 of the thirty-two ' miseries of fishing ' have been felt by all 
 anglers of experience in just the way they are narrated. 
 The book has passed through several editions in England 
 and this country, and may be considered one of the standard 
 works. 
 
 In 1841 T/ic Fly Fishers Text Book was published. It 
 was written by Edward Chitty, Barrister-at-Law, over the 
 pseudonym of 'Theophilus South, Gent,' and is one of the 
 very best of angling books. Its style is concise, clear, and 
 elegant, and it is excellently illustrated. The diagratns on 
 casting, and their explanation, are particularly worthy of study. 
 
 The ft)llowing year (1842) ajjpeared The Collected Works 
 of Christopher Xorth (Professor John Wilson), which contain 
 many articles especially on angling, and others with reference 
 to it. These essays are, in interest, not at all below those of 
 the great j)rofessor on other subjects ; and indeed the fasci- 
 nations of angling, and the close intercourse with nature it 
 brings, seem to have taken so deep a hold on him that in 
 their expression he gives a clearer view of the real man as 
 he was than in any other topic he has illumined by his 
 vigorous pen. 
 
 'The Angler's Tent,' and 'The Nameless Stream,' in his 
 jjoems of an earlier date, are graceful and admirable. 
 
 .1. J. Manley, in his Xotes on Fish aiuf Fishing, has a 
 most interesting and scholarly chapter, among a number of 
 others in the book, on the literature of fishing, to which, with 
 the Bibliotheca Piseatoria, I am under obligation in the making 
 up of my own chapter. Mr. Manlcy says, and with truth, that 
 
 U.V 
 
ANdLING MTKUATrUK. 
 
 257 
 
 'in 1835 we come to anotlier era, the modern era of anglinj; 
 literature.' This has been gradually improving, on the whole, 
 up to the present day, and is occupying more and more the 
 leisure of men who have made their mark in other walks 
 of life. 
 
 It was in 183G that Thomas Tod Stoddart published Tin- 
 Art of AtiffUng as practised in Scntlaud ; in 1837, Angling 
 Rcminisccmrs ; in 1839, Soiifis and Poems; in 1847, The 
 Anglers Companion to the Rivers and Lochs of Scotland ; in 
 18GG, An Anglers Rambles and Angling Songs. I have 
 specified all these books, as, in my opinion, they are at about 
 the high-water mark of angling literature, written by a man 
 who knew his subject, and who coidd express himself so as to 
 bring out its most subtle charms. 
 
 What can be more spirited or true to life than 'The Taking 
 of the Salmon' in An Anglers Rambles and Angling Songs, 
 which I would here give entire, instead of a single verse, were 
 I not svu-e that every one who takes the trouble to read this 
 chapter is perfectly familiar with it — 
 
 ' " A birr," a whirr, — the sahnoii's out 
 Far on the rusliin)» river. 
 He storms the stream with edfje of might, 
 And, tike a brandislied sword of light, 
 Rolls Hashing o'er the surges white, 
 A desperate endeavour. 
 Hark to the music of the reel. 
 The fitful and the grating. 
 It pants along the breathless wheel. 
 Now hurried, now abating.' 
 
 There are a few books which every angler should have on 
 his shelves to read, )iot to look at and worry over and bore 
 his frieiuls by talking about, and Stoddart's are among then. 
 
 •2 K 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 mggm 
 
 y 
 
"1* 
 
 I 
 
 yo8 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 Aiiotlier coiiteniporary ami countryinan of Stoildart, ami of 
 e»|iial merit, is .Folin Col(|ulioiin, wliose first book. The Moor 
 mid the Lovh, was published in 1840. This ])assed througii five 
 editions, and was followed in 1849 by Roehs and Jiivers, and in 
 18(56 by Sport in fr J)ai/,s. 
 
 Of him the Biljfiothecn Piscdtoria says : 'All Mr. Col- 
 (|uhoim's books are jjervaded with that love for wild nature 
 and stronjf sense of humanity to the creatures inhabiting it 
 which characterise the true sportsman.' 
 
 More than this, iiis narrative is sim))lc. straightforward, and 
 free from every taint of that affectation whicli is the great bane 
 of sporting books written by men who arc not sfjortsmen, and 
 which sliows itself to the discerning eye in many little points 
 wiiere i)erhai)s tiie authors would never suspect it. 
 
 HoHand's liritish Anglers Manu(d, 18.'{n. is more than its 
 title would indicate, judging from the contents of tiie many 
 manuals ])rcceding and following it It is a rather large book, 
 well written and well illustrated, partly by the author, who 
 was also an artist. 
 
 I now come to one of the choicest volumes in text, illustra- 
 tion, and rarity, that adorns angling literature. It is — 
 
 V \ 
 
 Dfivs iiiul Niirlits of Siilnioii rishinjr in tlie Twfi'd, witli a Sliort 
 Account of the Niitural History and Haliits of tlio Salmon, Instnit- 
 tioiis to Sport.sniin, Aiu'idoti's, I'tc, by William Sito|>l>, I'lsci.. 
 author of "TIr' Art of Dcur-Stalkin-;-." 
 
 " Rura milii, et riyiii placcant in vallibiis amncs." 
 
 — V'iKGll,, t7co>x., lib. 2. 
 
 Illustrated by thirtoi'ii lithofjraphs and nine wood i'ni>ravin"-s liv 
 I,. IIa<j;lK', T. Landsivr, and S. Williams, from |)aintinf,'s by Sir 
 David Wilkie and Kdwin Landsccr, H.A., Charles Landseer, 
 \Villiani Simson, and Ivlward Cooke. London : .Murray, 1843. 
 Uoyul 8vo. 
 
 t • 
 
ANGLING LITE RATI' UK. 
 
 259 
 
 I doubt if any volume on iuij>,liiiff. since the Pickering 
 Walton of 18.'3G, combines literary excellencies with those of 
 print and illustration in anythinjf like the same deforce with 
 this work. The interest of tiie bt)ok is sufficient to make it 
 one of the very best of its class, imbued as it is with the sjjirit 
 of the romantic Tweed. The illustrations, as may be judged 
 from the names of those who contributed them, are beautiful ; 
 an»ong them the coloured litho{>rai)hs of young salmon being, in 
 drawing and the cxcjuisite reproduction of natural colouring, 
 simply ))erfect. 
 
 No owner of a first Scrojjc will ever willingly part with it. 
 and it is one of the hardest modern books to get. ^V second 
 edition, much inferior to the first, was published in 18.54, and I 
 have seen a third within a year or two. 
 
 O'CJorman jjublisiied in 184.5 The Practice of Auf^UufX, par- 
 ticiilarli/ as ir^artls- Ireland, a curious and annising work, as 
 characteristically Irish in thought, feeling, and expression, as any 
 native of that noble countrj- could desire. 
 
 Eighteen hundred and forty-seven marked the appearance of 
 several writers of distinction in the de|)artment of angling. The 
 first was the Rev. Dr. Hcthune of Brooklyn, New York, a dis- 
 tinguished clergyman, a skilful angler, and the auth«)r of by far 
 the best bibliographical preface that has appeared with any 
 edition of Walton. The jewel had a very poor setting in tiic 
 Wiley and Putnam edition of 1847, probably, with the excejjtion 
 of two or three subsecjuent ones of the same publisliers, the 
 meanest and shabbiest presentation of Walton ever made. 
 However, the Wileys have in some measure atoned for their 
 sins by their edition of 1880, which is one of the handsomest in 
 existence. 
 
 asfflBi 
 
 ^ 
 
ri SUING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 \ 
 
 Dr. Hetliime's part is imicli more tluin a mere preface. It 
 lias matter enough to form a good-sized volume, and treats of 
 fisli, fishing, and fishing hterature in a learned, a])preciative, and 
 interesting maimer. It ought long since to have been printed 
 by itself". 
 
 The industrious and entertaining 'Ephemera' (Edward Fitz- 
 gibboii) also first api)eared as a book-maker this year in his 
 Handbook of Aii^Ung, which has since passed through fom- 
 editions. Three years later his liook of the Salmon was pub- 
 lished. IJoth are intelligently written and valuable works. 
 • Ephemera ' also edited no fewer than five editions of Walton. 
 
 There was published for Mr. Charles St. .John, in 1847, 
 Short Sketches of the idid sports and natural history of the 
 H'lddands. In 1849 A Tour in Sutherlandshire, and in 1863 
 Xatural Ilistori/ and Sport in Mora//. 
 
 All of these, which are largely devoted to angling, aflbrd 
 the most delightful and instructive reading ; and, as a combina- 
 tion of the sportsman and naturalist, with an eye in his head 
 to note hundreds of matters of interest to which the ordinary 
 observer is blind, St. .John, though not so well known, mainly 
 from the fact of his secluded life, occu])ies a ))lace alongside of 
 Frank Huckland in the estimation of those who have followed 
 liis wanderings by torrent, hill, and moor, and observed his 
 thorouo'h knowledsrc of the wild creatures he met, and the keen 
 insitiht he had into their habits and even their thoughts. 
 
 A new edition of his last book, Xatural Jlistori/ and Sport 
 in Mora;/, was edited and jjublished by Mr. David Douglas, 
 Edinburgh, 1882, and is in its dress worthy of its charming 
 author. The illustrations, by Mr. Ueid and Mr. Taylor, are 
 -excellent, but vield in interest to tiie remarkably life-like and 
 
 tm 
 
 mat 
 
ANGLING LITEUATrilF,. ^61 
 
 vijrorous pen-aiul-iiik sketches of Mr. St. John himself. Tliese 
 luive, witii jfieiit good jutlgineiit, been reprocUicetl just as they 
 were found among the author's papers, and go hu-gely to make 
 the vohmie one of tlie choicest puhlici tions of its kind. 
 
 In 1851 another delightful angling book ap])eared, written 
 by the Rev. Henry Xewland, entitled The Erne, ifs 
 Legends and its Flij-Jishln^. It shows a keen appre- 
 ciation and knowledge of the sjjort, and also of the 
 character and habits of the Irish, whose comjjany he en- 
 joyed in his various excursions to his favourite river. There 
 are many interesting details of his angling experiences. The 
 book has now become rather rare. It is noticeable that this 
 period of angling literature shows that men of broader cul- 
 ture and more varied information were giving their attention 
 to it. It is not the mere angler who may be skilful at the 
 sport itself and can give directions that will suffice for taking 
 tisli, but the educated naturalist, clergyman, lawyer, or man of 
 science, whose well-trained mind sees and notes incidents of 
 the habits and history of the fish sought, and facts of their 
 dependence or surroundings, which the Barkers, Williamsons. 
 Salters, and Bests never dreamed of. In fact, all the angling 
 books since 1835 or 1840 that are in themselves of more than 
 passing interest have been written by men who look at the 
 amusement tpiite as much from the standpoint of the naturalist 
 as that of the angler ; and to these, more than to the purely 
 scientific authors who have pursued their investigations in 
 houses and nmseums, is due tiie greater part of what is now 
 known about anadromous and fresh-water fishes. 
 
 No man who was not a sportsman could have written 
 the charming volumes of Mr. Auckland; and it would have 
 
 ■jMhiH 
 
FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 been impossible for any mere closet naturalists to have ascer- 
 tained the lialt" that he and Mr. Cholmondeley-l'einiell have 
 done reffarding the habits of the salmon. The latter has 
 contributed as much as any living man to the enrichment 
 of fishing literature on its practical side, and each of his 
 succeeding books shows new accessions to the mass of his 
 ichthyt)l<>gical information. 
 
 In the fishing part of the lately ])ublished Ii<i(lmiiit(»i 
 Library of Sjxjrtx, edited by Mr. I'ennell, he has some 
 excellent ))apers, and has secured for it, from the |)en of 
 Major Traherne, the best and most exhaustive essay on 
 salmon-fishing that has ever been written. 
 
 JNIr. Francis Francis is another of the contemporaneous 
 authors of the new tyy>c, and has published, besides his capital 
 text-book — 
 
 ' A Hook oil AiiftliiifT ; lu'iiijj; ii C'onipli'tc Tivatisc on tlie Art of Anjj;lii)i;' 
 in every Itnincli, with Kxplaimtory Pliites, 18(57,' 
 
 a lunviber of well-written and entertaining volumes on, ami 
 akin to, the sport. Perhaps the best of these is Sporting 
 Sketches -idt/i Pen and Pencil, 1878, which is well illustrated 
 by Mr. A. ^V. Cooper. AW the writings of Mr. Francis show 
 much practical knowledge of his subject, due to his interest 
 and wide experience in it.' 
 
 I see that I have missed another clergyman, the Kev. 
 Charles IJadham, who ])ublished, in 1854, Prose Halicntics, or 
 Ancient and jSLodern Fish Tattle, v ratiicr learned work, which 
 has had an extensive circulation. Still another of the cloth 
 
 ' Since this was written, in December iS86, the intelligence of Mr. Francis' dc.itli 
 has brought a feeling of loss to every reader of his books. 
 
 
ANGLING LITKRATrUK. 
 
 263 
 
 is 'Clcrifiis' (Hcv. W. Ciirtwriglit), wlio published in 1854. 
 Rambles and Ilcco/hrtions of a Fl ij-fi. slier ; and in 1874 Fuels 
 and Faneies of Salmon- Fishing:;, with <)ri<>inal ilhistrations. 
 Both of these are well wcirth reading, and are evidently the 
 work of a man thoroughly posted on his subject, and tilled 
 with a love of his fellow-creatures, of nature, and of s])ort. 
 
 To a member of a kindred profession we owe a delight- 
 fully interesting book, VN'illiam I'eard's — 
 
 ' A Year of Liberty : or Siilnion Angliiifj; in Irulaiul from Febrimry 1 
 to Noveniher 1, 18(J5 ;' 
 
 and G. Christopher Davies, who edited the 1877 edition of The 
 Angler's Souvenir and the AV'.rne cV Co. 'Walton' of 1878, 
 has written a luunber of volumes on angling and natural 
 history, which are both entertaining and instructive. Of these 
 
 'The "Swan" and her Crew: or the Adventures of Three Yoimfj 
 Naturalists and Sportsmen on tiie Hroails anil Hivers ot" N()rf'oli<,' 
 
 may serve as a sample title. 
 
 The Xerceastle Fisliers Garland I have left to bring in 
 with them their latest collator, Mr. Joseph Crawiiall. These 
 were first brought together in 183(J under the title of ^/ 
 Colleelion of liigiit Merrie Garlands for Xortli Coiintrij 
 Anglers. They have been published — generally every year — 
 at Newcastle from 1821 to 18(54, the last dale being that 
 of Mr. Crawhall's edition. 
 
 They are altogether the best existing collection of angling 
 songs, and many of them are of a iiigli order of literary merit. 
 Most of the original publications were limited in the nundier 
 of tiieir copies, and a complete set of tiie firsts is valuable ; 
 the more so, from their containing some of the handiwork of 
 
 am 
 
1' 
 
 I^Hl 
 
 2()4 
 
 riSIIINtJ IN CANADIAN WATEHS. 
 
 the immortal Ikwick, wlio, by the way, was an aiij^ler himself, 
 uiul treats enough on the subject in his Memoir, 1802,' to 
 warrant his being classed among writers on angling. 
 
 ' The Angler's Progress,' by Merman Uoaz, a conjuror, 1789, 
 is the first of" the Giirluiuls. Why it should be is hard to say, 
 unless it gave the idea for the rest. It has small merit, as may 
 be judged from the first lines : — 
 
 ' Wlieii I was a mere scliool-lxiy 
 (Ere yet I learned my book) 
 1 felt nn iteh for angling 
 In every little brook.' 
 
 Of the earlier composers of these ballads, the memories of 
 Hoxby and Doubleday have been the best preserved. The 
 Garland for 1821 is the joint production of these gentlemen, 
 and begins thus : — 
 
 ' Auld nature now revived seems, 
 Cauld winter's blasts are fled, 
 And freely flow the sininy streams 
 O'er C'o(|iiet's ))ebbly bed. 
 The mellow thrush from Dews-hill wood 
 Proelaims the dawn of day, 
 And to the C'o<iuet's cryrtal Hood 
 The tisher wends his way.' 
 
 'The Aidd Fisher's Farewell to Coquet,' by the same 
 authors, is especially full of poetic feeling and simplicity of 
 expression. The coming of Sj)ring and the angler's holiday arc 
 well described in ' The Fisher's Call ' in the Garland for 
 1828:- 
 
 ' The lav'rock 's in the sky. 
 And on the heath the plover. 
 The bee uj)on the thyme, 
 The swallow skimming over ; 
 
 ' This, of course, was published posthumously, as Bewick died in 1828, and is tlic 
 first and only edition. 
 
 "■* i1Wl*i?'--i'-' 
 
ANGLING MTKUATrUF.. 
 
 863 
 
 Till' fanner walks tlic field, 
 'I'lie seed he 's casting steady ; 
 The breeze is hlowiiij; west — 
 Be ready, fishers, ready ! ' 
 
 William Thompson, Robert Xifol, Rev. Henry Cotes. 
 Emerson Charnlcy, and ^Villiam Circcne, are amonj^ the early 
 contributors to the Gnrlamh, and none of them sink to the 
 level of mediocrity in their verses. 3Ir. ^^^ A. Chatto, who 
 wrote the clever ' iVnglcr's Souvenir,' is the author of several 
 spirited Garlands. JNIr. Thomas Westwood furnished that of 
 
 1803, 'The laying Angler's Last Look at Coijuet,' and Mr. 
 Joseph Crawhall's name is ap])ended to several since 1853. 
 
 The nimnerous local allusions in these ballads detract from 
 their general, though they probably add to their special, interest. 
 WitliAl, they are pleasant healthy reading for any lover of 
 angling. 
 
 JMr. Joseph Crawhall edited the collected Garlands up to 
 
 1804, and issued of them fifty large-paper copies, beauti- 
 fully prepared and illustrated, which, like all his books, are 
 among the great desiderata of the angling collector. 
 
 Mr. Crawhall may be called the Admirable Crichton of this 
 literature— a writer of prose and poetry, an illustrator of the 
 first order in his own productions and those he gathers 
 together, and a maker of books full of the quaintest con- 
 ceits and unexpected finds and combinations. 
 
 Besides the A\'iccastlc Fishers Garlands above mentioned 
 
 he published (1873) Chaplcts from Coqnct-Side, one hundred 
 
 copies, the text consisting largely of his contributions to the 
 
 Garlands. In 1859 appeared 
 
 ' The Conij)leatest Angling Hooke tlmt euer wiis writ, being done oiite of 
 y" Hebrewe and other Tongves, by a Person of Honor, Adorn'il 
 
 2 L 
 
«6 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATF.US, 
 
 with Scvlptvri'H ; Iniprynted l)y niulf fiir y* Authonr tlwyllynj? ni^li 
 viito yu Iliufre ('(i(|uet yit N()rtluiiiil>urliuuli>, thin yi-re o' tliyiicar- 
 iiocoii ot'uure Lortli* ci.i.i.X'cc.xxxw.viii, 
 
 Forty copies of tliis were printed, all of which, us the author 
 says ill his preface to a second edition in 1881, were ' offered on 
 the insatiate altar of friendship,' and, as may be imagined from 
 their small number and this disposition of them, are very hard 
 to get. There are ninety-seven leaves, each printed on one side ; 
 the illustrations consist of numerous etchings, wt)odcuts, and 
 some hand-cohnired plates, nearly all done by Mr. Crawhall, 
 and, with rare exceptions, admirable. The general scope of 
 the book, though various incursions to other fields are made, 
 is a humorous bibliography of some of the older angling 
 works. A copy, if attainable, would readily fetch 1,50 to 200 
 dollars. 
 
 The second edition numbered one hundred copies, was 
 published in 1881, and is a much finer specimen of book- 
 making than the first. Many new illustrations are added, 
 several of them being excpiisite etchings, and there is a 
 marked improvement in the pa])er and print. 
 
 In 1880 Mr. Crawhall published Border Xofcs and Mixty 
 Majcty. This reproduction of the manuscript is capitally 
 illustrated, — some of the pen-and-ink sketches being particu- 
 larly life-like and vigorous. The book is, as its title 
 indicates, a mixture of versification, huiriorous descriptions, 
 and tales, with the same archaic flavour which marks all 
 Mr. Crawhall's production.. 
 
 In 1885 Mr. Crawhall again appeared before the public with 
 Izaak Walton: his Wallet liooke. Of this there are 100 
 large-paper copies, besides the ordinary edition. It is hand- 
 
 ^■^^"■*^" 
 
ANGLING LITE It ATI 111',. 867 
 
 soinely published by Field i^c Tuer, and illustrated with quaint 
 loloured woodcuts in the anti(|ue style. Tlioujjh, like every- 
 tliinj^ of Mr. C'rawhall's, a desirable possession, it is below 
 the standard of his other w«)rks in original merit. 
 
 One of the most charming of recent books is Mij Life as 
 (ui Atifrlvr, 1H71), by William Henderson, who, in his declininj>' 
 years, has j^iven us a large volume, but still too small, of his 
 life-h)ng experiences in the sport he loved. It is an autobio- 
 graphy with all the tminteresting ])arts left out; and 1 
 have seen a man who never went fishing in his life read it 
 through with the intensest interest, — n«)t, as he said, to find 
 how many miserable fish Mr. Henderson had outwitted, but 
 for the pleasure his simple, flowing narrative gave. There 
 was a large-paper edition of this, handsomely printed and 
 illustrated. 
 
 Mr. .1. .J. Alanley's Xotcs on Fish ami Fishing, 1877, I have 
 before alluded to. It is the work of an angler and a scholar who 
 has made a study of fishing literature, and writes with a mastery 
 of his subject, and its expression, that makes his book one to 
 be read and re-read. The chajiters on 'the literature of fishing' 
 and 'fishing as a sjjort,' are particularly good. The interest 
 and growing knowledge about angling books in his day is well 
 indicated by Mr. Mauley's statement on p. 70, where he says. 
 'There are in existence something like six hundred books on 
 angling.' This information Mr. Manley probably got from 
 Mr. Westwood's Xitc Bibliothccn Piscatoria, 18G1. Owing, 
 principally, to the indefatigable and intelligent researches of 
 Messrs. Westwood and Satchell, since that date the mnnber 
 of known works has greatly increased, and the Uihliothcca 
 Piscatoria, published in 1883 by these enthusiasts on angling 
 
FISHING IN CANADIAN WATKUS. 
 
 ' V 
 
 literature, contains titles of 2148 distinct works, not count- 
 ing new editions and re])rints. 
 
 To Thomas Westwood and Tlionias Satcliell every angling 
 collector owes an obligation which can never be repaid. They 
 have, by infinite research and labour, got together from widely 
 scattered periods and countries a mass of information on this 
 literature that, but for them, we could hardly expect would ever 
 have been gathered and put in shape. ^Moreover, it has been a 
 pure labour of love, and, I fancy, like many such, generally a 
 thankless one. The work bestowed on the Bibliutlura Pisco- 
 toria is enormous, and could hardly have been done by any who 
 had not the ecpiipment for it that a lifetime devotion to a 
 subject gives to such as nature has qualified for the work. Mr. 
 Westwood has attained honourable distinction as a poet in 
 other fields of literature, and his liurdcu of the licll. Berries 
 and Blossoms, Foxglove Bells, The Quest of the Saue^recdl. 
 contain parts which will be classic in English poetry, and 
 show the man t») be, as the London Literarif Gazette says, * A 
 thoroughly Christian poet, without a vestige of bigotry or cant.' 
 All his verses are filled with an undertone t)f cheerful serious- 
 ness and a love of nature and mankind. Several of the AV'Ji- 
 eastle Fishers Garlands are from his pen, and The Chronicle 
 of the Complete ^tni>ler, 1804, is an invaluable bibliograj)liical 
 work on this pastoral. In 1884 he published 
 
 ' III Momoriiiin I/;ink Walton, ol)iit 15tli Deceiuher ICSii ; Twelve Sonnets 
 iiiiti an Kpilogiie.' 
 
 and no more beautiful tribute has been paid to the memorv 
 of Walttni. The dedication is to Mr. Thomas Satcliell, 
 and thus alludes to their imrewarded labours on the litera- 
 ture thev have done so much to rescue from oblivion — 
 
A N (i L 1 N G LI r I ; It A T \ ^ 11 1 ;. 
 
 '2m 
 
 ' Friend, ft'llow-workcr in a field where Fume 
 (irows scanty laiirels, resolute and (jay 
 Yim liore the heat and burden of the day. 
 Friend, did you miss me ? When the twilight came 
 ( stole away — forsook yon without shame ; 
 Slipped shoes of swiftness on, and flew to see 
 Kach home and haunt of old felieity — 
 The Lea, the Dove, the Fishing Mouse — what blame ? 
 E'en Tot'nam's Hill and Uroxbourne's bowery leas — 
 Lung ])ilgrimnge, long as from Age to Youth ; 
 Now glad, now sad, now ehanged, and now the same. 
 Those olurished seems of holiday and ease. 
 Friend, here am I ; and not to eonie, in sooth, 
 Quite empty-handed baek, 1 bring you these.' 
 
 Mr. Satfliell ' has, besides his <freut joint work with Mr. West- 
 wood, edited several reprints of the early works on angling, 
 among them that of Leonard Maseall and An Karlicr Form (if 
 the ' Tret use o/' Fij.ss/ii/nffe rcith an Angle,' and has written *A 
 Provisional Index to' Glossari/ of Fish Xaines, 1S7S), in all of 
 whieh there is a large amount of learned and ])ainstaking 
 labour. The Angler s Xote-bouh- and Xatnralisfs lieeord, by 
 Westwood and Satchell, was published in 1880, and a second 
 series in twelve monthly mnnbers is now in ])rogress. IJotli 
 «)f these series are repositories for the best of the current 
 literary observations on angling sidyects, and contain nnicli 
 cmioiis and erudite matter. 
 
 The contemplation of the fact tiiat these gentlemen camH>t 
 always live to continue tiieir philantlu-«)])ic labours is a sail 
 one to the many who liave |)roHted by them, as we can never 
 hope to see their places filled. 
 
 England, or more properly Great Britain, has fiu-nished so 
 overwhelming a jjroportion of existing angling literature, lliat 
 
 ' He died April i6, 1SS7, when the Ms. of this chapter, which he inspired, wa:, on 
 Its way to him. 
 
i:l 
 
 270 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 it seems hardly worth while to allude to that of any other 
 country. The existence in these islands for centuries of an 
 educated leisure class fond of sports, and having, on the whole, 
 the best natural facihties in the world for the practice of 
 angling, from the silvery Thames, I^ea, and Dove, to the brawl- 
 ing streams of the Welsh mountains, the rocky torrents and 
 lonely romantic lochs of Scotland — to the classic Tweed and 
 the wild fairy-haunted Erne and Lakes of Killarney in Ire- 
 land, is enough to account for the growth of an angling 
 literature. 
 
 The associations connected with a large portion of British 
 angling waters are of the history of the Anglo-Saxon people. 
 On their banks the great battles of civilisation and freedom have 
 been fought and their results garnered. Along their primrose- 
 studded slopes have strolled and thought the grea*^ scholars and 
 poets who have done more for the elevation of the race than its 
 warriors. The amusement they yield has been a favourite re- 
 creation of many whose names are immortal, and the knowledge 
 of all this is to lend to angling in such waters an ideal charm 
 and influence it coidd not have in a wild Canadian river or 
 Maine lake. Who would not rather take a single trout where 
 Walton has cast his fly, in the brooks which inspired Kingsley's 
 ' Chalk stream, studies,' or in the Tweed, still under the potent 
 spell of the great * Wizard of the North,' than fling out a 
 cartload from some lonely and unknown lake where never 
 before a line was thrown ? 
 
 I think these associations, acting on men prepared by edu- 
 cation, habit, and natural aptitude to receive them, have been 
 one great cause of British angling literature, certainly of the 
 best of it, and perhaps indeed, in a different way, of most of 
 
 mm 
 
•9^ 
 
 ^<l 
 
 ANGLING LITERATURE. 
 
 871 
 
 tlie rest. This country is as well favoured in the raw material, 
 
 and already the leaven is beginnhig to work. Though far 
 
 behind, we are still second to our kin beyond the sea; the 
 
 inherited love of manly sports is here, and its adequate 
 
 expression will come with time. 
 
 There is, near Philadelphia, the most ancient Fishing Club 
 
 in existence, called 'The State in SchuylVdll ; ' its chronicles 
 
 were published by a member, ^Villiam Milner, jun., in 1830, 
 
 under the title — 
 
 ' An Authentic Historical Memoir of the Schuyliiill Fishing Company 
 of the State in Schuylkill, from its Establishment on that Romantic 
 Stream, near Phihulelphia, in the year 17J32, to this present time. 
 By a Member.' 
 
 'If you look to its antiquity it is most ancient; 
 If to its dignity it is most honourable ; 
 If to its jurisdiction it is most extensive.' 
 
 The frontispiece is a lithograph of 'The Castle in Schuyl- 
 kill,' and the first manifesto of the associates, who numbered 
 among them some of the most eminent of the early colonists, 
 was dated 29th September 1744, and signed by Thomas Stretch. 
 There is <^ record of 'Election Expenses, October 1740,' 
 which shows the convivial element had proper recognition on 
 such occasions, as most of the items are for spirits, wine, pipes, 
 and tobacco. An interesting account of the Club up to a recent 
 date lately appeared in the Century Magazine, written by 
 Robert Adams, jun., and forms a fitting pendant for tlie very 
 rare and curious work of INIilner. The Club lias entertained, 
 in the primitive manner it still affects, most of tlie successive 
 Presidents of the United States, from Washington down. ' In 
 1825,' 1 quote from the Century article, 'Little Schuylkill 
 invited General Lafayette and suite to dine in state at the 
 
872 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 castle. The citizens, habited in white Hiien aprons and ample 
 straw hats, formed in open file. The Marquis made a speech, 
 and, expressing his desire as a member to do his duty, was 
 duly invested by the Councillors with a hat and apron and 
 introduced to the kitchen, where he was initiated into business 
 by attention to the turning of the beef-steaks on the gridirons. ' 
 Rev. Dr. Bethune occupi'^s the first place here as an 
 angling bibliographer, on the strength of his learned and 
 appreciative editorial work on the Wiley editions of ^^''alton ; 
 and in INIr. Thaddeus Norris we have an angling writer well 
 worthy of a place beside Stoddart, Cohpihoun, Francis, and 
 Pennell. He published in 1864 — 
 
 ' The American Angler's Book ; embracing the Natural History of 
 Sporting Fish, and tlie Art of Taking Them ; to which is 
 ajjpendeil Dies PiscatorUr, describing noted Fishing Places ant! 
 the Pleasures of Solitary Fly-Fishing.'' 
 
 Mr. Norris was a fluent, interesting writer, and a most accom- 
 plished angler. 
 
 The books of Henry William Herbert, which may be 
 claimed perhaps justly as those of an English author, were 
 published over the nom de plume of 'Frank Forrester.' They 
 are as follows : — 
 
 ' Frank Forrester's Fish and Fishing of the United States and British 
 
 I'rovinces of Nortii America, 1849 ;' 
 ' The Complete Manual for Young Sportsmen, 1864 ;' 
 ' American Game in its Seasons, 1873.' 
 
 There were others exclusively on shooting. This accom- 
 plished writer, whose melancholy end is so well known, was 
 the son of the Dean of Manchester, and came to this country 
 in his early manhood. The illustrations in Finh and Fishing 
 
■^p 
 
 ANGLING MTKHATURK. 273 
 
 were nuide by himself from nature. IVie lilackivatcr Chronicle 
 1853, by ' Porte-Crayon ' (INIr. Strother), is a description of 
 a long excursion into the wilderness after trout, and is very 
 readable. 
 
 In 1869 Genio C. Scott published Fishing in American 
 Waters, a large book, and full of excellent practical informa- 
 tion. 
 
 Alfred B. Street, the poet, published a book in 1860 
 called Woods and Waters, or the Saranac and Racket, 
 giving a moderately full account of the then little known 
 Adirondack region, and in his collected works are many 
 short angling poems of some merit. Robert Barnwell Roose- 
 velt is another American angling writer of a high rank ; his 
 books are full of reliable and explicit instruction in the art, 
 gathered from the stores of a long and varied personal 
 experience. The narrative and descriptive parts are entertain- 
 ing, and bear the impress of truthfulness, that jewel for 
 anglers. Mr. Roosevelt has written 
 
 ' Game Fish of the Nortliern States of America ami Uritish Provinces, 
 
 1862 ;' 
 ' Superior Fisliinf^, or the Striped Bass, Tn)ut, and Blacii Ua.ss of tiie 
 
 Northern States, 1865 ;' and 
 ' Fish Hatching and Fish Catcliing, 1879." 
 
 This last volume was written jointly with Mr. Seth Green, 
 
 the eminent angler and fish-culturist, whose contributions to 
 
 the periodical press on these subjects are well worthy of 
 
 preservation in a permanent form. 
 
 Much good ephemeral angling literature was collected 
 
 by Professor Mayer in his handsome book. Sport nith Gun 
 
 and Rod, published in 1884 by the 'Century' Company. 
 
 The excellent Bonk of the lilack' Bass, 1881, by Dr. James 
 
 '1 M 
 
274 
 
 FISHING IN CANADIAN WATERS. 
 
 A. Hcnshall, is a careful and well-written history of that game 
 fisii, from the standpoint of an angler and ichthyologist, and is 
 one of the most important American books of its kind. The 
 same author has since published a diverting account of cam]) 
 life in Florida, and a fitting companion to it is Lieutenant 
 Schwatka's Hunting and Fishing Adventures in Arctic 
 Regions, 1885. Prouty's Fish, their Habits and Haunts, and 
 Methods of Catching Them, Boston 1883, is unpretentious and 
 instructive; and an anonymous work, American Fish, and 
 Hoiv to Catch IViem, by an old angler, 1885, is one of the 
 best of its kind, the chapter on ' Fishing in the Pacific ' 
 being particularly novel and interesting. 
 
 An excellent book on flies and tackle is a recent one by 
 Henry P. Wells, though his following book, The American 
 Salmon Fisherman, shows far less knowledge of its subject. 
 
 There are various other American angling books of merit, 
 and many destitute of it; some of them written by men who 
 considered angling so low dovm in the scale of arts as to think 
 tlie capture of half-a-dozen fish by them, or in their presence, 
 a complete justification for their going into print on the 
 subject. More than a dozen editions of Walton have been 
 issued here, several of them worthy of their author; and the 
 current American Angler, devoted entirely to angling and 
 kindred topics, is a well-edited and well-supported weekly 
 paper. Mr. Isaac M'Lellan, a veteran sportsman, published 
 last year Poems of Rod and Gun, in which are included many 
 admirable descriptions of purely American sport and scenery. 
 
 Of non-English-speaking people, perhaps the Germans 
 have a greater angling literature than any others ; but it is 
 not extensive enough to admit of much notice here. Solomon 
 
 
 ■nn 
 
 wm 
 
ANGLING LITEllATUllE. a75 
 
 & Co., of Hamburg, in 1859, published a German translation 
 of the Complete Angler, probably the only one made in any 
 foreign tongue. 
 
 Italy has furnished a number of works on angling, chiefly 
 poetical ; and the French literature on the subject is amus- 
 ing, to say the least, in the generally palpable incapacity of 
 its writers to comprehend the idea of angling as a sport. 
 The biggest fish stories of Anglo-Saxon authors pale their 
 ineffectual fires beside those of Revoil and some of his 
 confreres. 
 
 This chapter has dragged along to an unconscionable 
 length, and mention of great numbers of books well worthy 
 of it has had to be entirely omitted. 
 
 It is almost certain that those only who are interested 
 in angling literature will read what I have Avritten, and I 
 fear that of these few a very large proportion will discover 
 its woful incompleteness before my confession of it. If my 
 humility suffices to partially disarm their criticism I shall 
 be content. 
 
 1 
 
( 
 
 M 
 
 
 !U 
 
 I 
 
 i i 
 
 1-5 . 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 V 
 
 I 
 
'■'i-iaii ft:ii::iiJi.ii!iii!i!iiiii;iii!n.:h 
 
 ■t:g''/^t..M:^.:,te^...iu,'y;js^i^^aaaii 
 
 others. Small 4tn, 'Ma, 
 
 Also a cheaiicr etlitimi, with I.ilhiiiinipliii: Illiistratii)iis. Svo, iL's. 
 
 My Indian Journal. Containing- l)e,scrii)tioii.s of tlie princijial 
 
 Fielil Spnrt.s iif India, witli Noti's on the Xatiual History and llahita of tlic Wild 
 Animals of the Country. l?y Colonel Walter Camjiliell, Antlior of "The Old I'orest 
 Kaugur. " Small demy Svo, with Illustrations liy Wolf, His. 
 
 The Eoof of till' ^yol•lfl. Beino' tlie Narrative of a Journey over 
 
 the High I'lateaii of Tibet to the Russian Frontier, and the Oxns Sonreea on I'amir. ISy 
 Brigadier-tJeneral T. E. (Jordon, C.S.I. With numerous Illustrations. Koyal Svo, 
 31s. tid. 
 
 Celtic Scotland. A History of Ancient Alban. IW William F. 
 
 Skene, ll.C.L., LL.I)., lIistoriogr'aiiher-K..yal for Seotland. ."! vols, demy 8vo, with 
 Maps, 4.J3. 
 
 Vid. T. HISTOHV ANI> KTIISdI.OdV. 1")S. 
 
 Vol. II. ciirucTi AM) cri.TinK. l.'is. 
 
 Vol. UI. I.ANTI AM) I'KOI'I.K. l.'is. 
 
 EDIXBUKOH: DAVID DOUGLAS: CASTLE STUEET. 
 
 d 
 
T 
 
 I! 
 
 . ' 
 
 f 
 
 } 
 
 i 
 
 
 . 
 
 A I'Atil'. l-KtiM VVAl.roN AND t'O ITON ' Ii6;6. I'AKi ii 
 Drawn aiul clclifd liy OtoKiiK AlKMAN. 
 
 (>.>.,. 
 
T 
 
 1 
 4, 
 
 
 RECENT PLIJEK ATIONS. 
 
 A Tinir in Sntlierliindsliiiv, witli Extrai'ts iVoiii tlie Fii'ld Hooks 
 
 of a Spiirtsmau anil Xatunilist. lly tlio late CliailcM St. .Inliri, Autlmi- of " Wilil Sports 
 and Xatiiial History in the |[ii;lLlan<)H." Scooml Ivlition, «itli an Appi'ndix on tin' 
 Kauna of Sntlu'riaml, by. I. A. Ilarviu-Hrown ami T. K. linuliU'y. llliistrati'il with llic 
 orijiinal Woml Knu'ravinjin, and additional \'ignL'ttc'8 from tliu Antlior'a skutch-liooka. 
 In 'J voU. small duniy «vo, 'Jls. 
 " Every pa;;i' is fidl of interest."— 77/'' /■'irlil. 
 
 "Theri' it not a wihl ere.'itnre in the llinhliiuds, from the trreat st:is to the tiny lh'e.ere>ted wren, 
 of whieli he lias not something,' plea.s.'int to say."— ^'k// J/k// <ht:,iti. 
 
 Notes and Sketclies from tlio Wild Coasts of Ni|ioii. Witli 
 
 Cliapters on (;rui.sinj,' after l'iiate.s in Chine.se Waters, liy Henry C. .St. .lolm, Captain 
 R. \. Small domy Svo, with Maps and Illn.strations, li's. 
 "One of the most eharmim; hooks nt travel that has heeii imMisheil for some tinie." Srulsmiiii. 
 
 "There is a creat de.il more in the hook tli:in X.ilural lli~tory. . . . His pietures of life iin>l 
 manners are quaint and etleeti\e, and the more so IVom the writing huing natural and free from ell'-rl." 
 — AI/iriHt ion. 
 
 "He writes with a .simplieity and direi'tne.s.s, and not seldom with a degree of L:ia|iliii' jiower, whi.h, 
 even apart from the freshness of the miM'T, n-inlers his hook deli'-ditful readiui'. Notliiiii,' eonld he 
 hitter of its kind than the deseriplion of the Inl.md Sea." — /*.'i/// .\'nr.<, 
 
 Saskiitcliowan and the Tiocky Mounlaiiis, Diary and Xarrati\c 
 
 of Travel, Sport, and Ailvenfnro, during a donrmy through part of the Ihid.son's Hay 
 Company's Territories in IS.'iH aiul ISlit). Uy the Karl of Southe.sk, K.'l'., I'Mi.lJ.S. 
 1 vol. demy .Svo, with Illustrations on Wood liy Wliyniper, ISs. 
 
 Wild Men and Wild Beasts. Adventuves in Canij) and -Innji'Io. 
 
 By Lient. -Colonel Cordon Cuniniing. With Illustrations liy Lieut. ■Colonel liaigrie ami 
 others. Snuill 4to, '.Ms. 
 
 Also a eheaper edition, with J.i/litiiii-ii/Jii<- Illustrations. Svo, I'Js. 
 
 Mv Indian Journal. Containinj;' l)eHcri|)tions of the principal 
 
 Field Sports of India, witli Notes on the Natural History ami Habits of the Wihl 
 Animals of the Country, liy Colonel Widter Campliell, Author of "The Old I'orest 
 Hanger." Small demy Svo, witli Illustrations liy Wolf, Ills. 
 
 The Hoof of the World. Beiny- the Narrative of a Journey f>ver 
 
 the High I'lateau of Tihet to the Kussian Krontier, and the Oxus Sourees on I'amir. I!y 
 Hrigadier-Ueneral T. E. (iordon, C.S.I. With numerous Illustrations. Itoyal Svo, 
 •lis. Od. 
 
 Celtic Scotland. A History of Ancient All)an. I'y William F. 
 
 Skene, ll.C.L., LL.D., Histiu-iographerUoyal for Seotland. ,'? vols, demy Svo. with 
 Maps, l.-js. 
 
 Vol. I. llISTOIiY AMI KTIIMlI.oliV. ITlS. 
 Vol. II. liriltCIl AM) CfT.TI'ItK. l.'lS. 
 Vol. 111. l.AMI AM) I'Klll'i.i:. l.'lS. 
 
 EDIXBUIMUI: D.VVID DOUliLAS : CASTLE STliKKT. 
 
 ^gm^igg 
 
The Art (pf (Jnll". \\y Sir \V, (i. SimpsDn, liiivt., (!aptain of tlie 
 
 UMiiiiiiialili- ('niiipiiny nf I'Minluiiyli licilfiiH. With Twenty I'liitoH fmm IimtantiiiuMum 
 riiiitiit'ra|ili» cif I'mfi ■t.^Kiiial I'liiji ik, rliiitly \>y A. I''. Maclic, Kn^i. Di-iiiy 8vi), .Murcino 
 
 "■I'hrii' H iMiii'li tilut till' rariii-t (.'ollVr will iIm well li rciiil r.in'riilly, nml ri'lli'il m "ii ; tlin diuiKi! 
 ■-■iv ■!! ;-. ilfiii iwi iiliiii'l.' 11^ 11 wi'll hil til' shut, llii' nili'i iinuriili' im ii Nliiiinht imlt, thii nclruiinitiniis 
 iitti'i'iii]'r'iiiiisiii(f iiH till* t.iri- 111 II IniiikiT. Till- iiliitt'it?rii|ilis uru I'Xi'fllt'itt. . . . ' Tliu Art ul' tiolt ' 
 i> will w.iitli 111!' utti'iili ir|4ulli-i>." S/filiit..,: 
 
 "Till' vnluiiii'i lii'iiiitilully iiriiii.nl Mini liiiuilsunK'ly t; 'I up, ili'scrvi's tn liiivii ,i iil.ire in tlm dnwint;- 
 riiiini iitrViMv lii'CMi v'lilfiT." .V.'"/.«mii)i 
 
 "(In all iliiM' pMiiils lit ' 'i'hi' All "I' (lull' Sir W. Sini|iiiin \ln^ niiirh In kmv, nml siivs it wi'll ; 
 nnli'i^l, lliiMii.'liiiiit hr prinMiN liii kiiiiuliils;i' in III.' iiiiisl tiikiiiK lii.iliiiin, lOi'l hil ti'xt is ni'Vcr iliill, 
 r;u li iiii^ii- iti'inj,' liii,;lit iinil lull ul Uiiiiwli-'l^'i'." ^7'^•'■'/"l/• llt-nii'i. 
 
 "A stinly lit it will I'urtainly ilo niiiili to iniiirnM' tin' niniii''.s I'liiy." Iihislrol'd S/i'irliii;i mill 
 /h'tmiitif Xi'ifn. 
 
 •■ An I'Xi'i'Urllt liii'ik fur nolfrrs."— .S'li/in'i/m/ Itfi'ii'ii'. 
 
 ■•A ili'i'iileilly lunutin;,' an ■ 11 as a prai'liial hanilliiink." .Ulifimiini. 
 
 Miidi'iii IIuisiMiiitiislii|). A New Motliod of Tont'liinj^f Jlidiii},' 
 
 anil Training,' tiy nnaiis of I'iutiirc.s frimi the l.ifc. Ity K. li. .Anilirsiin. 'J'liinl Kilitinn, 
 witli fi'csli llliiMtratiiinK of the " I iallop-ChanKe " of iiniipie anil peuiiliar interest. 
 Illn^tratell hy IVl Instantane.ius I'hotiijfraplm. Demy Hvo, '21s. 
 •It i> Miipnssilili' til ri'ii'l 11 pii'.'i' in iiiiv nt liii Imnks «iilinul ri'Mi^'hisinu tlie I'm t that this is a 
 
 jira.tii'al hursi'inan speiikiiiK Irimi hinj,' expi'rii'nre nl an art whiili he has ili'Vuti-illy sluiliiil ami 
 
 prai'lisi'il."— .S'ii'k/i^i// /I'mVic. 
 
 N'icc In tilt' llorso; aiul otlitT I'aper.s on Iforsos and llidinjf. 
 
 r.V K I.. Anilersiin, Anthiir of " Mmleru Hiirsenianship." llhiHtrateil, Demy Svo, .')». 
 
 Tilt- (iallop. Hv K. Ii. Andi'i'.soii. Illustrated by Instantaneous 
 
 I'hotograpliy. IVap. 4to, ■-». (iil. 
 
 Tlic CaiK'ivaillie in Srotland. I'>y .1. A. ll;ii'vIt>-|{ro\vii. Ktchinrfs 
 
 nn (.'upper, anil .Map illustrating' the uxtenxion of its range since its Ke.itoration at 'I'ay- 
 miiuth in lH.'t7 and IKiS. Demy 8vu, «8. ow. 
 
 Sfiitlaiid as It Was and as It Is. By tlie Duke of Ari^'yll. 
 
 Popular Eilition, with Imlex anil Illustrations. 1 vol. ilemy Svo, 7». (iil. 
 
 Arniston IMenioirs — From tlie lOtli to the I9th (.'eiitury. Edited 
 
 from Family I'apers, hy Oeo. W. T. Omcmil, Advocntc. I vol, .small 4ti), Illnatratcil 
 with many Ktehings hy \\ ilh-.ni Hole, A. U.S.A., Lithographs and Woodents, 2l.s. 
 
 The Story of Burnt ISi'ja! ; or, Life in Ifeland at the end of the 
 
 Tenth Century. I'Vom 'lie I elandic of the Nj.ds Saga. I!y Sir (Icorge Wchhe Pasent, 
 D.C. L. '2 vols, deiiij S-o, lith Maps and I'lans, 'JSa. 
 
 Tilt' (,'astellated and Domestic Architecture of Scotliind, frtmi the 
 
 Twelftli to the Kighteenth Century, liy D.iviil Mai'gihhon and Thomas Koss, Areliitects. 
 
 With aliout 10(10 Illnstratinns of (irnund I'lans, Sections, Views, Klovations, and Details. 
 
 'J vols, royal 8vo, 4'is. each, net. 
 
 "(.)rn' lit till' im.-t I'lmiplete hunks im Si'oltish Ari'hitiitiiri' Ih.it h.is ever lioen roniiiili'il."— .S'i<//.>w'(n. 
 
 •' No line aci|ii;iiiite.l with tlii' histury nl' (iie;tl Hrilaiii can take up this nt'atly-l.i.iiiiii voliinii' . . . 
 
 wilhniU lii'ing at iincf struck hy its carct'til coitii'lcti'tirss anil ixtlciiic avcli;i'nliij,'ical nitcicst, while all 
 
 stu'li'iiis ot architectural style will welciimi' the work sjiccially fur its ti'chnii'al thiniui^'hnes,s." — 
 
 Itiiililiiig jYeics. 
 
 '•Their ile.scriptions are always good ami their arguments always worth attention ami generally 
 cnnvim ing." — Athni" nut. 
 "The authors merit the thanks of all architectural readers."— /Jhi7i/c/'. 
 
 EDINBUKGH: DAVID DOUGLAS. 
 
XATIIKAL IIISTOllY k SPOUT 
 
 IN MOUAV 
 
 Oin' J'ulitllh', Hmjal Sec. "iOn, 
 
 wriH lu I ri.I,-PAi-,K II.LUSTUATMN'S <JK SCEMUY AND AMMAI. l.]l K, DUAW.N lir 
 .! o11i;E IlKM), U.S A., ANU ,1, WViI.IKKl: TAVI.nll, AM) l-NtaiAVKD BY AMANH UinANIl. 
 
I 1 
 
 I I 
 
 'IM... 
 
 Avt .^{' (inW Uv Sir W. (ji. Simpson, Bart., Captain of the 
 
 iHclftli to till- Kiglitoi'Dtli ('I'litiiry. liy I'.ivm iiiatgi.>.juii .w... „ . , . 
 
 With alxiiit 101") llliistiatioiis (if (Inmiiil I'liins, Stxtions, Viewa, Kleviitions, and Details. 
 
 ■J vols, royal Svo, 4-.s. eac'i, nut. 
 
 '*()iif of tlie iiiitst foniitlt'tt' ln>i»ks on Sr'ottisli Arcliitrftiin' that has ever bL'cn coiiipileil." — t^cotuman. 
 
 " No OIK' ai'iniainted witli tlii' history of (lieat Hritiiiii can taki' up this ntatly-lioiiml voliiiiiu , . . 
 
 witlioiii lu-inj; at, imi'i' strut-k hy its t'art'tiil coinph'ti'Ui'ss ami fxtri'inc avclui-olnijii'ii! iiitcu-st, whiK' all 
 
 sliiclrnts of avi'liituctuial style will wkIi'oiiiu the work sju'oially for its tirhnioal tliorciU(,'hm'ss."~- 
 
 IU>ii<ting Sfirs, 
 
 "Tlii'ir {li'si'iiptinns ar'c always ffmA atnl thoir aigiiiniMits always worth attiiitioii ai:il general. y 
 convinrinp." — Ath* tin iint. 
 "The .uithors merit the thanks of all arehitt etiiral readers."— Iljihlir. 
 
 EDIXBURC II: DAVID DOUGLAS. 
 
NATURxVL HISTORY & SPORT 
 
 IN MORAY 
 
 1]y ClIAllLES ST. JOHN 
 
 AT I H" til "I ■■ wii.n drums in imk mioiu \m» 
 
 EDINBUKGH; DAVID DOl'OLAS 
 
 18 8 2 
 
 One l'iilini)'\ Ji' i/itl Sr,i. ,")0.n'. 
 
 Wl in lu 1 rl.l.-l'A'-.K ll.LUSTll.VTIONS ClK SCF.SMIV AND ANFM VI. I.IKK, HHAWS IIT 
 lIi.:K Ill-Ill. U.S.A., A.NU .r, WYCI.IKH: TAVI.nll, AND IN'II'AVKD IIV AMANH UI RANIl. 
 
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 i: u r i: i^ u ^ 
 
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 Kdinl)iir),'li ; Mi'iulicr nf tin; iSiitisli ()iiiitlic)liif.'i>ts' I'liiijii, it.., iiiid T. 10. lliKkliy. ll.A., 
 K.Z.S,, MinilRr of the liritisli (lrnitlicil.'i<i^t.s' rmoii, ftr. -^mull 4t.i, witli Map aii.l 
 lllustnitions by Mosra, J G. Millai», '1'. S. Kouli'Jiiaiis, Saiii.ifl Head, and nlliurs, IWn. 
 
--•iir^ 
 
 A 
 
 VERTEBRATE 
 
 FAUNA 
 
 or 
 
 RLAND, CAIT 
 
 A Yerteliratc Fauna of Sutlierlaiul, C'altlincss, and West Croniai-ty. 
 
 I<y .1. A. Iliirvicliinwn, F.lt.S.I':., K.Z.S., Vii'fl'ifsiil.iit Koy:il I'liysical s.iciity, 
 Kclinburgli ; MiMiilicr nf tlic liiitish Oiiiilliologists' I'liioii, it.., ami T. K. KiukKy. li.A., 
 !•'./. S,, Mi'iiiliiT (if the liritisli driiitlinlojiists' fniim, etc. Small 4t.i, with Map and 
 Illustrations liy Messrs. .1. (I. Millais, 'I', s, Kuuli'iiiaiis. Saijniol Ktad, ami nthurs, .'iOs. 
 
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 f.vi 
 
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