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THE
Fishing Tourist :
ANGLER'S GUIDE po REFERENCE BOOK.
BY .
CHARLES HALLOCK,
SECKETART OF THE " BLOOMINO OROVB PARK AgSOCIATrOI-l/
' Ab flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;
They kill us for their sport."- Shak.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1873.
f .
Entered, according tc Act of Congress, in ttie year 1873, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In tlie OflQce of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
%
KING OF GAME-FISH,
, ■'-■■■■'" ",■"*■ "■ ' . ; ■ ■ -
/Ais^-e. j>etfj. ^^ed ^^ 4.-e4.A'ei:-^^^^^
^?VJ^'
e:
PREFATO RY.
I HAVE been frequently requested to collate my various
sketches of travel and adventure which have appeared
from time to time in Harper's Magazine, and publish them in
book form for the information of sportsmen. But, as these
cover a period of seventeen years, and much of the material
has passed out of date, I have thought it better to issue a
work more comprehensive, to serve as a sort of Reference
Book for Anglers and Tourists.
This volume presents in a concise form all the informa-
tion necessary to enable gentlertien to visit successfully every
accessible salmon and trout region of America ; though of
course it has not attempted to specify each neighborhood
locality. Observation is confined exclusively to the Salmo
family, because I regard them as the only frenh-water fish,
excepting the black bass, worthy the name of game-fish — the
earnest pursuit whereof leads where much substantial infor-
mation can be gathered, with benefit to mind and body.
Since the ancient days of Pliny and Ansonius, the " trout
in speckled pride " has been the undying theme of pastoral
poete and sentimental anglers ; and a fulsome rhapsody here
would only pale before the light of their diviner fires. Ped-
ants in piscatory lore have so often classified the Snlmo
family, and described their characteristics and minutest
points of diflFerence, that I asEume the scientific world is sat-
isfied that nothing remains to be said on that head ; hence I
offer no supplementary essay. Fly-fishing as a fine art has
VIU PBEFATOUY.
been expatiated upon till it has become a worn-out leaf in
books. I forbear to delegate myself instructor in a brancli of
study which can be thoroughly mastered only by diligent and
intelligent practice. As for the " beauties of nature" which
environ the haunts of the angler and so infallibly inspire the
author's pen, are they not painted on the clouds, written on
the leaves, and limned in rainbow tints upon the dashing
streams ? It is evident that any eflfort of mine in this direc-
tion, however ambitious, has been anticipated. Neither will I
attempt to rival the retailers of big fish stories. The field is
already fallow. My province is simply to write an Angler's
Guide without embellishment ; to tell where fish are to be
caught, and when, and how ; to show the sportsman the
shortest routes to pleasure, the best means of conveyance, the
expense thereof, and the secrets of the commissariat.
With a few notable exceptions, our sporting literature is
composed of technical scientific treatises on fish and fish-
hooks, which may possibly interest a club of veteran anglers,
but which only bore and mystify the general reader ; or else
the books are mer'> recitals of personal exploits, supp' )mented
by sentimental apostrophes to nature, and rounded off with
high-flown periods. What does it matter to the neophyte,
or what does the casual reader care, whether an artificial fly
is whipped with the real yellow mohair, or with the rayed
feathers of the mallard dyed yellow ? What do they know
of the mechanism of rods and reels ? How can we stir
enthusiasm in hearth-rug knights, or instil into their compo-
sition a love for field sports by confusing their minds with ich-
thyological abstractions ? Why daze the novice by turning
all at once upon his unaccustomed eyes the full effulgence
of the Sportsman's Paradise ? A service more meritorious
and long needed, would be to furnish some plain, wholesome
fare of wise instruction, comprehensible to common minds ;
some healthy and vigorous photographs of real life, which
will assert their truthfulness by instantly reviving kindred
experiences of days gone by ; with a judicious touch of light
and shade in the coloring that shall make the profession and
PJiEFATOKY. IX
field uttractivo and not discouraging by a pedantic display
of its mysterious paraphernalia.
A taste for out-of-door sports must be nurtured carefully.
Its growth cannot be forced. Gradually and completely
can we wean our families from the dissipation, late hours,
and unhealthy conventionalisms of fashionable watering-
places. By degrees we shall teach our wives and daughters
to participate in the favorite pastimes of their husbands and
sons ; for do they not always take a warm interest in any-
thing that affects us ? Do they not sympathize with our
views and plans, and mould their tastes to ours ? Why,
then, should not a sporting literature be provided which our
women may read with pleasure, and our children with profit ?
More suitable or healthy light reading could not be put into
their hands for perusal in the summer days.
Not vain enough to suppose that the material of these
pages meets this requisition, nor intending to write a book
upon such a model, I nevertheless indulge the belief that it
answers in many essentials the public demand, and that a
cordial welcome will be extended to the Fishing Tourist.
THE AUTHOR
New York, Febmiary 1, 1873.
f^::
•'.,<<
. .*■
J
CONTENTS.
PART 1 .
PAQC
Early Lessons— Fly-fishing as a Fine Art— Trout and Salmon-
lishiug compared— Game-fish — The Salmo Family — Natural
History oi' the Salmon — Ascending the River to Spi^wn — Trout
and Trout-rods — The Outfit — The Sportsman 15 — 54
PART J i .
CBAPTEH » FAGB
I. — Long Island 57
IL— The Adirondacks 67
in.— The AUeghanies 80
IV.— New England 89
v.— The Schoodics 10()
VI. — Nova Scotia Ill
VII.— Cape Breton 131
VIII.— New Brunswick 134
IX.— Baie des Chaleurs. 149
Xll CONTENTS.
CHAFTEB PAGE
X. — The Lower St. Lawrence 160
XL— The Saguenay 170
XIL — Labrador and Newfoundland 190
XIIL— Anticosti 183
XIV.— Tlie Ottawa District 196
XV.— The Superior Region 198
XVL— The Michigan Peninsula 306
XVIL— The"Big V^oods" 210
XVIIL— The Pacific Slope 217
XIX. — Blooming Grove Park 224
XX. — Natural and Artificial Propagation 230
ilUfll
Sulmo, a salmon, probably from salio, to leap." — Lexicon.
L
'V-lf"^
■>^.
ND why not " probably ?" Is not the leap the nota*
ble characteristic of the whole Salmo family? Is
'1^ it not the marvelous leap over the counterscarp of
^ J y dashing falls, and that more desperate leap taken
^ '^ at full tension of lengthened line and straining rod,
which marks the courage and nervous strength of the
salmon ? Is it not the leap at eventide, out from the depths
of shadowy pools, that baptizes him with showers of glitter-
ing spray the embodiment of grace and beauty ?
" For often at night, in a sportive mood.
He comes to the brim of the moonlit flood,
And tosses in air a curve aloft,
» Like the silvery bow of the gods, then soft
He plashes deliciously back in the spray.
While tremulous circles go spreading away."
Answer thine oAvn heart's impulse, oh, enthusiastic devo-
tee to sports of forest and stream ! Does it not quicken the
pulse and thrill the nerves, and make thine own heart leap
too, in magnetic sympathy, to see, aye, even to remember,
those magnificent leaps of the wonderful salmon? And
16 SALMONID^.
wherever the ^almon or the trout disports himself, there
Nature likewise hfts up her voice and lier hands in joyful
harmony and accord. The leaves dance to their own whis-
pered cadences ; the cascade leaps to the music of its fall ;
birds and insects take frequent wing ; and the bounding
deer snuflfe the air, vital and laden with woodland perfumes.
Surely it is the leap that designates the salmon. Let us,
therefore, accord to him and all his royal family that he-
raldic device and motto which justly belong to their noble
line, and which have ever been recognized where Nature has
held her court — Salmo the Leaper !
Just here, npon the inspiration of the occasion and the
theme, it would be natural to give my pen an impromptu
flourish, and describing a graceful parabola over my shoul-
der, secundem artem, drop my line deftly into the swift cur-
rent of my subject, just where that salmon splashed but now.
I forbear only through fear of personal criticism from some
old sportsman whose hair is more gray than mine. Yet, as-
suredly a quarter of a century devoted to study of the gentle
art should exempt me from a charge of presumption in at-
tempting to instruct, or of egoism in simply narrating some
portion of manifold personal experiences, quorum par.s fui.
It is now twenty-six years since I cast my first fly among
the green hills of Hampshire county, Massachusetts. I was
a stripling then, tall and active, with my young blood bound-
ing through every vein, and reveling in the full promise of
a hardy manhood. My whole time was passed out of doors.
I scorned a bed in the summer months. My home was a
tree-embowered shanty apart from the farm-house, and
crowning a knoll around whose base wound and tumbled a
most delectable trout-brook. Here was the primary school
where I learned the first rudiments of a sportsman's educa-
tion. In time I came to know every woodchuck hole in the
township, and almost every red squiiTel and chipmunk by
sight; every log where an old cock-partridge drummed;
every crow's nest, and every hollow tree where a coon hid
8ALM0NIDJE.
17
away. I heard Bob White whistle to his mate in June, and
knew where to find liis family when the young brood hatched
out. I had pets of all kinds: tame squirrels, and crows,
hawks, owls and coons. All the live-stock on the farm were
my friends. I rode the cows from pasture, drove a cosset
four-in-hand, jumped the donkey off the bridge to the detri-
ment of both our necks, and even trained a heifer so that I
could fire my shot-gun at rest between her budding horns.
I learned where to gather all the berries, roots, barks, and
" yarbs " that grew in the woods ; and so unconsciously be-
came a naturalist and an earnest student of botan} . As to
fishing, it was my passion. There ■•vere great lakes that re-
posed in the solitude of the woods, at whose outlets the hum
and buzz of busy saw-mills were heard, and whose waters
were filled with pickerel : and, most glorious of all, there
were mountain streams, foaming, purling, eddying and rip-
pling with a life and a dash and a joyousness that made our
lives merry, and filled our hearts to overflowing with pleas-
ure.
Fly-fishing was in its infancy then. It was an art scarcely
known in America and but little practised in England. The
progressive school of old Isaak and Kit North had but few
graduates with honor. We boys, my cousin and I, had little
conception of the curious devices of feathers and tinsel which
we afterwards learned to use ; and to the angling fraternity
the artifices of Thorndyke, Stickler and Bethune were as
mysterious as the occult sciences themselves. We used sim-
ply a wattle and a worm, and whipped the trout out by hun-
dreds ; for the streams fairly teemed with them. And it re-
quired some little skill to do it, too — much knowledge of the
haunts of the speckled beauties, much caution in creeping
up to the more exposed pools, where a passing shadow would
have dashed our hopes in an instant ; and no little dexterity
in dropping the bait quietly out of sight under the bank,
where we knew a waty trout was lurking. What a thrill
there was when the expected tug came ! and when we had
2
1& . SALMONID^.
him hooked, we pulled him out vi et armis. No time for
grace or parley. It was purely a test of strength between
tackle and gill^ AVe did not understand "playing a trout"
And yet we were the best anglers in the village. No boys
could hjld a candle to us. We caught bigger fish and more
of them. We knew every good place in the stream. There
was the old log just at the edge of the woods, the big hole
where we used to bathe, the bridge that crossed the road, the
rocky ledge at the pond where there was a little mill, the
crossing-log in the ten-acre pasture, the eddy at the lower
falls, and so on from point to point, through devious wind-
ings and turnings, away down stream three miles or more to
the grist-mill — the same which the old " Mountain Miller "
used to " tend " in days gone by.
Ah I those were halcyon days. No railroads disturbed the
quiet seclusion of that mountain nook. The scream of the
locomotive was not heard within twenty-four miles of it.
Twice a week an old-fashioned coach dragged heavily up the
hill into the hamlet and halted in front of the house which
was at once post-offico, tavern, and miscellaneous store — an
" omnium gatherum," as our friend Ives had it in our college
days at Yale. One day it brought a passenger. A well-knit,
wiry frame he had, and features stolid and denoting energy
and kindred quahties. He carried a leather hand-bag and a
handful of rods in a case. The village quidnuncs said he
was a surveyor. He allowed he was from Troy and had
'^ come to go a-fishing." From that stranger I took my first
lesson in fly-fishing.
As he stood upon the tavern-steps he gazed across the bar-
ren waste of ground to the meeting-house opposite — the same
meeting-house where my revered grandfather ministered with
grace for forty years — a meeting-house quaint and ancient,
rooster-crowned, with its horse-block and horse-sheds at
hand, and its square pews inside, its lofty galleries and pul-
pit, its deacon-seats and its sounding-board, long since things
of the past. He gazed and seemed to meditate, then shook
SALMONID^.
19
his head and remarked, " To-morrow will be Sunday. I shall
have to wait till the following day. Sonny, can you tell me
if there is any trout-fishing about here ? " Trout-fishing ! to
me there was magic in the sound. Of course my Sunday-
school lesson lapsed next day. Appetite deserted me — I even
refused the golden gingerbread that my aunt supplied at noon
from the family lunch-basket. But you should have seen
that stranger fish on Monday ! It was not that he took so
very many fish, but the way in which he did it. In the first
place his rod Avas so constructed in difierent pieces that he
could joint it together, and it was nicely varnished too, and
stififer and more supple than our long hickory poles. I did
not see what kind of bait he used — I didn't see him use any —
but he gave a flourish of his arm, and tossed his line every
time, far, far beyond the most ambitious attempts of ours ;
and nearly eveiy time a fish took his hook. Big fellows they
were, too, I can tell you. We always knew they were out
there in that deep water under the alders, for wo had seen
them break there, often. We never tried to fish there ; we
could not reach them from this side, and upon the other the
bushes were so thick it was useless to attempt it. All day
long, while fishing with him, I employed my nicest art. I
took only a few big ones — any dozen of his would have out-
weighed my whde string. It aggravated me awfully. He
said I was an excellent hait fisher, but thought I would learn
to prefer a fly. Before he went away he gave me some
instructions and a few flies. Since then I have always used
a fly, except in certain contingencies.
II.
Some gentlemen, by no means pretentious or opinionated,
dehght to assert that since they became recognized anglers
they have never taken a trout or a salmon except with a
fly. I doff my hat in reverence to the sentiment; it is
the honest utterance of a justifiable pride. It is the spirit
30 SALMONID^.
* «
of the sangre azid, which dignifies the cultivated sports-
man above the mere fisherman ; the man of honor above
the assassin, the Herod among the small fry, the filler of
pots and defier of close seasons. Nevertheless, I cannot ad-
mit the implication that the man who habitually uses bait
is consequently a creel-stuffer, or deficient in the scientific
accomplishments of the craft. Fly-fishing and bait-fishing
are co-ordinate branches of the same study, and each must
be thoroughly learned to qualify the aspirant to honors for
the sublime degree of Master of the Art.
■ Grant that fly-fishing transcendently illustrates the poetry
of the gentle calling : is it becoming or wise to despise the
sterner prose, the metaphysics of the more practical school ?
The most dazzling accomplishment, that one which most
enhances individual charms, is not necessarily of the great-
est practical or substantial worth. Each method of fishing
has its advantages ; one may be made available where the
other is wholly impracticable. The deftly-tossed fly, taking
wing on the nerve of a masterly cast, will drop gracefully far
out in the stream where the heavier gear of the bait rod
would never aspire to reach. On the other hand, the bait
must supersede the fly on densely overgrown streams, and
wherever the locality precludes proper casting-room. More-
over fish do not always prefer the same dipt. They have
their times to eat and their choice of food, whether red
worms, small fry, maggots, or flies. They will take bait when
they will not rise to a fly. The red worm is notoriously the
most acceptable food of the lordly salmon. The Salmo fam-
ily do not feed upon insects and flies : they make no hearty
meal of such. These are merely the souffles and whipped
syllabub of their table d'hote — their superficial dessert, which
they gracefully rise to accept. Has it become the law of
Piscator that professional anglers shall pander to the pam-
pered epicure alone ? that they shall never tempt the trout or
salmon except when in his most fastidious mood? I might
even strain a pomt in favor of the bait-fisher, and hold that,
v'
SALMOJTID^.
21
inasmuch as fishes, Hke men, have their five senses, and since
in fly-fishing the sense of sight alone is tested, such kind of
Jingling is a mean imposition upon the creatures' credulity,
and not fair play at all. • • •• » .• • •
I utter no plea for the bait-fisher who angles stolidly from
boat or stump ; there is neither sport nor science nor sense
in his method. But to the man who can handle his rod
properly and with successful result in an impetuous river or
tumbling mountain stream (I care not whether he uses fly
or bait), I must in justice concede a claim to high rank in
the angling fraternity. A thorough knowledge of the habits
of the fish is requisite in either ease; and without that
knowledge which the practiced bait-fisher must acquire of
their haunts and breeding-places, their exits and their
entrances, their food and times for feeding, and the seasons
when they are in condition, no man can be regarded a per-
fect angler, no matter whether he handle his fly with the
skill of Arachne herself (Joke intended.)
Exhausted with my attempt to legitimate the habitual
bait-fisher into the family of sportsmen (for which he will
doubtless thank me), I am fain to assert that the acquisition
of the artificial fly to the angler's portfolio has measurably
increased the charms of his sport. Fly-fishing gives more
varied play and greater exercise to the muscles ; it bestows a
keener excitement ; it intensifies the perceptive faculties ; it
requires nicer judgment than bait-fishing, quicker and more
delicate manipulation, and greater promptness in emergen-
cies ; it is more humanizing in its influences ; it is beautiful
in its associations, and poetic in the fancies it begets. Light
as a thistle's down the little waif of a fly flits hither and yon,
dancing upon the ripples, coursing over the foam, breasting
the impetuous current, leaving its tiny trail where the sur-
face is smoothest, but always glancing, gleaming, coquetting
like the eye of a maiden, and as fatally ensnaring. It woos
no groundlings; it is not "of the earth earthy"; it is all
n
SALMON ID^.
ethereal, vitalizing, elevating. There is nothing groveling
in fly-fishing — nothing groaa or demoralizing.
But bait-fishing? Well — it is cruel to impale a minnow
or a frog. It is vulgar and revolting to thread a worm.
Worms! bah! let them goto the bottom. I drop my line
just here. I have gained a temporary vantage Tor my bait-
fishing friend. If ho loses the campaign, he deserves to bo
beaten with his own rod. For myself, I boldly avow an un-
qualified preference for the fly in all cases where its use is
practicable. I have said as much already. Let it be re-
corded.
III.
Upon one other point I shall make issue with those ang-
lers par excellence — this select coterie of soi-disant profes-
sionals;, not because they are not really the experts they as-
sume to oe, but because of the very complacent manner in
vdiitfh they fold their arms upon the tip-top pinnacle of
cumulative knowledge, and superciliously look down upon
their fellow-crafts below. These eminent gentry affect to
despise trout-fishing. " Oh ! " they say, " we never trouble
such small game. We've got past that sort of thing. All very
well for those who have never had a hack at a salmon — very
decent sort of sport, you know : but as for us, we couldn't
look at a trout when salmon are running."
"But, sir, consider — " i *
. " My dear fellow, it's no use talking, you never can have
an idea of real genuine sport until you get hung of a forty-
pound salmon!"
Such positive assurances, coming from such high author-
ity, ought to be convincing and conclusive. Sir Oracle's
estimate of sport is evidently as between a half-pound trout
and a forty-pound salmon, all other conditions being equal.
Now, in truth, the quality of sport is in the ratio of the
delicacy of the tackle to the strength and play of the fish.
.BALMONID.E.
A foiir-ppunil trout on an 8-oz. rod is equal to a sixteen-
pound salmon on a 32-oz. rod. " But," urges tlic sulmon-
tisher, " tlio nobler the game the nobler the sport." Granted,
provided the relative conditions are maintained — not other-
wise. If forty-pound salmon are to be hauled in hand over
hand on a cod line, or if whitling trout are to be whipped
out on a twenty-feet salmon rod — if size and weight alone are
to determine the quality of the sport, and the value of
the captive as a game fish, why, one might as well troll for
Mackinaw trout, or drag the East River for dead bodies. I
have had more positive, continuous enjoyment with a three-
pound trout on a one-handed Andrew Clcrke split bamboo
(I never drop a fly from any other rod) than I experienced
from the biggest salmon I ever took in the Ilestigouche. It
was in the East Kiver, near Chester, Nova Scotia. But espe-
cially shall I remember the chase a lively gi-il^e led me on
that self-same day. The larger salmon had stopped running
for the season, and the chances were so small of taking on
my delicate trouting cackle any description of fish other
than the trout I angled for, that I felt little risk in casting
my line over the waters where salmon would be likely to lie.
I had just recuperated from my laborious contest with the
big trout ; and when the grilse struck the hook smartly, I
had reason to believe that I had my trout's big brother in
hand. But I was undeceived " in a jiff) '' The instant the
fellow felt himself hooked, he shot up a rapid with my whole
seventy-five feet of line, and when he was snubbed leaped a
boulder three feet high, and ran back again to the pool he
started from, where he stopped to consider the situation.
Doubtless he felt it to be ridiculous. I certainly so regarded
my own position. I was standing on a slippery shelf, which
I had attained with difficulty in order to get a decent cast,
with a dense thicket of alders over my head and an inky
pool of unknown depth directly below my feet. I had
hooked the fellow just at the foot of the pool beside which I
stood. The angler will appreciate the situation. I had
%
■f*
24 SALMONID^.
cither to break tackle, lose fish, or perchance drown myself.
The rapid return of the fish made a frightful sag in my lino,
and I was "taking in slack" as rapidly as possible, when the
extra strain of the lino drawing down the current wakened
up his ideas ; and, giving a short leap clear of the water, ho
darted down stream like a rocket. How the hook kept fast
in his jaws all this time was a mystery. Zip went the reel
with a velocity that almost struck fire ; into the water
leaped the rod, following the fish ; and after tlic rod floun-
dered I, still clinging to the but. I did not say my prayers,
but I had just time to think how much it would cost to re-
pair my Baguelin watch, when my feet touched gravel at the
head of the rr.pid, and one risk was canceled. If you had
seen me follow that fish down stream, you would have been
delighted at my good fortune in circumventing obstacles.
The river was full of boulders, and there was great and imme-
diate danger of getting my lino fouled. But I presently got
control of my game, and gave him the but handsomely— and
after that he didn't run faster than I wished. The fellov/
liad me at a disadvantage, and the wonder was how I ever
got him at all ; but when I emptied the water out of my
long boots, I* felt glad that I had bagged that fish. But I
have always worn low shoes since, when fishing.
Doubtless there is an exultant, pulse-compelling pride in
landing a monster salmon of indefinite weight, which docs not
pertain to ordinary or extraordinary trout-fishing ; but as to the
comparative merits of the two species, it is a (piestion in my
mind which should be voted the nobler game. Their habits,
haunts and characteristics are identicaVin many respects ; and
excepting in size, one may be justly regarded the i)eer of the
other. This single difference may be adjusted, as I have shown,
by a proper adaptation of the tackle emi)l()yed to capture
them. It is certainly rougher work to kill a salmon, and vast-
ly more fatiguing: and at times the sport is positively dan-
gerous. As respects collateral pleasures derived from natural
surroundings and associations, it may be. remarked that trout
SALMONID^.
25
streams arc generally more romantic than those localities
where salmon are caught ; hccauso being tributaries of the
larger rivers, thej are situated higher up among the mount-
ain sources ; they are farther from the salt air of the ocean,
and in a rarer and purer atmosi)here ; they are generally
more accessible to civilization ; and they traverse region more
hosj)itable, where game is found in greater variety ana abun-
dance, whore the forests are denser and teem with bird and
insect life. And finally, as regards those ambidextrous ex-
perts who affect to regard trout-fishing as the inferior art and
beneatii their attention, I will sim])ly revenge myself by
quoting from Francis Franciis, the astute observer, who says :
"A good trout-fisher will easily become an expert at salmon-
fishing: but a very respectable practitioner with the sal-
mon-rod will often have all his schooling to do afresh, should
he descend to trout-fishing, before he can take rank as a mas-
ter of the art."
IV.
'J'here are some kinds of fish, comely in appearance, bold
biters, and rather successful torturers of fine tackle, which
are styled (jamc-Jlsh and angled for as such, but which by no
means deserve the name and re[)utation. Such customers
may possibly "pass in a crowd," as the 8habl)y genteel fre(pient-
ly do among the masses of human society. But the superior
([ualities juid attributes of the true game-fish are readily de-
tected.
J)c^\nc ma a (lonneman and I Avill define you a "game"
fish ; "which the same" is known by the company he keeps,
and recognized by his dress and address, features, habits, in-
telligence, haunts, food, and' manner of eating. The true
game-fish, of which the trout and salmon are freciuently the
types, inhabit the fairest regions of nature's beautiful domain.
They drink only from the purest fountains, and subsist upon
the choicest food their pellucid streams supply. Not to say
8f SALMONID^
that all flsli that inhabit clear and sparkling waters are game-
fish : for there are many such, of symmetrical form and deli-
cate flavor, that take neither bait nor fly. But it is self-evi-
dent that no fish which inhabit foul or sluggish waters can
be "game-fish." It is impossible from the very circum-
stances of their surroundings and associations. They may
flash with tinsel and tawdry attire ; they may strike with
the brute force of a blacksmith, .or exhibit the dexterity of a
prize-fighter, but their low breeding and vulgar quality can-
not be mistaken. Their haunts, their very food and manner
of eating, betray their grossness.
Into the noble Neepigon which rolls its crystal tide into
Lake Superior, sluggish creeks debouch at intervals, whose
inky waters, where they join the main river, are as dis-
tinctly defined as the muddy Missouri is at its confluence
with the Mississippi. In the limpid w^aters of the one the
silvery trout disport ; among the rushes that line the oozy
shores of the other, gaunt pike of huge proportions lie mo-
tionless as logs, and wallow in the mud and sunshine. Sure-
ly mere instinct should decide our preference between the
two species of fish, even if nature had not so plainly drawn
her demarcating lines. By the comparison the pike must
yield his place in the category of game-fish, even though he
be a bold biter and voracious. His habits are offensive, and
he feeds not on such food as make fish noble. Trout and sal-
mon cultivate the society of no such " frauds " as he. They
mingle voluntarily with none but the select coterie of their
own kith and kin, and carefully avoid the contamination of
groveling bottom-fish. They will not thrive in confined and
muddy waters, but die eventually, crowded out by their
brutish companions : or they become altogether demoralized,
losing their activity, their brilliancy of color, beauty of foim,
and delicacy of flavor. On nothing does the flavor and gen-
eral appearance of a trout or a salmon dopena so much as the
character of the water in which he lives. There is no flesh
of fish so rank and repulsive to the taste as that of a trout
BALMONIDiE. f^
inhabiting a muddy pond where pickerel, hull-heads and
slimy eels do congregate, and whose food are the slugs and
decaying animal and vegetable deposits on the bottom. Even
in waters which flow through cedar and tamarack swamps
or bo-^o-v meadows, the flavor of the trout is much impaired.
No matter in whatsoever locality he may abide, unless it has the
gravelly bottom and the clear cold water of the secret spring
or dashing stream, the trout will become degenerate, and bear
the traits and marks of the evil company he keeps and the
unhappy place he calls his home. It is these varying mai'ks
of body and tints of flesh, produced by extraneous causes,
that so greatly confuse the attempts to determine and classily
the apparent varieties of the Salmo family.
That very cautious and well-informed student, William
H. Herbert (Frank Forrester), speaking of the results of
careful scientific investigation, covering a period of many
years, remarks that " many varieties of Salmonidse which wer^
formerly supposed to be truly distinct, have been ^proved to
be identl ;al, and many new species discovered. * * ♦
Even in so circumscribed a territory as Great Britain, every
water of which has been explored, and, it may be presumed,
almost every fish submitted to the examination of scientific
men, great doubts yet exist concerning mar forms, whether
they are absolutely distinct, or merely casual varieties, inca-
pable of reproduction."
Since these words were written, twenty-two years ago, very
little additional light has been shed on the subject, and little
information gathered, excepting as regards the newly explored
territory of our new Northwest and the Pacific coast. In this
latter region the number of supposed distinct varieties is as-
tonishing. Vast numbers of fish differing in anatomical pe-
culiarities, species, and color, and changing much with age,
28 SALMONID^.
sex, and condition, season of the year, or quality of the wa-
ter, appal by their number and confuse with their variety,
rendering it almost impossible to classify them. Prof. Baird,
of the Smithsonian Institute, writes, November 1872 : " I do
not think there is any one living who could do this at present,
especially in the absence of a scries sufficiently extensive to
I admit of the necessary coniiarison. I am using every effort
to bring together the necessary specimens in order to have
this work done. The published literature of thfe subject is
entirely incomplete and unsatisfactor3% We have taken for
granted certain resemblances that did not actually exist, and
we must fall back upon an entirely new investigation, based
upon large numbers of specimens from many localities, and
represented by individuals of every age and sex."
The elementary principles of comparative anatomy are so
simple that a child may understand them. In respect to ilsh
I the species are distinguished from each other by the structure
of the fins, the shape of the gills, and the system of the teeth.
Any permanent or unvarying difference in these, coupled to
other varieties of color, form, habit, or the like, which might
seem casual, are held sufficient to constitute a distinct species.
The teeth.of fishes indicate as clearly their habits and mode
of feeding as do the teeth of quadrupeds inform the natur-
alist whether they are carnivorous, graminivorous, or rumi-
nating. In the same family of fishes the difference in the
' dental system is often very marked ; but in the absence of
reliable data as to age, sex, and other conditions necessary to
a comparison, the naturalist may well despair of making a
perfect classification.
Under the great generic divisions known as the Abdominal
malacopterygii, or those which have their fin-rays soft and
flexible, is classed the family of " Salmonidae," which are
characterized by an adipose, second dorsal fin. " No other
family has it " except the ^aZwriVZfl?, or catfish. Of the "Sal-
monidae " there are endless varieties and sub-genera — migra-
tory, non-migratory, and anadromous — which include those
SALMONID^.
do
designated as the Salmo, the Coregonus, the Thymallus or
Grayhng, the Mallotus or CapeUn, and the Osmerus or smelt.
The genus Coregonus includes the Attehawraeg or whitefish,
of delicious flavor, -which abounds in all the great lakes of the
Northwest, and is also found in Seneca and Cayuga lakes ;
the herring of Lake Huron ; the herring salmon, found in Lake
Erie, the Niagara Kivcr, Seneca Lake, and throughout the great
northv/est, and generally known, as the scisco of commerce;
and the misnamed " Otsego Bass." The Thymallus signifer,
or Arctic Grayling, is spoken of by one or two authorities as
a superb game-fish. Its average weight is six pounds. It is
found in the AVinter River (62d parallel) and the waters
that flow from the Great Slave Lake into the Arctic ocean. "
The whitefish is sometimes taken in Lake Champlain, in the
month of August, with what is known as the shad-fly. This
curious fly is lead-colored, about an inch in length, and makes
its advent in swarms like unto the flies of Egypt. It covers
the surface of the lake, and is washed upon the shore in wind-
rows three inches deep. The whitefish, or " shad " as they
are called by the local fishermen, take them with great avid-
ity. I have known this fish to take the fly in other locali-
ties.
However, of the varieties named none arc considered
" game-fish," or known to the sporting world as such. Prac-
tically they are of no value to the angler. The Salmo alone
merits his attention ; he is an opponent worthy of his met-
tle, and the angler who would entej the lists with him must
prepare to undergo hardships and toil that will test his man-
hood and powers of physical endurance. His geographical
range is included within a belt of thirty degrees width that
girts the entire northern hemisphere. It Kes between lati-
tudes 40° and 70°, and extends through Russian Asia, the
whole of Europe, and across the entire North American con-
tinent. He delights in cold water, and will thrive only
where the temperature is beloAV G0° Fahrenheit. As has
been remarked, the variety of his specieS is remarkable. Not
30
SALMONIDJE.
to mention other countries, we find no less than nineteen
varieties upon our Pacific coast alone. Dr. Suckley, TJ. S. A.,
in his official report (1855) on the surveys for the Pacific
Railway, gives a list of seventeen, peculiar to the waters of
Oregon and "Washington, which is appended herewith, with
their scientific synonyms, their local or vernacular names, and
the season of year when they run up the rivers to spawn :
SciKNTirio Synonym.
Vkknacular.
Time of Running.
Salmu
Quinnat.
Puucidens.
Spring Silver Salmon.
Weak- toothed "
April and May.
•i
May and June.
iu
Tsuppitch.
White
September.
ii
Argyreus.
Autumn.
hi
Truiicatus.
Square-tailed "
Mid-winter.
It
Gairdnerii.
Spring
Black -spotted Salmon Trout.
May and June.
ii
Gibbsii.
Not Anadfomous.
4i
Confluentas.
June.
4b
Scouleri.
Hooked-nose Salmon,
September and October.
>l
Gibber.
Hump-backed "
Sept. and Oct. in alt. years.
H,
Canis.
Dog, or Spotted "
Red-spotted Salmon Trout.
Novciaber.
Spectabilis.
Aurora.
Clarkii.
Midsummer and Autumn.
4k
Brook Trout.
44
44
Stellatus.
Lewisii.
44 44
Missouri "
Not Anadromous.
Thalcichthys Paciflcu8.
Eulachou.
-
To the above should be added the Salar iridea, or brook-
trout, the silver-trout, and the Ptyclioclieilus grandis, sal-
mon-trout — these varieties peculiar to California. Of the so-
called varieties of salmon, it is probable that several are
identical ; nevertheless, the best-approved authorities place
the number of distinct species at not less than half-a-dozen.'
The Salmo quinnat is esteemed the finest on the Pacific —
often weighs 30 or 40 lbs., and sometimes 75 lbs. ; the Sal-
mo scouleri will average 30 lbs. Magnificent as these
weights are, they have been equaled in eastern waters in
years gone by ; but of late our fish have greatly diminished
in size, both in the average and in individual specimens.
When the Northern Pacific Railroad is completed, the rod-
fisherman will find this Paradise of the Pacific easily access-
ible ; at present he must confine himself to Canadian waters.
There is not a river in the eastern United States that afibrds
SALMOIflDiE.
31
good fly-fishing for salmon, unless it be the Dennys River, in
Maine, which heads in Medeybemps Lake, and empties into
Passamaquoddy Bay. ■ •
Next to the lordly salmon, the common trout {Sa^nio /on-
tinalis) ranks highest in the esteem of anglers. He is so
widely known that further specification is unnecessary.
The "land-locked salmon" {Salmo gloveri), is a game-fish
of great repute, found only in the St. Croix, Schoodic, or
Grand Lakes, which divide Maine from New Brunswick ;
in the Union River, Maine, which lies between the Penob-
scot and St. Croix ; in the northern waters of Maine gener-
ally ; and in the Upper Sagucnay.
Of the thirteen species of Lake Trout given by Dr. Rich-
ardson, none are considered game-fish, as they seldom rise to
a fly ; but they afibrd good sport for trolling, etc. The best-
known varieties are the toag of Lakes Pepin, Moosehead and
St. Croix, the tuladi of Temiscouata and waters of northern
New Brunswick ; the common lake-trout {Salmo confinis) of
NcAv York and New England ; the Ciscovit of Ontario ; and
the Mackinaw salmon of the great lakes of the west and
northwest. The last-named {Salmo amethystiis or Salmo
naymacush) is the largest of his race, often attaining a
weight of seventy-five pounds ; his range extends far into
the Arctic regions. The Ciscovit {Salmo siskoivitz) attains
a weight of twenty-five pounds, and with his congeners, the
Scisco and Mackinaw salmon, constitutes a very considerable
item of Canadian export from the Province of Ontario.
None of the lake-trout possess that delicacy of flavor which
pertains to most other varieties of the Salmo family.
The Sea Trout or Tide Trout {Salmo trutta) is a superb
gam'e-fish, and is taken all along the coasts of Labrador, the
River and Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the maritime Prov-
inces. Some of the bays of Prince Edward's Island are
famous as its resorts. It is generally, though not always,
taken in salt water, and near the mouth of rivers.
The Sebago Trout {Salmo sebago) is a monster trout with
89 SALMONID^
all the marks and characteristics of the common brook-trout,
but much thicker and more " chunky "' in proportion to his
length, and often attains a weight of ten pounds. It is
found in Lake Richardson, Sebago Lake, Moosehead Lake,
and in Lakes Umbagog, Rangely, and other feeders of the
Kennebec and Androscoggin Rivers in Maine, and is direct-
ly allied to the Salmo confinis. In the Neepigon River,
which empties into Lake Superior, are two distinct varieties
of trout, one of which closely resembles the Sebago trout,
and the other the ordinary brook-trout. Both are of extra-
ordinary size, and afford superlative sport to the angler.
In Loch Lomond, near St. John, New Brunswick, there is
a fish known as the white trout, which differs in many re-
spects from its kindred, and is generally believed to bo a dis-
tinct variety.
The list herewith given comprises nearly all the known or
recognized varieties of Salmouidaj in America.
VL
Were the earnest seeker after knowledge to critically exam-
ine all the learned disquisitions on SALMOisr that have been
put forth since the days of Pliny by the best recognized
authorities, he would utterly despair of ever learning any-
thing. The whole subject — the habits of the salmon, his
food, his habitat, even his personal identity — would become
as much a mystery as the question of revealed religion, vexed
by the theologians of eight hundred sects. " Confusion
worse confounded " has always attended the controversies of
these learned doctors, who seem inclined to make, the sub-
ject a mystery, in order that out of its hidden depths they
may exhume and unfold to an admiring world the golden
results of their own profound investigations. And still the
great conundrum, " Wlieu is a salmwi not a salmon ? " hes
open for solution !
• SALMONID^. 99
•
To ordinary minds, under the light of mere common
sense, unaided by bookish wisdom, the sahnon appears to be
amenable to tlie same natural laws as other fish. Its species
are affected by food, temperature, etc., which govern its
migrations, its various seasons for spawning, and the time it
takes for the eggs to hatch. The simple student of nature
gathers his knowledge from wilderness streams or the arti-
ficial breeding-works of the pisciculturist — practical schools
where truths are learned, and fallacies set at naught ; where
dogmas of would-be scientists are overset by ocular demon-
stration. He recognizes in the salmon a creature, whose
existence, like man's, is divided into four periods — infancy,
youth, manhood, and ripe old age — and he designates these
several stages of fish-life ])y the names of Parr, Smolt,
Grilse, and Salmon. Observation has taught liim that one
portion of this existence is passed in salt water, and the re-
mainder in fresh ; that in salt water he feeds and grows fat,
and in the fresh expends his strength and vital forces ; that
these conditions are the necessary precedent and natural
sequence of procreation ; that many of his species die in the
attempt to reach their spawning-grounds, and many in the
act of spawning ; and that these arb the ordinary phenomena
of reproduction throughout the animal creation. It is also
evident that salmon must vary in size and general appear-
ance according to their ages; that adults maybe as dis-
tinctly and as variously marked as the kine on the lea, and
still belong to the self-same species. Along the coasts of
Nova Scotia old fishermen pretend to distinguish the fish
that belong to difierent rivers — it being a well-known fact
in the natural history of the salmon that they almost inva-
riably return to their native streams to spawn.
After they have ascended to their spawning beds, it re-
quires ten or twelve days to fulfill their mission, and they
then go back to the sea. It takes the ova three or four
months to hatch, according to the temperature, 45° being
perhaps the most favorable. In two months after the young
»
%
84 SALMONIDiE.
fry leave the egg they have grown to an inch and a quar-
ter in length ; in six months to three inches. At the end of
fourteen months one half the family have completed their
parr or infant stage, and go down to the sea as smolts, much
changed in their general appearance. The other half of the
family follow at the end of the second year, though a few
will remain until the fourth year. The smolt, in the nourish-
ing waters of the briny ocean gains a pound in weight per
month, and toward the close of summer returns to his birth-
place in the blue and silver livery of a giilse, and very like
a salmon in appearance. The grilse tarries in the upper
river until the following spring, and then returns again to
the sea a full grown salmon — three years being the time re-
quired to reach his maturity.
The season of the year at which salmon spawn varies ac-
cording to geographical locality and temperature of water.
For instance, in the Port Medway river. Nova Scotia, salmon
are taken with a fly in February when the ice is running,
while in the lower St. Lawrence they are not taken until af-
ter the middle of June. The time of spawning often varies
in the same river, and is determined by the period at which
impregnation has taken place. It is a pecuhar fact that the
salmon propagates its kind before it is adult, the males
only, however, attaining sexual maturity. A portion of the
" run" therefore, being riper than others, spawn sooner, and
having fulfilled their mission, return at once to the sea,
while their less fortunate kindred must continue their pil-
grimage, perchance to head- waters ; for so long as their great
work remains unaccomplished, they will press on until
stopped by insurmountable obstacles. Where the rivers are
short, the salmon return merely emaciated and reduced in
weight ; but in the Columbia, which, with its tributaries, ex-
tends for hundreds of miles, they die by milhons, worn out
and exhausted by their incredible journey. Such as reach
the upper spawning beds arrive in a mutilated condition,
with their tails and fins worn off", and their heads crushed
SALMONID^.
86
and almost shapeless. Fortunate are those which have vital-
ity enough left to bo able to return to the sea. Indeed, so
great is the mortality that it has been generally believed that
they never retuni at all.
Salmon do not cat while on their travels ; or if perchanco
they do feed at long intervals (as setting hens do when they
come off their nests betimes), they digest so rapidly that
nothing has been found in their stomachs in quantity suffi-
cient to determine what constitutes their favorite bill-of-fare.
It is only when resting in the occasional pools that they take
the angler's lure. At mouths of rivers, however, on the very
threshold of their departure for the upper waters, they will
take bait and red worms with avidity.
^ VII.
Anxiously docs the fisherman await the salmon's advent.
Twice a day the tide flows in and fills the bed of the river for
half-a-mile from its mouth, and when the ebb has followed ho
r;^ carefully scans the water as it flows limx)id and fresh from its
fountain-head. In the clear depths where the cuiTont has
worn a channel or hollowed out a trough, close to the bottom
he descries an object, motionless and scarcely distinguishable
from the oblong stones on which it lies. If he toss a bait in
there gently, just above it, ten to one he will hook a salmon !
The fish has not yet lost his appetite for substantial food ;
cast a fly over him, and it is doubtful if he even rises. Pitch
a stone at him, and he Avill quickly change his base, a little
surprised — perhaps move a rod further up the channel ; but
he will not run. He feels somewhat strange ; he has just
come in from a tour of the Atlantic, and is not yet accus-
tomed to his new quarters. He is unsophisticated — they
don't throw stones or skitter flies down in the recesses of the
Atlantic. He has never heard of the treasons and strata-
gems that beset the journey of the river. Well, he will learn
betimes. We will give him a lesson to-morrow, further up
80 SALMOKIDiE.
stream ; or at least wd will pay our respects tj his conirades,
for wo perceive that the "run" has fairly coninienced.
Should there bo a heavy niiu to-night to raise the river, wo
can promise fine sport. There is nothing like a freshet to
help the salmon on their way. It lifts them over the ine-
qualities of the bottom, and makes their rugged path smooth.
It lessens the difficnlties of the falls, and conceals their move-
ments from inqnisitive enemies. On a bright day like this,
Avith a medium stage of water, it requires some caution and
wary approach to insure tlie angler success.
Let US follow lip the stream a mile or two. The river is
narrower here, and more broken into alternate pools and
rapids ; the pools are black as ink, and the rapids run shal-
low. Pcl)bly bars, strewn with boulders, make out from tlio
hither shore, and force the greater volume of water into the
contracted channel which the current has worn under yon
precipitous bank. It runs like a mill-race there. Ha ! did
you see that salmon shoot up those rapiuo? No! look —
there's another ! Ah ! I perceive your eye is unaccustomed
to the "water. One of those Indians we saw down stream
could almost count the fish as they run by. Let us walk up
to yonder pool ; it is not deep, and we may see some big fel-
lows resting above the chute. Cautiously, my friend ! our
salmon has learned to be sly. There ! do you see those three
lying there in the middle of the pool, drawn up in line equi-
distant from each other, heads up stream, with the middle
one a little in advance of the others ? Whew ! off they go
like a flash, and half way up the next rapid by this time.
Did you ever see such yelocity ? They say a salmon travels
thirty miles a day when ascending a river ; but if he always
makes as good time as that just now, he ought to do it in an
hour. ...
En, avant ! Above here the river widens into a noble
pool which forms a little bay on this side. "We used to camp
on the bank there, and the grass has covered the old site with
a beautiful sward. By Jove ! there's a canoe — under those
SALMONID^.
37
bushes I Indian Joe's, I vow I Confound tlic rascal I lie's
gutting ready to set his nets in the pool here. Yes, and
there's his buoy out there, just at the edge of the quick water.
I had no idea the lish had been running, but you can't beat
an Indian at his own game. I shouldn't wonder if the
scoundrel was hidden in tlie brusli hereabouts somewhere.
" Halloa ! Ilal-loo-oo ! Come out of that, you Joe I it's
no use skulking I Ah ! there you are, are you ? Come here !
I say, Joe, salmon running ? "
"Dunno — mebby."
" Tried the river yet ? "
"Yes— try urn."
"Catch anything?"
" No catch 'em — break 'cm fly -rod."
"Where's 8am?"
"Dunno."
" Sam up river ? " .
" I suppose."
"Dipping?"
"I dunno."
" What you doing here ? "
" Mend um canoe — ho broke too."
" Here, Joe ; try a little whiskey. There ! how do you like
that? good?"
"Yes— good."
" Now see here, Joe. This gentleman wants to buy a sal-
mon — give plenty good price,— you know ? "
"Eh?"
" Sell um salmon — get money — understand ? "
" I suppose."
" Now, Joe, there's no use fooling. Tell me — have you got
any salmon ? » • • .
" Yes — got salmon."
"How many?" •
"One."-:'- -■• ^ • " • " .:■.'. V ;
"Where you got him?" • ' , '. ,
38 SALMONID^.
"Up here."
"Let's 800 him. IIo, hoi Sol you rascal, where did you
get these good half-dozen 'i Now, look hei-e, Joe, you can't
fool uio. JJo you BOO this mark around those lishos' siioul-
ders — and their tails split, too. You've been netting, you
scoundrel ! I'hero's your stake-buoy out yonder, and your
canoe here as sound as a nut, and not a hole in it. I've a
notion to bring you before the warden. If I catch you
again, I'll do it. Two dollars line or ton days' jail — do you
hear? Now, I'll take one of these sahnon along just to
keep my tongue (piiot. (Jood day, Joe; look out for your-
self."
Plague take these Indians. If they Avere not watched,
they'd destroy the river — stretching their nets across the
narrowest i)laces so that iiot a lish can pass up. Dipping is
bad enough, but netting is ten times woi'se. Up here at
"Kill Devil Hole" I'll show you how they dij) salmon. I'll
wager Sam is there now. Ah ! here we come to a long roach
of still water — fully a mile. See those salmon loai)ing — one
— two — three! AVhat somersaults they turn! I had no idea
they Avcre running \\\\ like this. The season is ten days ear-
lier than usual. It's of no use to throw a ily over them.
They won't take a fly Avhon they are jum])iiig. There is no
more rod-fishing until you get to the next pool above. See!
away up the river, whore it narrows so ? Don't you i)er-
ceivo the foam dashing through the gorge? That's "Kill
Devil Hole." I've seen a doxon Indians dijjping there at
onco, and fortunate was the salmon who could jjass the
gauntlet. There's Sam at it now! You see him standing
on the ledge, up to his ankles in the loam, steadily plying
that long-handled scoop. He dips it into the water mouth
downward, and the force of the current caiTies it on, and
gives it an impetus which enables him to lift it out without
much physical exertion. As the passage is narrow, and the
mouth of the net wide, the chances of the salmon escaping
are very precarious.
SALMONID/K.
30
Now, if you aro not too fatigued, wo will paws on to tho
falk It is tho most romantic i)oint on tho river. Thero is
nothing more exciting to tho novice than a school of salmon
ascending practicable falls, where tho waters aro churned
into foam as they tumble through the ujirrow gorge. Leap-
ing upward, over, and through tho seething current, turning
desperate llip-llai)s, diving preci|)itately into the foam, they
vanish and reapi)ear, gaining kidge after ledge until tho as-
cent is surmounted. At newly-erected dams, which are m
high as to l)o impassable, they collect in such vast (puintities
as to be scooped out with nets, each new arrival swelling (he
numl)crs already on the ground, and in their turn vainly
and repeatedly attempting to leap the cruel obstacle. Where
passes or lish-ways are ^jrovided, as they now are over all tho
principal dams of the New Dominion and a few in the
United States, the sahnon instinctively use them, and go on
their way rejoicing.
Should Ave i)ass on above the falls to head-waters a few
days hence, wo can easily observe the process of s])awning in
all its various stages. Wo can see the female lish in tho
rapid current of tho mid-stream, holding on with nervous
grip to tho pebbly bottom with her j)ectoral fins, and writh-
ing for a few moments in tho pangs of parturition ; then
lying motioidess, wilh muscles all relaxed, and shedding her
spawn into tho gravel which sho baa beaten loose with her
tail. Then tho males pass alongside of her, so near that
their bodies touch, and precipitate their milt to im|>regnato
tho spawn ; and wIkmi tho great work of nature is com-
pleted, the force of the current gently floats tho loosened
gravel over tho mass and covers it. Novices will suijjjoso
that tho trough, which sho has hollowed out with her tail to
loosen the gravel, contains the 8[)awn, whereas it is the little
mound just below that hides the precious treasure. Hence-
forward time alono must carry out the work of procreation.
Tho incipient germ gradually develops into a vigorous life,
and a new generation of nurslings succeeds to the i)aiTa*
40 SALMONIDiE.
•
estate, while the latter have passed to the degree of smolt,
and now for the first time begin to feel the monitions of that
instinct which will presently direct thera to the sea. To
the naturalist and the angler the habits of the salmon afford
a study which never wearies, but which renews itself in
brighter colors and more glowing attractions with the advent
of each returning spring.
As an article of food and commerce the value of the sal-
mon can haraly be appreciated, though much more now
than in those earlier days when they sold for a penny a-piece
on the Tay, or in the latter century, when laborers on our
own Connecticut were wont to stipulate that their landladies
should not give them salmon rations oftener than twice a
week ! It is only when we enter into investigations of the
statistical information on record, that we begin to conceive its
magnitude. In the United Kingdom the salmon production
is stated to be over 2,000,000 lbs. per year, equal to 400,000
lbs. of mutton. In the Dominion of Canada the production
for the year 1871 was nearly four million and a half of
pounds, divided between the Provinces as follows: New
Brunswick, 1,608,496 lbs. ; Nova Scotia, 1,286,979 ; Quebec,
including Labrador, 1,425,200. The salmon fisheries of
Newfoundland constitute a very considerable item in the
general account. On the Pacific coast the production of
salmon for export is a comparatively new branch of industry.
The annual yield is enormous, and forms the principal food
and support of all the Indian tribes of the coast and the in-
terior bordering the water-courses. With the extension of
the Nort.hern Pacific Railroad to Puget's Sound, this quan-
tity will be multiplied many fold, and doubtless legal restric-
tions will be instituted to protect the fisheries of the entire
Pacific region, and prevent the enormous waste that now re-
sults from direct and natural causes. The export returns,
actual and estimated, for the past year, show a total of
100,000 lbs., and a commercial 'value of $40,000.
SALMOKID^.
41
VIII.
Although trout {Salmo fontinalis) are found in all streams
frequented by salmon, save in rare exceptional cases, their
habits are in some respects so dissimilar as to require -brief
separate mention. The trout is not anadromous ; neverthe-
less, in streams which flow into the ocean, he is not averse to
occasional trips to the brine, where he grows fat and improves
in flavor and beauty. This is the case with the trout of Long
Island. On the coasts of Nova Scotia and Labrador I have
taken the common trout at the mouths of rivers side by side
with the sea trout, with identity so positive as not to be con-
founded with them. In one instance, in Labrador, I found
a small stream absolutely deserted by its tenants, and al-
though I plied my rod through all its length to its source, I
got no rise except at its mouth; yet I had previously taken,
and afterwards took them in quantities above. For the
most part, however, the foraging grounds of the trout are
in the fresh and limpid waters of his nativity. There he
feeds upon whatever the bottom or running stream supplies,
or whatever chance may cast upon its surface — feeds often
to repletion. Some anglers wonder why a trout will bite at
one time and not at another. They expect always to find a
well-fed trout at the point of starvation, and eager to swal-
low the first bait offered, no matter how glaring the fraud.
The well-fed trout is not only suspicions of traps, but nice in
his diet. Hence the necessity of discrimination in the selec-
tion of flies in anghng. I have seen a school of trout darken-
ing the bottom of a stream with their numbers, and refusing
every description of natural and artificial lure — fly, minnow,
grub, womi, and gi-asshopper in their turn, and finally rise to a
light green bud of pennyroyal, trolled athwart their fastidious
noses. At the same time the angler, wading cautiously in mid-
stream, might almost stir them with hisboots I There seems to
be no positive rule for the selection of flies, although the most
43 SALMONID^.
infallible lure is an imitation of the natural jBy last seen upon
the surface. The angler's true expedient is to change his
cast until haply he tickles the fancy of the fish he wooes.
One should possess skill enough to tie his own flies in cases
of emergency, and judgment to select his patterns ; but it is
better, as a rule, to leave this branch of the " gentle art " to
the delicate manipulations of professional fly-dressers. It is
probable that the present method of dressing a fly with the
hook entirely exposed to the keen vision and suspicious scru-
tiny of the fish which it is expected to deceive, will be ulti-
mately superseded. That accomphshed scholar and ardent
angler, John Mullaly, Esq., of the New York Board of Health
and late editor of the " Metropolitan Eecord," has contrived
a plan by which the lure is made to more nearly resemble
the natural fly. That monstrous appendage, the harled tail,
which exists in no species of fly, or of anything living or
dreamed of except the Devil, is hidden from sight and con-
cealed between the wings. At the same time the balance of
the hook is perfectly preserved, and the fly kept in its proper
and natural position upon the w^ater. If it be that fish are
so nice in their discrimination as to detect the slightest difier-
ence in the anatomy and color of the artificial or natural fly,
as some experts would have us believe, this innovation in
tying certainly gives the angler an advantage over his noble
opponent which he has not hitherto enjoyed ; and the salmon
will have to be more liberally handicapped than ever. Gierke
& Co., I know, regard this improvement Avith great favor. I
have also a little contrivance of my own which can be used
only in very rough water, and was so intended to be used.
It is merely a fly dressed in the ordinary Avay, with a bright
metal whirligig or swivel around its neck, which revolves
spoon-fashion in the current, and attracts attention. It is
very effective in the Grand Lake stream and the rapids of the
Upper Saguenay.
Trout are nomadic in their habits. Large fish are not found
at the head of a stream. As they grow in size, they constantly
SALMONID^.
43
shift tlieir places, moving down stream from time to time, and
leaving their old habitats to the smaller fry ; just as generation
after generation of men pass aAvay, and yield their places to
posterity. They have always theit favorite holes and haunts.
Catch them all out of this hole to-day and others will sup-
ply their places to-morrow. Colder water in this spot, or a
mineral spring of agreeable properties in that, may decide
their preferences; or the chemicals held in solution may
have the opposite effect, and repel fish from holes which to the
angler seem unexceptionable.
There is little to be said of fish and fishing that has not been
repeatedly told in books. It is vain to attempt a new varia-
tion upon the old tune. Still, a few hints gathered from
long experience may assist in the selection of a proper outfit
for a holiday cru ' ^e.
Setting aside all the minutiae of flies, fly-books, creels and
tackle, I cannot refrain from expressing an opinion as to
what a rod should be — a perfect rod — which is the first
requisite and great desideratum of the accomplished angler.
So many improvements have been made of late years in the
construction of rods that old stand-bys are laid on the shelf,
while rod-makers who long stood pre-eminent, are compelled
to yield a modicum of their prestige. I can reverence the
old sportsman who still swears by his Martin Kelly or Chev-
alier, or the superb implement of Bowncss & Bowness, of
London. Doubtless they are the best rods made in Great
Britain. Possibly they are superior to those made in this
country. Dingey Scribner, of St. John, New Brunswick,
makes a grecnheart rod which is held in high repute by Cana-
dians. The Michell Conroy and Terhunc rods, manufac-
tured in New York, are famous, and have long been deserv-
edly esteemed. Robert Welch used to make an excellent
rod. Probably the best Conroy is as perfect an implement as
can be constructed by the old-time materials of ash and
lance-wood. But of late years new materials have come into
use. The mahoe-wood or " blue mahogany " of Cuba, has
44 BALMONIDJa.
been found to combine all the qualities of toughness, strength,
and elasticity in a remarkable degree. Of it the springs of
volantes are constructed. But the material par excellence is
the bamboo sawed longitudinally, with the separate strips so
nicely adjusted and fitted together as to form an apparently
sohd piece. A " split bamboo " rod, such as is manfactured
by Andrew Gierke, of New York, possesses equal power
with any other rod, and is from thirty-three to fifty per cent
lighter.
Now, the creation of a perfect arch is the true philosophy
of rod manufacture, just as the management of this arch in
motion is the essence of scientific angling. The elastic pro-
perties of a rod should be evenly distributed and maintained
throughout its length from tip to but, so that when the rod
is bent, no variation from a perfect arch can be detected.
Metal ferrules, being stiff and unyielding, interfere with the
proper formation and play of the arch ; hence manufacturers
have sought to obviate the difficulty by making their rods
of three or even two joints, instead of four, as formerly.
Some have connected the middle joint and tip by a splice,
while others dispense with the ferrule altogether. The Scrib-
ner rod is made with a screw ferrule for the but and a splice
for the tip. The screw device renders loop-ties unnecessary,
while the femile prevents the joints from becoming shaky
by wear. Uniform elasticity being secured, the second requi-
site is stiffness — that peculiar power or force which, combined
with the elastic properties of the wood, produces a certain
yielding resistance which prevents the fish from exerting his
full strength on the hook, the leader, or the line ; for from
the moment a fish is hooked until he is landed, the arch of
the rod, either longer or shorter, should be persistently main-
tained ; the fish should be killed on the rod, not on the litie.
A horse cannot exert his strength to advantage with elastic
traces ; neither can a salmon overcome that mysterious force
which, ever yielding, never breaks. The third requisite of a
perfect rod is lightness. In this respect, all other things
SALMONID^.
45
being equal, the Andrew Gierke split bamboo of six splices
asserts and proves its superiority ; for, while an ash or green-
heart rod of the ordinary length of seventeen or eighteen
feet will weigh 2 lbs. 13 oz., a bamboo of equal length will
weigh but 1 lb. 8 .oz. This is no trifling advantage to the
angler who has a whole day's work before him. As every
veteran knows, each additional ounce tells painfully in the
long nin. That the merits of the Gierke rod are reasonably
appreciated is shown by written testimonials from English
professionals, including the veteran Frank Buckland, of
" Land and Water," who have laid their prejudices on the
shelf, and now regard the split bamboo as a sine qua non.
For myself, I have used no other material for fly-rods for five
years past ; and I have had the satisfaction of hearing the
best Ganadian authorities assert that my salmon-rod is the
finest they ever saAV. Single-handed trout-rods of split bam-
boo measure 11;t feet, and weigh from 6 to 8 oz. So light
and delicate are they that one would think them hardly capa-
ple of lifting a minnow, and yet I have seen them kill a
four-pound grilse ! These rods, it may be remarked, are ex-
pensive ; but so are first-class guns, for which sportsmen are
willing to pay as high as eighty or one hundred guineas.
Best ash and lancewood or greenheart rods can be had for
$20 to $25, while a bamboo trout-rod costs S40, and a salmon-
rod not less than 175. Scribner, of St. John, sells his salmon-
rods for $12. Salmon-rods of 21 feet are ponderous aflairs,
and now almost obsolete ; a man can do all necessary execu-
tion with a 17-foot rod. The only advantage of extra length
is, when a fish is hors du comhat, to lift the line more easily
over rocks and boulders. I have seen a Gierke rod throw a
measured seventy-six feet. Ordinarily forty-five feet of line is
enough for any cast. It is of great service, when making an
unusually long cast, to count the time for your back-line, as
singers do their rests in music, before bringing the rod for-
ward. One comes to do it instinctively at last. It prevents
tangling of the line or snapping off the flies. In raising a
46 SALMONID.T!.
long lino from the water, especially in a quick cun*ent, it is
of the greatest importance to first bring a gentle draft upon
it, to start it, and then withdraw it for the cast. It prevents
the rod from breaking. Another hint to beginners — invari-
ably look out for your back line. See that you have suffi-
cient casting-room before you raise your rod ; it will save
you the trouble of climbing trees, and lessen your premium
for Accident Insurance. Always have an extra cast around
your hat, ready for use. Don't forget your whiskey-flask ; it
keeps out the cold. *
•• IX.
In making up an Outfit for a summer campaign, I have
found the articles named in the list annexed very useful, and
most of them quite indispensable :
Kods, reels, lines, flies, bait-hooks, trolling-tackle, gaffs,
*landing-net, *bait-box, *floats.
Woolen and rubber overcoats, felt hat, extra ' pants, socks
and flannels, old shoes for wading, rubber leggings, extra
boots, *slippers or moccasins.
Hatchet, knife, pistol and cartridges, screw-driver, awl,
pliers, *gimlet, *emery, Avhetstone, twine, *vvire, *rope,
*leather straps, ^tacks.
Needles, pins, thread, wax, *scissors, *paper, *pencil, *rub-
ber. . ■:
Compass, matches in a bottle, *fuse, *candles, *spring bal-
ance, *corkscrew, *pocket-pistol, *field-glass.
Soap, towel, comb, *sponge, *looking-glass, *goggles, *linen
and flannel rags and raw cotton, to be used for cuts, wounds,
cleaning guns, mending, &c.
Pipes and tobacco, *card8, *maps.
Diarrhoea mixture, cathartic pills, *salve, court-plaster,
*ammonia, sweet oil, *fly and insect preventive.
Wire gridiron, coffee-pot, frying-pan, tin cup, salt and pep-
per box, tin plate, ' .
SALMONIDiE,
47
An india-rubber bag to bold the "kit" is a desirable addi-
tion to an outfit, as it makes a portable package, and keeps
its contents always dry. In summer a canvas camp-stretcber,
tbree feet by six, -with hems on each side for inserting poles,
to rest on logs or crotches at any required height from the
ground, makes a bed preferable to hemlock boughs. It is
cooler, gives better circulation of air, and is a protection
against creeping insects. Moreover, it can be used as a wrap-
per for the rubber bag, to prevent its being torn.
Now, hero are some eighty different articles, conducing
greatly to the comfort of camp life, which can be packed up
in small compass and carried on the back. Of course the
sportsman will be governed in his selection by the length of
his campaign. If he desire to travel as light as possible, and
has knowledge of woodcraft available, he can dispense with
those marked with an asterisk (*). Ho can even forego the
luxury of cooking and table utensils, saving the frying-pan
and coffee-pot. Birch-bark will supply him with fresh, clean
plates and cups at every meal, Avith no trouble to wash them;
he can broil his meat on a stick, and bake his fish and bread
in the ashes. Cedar-roots will furnish him with twine and
rope ; he can tear up his shirt for towels and handkerchiefs,
and use his coat-skirts to make seats for his trowsers. He
might even forego soap, and leave his hair unkempt till civil-
ization dawned again upon his semi-savage mood. But knife,
compass, matches and his pipe — these are wholly indispensa-
ble. Upon them his existence, comfort, and happiness de-
pend.
What! forego the luxury of a pipe ? Not much. Would
you ask the sportsman, after he has dragged himself into
camp, fatigued by an all-day tramp, drenched by soaking
rain, a-hungered, and thirsting for something hot to drink,
sitting alone in tlie sombre fastnesses of a pitch-pine soli-
tude, with ardent longings for the blazing hearth of home,
and vain regrets that he had ever wandered — would you,
could you ask him to forego the luxury of a pipe ? Would
48 SALMONID^U.
you dare, then and there, taking him in his ascetic mood,
read him a liomily on the noxious properties of tobacco and
the vice of smoking, and urge him to put out his pipe for-
F over ? Ah ! there is something in a pipe that provides a sol-
ace for miscellaneous woes, and smooths the path of daily
discontent.
My briar-wood pipe is my warmest of friends,
Its heart is aglow and its excellence lends
A solace and joy to my innermost soul,
As the incense floats otF from the ash-cinctured bowl.
In the smoke-wreaths circling upward little waifs of philoso-
phy hover with shadowy form, and smiling benignantly
down, bid us be patient, and help us to endure.
In the selection of provisions one must be governed by cir-
cumstances. Tea or coffee, flour, ham, salt pork, soda pow-
der, salt and pepper, in quantities required, are all that is
absolutely necessary. Potatoes and onions or pickles are an
i excellent relish ; and a city-bred man can hardly do without
butter. It is well to avoid overloading, even when traveling
on horseback or with a canoe. Much time and inconven-
ience are thereby saved, especially where portages or " car-
ries " have to be made. Rubber boots are a nuisance, and
should be left at home. Experience will convince the ang-
ler that hob-nail shoes are far more serviceable, if either
must be carried. For myself I prefer my cast-off shoes for
wading and for general use, if supplemented by a stout pair
of tight cowhide boots mth broad soles. I also prefer warm
cast-off clothing to fancy suits of velveteen, corduroy, or
frieze. One has this advantage, that he can throw them
away when he has done with them, or give them to his In-
dians or voyageurs, and thus go home light, with little to
carry beside his kit and the suit on his back. The expense
of a cruise will seldom be less than three dollars per day.
Indians demand from a dollar to two dollars a day and
found. Their services include the canoe. Canadian wages
SALMON ID^.
49
are higher, and the cost of a "shallop" varies according to
the conscience of thd owner. It is cheaper to buy a horse
and sell him again than to hire one, that is, if you wish to
use him several weeks. In Nova Scotia and New Bruns-
^vick wagons can be hired at $1.50 per day. Adirondack
guides demand $2.50 per day and upwards.
The best preventive against black flies and other noxious
insects is a mixture of sweet oil and tar in proportions of four
to one. It is perfectly effectual and not unpleasant or nasty,
as many persons imagine. Ammonia alleviates pain, and
removes the poison of insect bites.
Camp-sites should be selected for their access to wood and
water, and immunity from insects. Sandy beaches pr grav-
elly points are liable to swarm with midges or punkies, and
the thicker woods with musquitoes. Points where a breeze
draws up or down the river are the most desirable. Black
flies do not molest between sunset and sunrise. The camp-
ground being chosen, duties should be as equally divided as
possible, and assigned. The first duties are to fix the shel-
ter, cut wood, and " get the kettle boiling." The person
who cooks should never be required to cut the wood.
Tents are a great comfort when they can be conveniently
carried, or when the camp is to be frequently changed with-
out making long stages ; as, for instance, when fishing the
successive pools of a salmon stream. However, a good artist,
with hatchet and knife, will put up in one day a permanent
camp that will be storm-proof. As for temporary make-
shifts they can be made of birch or hemlock bark (when it
will peel) or brush, laid on crotch poles; or, for the matter
of a night, a screen of spruce boughs to windward, or the
canoe turned over to protect the chest and shoulders from
dew and morning fogs. The lee of a projecting ledge, with
a brush screen, is a dry and comfortable camp, even in cold
weather. I prefer it when I can get it ; otherwise, the canoe,
or a half-tent made of my rubber blanket. I have slept out
three months at a time,' and have never used a canvas tent
4
50 ' 8ALM0NIDi«.
in ray life. Ono who knows how cun always make himsell
comfortable in the woods even in mid-winter.
In traveling throngh unfamiliar districts, it is important
to turn fre<iuently and survey the ground behind, especially
if one expects to retrace his steps. A locality looks entire-
ly ditterent according to the direction traveled. It is also
prudent to '' blaze" the route by occasionally scoring a tree
or breaking a bush or twig. In following a blind trail, the
eye should always run casually in advance. If it is cast down
directly in front, the sign is lost ; if raised, the trail becomes
as plain as the milky-way in the heavens. There is scarcely
anything visible in the woods until one learns to see. Stand
still for a moment in the silence and apparent solitude, and
presently a chipmunk will start up from almost every
leaf, and woodpeckers peer cautiously from behind each
tree.
One never should be without a compass. In some per-
sons, animal magnetism is so strong that they determine the
cardinal points instinctively. Indeed there are individuals
who cannot sleep with their heads to the south, but instantly
detect a bed so situated. Backwoodsmen acquire by practice
and careful observation, a certain craft in reading signs which
is almost infallible. As a rule, but not always, moss grows
more densely on the north side of trees, nature providing
against the cold that comes from that quarter. But a more
reliable :sign is the limbs of trees, which grow longest on
the south side, those on the north side being exposed to the
wintry blasts which twist and scathe and stunt ihem. A
laurel swamp is the worst conceivable place in which to get
lost, and having once got into a scrape the surest method of
escape is immediately to follow the back-track out. In all
cases, when a man discovers himself lost, he should stop
short, and carefully consider the situation — the position of
the sun, direction of the wind, character of adjacent promi-
nent objects, &c., and then retrace his steps as nearly as pos-.
sible. As a general thing, he has never gone far before he
SALMONIDiE.
51
discovers his mistake. A quarter of a mile in a jungle or
strange forest seems a great distance. Kivers and streams
are certain highways to deliverance provided a person has
previously some idea of the general "lay of the land."
There is an advantage in travc'.ing alone, though gentlemen
socially inclined wiU prefer a companion. As two Indians
or voijageurs are required with a canoe, this makes a large
enough party ; and in most other circumstances, one's guide
is sutficent company. A single person can usually get a
" lift" by the way, a seat at a backwoodsman's table, or a cor-
ner to sleep in, when two or more would be refused. There
is always room for " one more," but not for a crowd.
X.
It becomes the second nature of a thorough sportsman to
note carefully all that transpires around him. His pursuits
and associations make him a close student of natural history.
By personal contact and observation he becomes thoroughly
conversant with the habits and peculiarities of the creatures
he pursues. He familiarizes himself with their haunts. He
gathers knowledge from every leaf, finds instructive sermons
in stones, secrets in the babbling brooks, and practical les-
sons of wisdom in everything. To him the Book of Nature
is an open revelation. From the crude materials which the
wilderness supplies, he learns to draw comfort for the body
and aliment for the mind. Torrid heat and Arctic cold
have no formidable terrors for him whose manhood has been
toughened by the hardships of out-of-door sports. He snaps
his fingers at vicissitudes which would appal those hearth-rug
knights whose inherent vitality has been quickened by sim-
ple toast and tea. His entliusiastic love of adventure leads
him far away from the beaten paths of civilization to the ut-
most confines of the habitable globe. Oftentimes he finds
himself the pioneer explorer of regions previously considered
terras incognitas. It would not be diflficult to prove that a
52 SALMONID^.
moiety of tlie geographical and scientific researches and dis-
coveries of the globe are due to sportsmen — sportsmen in the
truest acceptation of the word — heroes who have defied the
scathing heats of Africa, bored into the penetralia of the
frigid zone, cruised on the Stygian waters of the Colorado, or
climbed the dividing ridge of a great continent, and from its
summit viewed two oceans. Of si ch stern stuff was Audu-
bon, the hunter naturahst, who assumed habits as hardy and
simple as those of the wild creatures themselves, that he
might mingle with them and read them in their freedom.
Of such was Lord Dufferin, who left his couch of luxurious
ease and in his own yacht penetrated far into the hyper-
borean realm, defying the elements, and enduring the piti-
less breath of an Arctic atmosphere.
Conned over in the privacy of one*s inner thoughts, the
chequered experiences of the sportsman's life oft take shape
in words which, transformed to paper by aid of press and ink,
do make a book. Recorded in the simple language of truth,
these homely annals of the wilderness constitute a staple of
manly hterature which need not shame the authors. Where
shall be found such speaking photographs of forest life as are
delineated in the stupendous and magnificent works of Au-
dubon ? or such a combination of the aesthetic and beautiful
as appears in Bethune's Walton ? The experiences of Hum-
boldt, Kane, Herbert, Lord Dufierin, Mungo Park, Ross
Brown, Agassiz, Cummings, Gerard, Baker, Livingstone,
Prime, Trollope, Cozzens, and hosts of others, are they not
written in living characters that do honor to the name of
sportsman ? These furnish a mental pabulum far more en-
tertaining and instructive than the scrannel notes of so-called
literature upon which modem fashionable society gorges it-
self.
Sportsmen become authors almost perforce of circum-
stances which they themselves create. Cho'jk-full of informa-
tion obtained by personal research, anJ trl orying in new discov-
eries by land or sea, it is as natural for tiiom to publish to the
SALMONID^.
53
world in books the story of their experiences and investiga-
tions, as to recount their marvelous adventures and hair-
breadth escapes to eager listeners within the magie circle of
the camp-fire. If egoism is a prominent trait or blemish in
the sportsman's character, I crave for him the indulgence of
a pardon freely given.
Though his avowed pursuits be slaughter, and the taint of
blood be on his clothes, the sportsman is never cruel. He
hunts not for the mere enjoyment of taking innocent life,
nor to multiply trophies ; his impulses are those of calm and
clear intellection. With him the joy of free roving, of battle
with the elements, of pure air, of sunshine and of storm, of
penetrating the secrets of nature, and of successfully circum-
venting nature's cunning by artful counter-wiles — these are
the nobler purposes. He never feeds his passion to satiety ;
he is rather the conservator of the creatures he pursues:
Self-interest makes him their champion and preserver. He
has learned that he must not only protect them, but assist
the natural processes of reproduction if he would secure a
continuance of his favorite pastime. He recognizes their
tme value in the respective spheres they fill. He rigidly dis-
criminates between those that are noxious and those that are
harmless. Vermin he slaughters; but he lays no violent
hand on the songsters and those other creatures which fiimil-
iar intercourse and study have taught him render invaluable
service as scavengers and as aids to the husbandman, even
though some of them take liberal toll from the farmers'
crops. He makes the laws of nature his rule of conduct, and
subordinates his desires thereto ; he holds stated seasons
sacred to the work of propagation. He captures and kills
only after prescribed modes, and scrupulously spares the
young. He regards the offender against these reasonable
and judicious ordinances as his enemy, and is not merciful
in passing judgment upon him.
It is only within a few years that the true character and
good offices of sportsmen have begun to be properly appro-
54
SALMONID^.
dated in this countr/. They have been confounded with
the ignoble band of prowlers, poachers and pot-hunters, who
are most potent in scouring the country of everything that
flies, leaps, or swims. Let us hereafter do him justice, ac-
knowledge his worth, and accord to him that position he
deserves. We will esteem him for his aesthetic tastes, and his
selection of a pastime which invigorates, humanizes, educates,
and ennobles — which hardens the muscles and stimulates the
brain.
" 'Tis not from books alone Thought's pleasures flow —
They are but aqueducts which serve to bring
The stream direct (meandering else but slow,)
As fresh it wells from Pierian spring ;
But who would taste it pure at times must fling
His books aside, and turn to Nature's page,
Open alike to peasant, prince, and king —
To man untaught as well as learned sage.
And mid its lessons deep his ardent thoughts engage."
PART II
.jf'.
LONG ISLAND.
'HE waters of Long Island are familiar to few beside
tlie anglers of New York and vicinity, and although
3 extolled by them, would hardly be appreciated, I
fear, by the brotherhood at large. The most expert
disciple of Izaak Walton may have wet his line in
many a mountain lake and stream, ur purling meadow-brook,
and still have much to learn if he has never thrown a fly
where the saline breezes blow over the salt marshes of the
famed " South Side," or attended the roysterous opening of
the season on the 15th of March. For thus early, while in-
terior streams are bound by Winter's fetters, and snow-drifts
mount the fences, the waters of Long Island have been
released by a more southern sun and the tempering breezes
of ocean. The ebb and flow of tide have purged them of
snow-water, and the eager trout, after his long Lenten sea-
son, is glorious game for the sportsman.
Long Island is said to resemble a fish in shape — a remark-
able delineation of its physical character. Gotham experts
deem it the finest trouting region in the world for scientific
anglers, because none but skillful rods can take the fish of
its creeks and streams. Worthy members of the brother-
hood who are wont to steal a march upon the Culex family
in their annual trips to the north, may have taken at times
their fifty pounds of trout per diem in Adirondack or Cana-
58 LONG ISLAND.
dian waters ; but how can such cheaply earned success com-
pare for sport with the capture of a good half-dozen fish in
waters where a tyro could not, perchance, provoke a single
rise ? For, be it known, Long Island trout are educated.
They are not only connoisseurs in taste and epicures in diet,
but quick to detect a fraud ; they have been taught in the
metropolitan school which "cuts eye-teeth." The marshy
brinks of their brackish realm are as bare of cover as a floor,
affording no screen for stealthy approach. The most delicate
tackle, a long line deftly cast, with flies that drop as snow-
flakes on the unbroken surface — these are the sole conditions
of success. The application of my remarks is to creek-fish-
ing only — to the outlets of streams which head in limpid
ponds, whence, tumbling over artificial dams, and purhng
under spreading willows, they wind through sinuous chan-
nels to the Sound or Ocean. Of course the tide ebbs and
flows in them, and the water is salt ; but the trout are never-
theless the genuine speckled beauties of the mountains, in
full livery of blue and crimson, and much improved in flavor
by their access to the sea. They run in and out with the
tide, ard it is said that specimens have been taken in nets in
the bays, three or four miles from shore. In these creeks
one may angle without let or hindrance, though full baskets
cannot be expected. To no others have I the right to invite
the indiscriminate public. Bat there are magnificent pre-
serves and private ponds, where full-fed monster trout can be
caught by the score from boat or bank by inexperts, provided
they have access thereto by proprietary indulgence, or the
'* open sesame " of personal acquaintance.
Notwithstanding the insular position of Long Island, and
the sandy character of its soil, which extends in areas of bar-
ren plain over thousands of acres, its entire surface is diver-
sified by ponds nnd extensive swamps, which send forth copi-
ous streams, clear, cold, and sparkling. There are no less
than seventy of these streams. Most of them afford abun-
dant mill privileges, and some have been used as mill-sites
LONG ISLAND.
59
for two hundred years. The Peconic River is the longest,
measuring fifteen miles. These take their rise not only in
the central dividing ridge, but all along both chores above
and below the line of high water-mark, though they are
most numerous upon the south side. Nearly all abound in
trout. The most celebrated are Success Pond, Ronkonkoma,
Coram, Great Pond, Fort Pond, KiUis Pond, and the con-
siderable bodies of water at Smithtown, Carman's, Islip, Pat-
chogue, and Oyster Bay. Great Pond is two miles long, and
Ronkonkoma a mile and a half.
The unusual facilities and attractions which these waters
afford to sportsmen were recognized a century ago. The best
localities were quickly appropriated by private individuals,
who improved and stocked them at considerable expense,
and leased fishing privileges to city sportsmen at a fixed rate
per diem, or 1^1 per pound for all fish taken. Several were
subsequently secured by clubs, who laid out oniamental
grounds, built spacious club-houses, and added largely to the
original stock offish. The principal of these is the South Side
Club, near Islip, which comprises a hundred or more members.
But there is a coterie of fifteen gentlemen, who enjoy at
Smithtown the use of angling privileges equal to those of a
majority of the private preserves. They have four ponds, of
which the chief are Phillips' Pond and Stump Pond. The
former is noted for its big fish. Their domain is an old-
fashioned farm, which literally flows with milk and honey.
There are orchards that bend with fruit in its season, and
with congregated turkeys always in the still watches of the
night. Great willow trees environ the house, and through
their loosely swaying branches the silvery moon may be
seen glistening on the ponds. Through a wicket-gate and
under overarching grape-vines a path leads to the " Lodge,"
within whose smoke-grimed precincts none but the elect
may come! Its walls are hung with coats and old felt
hats, and suits of water-proof, with creels and rods, and all
the paraphernalia and complex gear of a sportsman's reper-
60 LONG ISLAND.
toire. Cosy lounges invite the weary ; there are pipes and
glasses for those who wish them ; and in the centre of the
room a huge square stove emits a radiant glow. In the cool
of April evenings, when the negro boy has crammed it full
of wood, and the smoke from reeking pipes ascends in clouds,
this room resounds with song and story, and many a stirring
experience of camp and field. No striphugs gather here.
Some who stretch their legs around that stove are battle-
scarred. Others have grown gray since they learned the
rudiments of the "gentle art." Might I with propriety
mentioii names I could introduce a royal party. To-morrow
they will whip the ponds, and wade the connecting streams;
and when their brief campaign is ended, you will see them
wending cityward vvith hampers filled with trout nicely
packed in ice and moss. • • •
Of pnvate ponds the most famous and richly stocked are
Maitland's Pond, near Islip, and the Massapiqua Pond at
Oyster Bay. Nearly all the ponds throughout the island lie
along the main highways, in many cases separated from the
road only by a fragile fence, but jealously guarded by tres-
pass notices, dogs, and keepers; and it has not infrequently
happened that some neophyte uninitiated into the mysteries
and prerogatives of Long Island fishing, has innocently
climbed the fence, and tossed his fly into the forbidden wa-
ters— whereby and in consequence hang tales of "withered
hopes," not to be repeated except on chilly evenings in the
ruddy glow of a blazing wood-fire, and then sotto voce.
In those earlier days of undeveloped locomotion, when the
Long Island Railroad was the grand highway between New
York and Boston, the only means of access to either side was
by occasional cart-paths that traversed the intervening plains.
Over these barren wastes hearse-like vehicles made quotidian
trips from the railroad stations. From Farmingdale to River-
head, throughout an area forty miles by six in extent, scarcely
a house or cultivated patch was seen. The only growth was
scrub oak and stunted pine, through which devastating fires
LONG ISLAND.
.61
ran periodically. Into the yielding sand the wheels cut
deeply, and the journey, short as the distance was, seemed
slow and tedious. Those who now gain easy access to either
side by the railroad facilities provided, have small conception
of the discomforts of the olden time. It is diflBcult to realize
the magnitude of the improvements made. Once across the
line that circumscribes these wastes, and the scene changes,
as if by magic, to one of thrift and plenty. Bursting barns,
capacious farm-houses, and smiling fields attest the exuber-
ance of the soil. City merchants and gentlemen retired
from business have seized upon the choicest spots within a
distance of fifty miles from town, and made them attractive
with every modem innovation and appliance. Even portions
of the barren wastes, which were regarded of trifling value,
have been reclaimed, and now " bloom and blossom as the
rose." On every hand are stately mansions, back from whose
well-kept lawns and embowering shrubbery stretch acres of
farm, garden and nursery, all under highest cultivation.
There are conservatories filled with rarest plants. Graperies
blushing in their fulness of purple and crimson, expose their
crystal fii9ades to the southern sun. There are trout ponds,
whose cost to form was by no means insignificant, with ar-
bors and kiosks dotting their grassy banks, wild-fowl dis-
porting along their margins, and pleasure-boats floating list-
lessly at their moorings. There are princely barns and car-
riage-houses, and stables filled with imported stock. Sub-
urban mansions 6f the city have been set down quietly
among the antiquated houses, quaint mills, shops, and coun-
try stores of the primitive inhabitants. New ideas and
modes of dress and living have been sown among the simple-
minded, yet there seems no jealousy or clash of interests. The
thrifty housewife in cap and gown and guileless of hoops,
looks out from beneath the yellow ears of corn and strings
of dried apples hung on her tenter-hooks, to the modern im-
provements of her neighbor, and sighs not for his flesh-pots
or his finery. Her " old man," in rustic garb and cowhides,
62 LONG ISLAND.
" talks horse " with the fast young men who drive down in
sulkies, and listens with some show of respectful attention to
the "chaif" of sportsmen in the tavern bar-rooms. He
hears the respective merits of rival rods and guns tenaciously
extolled, and politely nods assent when appealed to by the
earnest disputants ; but he seldom puts his " oar " in. These
little technicalities do not concern him much.
lias not the city-bred reader, while aestivating in some mland
farm-house, often longed for the little delicacies and conven-
iences of the city which were lacking there, desiring that de-
lectable combination of urhs in rure which would make per-
fection — a dash of champagne and oysters with his fresh eggs
and milk, for instance ? Well, if it be possible to find that
rare union anywhere, it is on the famed "South Side."
There are fresh veal cutlets, hog and hominy, beef, biscuit,
butter, eggs, milk, all raised or made upon the place and un-
polluted by huckster or market-man ; luscious trout fresh
from their element, with fried eggs, shad and flounders ; l)r()ad-
bill ducks, snipes and plover ; sponge-cake, doughnuts and
sparkling cider of the best selected apples. And the rarest
luxuries of th6 New York market are within easy reach ! The
table cutlery is unexceptionable, and the china innocent of
the omnipresent country blue. An attentive black boy
serves you. The guests are of the class, in fact often the
same persons, one meets at the Clarendon or Fifth Avenue,
and there is no smell of the barnyard or musty boots be-
neath the mahogany. And yet the room, the furniture, the
house and its appointments, are all of the primitive country
style. It is the same quaint old structure of seventy years
ago with its hugh fire-place where the great back-log flames
and smoulders. There are the same diminutive window
panes, the low ceiling, and elaborate wainscoting ; the laby-
rinth of passages, staircases, and pantries ; the tall Dutch
clock in the corner, the stiff-backed chairs and the mantel
ornaments of stufied birds and marine curiosities. Over the
bar-room door, beneath the porch, is the head and antlere
LONG ISLAND.
68
of a Long Island deer — one of the tribe of which a few are
still left to roam the scrubby waste lands of the Plains.
This is a simple pen-picture of the sportsman's rendezvous
on this " sea-girt isle."
Starting out betimes, when the tide serves right, we
anglers follow a narrow lane that leads to the marshes be-
yond, and leaping an old rail-fence stride forth upon the flats.
Before us stretches a wide expanse sere and brown, bounded
in the distance by the blue ocean on which a single white
sail is making an offing. There is nothing else to break the
dreary monotony save the distant masts of a couple of large
fishing-smacks which are high and dry upon the banks of
the creek in which we are to fish. The cold wind blows in
our fiices sharply, and whistles through our delicate fishing-
tackle now rigged and ready for use, and each heavy tramp
falls with a squelch and a splash on the marsh, and the short,
crisp, salt grass whisks up the blue ooze high on our boots.
Is this the poetry of the gentle art ?
Ah ! here is the creek at last. Whew ! how the wind
drives through its broad, deep channel, and throws up the
waves against its muddy banks with a cold goblin chuckle !
What a cast of the fly ! Away it whisks, clear over the creek,
and lodges upon the opposite bank. Foot by foot we cover
the creek as we make our frequent casts, but yet no rise. At-
length we take one trout at the bend — a small one ; after a
while another ; anon another, a little larger than the rest.
But, bless me if I like this sport ! This is not the trout
fishing I fancy. In my mind this pastime and the dark
forest, the whirling eddy, and the tumbling torrent are ever in-
separable. I would cautiously toss my fly under yon moss-
covered stump that throws its shadow over that pool, and
with drawn breath await the magnetic thrill which I know
will stir my nerves. I would trail it lightly across that
circling eddy just below the sparkling foam, or cast it under
that rocky arch where the water is black and still. I would
pause betimes, that the eye might measure the lofty columns
G4 LONG ISLAND,
of those towering hemlocks, or penetrate into the leafy recesses
of the darksome forest. I would watch the sun-flecks on the
water, or the tremulous leaves of overarcliing trees reflected
on the crystal pool. My feet would fain press the silky grass
that thrives in shade and sjiray, where the cascade tumbles
into the ravine. Here I listen in vain for the woodpecker's
tap or the harsh voice of the bluejay. Tliero is no hum of
bees or rasp of " Baw-cuts " at work in the decaying log. All
is dead, and cold, and drear. The effluvium floats up from
the salt marsh, and two Avild clucks are winging their way to
the ponds beyond.
Ah well! this is a raw April day, and perchance its chilly
breath has penetrated my soul. Very different is Long
Island pond-fishing in June, when the air is warm and balmy.
But it is the fashion among the experts of Gotham to take the
early fishing here, and one had " better be dead than out of
the fashion." I have heard it told of ambitious anglers who
ventured to inaugurate the season on the 1st of March, and
found the streams all closed by ice, that they did devote
much time to games of brag, and loo, and other such devices
of the devil, whereby they did little profit themselves, finding
also much cause to complain of headaches in the morning.
I cannot vouch for my authority, though I deem the charges
•not improbable, judging from certain manifestations not to
be misconstrued on several special occasions.
Taken all in all, I much doubt if there is any locality
where the angler may enjoy his favorite pastime with the
same luxurious ease as on Long Island. Very different is
the roughing it in the bush, with all its hard vicissitudes.
If any stranger desires to test or taste the quality of the fiph-
ing here, let him first try the Cedar Swamp and New Briuge
creeks at Oyster Bay ; then, if time and inclination serve, go
on to Patchogue and put up at Austin Roe's hotel, where
he will receive the attentions of a landlord of a thousand
acres, who owns rights in nearly all the trout ponds and
creeks in the neighborhood. There he can fish ad libitum,
LONG ISLAND. 65
and free of clmrj^e, and take home with him nil the tish liis
luek or skill may bring to his ereel. There is no more
l)lcasant or proti table way of spending a two weeks' vacation
than to take a horse and wagon, fill it with provender and
eciuipments, and make a round trip of the entire Island, stop-
ping at the various fishing-grounds by the way. The roads
are for the most part good ; and when the tourist has passed
through Babylon, Jerusalem, and Jericho, and loft the wes-
tern half of the island behind him, he will find himself among
a community living in primitive simplicity, who have pos-
sessed the land for nearly two centuries and a half,— upright,
'■% God-serving, well-to-do farmers, who go barefoot and eat
with silver spoons — men who have seldom traveled beyond
the limits of the townships in which they were born, Avhom
cares of state do not perplex, and whose ancestors were the
original purchasers of the land from the aboriginal owners,
with whom they always lived in peace.* There he will find
a remnant of the Indian tribes themselves, and discover
traces of their ancient burial grounds and fortifications.
He will discover a nomenclature new and strange, and curious
geological freaks ; ponds with no visible outlets that rise and
fall with the tides ; sand-hills one hundred feet high that
shift with every gale that blows; fantastic cliffs and singular
tongues of land ; gi'oups of islands, between which the ocean
currents set like a mile-race ; skeletons of wrecks imbedded
in the beach; graveyards with one hundred head-stones
sacred to entire ships' crews who perished on the strand.
A peculiar and fortune-favored people are the Long Isl-
anders, who know how to enjoy life in a quiet way, and do
^mve an unusual variety of its good gifts convenient to their
inds. The railroads now bring them the daily papers from
* The g:enealogical records of the author's family show that his
paternal ancestor bought at Southold, in 1640, the first piece of land
ever obtained from the Indians ou the eastern end of Long Island.
He originally belonged to tlie New Haven colony,
5
66 LONG ISLAND.
the city, and whatever luxuries the great emporium affords.
The intervening plains furnish an occasional saddle of veni-
son and a great variety of feathered game. The fertile belt
of land which girts the island yields of its abundance — its
grain-fields, its gardens, its orchards, and its live-stock.
Water-fowl and fresh-water fish throng its ponds and
streams, and the broad salt marshes afford an excellent
shooting-ground for sportsmen. Beyond them the ocean
rolls up its surf on the outer beach, while within the shel-
tered bays the most delicious fish and shell-fish arc found in
profusion. The long, level roads offer the rarest opportuni-
ties for driving and trotting, and the bays for bathing, boat-
ing, and yachting.
The James Slip Ferry connects with the Long Island Eail-
road at Hunter's Point, and the Grand and Roosevelt Ferries
with the South Side Railroad. The entire journey to Green-
port is made in about four hours.
THE ADIRONDACKS.*
(AST summer the New York Timefi published an ar-
ticle deprecating the " ruinous publicity " given by
Rev. W. H. H. Murray to the sporting attractions
of the Adirondacks, and lamenting that this excep-
tional region should have " fallen from that estate of
fish and solitude for which it was originally celebrated." Rail-
roads, stages, telegraphs and hotels, it says, " have followed
in the train of the throng who rushed for the wilderness. The
desert has blossomed with parasols, and the waste places are
filled with picnic parties, reveling in lemonade and sardines.
The piano has banished the deer from the entire region, and
seldom is any one of the countless multitude of sportsmen
fortunate enough to meet with even the track of a deer."
The writer rejoices, and with reason, that Canadian forests
are yet undesecrated, and are likely to rema.in so, " unless
some malevolent person writes a book upon the subject, giv-
ing to the indiscriminate public the secrets that should be
reserved for the true sportsman and the reverent lover of
nature."
It is not without a careful consideration of the question in
all its aspects, that I have ventured to publish my Reference
Book. Jealous as I am, in common with all sportsmen, of
* See Harjjer's Magazine, Vol, XLL, page 321.
68 THE ADIRONDACKS.
sportsmen's secrets, and restrained withal by the instincts
0^ self-interest, I should hesitate to reveal them, were it not
that concealment is no longer a virtue. The considerations
that permit pubUcity are these :
In the first place, the several great railway routes that
have been recently completed or are now in progress — the In-
tercolonial, the European and North American, and the va-
rious Pacific roads — are opening up to tourists and sports-
men regions hitherto inaccessible. Civilization and its con-
comitants inevitably follow in their train, and hidden places
become open as the day. What would the negative force
of silence avail to hinder or prevent ?
There is not much danger of the musquito swamps and
inaccessible fastnesses of the Adirondacks being invaded by
" good society." The crowd comes only where the way is
made easy, and because it is easy. It follows the natural
water-courses and avoids the tedious "carries." It halts
where the sporting-houses invite, and selects those which
provide the most abundant creature comforts.
Murray's book attracted its crowds, not because a legion of
uninitiated sportsmen and ambitious Amazons stood waiting
for the gates of some new Paradise to open, but because it
presented the wilderness in new aspects and fascinating
colors. It shower* how its charms could be made enjoyable
even for ladies. It was a simple narrative of personal
experience and impressions, written con amore, with a vigor
and freshness that touched a sympathetic chord in the
hearts of its readers. It aroused a latent impulse and pro-
vided a new sensation for those who had become surfeited by
the weary round of watering-place festivities. And it has
accomplished much good by encouraging a taste for field
sports and that health-giving exercise which shall restore the
bloom to faded cheeks and vigor to attenuated valetudina-
rians.
What though the door-posts of Adirondack hostelries be
penciled o'er with names of those who fain would seek re-
THE ADIRONDACKS.
Gl)
nown among the list of mighty Nimrods ; what though the
wilderness blooms witli radiant parasols, and pianos thrum
throughout ^ e realm ; there yet is ample room for the sports-
man, and solitude sufficient for the most sentimental lover
of nature. The very contour of the land makes roads im-
practicable. It is everywhere broken up into mountain
ranges, groups, and isolated peaks, interspersed with innu-
merable basins and water-courses, nearly all connecting.
These are the heads and feeders of numerous rivers that
flow to every point of the compass, and after tumbling down
the lofty water-shed in a series of rapids, fall into the lakes
or ocean. These are the sources of the Hudson, the Oswa-
gatchie, Black River, Raquette, St. Regis, Ausable, and Sar-
anac. It is only where a valuable iron deposit makes it pay
to surmount the natural obstacles, that some solitary
tramway penetrates into the heart of the mountains.
The few fertile districts and tillable spots are likely to re-
main unoccupied forever for lack of highways to a market,
unless, perchance, the growth of succeeding centuries drives
an overflowing population to the very crags of this American
Switzerland.
It has been proposed to make a national park of this
grand domain, and dedicate it forever to sports of forest,
lake, and field. Why not ? Here is a territory of three mil-
Uons and a half of acres, or five tiiousand square miles —
larger than the state of Connecticut. Let the disciples of
the rod and gun go up and possess the land. Let the girls
romp. Let the pianos thrum Let the wild-wood ring
with the merry laughter of healthy women — real flesh and
blood women who will make wives too good for the sour as-
cetics who would fain frown them out. Precious indeed in
these cloudy times of- irksome servitude are the holiday
hours we snatch, sparkling with dew and sunshine, from tho
beatitude of the better day. And what more genial
warmth can the sportsman find than the female welcome
70 THE ADIRONDACKS.
that greets him from the long piazza when he returns from
his exile in the woods !
The borders of the Adirondack Wilderness are accessible
at various points by tolerable roads which branch off from
the main thoroughfares of travel. Dr. Ely's Map, published
by Colton, 172 William St., New York, gives minutest infor-
* mation as to distances, interior routes, " carries," hotel and
stage accommodation, etc., and no tourist should be without
'}ne. I have found it remarkably accurate in all its details,
though slight corrections are sometimes necessary. For im-
mediate reference, however, the subjoined directions will prove
useful and reliable :
From the southwest the approach is via Boonville, on the
Utica and Black River R. R. A wagon-road (so called) leads
directly to the Fulton chain of lakes, in the very heart of
what is known as " John Brown's Tract "; but it is practi-
cable for wheels only for about fourteen miles, or a little be-
yond Moose River. Thence to Arnold's old sporting-house,
eight miles, the success of the journey must depend upon
one's ingenuity in surmounting obstacles. The difficulties of
the way are graphically portrayed by the pen and pencil of
T. B. Thorpe, in the 19th volume of Harper's Magazine;
though the road has been considerably improved since the
article was published. Some few boulders have sunk into
the mud, and trunks of trees that then crossed the road have
rotted away, so that it is no longer necessary to go around
them. Consequently the distance is somewhat shortened,
and the road made more level. From Arnold's there is a
navigable water-course all the way to Raquette Lake, a dis-
tance of thirty miles, broken by three portages or " carries,"
whose aggregate length is two and three-quarters miles.
Indeed there is a continuous water-course by way of Raquette
Lake, as will presently be shown, all the way to the northern-
most limit of the Adirondack region. This " John Brown's
Tract " is about twenty miles square and contains 210,000
acres. As is well known, it was once the seat of very consid-
THE ADIRONDACKS.
71
erable irou-works which afterward failed in the fulfillment of
a promise of lucrative profit, and were abandoned. Arnold's
house is a relic of those ancient improvements. It is one of
the finest fishing and hunting grounds in the whole section,
though here, as elsewhere, the sportsman must turn a little
aside from the main thoroughfare if he would find reward
commensurate with his endeavors. The adjacent country is
hilly, though not strictly mountainous ; but there is an iso-
lated peak called " Bald Mountain," which is everywhere the
most prominent feature of the landscape. From its summit
there is a panorama of magnificent extent. Fourth Lake
with its green islands occupies the central position, stretching
away for six miles through an unbroken forest whose farthest
limit is a blue mountain range delicately limned upon the
horizon. There is a comfortable hous^ near the foot of the
mountain where parties proposing to ascend can find an
abiding-place.
From the went there are entrances to the Wilderness via
Lowville and Carthage, stations on the Black River Railroad,
by tolerable wagon roads which converge at Lake Francis, a
distance of eighteen or twenty miles ; thence by road and
stream twenty-two miles to Beach's Lake, and thence nine
miles to Raquette Lake. This route is not much traveled,
and the sport will not pay for the hardships of the journey.
Booneville is the better starting-point.
From Potsdam, on the north, there is a very good winter
road all the way to " Grave's Lodge " on Big Tupper Lake,
whence all parts of the Wilderness are accessible by boat.
The summer route is from Potsdam to Colton, ten miles by
stage ; thence by good wagon road twelve miles to McEwen's,
on the Raquette River; thence six miles to' Haw's, with a
very short portage ; thence six miles and a half by road to
the "Moosehead still water"; and thence fifteen miles by
water to the foot of Raquette Pond, from which there is
water communication with Big Tupper and all other points
north and south. From McEwen's to Raquette Pond the
72 THE ADIRONDACKS.
river is broken by a snocession of rapids and falls, around
which boats must be carried. Notwithstanding the fre-
quency of the portages, and the vexatious changes from
wagon to stream, this is a favorite route for sportsmen, for
the adjacent country abounds in fish and game. Visitors to
this section do nut, however, generally go through, but camp
at ehgible points, or put uj) at Pelsue's, Haw's, Ferry's, and
other houses below the Piercefield Falls. On the other hand,
visitors from above seldom descend as far as Piercefield.
Entering from the north at Malone on the Ogdensburg
and Northern Kailroad, after a fortnight spent at Chazy and
Chateaugay Lakes, the ro"te is by the east branch of St.
Regis River to Meacham Pond, famous for its trout and its
beautiful beach, and thence by stream through Osgood's
Pond, with a half-mile carry to Paul Smith's, on the lower
St Regis Lake, the preferred and best-known starting-point
for the interior Wilderness for all visitors from the east. It
is the easiest and shortest route, and affords fine fishing the
whole distance. There is also an excellent wagon road from
Malone to Martin's, a favorite hotel on the Lower Saranac —
distance Iifty miles.
From the north-east there is a railroad twenty miles long
from Plattsburg to Point of Rocks, Au sable Station, on the
Ausable River, whence lines of Concord stages run daily over
excellent roads to Paul Smith's and Martin's, diverging at
Bloomingdale, the post-office nearest to either point. The
distance by stage is about forty miles. The same stages also
run from Port Kent, on Lake Champlain, through Keese-
ville to the railroad terminus at Point of Rocks, a trip of thir-
teen miles. By this route a great deal is saved in distance ;
but thirteen miles of staging are added, and nothing is gained
in time, as the stage:: all connect with the railroad trains.
Whether the tourist leaves the steamer at Port Kent or con-
tinues to Plattsburg, he will have to remain at a hotel over
night. The Wetherill House, and Fouquet's Hotel, at Platts-
burf ,, t'^flbrd the traveler every luxury, and at the Ausable
THE ADIRONDACKS. 73
House, Keeseville, there is excellent accommodation. Both
places are reached by steamer from Whitehall and BurUng-
ton, and also by railroad from Montreal. Tourists often take
the Keeseville route in order to visit the celebrated chasm
of the Ausable Eiver, a magnificent mountain gorge of most
romantic effects and picturesque scenery. There is also a
route to Saranac Lake from this point, which passes through
Wilmnigton Notch and skirts the base of "Whiteface Mount-
ain," and thence continues on through North Elba, where
may be seen the tomb of John Brown, of Harper's Ferry
renown. There is a road to the top of "Whiteface," whence
can be had an illimitable view of the Wilderness. This route
altogether affords the most remarkable and varied sceneiy to
be found in the Adirondacks ; and a visit will well repay
those lovers of nature who have never yet " wet a line " or
"drawn a bead on a deer."
E^ the other route there is a romantic bit of scenery at
the Franklin Falls of the Saranac ; but its natural charms
are disfigured by one of those utilitarian improvements, a
saw-mill. Here is the " half-way house " where passengers
for Smith's and Martin's dine. Two seasons ago, while in-
dulging in a post-prandial cigar, I took the trouble to count
the names on the little hotel register, and found that they
numbered fifteen hundred! and the season was only half
over. These, however, included those going out as well as
those going in. (When a man is headed for the Wilderness,
he is said to be "going in.")
There are two other routes from the east, namely, from
Westport, and from Crown Point, on Lake Champlain. Both
of these take the visitor into the heart of the mountains, the
birth-place of winds and the nursery of snow-fed river-sources.
Here old " Boreas Mountain " dwells ; here is Boreas Lake,
the fountain-head of Boreas River. Here also are Lakes
Sanford, Henderson, and Delia, which are often resorted to
by pertinacious sportsmen ; but as these are more accessible
from the south by the old Fort Edward stage-route, or the
74 THE ADIRONDACKS.
Adirondack Railroad, which is now extended to North Creek
Station, sixty miles from Saratoga, the above-named routes
are seldom used.
The Fort Edward road leaves the Saratoga and Whitehall
railway at the station of that name, and extends to Long
Lake, a distance of seventy-five miles, touching Lake George
at Caldwell, Schroon Lake at Potterville, and passing within
easy access of Lakes Delia, Sanford, Henderson, Harris, and
Catlin.
From the south, access is had to Eound Lake and Lakes
Pleasant and Piseco — the well-stocked waters of the famed
" Piseco Club " — by a good wagon road which leaves Little
Falls or Herkimer on the New York Central Railroad. The
distance from Herkimer to the head of Piseco Lake is fifty-
two miles.
The foregoing make up a list complete of all the highways
into tlie Adirondack Wilderness, with two exceptions. One
is a road to " Joe's Lake " in the lower part of Herkimer
county, which leaves the town of Prospect, on the Black
River Railroad ; and the other a boat route from Clarksboro,
on the Grasse River, to Massawepie Pond at its head. Clarks-
boro is an iron region at the terminus of a branch of the
Watertown and Potsdam Railroad. Massawepie Pond is
within striking distance of the Raquette River, near Pierce-
field Falls, and is visited by old hunters who mean business,
and are not afraid to camp out or follow a blind trail through
the woods. There are plenty of deer and trout there for
those who will hunt them in their season. Massawepie is acces-
sible also by the old Potsdam wagon-road to Tupper's Lake.
The "circumbendibus" route generally taken by ladies
and gentlemen who purpose "doing" the Adirondacks
thoroughly, is from the foot of the Upper Saranac Lake,
three miles over the " Sweeny carry " to the Raquette River ;
thence through Big Tupper Lake and stream, via Round
Pond, to Little Tupper Lake ; thence through a series of
little ponds and connecting streams, with one three-mile
THE ADIBONDACKS. 76
carry, to Forked Lake ; thence carry a mile and a half to
Raquette Lake, the southernmost point of the tour. From
Raquette Lake into Long Lake, witli three short " carries,"
thence through Raquette Kiver, Stony Creek, and Stony
Creek Pond, with a mile " carry," back to Upper Saranac
Lake. From thence visitors for Martin's carry over at
Bartlett's through Round Lake to the Lower Saranac ; for
Paul Smith's, they continue through the Upper Saranac to
Big Clear Pond, with a forty rod " carry " ; thence carry a
mile and a half to the Upper St. Regis Lake, and thence
through Spitfire Pond to headquarters on the Lower St.
Regis.
There are several routes that diverge from the main route
at various points, those most in favor being from Raquette
Lake fourteen miles to Blue Mountain Lake, the most beau-
tiful of all the Adirondack waters ; from Big Tupper Lake,
with a three-mile carry from Grave's Lodge to Horseshoe
Pond, Hitchins' Pond, and a labyrinth of lakes and ponds of
greater or less extent ; and from the Upper Saranac through
Fish River to Big Square Pond ; thence, with a half mile
carry, through a series of small lakes to Big and Little Wolf
Ponds, Raquette Pond, and Big Tupper; and thence return
l^y Raquette River to Upper Saranac. The two last-named
regions are equal for game and fish to any in the country,
and the Hitchins Pond district is perhaps the best.
Boats from Paul Smith's can traverse 160 miles of lake and
stream.
Paul Smith's has been very appropriately styled the " St.
James of the Wilderness." It has all the " modern improve-
ments " except gas. A telegraph wire connects it with the
outer world. It has commodious lodgings for nearly one
hundred guests, and in the height of the season will accom-
modate many more than it will hold. Sofas and tables are
occupied, tents are pitched upon the lawn in front, and
blankets are spread on the floor of the immense Guide House,
itself capable of lodging some sixty or more guides. And
76 THE ADIR0NDACK8.
each guide has his boat. Beautiful crafts they are, weighing
from sixty to eighty pounds, and drawing but three inches
of water. Most of them carry two persons, some of them three.
A guide will sling one of them upon his back and carry it
mile after mile as easily as a tortoise carries his shell. When
the carries are long, wagons and sleds are in readiness to haul
them from landing to landing ; but few are the guides that
Avill refuse to back them over for the price of the carriage.
Great is the stir at these caravansaries on the long summer
evenings — ribbons fluttering on the piazzas ; silks rustling in
dress promenade ; ladies in short mountain suits, fresh from
an afternoon picnic; embryo sportsmen in velveteen and
corduroys of approved cut, descanting learnedly of backwoods
experience ; excursion parties returning, laden with trophies
of trout and pond lilies; stages arriving top-heavy with
trunks, rifle-cases, and hampers; guides intermingling,
proffering services, or arranging trips for the morrow ; pistols
shooting at random ; dogs on the qui vive ; invalids, bundled
in blankets, propped up in chairs; old gents distracted,
vainly perusing their papers ; fond lovers strolling ; dowagers
scheming; mosquitoes devouring; the supper-bell ringing,
and general commotion confusing mine host. Anon some
millionnaire Nimrod or piscator of marked renown drags in
from a weary day with a basket of unusual weight, or per-
chance a fawn cut down before its time. Fulsome are the
congratulations given, manifold the acknowledgments of his
prowess. He receives his honors with that becoming dignity
which reticence impresses, and magnificently tips a twenty-
dollar note to his trusty guide. The crowd look on in ad-
miration, and vow to emulate the hero. After supper there
is a generous flow of champagne to a selected few upon the
western piazza, and the exploits of the day are recounted and
compared. The parlors grow noisy with music and dancing ;
silence and smoke prevail in the card-room. This is the daily
evening routine.
At early dawn of morning camping parties are astir.
THE ADIRONDACKS. 77
With much careful stowage aud trimming of ship, the
imjjedimenta of the voyage are placed in the boats. Tents,
blankets, cooking utensils, provision hampers, rods, guns,
demijohns, satchelsj and overcoats are piled up amidships.
A backboard is nicely adjusted in the stern for the tourist,
who takes his seat and hoists his umbrella. The guide deftly
ships his oars, cuts a fresh piece of tobacco, and awaits ordei-s
to start. Singly, and by twos or threes, the boats get away ;
cambric adieus are • waved by the few receding friends on
shore, and the household of St. James is left to finish its
slumbers till summoned to breakfast at 8 o'clock. Delicious
and vivifying is the pure morning air ; grateful as a mother's
lullaby the long sweep of the oars ; enchanting the shiiting
scenery and ever-changing outline of shore. In a dreamland
of listless and "sweet do-nothing" the hours lapse away.
Cigar after cigar melts into smoke. Lunch is leisurely eaten
meanwhile. Through the outlet of one lake into the next,
winding through many a tortuous stream, gliding past many
an islet, with one boat ahead and another astern, and the
mechanical oars dripping diamonds of spray that flash in the
sun — what can be more deliciously pleasant — what freedom
from anxiety and business cares so complete !
" Hallo, guide, what's that ? Struck something ? Good
gracious, you aint going to stop here in this sedge-grass I
Why, the pesky mosquitoes are thicker than lightning.
Whew ! I can't stand this ! They'll eat us alive."
" Got to carry over here, mister. It's only a mile and a
half!" •
A mile and a half to tramp through woods, mud and mos-
quitoes! ...-,"'
Ah ! the lake once more ! This is bliss ! What a relief to
get on the water again, and away from the mosquitoes!
How clear it is! What beautiful shores! Anon into
the noble Kaquette, with trees overarching, current slug-
gishly flowing, still waters running deep. Just here the
current is swifter. Toss your fly in, where it breaks over
78 THE ADIRONDACKS.
that rock. A trout! Play hiiu well — a large fellow, too!
Well landed — no time to stop long — we'll pick them out as
we proceed. The trout always lie among the rocks, in the
quick water, at this deason. A fortnight later they will be
at the mouth of the cold brooks that flow into the main
stream. Look ! boats coming up — So-and-so's party — been
camping down at Long Lake. What luck ? lleport us,
please. Ah ! whose house is that ? Stetson's. We'll stop
when we return. The Saranac at last! What i magnificent
sheet of water ! What beautiful islands! See those tents.
Why, I can count n dozen along the shore. I had no idea so
many were camping out. Bartlett's, at last! We tarry here
to-night. What a place for trout! Two years ago, just in
there, above the dam, where you see that rock in mid-
stream, I hooked a lake-trout on the tail-fly of an extraordi-
nary long cast ; they say a lake-trout won't rise to a fly. He
did, though, and took it handsomely. I never had better
sport in my life. He amused me for half an hour, and when
1 had him landed, he weighed four pounds and a half 1
was proud to kill that fish on my eight-ounce bamboo.
Pleasant is the voyage around the route. Each day's ex-
perience differs from the last. New scenery constantly opens
to view. Friendly parties and familiar faces are constantly
met. And one need not camp out at all, if indisposed. The
guide will arrange to stop at a hotel each night. And what
rousing fun there is in these wayside hostelries when parties
meet! What blazing fires, what steaming venison, what
pungent odor of fried pork and bacon, what friendly aroma
of hot coffee !
Here I would fain indulge my wayward pen, and in fancy
go over the ground once more. Perhaps, however, it is
better to leave something to the anticipation of those who
may seek a new experience in this enchanting region. For
the benefit of such I will say briefly that the best fishing is
in May. The ice breaks up about the 25th of April, and the
fish are then scattered over the lakes and streams. The
THE AUlUOiJDACKS.
70
monster lake-trout, which often weiglis sixteen to twent}
pounds, can be taken by surface trolling with a "gang" or
" spoon," and sometimes witli a tiy. The season, however, is
cbld, and lacks the attractions of leafy June ; but there are
no flies or mosfiuitoes to annoy. In June the trout lie in
the ([uick water of the streams where boulders make an
eddy or divide the current. Later they are found at the
mouths of cold brooks, preparatory to spawning.
The necessary expenses of the tourist are about $'.] per
day, whether he stops at a hotel, camps, or takes a guide.
The charge for i)oat and guide is ^2.50 per diem ; hotel fares
from $1.50 to $3.50.
THE ALLEGHANIES
'HE Alleghanies are a continuation of tliat mountain-
chain or dividing ridge, which begins in the Cana-
dian district of Gaspe, in latitude 49°, forms the
natural boundary between Maine and Canada on the
west, and is continued through the Green Mountains
of Vermont, the Adirondack chain and water-sheds of New
York and Pennsylvania to Virginia. Here joining the Blue
Ridge and Cumberland range, they form a triple chain which
extends in parallel lines through North Carolina, Tennes-
see, Northern Georgia and Alabama, to Mississippi, in lati-
tude 33°.
Throughout all this mountain region the speckled trout
inhabit, and the great lake trout dwell.
Halcyon days have I passed at Lake George. What tongue
has ever failed to sing the praises of its azure mountains and
crystal depths ? What artist has not transferrer^ to canvas bits
of its enchanting scenery — the islets that gem the Narrows,
the lovely seclusion of the Hague, or the sharply-cut out-
lines of " Elephant Mountain'' ? Has he not even essayed to
paint the hallowed stillness of Sabbath Day Point ? Is not
their name legion, and are not their cosy, vine-draped sum-
mer homes scattered along its romantic shores ? Do they
not nestle in its glens and shady nooks ? And the «rtists,
are they not seen daily on sultry uinrnings, sitting under
a
*
THE ALLEGIIANIES.
81
capacious umbrellas, whose amplitude of sliado protects
their darling cas*^ ' '""om the sun — sitting sketching from Na-
ture with assidui .• ye and hand, as though the reputation
of Nature depended upon the sketch.
Many are the pounds of fish I have taken from Lake
George ; many the ''laker'' I have raised with my trolling-
spoon from the buoys where old Moses '" chummed" his fish.
It was a sort of confidence-game on the fish at the expense
of Moses ; but I always gave the old man Avhat I caught.
I did, honor bright ! Around the three hundred islands of
the Narrows, and the peninsula of Tongue Mountain, I have
trolled for black bass with rich success, and taken them time
and again with my rod and an ibis-fly from the rocks at the
north end of Fourteen-mile Island. And nearly all the
trout-streams in the neighborhood have paid shining tribute
to my creel. Many a hai)py hour have I whiled away upon
the lawn at Bolton, now studying anatomy and physiology,
Avhile the unconscious subjects played crocjuct, and anon
reading my favorite book, or Avatching the little steamer that
plied to and fro. In the quietness of my rural seclusion I
envy not the artificial attractions of the grand hotel at
Caldwell — its hops, its billiards, its brass band, its bar, its
fast horses, its entremets, its flare and its flummerj'. I enjoy
only things natural, and it is not without reluctance that 1
turn my back upon them when the hour for adieu comes.
All the eloquence of the " Colonel's" historical apostrophes
to Ticonderoga and the American flag, with a siglit of the
bleached old ruins themselves, will not utterly banish my feel-
Migs of regret.
All the great lakes of New York are celebrated as summer-
resorts, and in them the angler w ill always find good sport,
for the kinds of fish are various, though not all of the Sal-
mo family. It is needless to specify them here, for the pis-
catory dish I dole is epicurean. It is the delicate and deli-
cious flesh of trout and salmon, pink and flaky, served with
sauce piqiiante.
G
82 ' TEE ALLEGHANIES.
All through that portion of Western New York accessible
by the Erie Railroad, both in lake and stream, and in the
tributaries of the Delaware, trout are to be found in great
abundance. Greenwood Lake, twelve miles from Turner's, is
a favorite rendezvous. In Pike county, Pennsylvania,
there is fine fishing, of which I shall speak particularly in a
subsequent chapter. The valley of the Juniata in Penn-
sylvania, and the Cheat River in Western Virginia, are famous
for the number and size of their trout.
Th J Cheat River country extends through Randolph and
Preston counties, and comprises one of the most savage por-
tions of the Alleghany range. The river and its tributaries,
the Blackwater, Seneca Creek, the Laurel, Gode Fork, all
abound in trout, and run through, a labyrinth of moun-
tains, roaring down ledges, leaping precipices, winding
through dismal gorges, and cveryAvhere dashing and scin-
tillating with foam and bubbles. Perpendicular walls run up
to the sky. Great pines cling to their crevices, and threaten
to fell before the first windy gust that whisks down the
ravine. Such a combination of tangled wilderness and rug-
ged grandeur is seldom seen. The White Mountains are tame
in comparison, and Tuckerman's Ravine becomes a mere rift
in the rock beside these mighty chasms from whose misty
depths rise confusid sounds of rushing waters and muttcr-
ings of unseen agents. Near the source of the Dry Fork are
the " Sinks," where the river rushes into the side of the
mountains and disappears for a time, then suddenly emerges
to view and continues its course in the sunUght. The Cheat
derives its name from the fact that its waters are so clear, and
at the same time so dark as to deceive the stranger in regard
to its depths when crossing its fording-places. It is reached
by the Parkersburg branch of the Baltimore and Ohio Rail-
road.
Away up among the mountains of the north-east corner
of North Carolina, where the boundaries of four states join,
are the sourcea of many trout-streams which form the tribu-
fo.
THE ALLEGHANIES.
83
taries of larger rivers. The Toe Eiver, Cranberry Creek, Elk
River, Linville River, and all the tributaries of the Watauga,
contain trout. New River, in Watauga county, with its three
forks, and all the streams that run into it, abound in trout.
Near here are the highest peaks to be found east of the
Rocky Mountains ; the Black Mountain and Roan Mountain,
each seven thousand feet high, and a brotherhood of lesser
lights, of which Mount Pisgah, Table Mountain, its face a
sheer precipice several thousand feet deep, Smoky Mountain,
Bald Mountain, and Cold Mountain, are the chief. Here are
finest gi-azing lands for cattle, even on the very summits of
some. Farms are scattered here and there at frequent inter-
vals, and among the humble cabins of the poorer whites are
houses of some pretension, whose wealthy owners are agricul-
turists, graziers, and hunters combined. Indeed, every native
resident is a born hunter, for the country is filled with game.
Old Burnet, the mighty hunter of Black Mountain and for
years its sole inhabitant, could count his bear scalps by the
hundred, not to mention panthers, wild cats, and other var-
mints thrown in. Every man keeps his hound, and many a
pack. This district is reached by ^vay of Johnson City, on
the Virginia and East Tennessee Railroad.
This mountain region extends into East Tennessee. The
Swanannoah River, and the Sweetwater branch of the Little
Tennessee afford excellent trout-fishing ; the latter is reached
by way of Franklin. But none of these localities are often
visited by Northern people, few of whom, I suppose, are even
aware of their existence. For the sake of the novelty alone,
it would be well to pay them a visit.
Next to the Cheat River country, the counties of Potter
and Elk, in Northern Pennsylvania, oficr the greatest induce-
ments to the sx)ortsman to be found in any part of the Alle-
ghany range. Like other localities in the older and densely
populated portions of the United States, such as the Adiron-
dacks and Cheat River tract, which, have been left unsettled
by reason of their unfitness for agi'icv.iture, or from other
84 THE ALLEGHANIES.
causes, this section remains in its primitive state. Its only
habitations are the cabins of hunters and a few venturesome
pioneers. It abounds in trout and game of all kinds.
In Kettle Creek, Powder River, Young-woman's Creek, and
all the tributaries of the Sinamahoning River — the latter a
branch of the Susquehanna — the angler may cast his hne Avith
the assurance of quick and full returns.
"When my first visit was made to this region, many years
ago, it was no trifle of an adventure to penetrate into its
jungle ; but now there are increased facilities, either by the
Erie Railroad to Genesee, or the Philadelphia and Erie to Em-
porium, and thence by stage to Condersport and wagon road
to Young-woman's Town.
That this wilderness is not wholly without inducements to
immigration and settlement, is evidenced by the attempt of
the celebrated " 01 e Bull," twenty-five years ago, to establish
a Norwegian colony here. Right in the depths of the forest,
overgrown with brambles and brush, and inhabited only by
hedgehogs and owls, stands the castellated structure which
the sanguine violinist fondly hoped would be the nucleus of
a flourishing settlement. Graded camage-roads, over which
no carriages ever rumble, sweep up to the door of the man-
sion. Splendidly built log-cabins surround it at circum-
scribed and deferential distances, like the old-time "negro
quarter of a Southern plantation ; but decay is consuming
them gradually, and desolation sits within their doors. Great
trees have grown from their foundations, and saplings pro-
trude through their roofs. On every side are evidences of lav-
ish expenditure and misapplied energy, just as there are in
the wilderness of " John Brown's Tract," where the old man's
son attempted, years ago, to establish iron works that should
multiply his fortune and supply the world. Both efforts
failed by reason of their inaccessible distance from a market.
So completely overgrown and hidden from view is this ham-
let of Ole Bull's, that one might pass within a few rods with-
out perceiving it. Here and there a Norwegian family still
THE ALLEGHANIES.
85
lingers in the region, but the country is mainly restored to
its originiil possessors, the wolves, the bears, and the deer.
Here in the vicinity once resided a sturdy old hunter and
trapper, one Hubbard Starkweather, with Pritchard, his
"chum." Starkweather left the country in 1855, and I after-
wards accidentally encountered him in the " Big Woods " of
AVisconsin ; he Avas seventy years old then, and I doubt not
is now "gathered to his fathers."
Many arc the pelts of varmints and saddles of venison he
has " packed " out to Coudersport in the dead of winter ;
many the traps he has set for mink, marten, and otter ; many
the panthers he has laid out " cold " in the woods. There
were two fresh cat-skins stretched out on the side of his
shanty the first time I pushed my way through the under-
brush up to his door. Of royal blood was Starkweather, the
son of Bernard Starkweather, of Revolutionaiy fame — Mor-
gan's crack rifleman, who carried on foot the despatch which
resulted in the capture and surrender of Gen. Burgoyne ;
streaking it through the woods, dodging the British scouts,
and making over fifty miles between sundown and sunrise !
Pritchard, his chum, was a queer old " coon," whose lips
and tongue had long been hermetically and continently
closed upon all social intercourse whatever by a misadven-
ture in love. For weeks at a time he never uttered a word.
Little was the provocation he gave for quarrel in those clays;
little the profit old Starkweather derived from his compan-
ionship, save the acquisition and compulsory observapce of
that cardinal virtue, silence. It was the same old story — a
clear case of heart-break for love. Pretty sweet-heart, when
he was young, ran off with a^ .ber man. Oh, the incon-
stancy of woman ! Ah, tho , otion of man ! And so the
sturdy huntei-'s congenial springs froze up! Long it took to
dissolve the icy ring around his heart ; rigors of weather
and hardships of life gratlually seamed his features, and his
hair grew white with the frosts of winter. At length it hap-
pened in this wise : he " took the rheumatics," and had a
8G THE ALLEGIIANIES.
sort of "warning attack" of partial paralysis. Bodily pain
and nervous anxiety cut loose the knot that tied up his
tongue. A little warmth of the old blood returned — an in-
ner consciousness, an agreeable sense of a shadowy something
which loomed out of the misty past, a yearning for that deli-
cious sympathy and gentle touch of woman which an old
man so much appreciates when his steps grow feeble and
pains tingle through his bones.
Said he to Starkweather, one day, when he was dul)bing a
green pelt in the shanty — said he: "Pardncr, I'm treed!"
A hound raised his nose from his paAVS and whined at the
unusual voice, but Starkweather showed no sign of sui'})rise.
" Lot it out, old boss," he rejoined ; and went on with his
graining.
'• Hubbard, I'm afeard I'll have to give in. I aint no ac-
count any more. I've had this first warning attack, and
they say the third is a settler. One of these times when
you're off with the traps, or out to the settlements, you'll
come back and find me stiff. 'Twould be kinder hard to
drop off alone, old boss ! "
"Pshaw!"
"' Hubbard, you must get me a woman to take care of me !
I don't care what sort she is, much ; only mind, Ilubbai'd,
she musn't be 2)reity.'"
" I'll do it, old chum. I'll do it, if it cost me a fortin.
Take another snooze, pard, and call the thing settled."
So the conversation terminated, and early the next morn-
ing Starkweather struck into the woods. The " woman" he
brought, in course of time, to the sylvan altar, was a " she-
Norwegian " and a widow, who couldn't speak a word of
English. That she was plain, there can be no doubt. It
was so named in the contract. That ►she made a good wife,
is equally certain; for the hunter's cabin soon assumed a
vastly improved appearance, as did the " old case " himself
He was as good as new.
In the course of time there was a wedding at Pritchard's.
THE ALLEGHANIES.
87
i
All the denizens of Potter and Elk were invited. The girl
■was spliced. The stalwart backwoodsmen, in brand new
suits of homespun and shu'ts of gaudy calico, smacked the
blushing bride in due and proper form, and drank the health
of the happy pair in bumpers full. Then the fiddler was
hoisted upon a chest; and Avhen old Pritchard himself flung
his sturdy arm around his step-daughter's plump waist, and
"clar'd the floor" for a dance which ho called "French
fours," he seemed to mean that as much dancing as four or-
dinary persons could do in the same time should be done
then and there in a style as far from French as possible.
And it was done, you may depend. Modern dancers
couldn't shine in that crowd. Long were the festivities pro-
tracted ; and when the catgut ceased to scrape at last, and
the final bumper was swallowed, it is not denied that some
Avho sought their homes in the trackless gloom of the woods,
awoke in the morning with only a blue sky for a canopy.
Mention should not 1)C omitted of one other resort — the
Catskills. If tliey cannot be recommended as first-class
fishing-ground, they ought, nevertheless, to be reverently
regarded, for tlieir history is made classic by association with
such proud names as Cooper, Irving, Bryant, and Cole.
Once the waters of the Kauterskill and the Plauterskill
abounded with trout, and doubtless years ago yielded fre-
quent tribute to the cunning hand of the veritable Rip Van
Winkle himself. Certain it is that they were the favorite
resort of anglers of no mean standing in their profession —
men whom a love of nature in its purity led apart from the
noise and stir of the busy metropolis below, to worship in
these mountain cloves. In the Esopus, too, and in Sweet-
water Brook, Shews' Lake, Schoharie Creek, and Roaring
Kifl, the tiny splash of the trout was heard at early dawn,
and anglers, who tried their luck at favorable seasons, re-
turned to town witli strings that numbered hundreds. But
these streams have been sadly depleted since ; and although
they aflbrd fair sport for summer guests of the great moun-
88 THE ALLEGIIANIES.
tain hotels, the ambitious angler looketh elsewhere for his
trophies. Many are the rambles I've enjoyed among these
mountain nooks.
" Pleasant have been eucli hours, and though the wise
Have said that I was indolent, and they
Wlio taught me have reproved me that I played
The truant in the leafy month of June,
I deem it true philosophy in him
Whose path leads to the rude and busy world.
To loiter with these wayside comforters."
NEW ENGLAND AND THE
AROOSTOOK.^-
— ^O^^lOc*-
ilHEN I was a mere* lad travelers took stage or
steamboat from New York for New Iluven, the rail-
^ road to Hartford, a "stern-wheeler" up the Coiinec-
*^^[fv ticut River to Springfield, stage to Northamjjton,
^•^ and any available conveyance to indefinite regions
beyond. I remember making the entire journey in an old
rumbling parallelogram buttoned in hermetically by close
glazed curtains, with a water-bucket slung under the axle be-
hind. Those were comparatively primitive times. Manu-
factories had not utilized every cubic foot of running water,
and each wayside stream afforded sport for the angler.
Only twenty-three years ago it was considered a wonderful
stride in the march of improvement Avhen the Connecticut
River was dammed at Ilolyoke and the foundations of a brick
city were laid ; but it was death to salmon and shad. Civil-
ization and trout, it is said, cannot exist together ; and like-
wise salmon. Where now are the speckled beauties that
once swarmed and multiplied in every brook and rivulet ?
Where are the salmon that skulled their way to the head-
waters of the noble Connecticut, the Merrimack, the Penob-
scot, the Kennebec, Aroostook, and the other rivers of Maine ?
* See Harper's Magazine, Vol. XXVII., page
688.
90 NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
Time was when tlie Green and White Mountains were the
Arcadia of the angler. When a lad I could catch trout ad
libitum among the Hampshire and Berkshire hills of Massa-
chusetts, and a basket of a hundred and fifty i)er day was
nothing remarkable ; but those streams are sadly depleted
now. Nevertheless there are numerous localities throughout
New England, setting Maine aside, which even now yield a
fair reward to the patient and dexterous angler.
There are the Yantic and the Quinnebaug, tributaries of
the Thames in Connecticut, easily accessible from New Lon-
don and Norwich, and flowing through a richly cultivated
farming country, with comparatively few factories to destroy
their natural attractions.
On the Marshpee and other streams of the Cape Cod pen-
insula fair troutiiig can be found. This and the Marshfleld
district are much favored by Bostonians who seek a day's
fishing near home.
The Blackberry River and the Konkopot, tributaries of
the Housatonic, are easily reached by the Housatonic Rail-
road from Bridgeport, Ct. They flow through one of the
most charming sections of the Berkshire hills, and within
view of " Greylock " Mountain. Sheffield, on the Connecti-
cut State line, is a good starting-point for the angler, who
will meet with success commensurate with his efforts. In-
deed, in nearly all the more sparsely-settled districts of Con-
necticut and Massachusetts some remnants of the aboriginal
Salmo fontinalis can be found.
And what shall be said of the mountain region of Ver-
mont or the grand old White Hills of New Hampshire ? Are
they not annually the resort of thousands of tourists and
anglers, to Avhom each river, brook and stream is as a familiar
face and household word ? Very different in their general
features are the White Mountains from the Adirondacks.
The latter impress by the immensity of their huge propor-
tions and the grandeur of their outlines. They convey to the
beholder an idea of illimitable extent. From almost any
NEW ENGLAND AND TUE AROOSTOOK.
01
standpoint of man's ordinary level can bo seen an amplii-
theatro oi Titanic ju'oportions — vast valleys sweeping away
into indclinite space ; sky-splittJng peaks of every conceivable
size and shape standing solitary in the solitude; blue ranges
of mountains trending in double and triple phalanx to the
farthest limit of vision ; great lakes diminished by distance
to globules tliat gleam in their emerald settings like the hght
of reilected stars. Among the White Mountains the view is
iUways more contracted, unless one mounts to the highest
summits, and from Mount Adams or AVashington takes in at
a glance that marvelous photograph of inconceivable im-
mensity which is cfe fined over an area of two hundred and
lifty miles. That view, indeed, to mortal eyes is like a
glimpse of eternity. Ordinarily, however, the tourist who
picks his way along the roads and by-paths that skirt the
bases of this labyrinth of peaks, sees little more than the
vista directly before him and the cuniulosc forests and crags
that climb to the clouds. Down at the bottoms of these de-
files, the prevailing sense is one of shadow and gloom. The
scenery here is Alpine in its features — mountains of granite
piled together, broken by gorges, slashed by ravines, yawn-
ing with chasms, and dashed by torrents and cascades that
tumble from hidden places and presently vanish into gloom.
All the year round the snow lies in the nethermost rifts,
and the water that drains from its melting in summer cools
the streamlets to a temperature delicious for trout. No saw-
dust or tanbark from mills will ever pollute their purity or
curtail their God-given privileges. The forest will remain
primeval always, and trout will probably be found wherever
the anglei-'s perseverance or curiosity may lead him. There
is no more favorite region for the summer rambler, be he
sportsman or merely refugee from business cares. Last year
was completed a grand tour by which all the hotels and
localities of interest can be successively visited. Therefore
it matters little whether the tourist who wishes to " do " the
White Mountains takes the Grand Trunk Railway to Gorham,
&.
^
IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
7,
v..
1.0
I.I
1.25
■ 50 ■^™
u 124
2.5
2.2
IM
U IIIIII.6
/a
/A
4^
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.92 NEW ENGLAND AND THE ABOOSTOOK.
the Connecticut Valley Road to Littleton and Whitefield,
the Portsmouth and Great Falls Railroad to Conway, or the
Portland and Ogdensburg Railroad to North Conway — of
which the two latter, not yet finished, will be completed this
summer.
Not to mention categorically those lakes, like Magog, Se-
bago, and Winnipiseogee, which lie in the path of summer
travel, and are resorts for loungers rather than for anglers,
I proceed to regions more congenial.
Maine ! There is no region in the United States (I speak
advisedly) equal to it. As to fishing, who that has ever wet
his line in these waters could thereafter Ibe content to angle
elsewhere, unless it be in the more distant waters of the
Canadian Dominion? The orthodox sportsman may here
roam from stream to stream, and cast his fly with a certainty
of success and liberal reward which might well excite tlie
envy of many a trans-Atlantic angler. Let the rambler
make his camp-on whatever lake or stream he will, it is all
the same, whether it be in the St. Croix country, the region
of Moosehead Lake, or the more northern waters of the
Aroostook ; whether along some one of the dozen romantic
tributaries of the Penobscot, the Kennebec, and St. John, or
on the margin of the magnificent lakes in which they invari-
ably have their sources — lakes with euphonious names and
unpronounceable names — lakes called Wassataquoik, Chesun-
cook, Mooseluckmaguntic, Bamedumphok, Pangokwahem,
Umsaskis, Madongamook, Raumchemingamook ! Maine is
emphatically a country of lakes and streams. There are no
mountain ranges in Maine. But isolated and cloud-capped
peaks stand out in solitary grandeur from the comparatively
level tracts surrounding, inviting wonder and admii*ation.
Of these the number is large, the most prominent being the
Sugar Loaf, Katahdin, Abraham, Chase's, and Mount Blue.
Moosehead Lake, long a sequestered haunt of the ambi-
tious sportsman, and the grand centre of a vast wilderness
region, has experienced the fate of the Adirondacks, and
NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
been " thrown open to the public." Its natural outlet, the
Kennebec, was long the highway for the lumberman. Down
its rushing tide millions of logs were borne on spring freshets
to the mills and seaboard below ; and when the logging busi-
ness grew to gigantic proportions, and the ravages of the axe
had stripped the nearest accessible forests of their wealth of
timber, steam-tugs were employed to haul great rafts of logs
from the head of the lake to its outlet. This was the enter-
ing wedge that rived its portals. Soon an excursion steam-
boat was placed upon the lake, and hotels were built at
eligible points. The Kennebec Railroad extended its iron
highway from the Atlantic and Androscoggin Railroad to
Carritunk Falls ; and from that point stages now run to the
lake. This splendid fishing-ground is accessible by an easy
journey from Portland. Hither the ladies come in the sum-
mer days with their " pianos and parasols," and share with
the rougher sex the pleasures of the wilderness. Tents dot
the islands and shores, fishing-boats traverse its tranquil
waters, and music floats sweetly at eventide over its waves.
Its whole extent from north to south is about forty miles,
and varies in width from one to eight. It is very irregular
in shape, deeply indented with bays and coves, and diversi-
fied with numerous islands. Many of these are mere ledges
of rock, covered with a scanty growth of cedar and fir, with
shores that drop perpendicularly into the water to a depth
of eighty or ninety feet. On the eastern side of the lake,
opposite the mouth of Moose River, Mount Kinneo rises
abruptly from the water hke a huge artificial wall to the
heig^ht of six hundred feet, and close to its sombre sides the
largest ship might float. This lake abounds in " tuladi " or
salmon trout, and its tributaries Avith speckled trout that
weigh from one to three pounds.
The Umbagog chain of lakes includes the Rangely,
Oquossoc, and MoUychunkamunk, and are famous for their
monster trout {Salmo fontinalis), which have been taken
weighing as high as twelve pounds 1 These lakes are the
94 NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
grand reservoirs of the Androscoggin River ; they are sur-
rounded by lofty mountains, and present more attractions to
the lovers of the picturesque than any similar scenery in
New England. They have long been the Utopia of hunters
and anglers. Though little visited by the goneral public, they
are much resorted to by members of the " Oquossoc Club,"
who own a house, boats, and several hundred acres of land at
Rangely. The club comprises some seventy or eighty gen-
tlemen, chiefly from the vicinity of New York, who also con-
trol the Sandy River Ponds adjacent. These are the sources
of the Sandy River, a tributary of the Kennebec. There is
another club-house at Middle Dam Camp, which is at the
foot of Molly chunkemunk, and at the head of Rapid River.
^ The Umbagog lakes are most easily reached from Bethel,
on the Grand Trunk Railway, by stages to Jpton. They are
accessible also from Farmington, on the Androscoggin Rail-
road, and thence by stage to Rangely via the town of
Phillips ; but the journey is long and tedious. -. . •
The Sebec chain of lakes in Piscataquis county abound in
the far-famed landlocked salmon, as do other lakes to the
northward. They can be caught all the year round, even in
mid-winter through the ice ; but they spawn in November,
and the fishing season par excellence is from June to Sep-
tember inclusive. These lakes are reached from Sebec
station on the Piscataquis Railroad, and thence by stage five
miles ro the fishing-grounds. The main lake is twelve miles
long. There are hotels both at the upper and lower ends,
and the little steamer "Rippling Wave" plies between in
the summer months, for the convenience of tourists and
anglers. Such bold biters are these fish, that the boys cap-
ture them by hundreds with merely a piece of pork for bait.
The Megalloway is one of the tributaries of the Andros-
coggin, which it joins a few miles below its outlet from Um-
bagog Lake. It is nearly a hundred miles long, and for a
considerable distance is the boundary between Maine and
New Hampshire. It rises in the Canadian highlands, and
NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
%
flows with most devious windings through mountain gorges
of the wildest character, which rise in places to the height
of a thousand feet. It is Hable to sudden freshets ; for in
rainy weather eveiy rocky seam and channel contributes a
rivulet or torrent to svrell its volume, and when in full, im-
petuous career, it empties itself into the Androscoggin with
a flood that raises its waters so that they set back into Um-
bagog Lake for a distance of two miles, having the appear-
ance of a river running up stream, back to its source.
The trout of the Megalloway are very abundant, and aver-
age two or three pounds weight. Anglers usually leave the
Grand Trunk Railway at Stratford, take stage to Colebrook,
wagon from there to Errol Falls on the Androscoggin, then a
batteau up the river to Durkee's Landing on the Megalloway,
and thence up stream a two days journey to Parmachene
Falls and Lake. The wagon road from Colebrook follows
up the valley of a small stream called the Mohawk, through
a gap in the mountain ridge, only less famous than the White
Mountain Notch because more remote from triiveled route ;
thence down the opposite slope through the celebrated " Dix-
ville Notch," along a path hewn into the side of the chasm,
and just wide enough for one wagon track ; with crags tow-
ering perpendicularly above, and the gloomy gulf yawning
below, on to the valley of the Androscoggin and the basin
of Lake Umbagog. There is very comfortable tavern accom-
modation at the several stages of the journey to Durkee's.
I come now to regions untainted by the odor of lavender
or cologne, where "parasols" never venture, and the atmos-
phere is freighted with the fragrance of the resinous balsam
and pine. Even the axe of the pioneer lumberman is stilled
in the summer days, and the birchen canoe, gliding stealth-
ily into the silence and solitude of unfrequented places,
frightens a scream of terror from the blue crane that flaps
up from the marsh. . 1 '
At Mattawamkeag, on the European and North American
Railway, fifty-eight miles from Bangor, where the river of
96 NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
that name joins the west branch of the Penobscot, canoes
and Indians can be hired for a voyage up the last-mentioned
stream to Ambijejis, Chesuncook, MilUnoket, Bamedump-
cook, and other lakes which constitute its head-waters. The
scenery in some sections of this wilderness territory is grand
in the extreme. Its numerous waterfalls, its swelling hills,
and in some instances towering mountains, from whose tops
may be counted an almost endless number of lakes, and the
vast groves of towering pines scattered at intervals over mil-
lions of acres of forest land, make it altogether ore of the
wildest and most romantic regions imaginable. The Penob-
scot River flows within striking distance of Mount Katah-
din — qne of the most conspicuous and celebrated of the
mountains of Maine — an isolated peak, five thousand three
hundred feet high, growing out of the vast expanse of forest.
From a distance, looking westward, its upper outline resem-
bles the entire face, figure, and form of a recumbent giant,
stretched at full length. Its ascent has frequently been made,
though not w'ithout great personal risk. A description ot* a
mountain so rarely visited and so little kno"svn will not be
amiss in these pages ; it is taken from Springei-'s " Forest
Life and Forest Trees." The ascent was made in the early
part of September. •-: '
. "A 'slide' serves as a path to the top of the southeastern
ridge, which is above all timber growth, and about two-thirds
of the whole perpendicular height. From the head of the
slide we ascended to the most eastern peak. It is perhaps
the most favorable spot for viewing the whole structure.
From thence the primeval peaks are in a curved line, going
southwest, then west and northwest. The second peak, called
the * Chimney,' is nearly square in form, and separated from
the first by a sharp cut, one hundred and fifty or two hun-
dred feet deep. Ascending the Chimney we went from one
hummock to another, making on the whole a gradual ascent
till we reached the middle of the principal peaks, a distance
of nearly half-a-mile. Here Ave found a monument that had
NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
m
been erected by some former visitor, but overgrown with moss.
While sitting on the south side of the monument at twelve
o'clock, we put the thermometer in a favorable place, and
it went up to 84°. At the same time, on the north side,
six feet from us, water was freezmg and the snow dry and
crusty. - • ■ •• ■ ^ • ' . - ' f- ' .- ^ •• •
• " From the eastern peak a spur makes out eastward a dis-
tance of one mile. Half-a-mile down, however, it divides,
and a branch runs to the northeast the same distance. On
the southwest, across the cut, is the * Chimney.' From this
the line of peaks and hummocks curves to the west till it
reaches the middle and highest peak. From one hummock
to the other there are in all thirty rods of narrow passes ;
some of them are so narrow that a man could drop a stone
fiom either hand, and it would go to unknown depths below.
In some places the only possible way is over the top, and
only one foot wide. For a great part of the time the wind
blows across these passcj so violently that the stones them-
selves have to be firmly fixed to keep their places. All these
peaks and spurs inclose a deep basin, with walls almost per-
pendicular, and in some places apparently two thousand feet
high. It contains perhaps two hundred acres, covered with
large square blocks of granite that seem to have come from
the sui-rounding walls. There are in it six lakes and ponds,
varying in size from two to ten acres. It is easy to see the
origin of those fears which the Indians are said to have re-
specting the mountain as the residence of Pamolah, or Big
Devil. Clouds form in the basin, and are seen whirling out
in all directions. Tradition tells of a handsome squaw
among the Penobscots, who once did a great business in
slaying her thousands among the young chiefs of her nation,
but was finally taken by Pamolah to Katahdin, where he
now protects himself and his prize from approaching Indians
with all his artillery of thunder and hail. Whether this be
true or not, the basin is the birthplace of storms, and I my-
self have heard the roar of its wiftds for several miles. The
7
*.
98 NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK.
mountain around this basin is in the form of a horseshoe,
opening to the northeast. From the peak on the northern
wing there is another deep gorge, partly encircled with a
curving ridge, which some would call another basin, which
opens to the southeast : these two basins, from some points
of view, seem to be one. The structure of the mountain
is an immense curiosity. From its summit very few popu-
lous places are visible, so extensive is the intervening wilder-
ness. Not far from two hundred lakes can be seen dotting
the landscape ; in one of these we can count one hundred
islands."
' From Mattawamkeag there is an all-rail route to St. Croix
station at the foot of the eastern Schoodic or Grand Lake,
and thence by the St. Andrews Railroad to Houlton ; thence
stage to Presque Isle on the Aroostook River. In the vicin-
ity of both these places is good trout-fishing, and at the lat-
ter place, in 1859, 1 took a salmon from the bridge on the
edge of the village. In that year I made a tour of the entire
Aroostook country by stage and wagon, covering a period of
several weeks, and the information I am now able to give is
obtained chiefly from personal experience and observation
then made. From Presque Isle there is a good road due
north, which strikes the Acadian settlement of Madawaska,
on the upper St. John, near the middle chapel. A most
excellent road follows up the St. John to Fort Kent on the
Fish River, traversed daily by that portion of its six thou-
sand inhabitants who occupy the American side. Fish River
is the outlet of numerous lakes which connect with each
other, and thereby render a canoe voyage easy and agree-
able. Several of these lakes are merely wide expanses of
Fisli River, and a good road follows its course for thirty
miles, and then continues on down through the Aroostook,
back to Mattawamkeag, in a line parallel to and twenty
miles distant from the old military road that passes through
Houlton. There are four or five small villages on its route.
The intervening belt of dbuntry is an uninhabited wilder-
NEW ENGLAND AND THE AROOSTOOK. . jRI
ncss, crossed laterally by roads at only two points in a dis-
tance of ninety-five miles.
The Allagash and Walloostook are the most northern and
western rivers of Maine, and head in a region of numerous
lakes. All these waters abound in trout, but none which
debouch above the Grand Falls of the St. John contain sal-
mon. The Falls are 8event3'-five feet high, and no salmon
could make that leap. , , . , ^ , , , , •
,rt
r «J \ii*
''' ' .■
t . , ■».
■ J^
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'• ■ -J-- ■ r , ,.■
* i ^
THE SCHOODICS
'HE Schoodic or St. Croix River is the first link in
the dividing line that separates the State of Maine
from the Province of New Brunswick. It has two
branches, each heading in a chain of large and
small lakes called Schoodics, though they are more
generally recognized as the Eastern and Western "Grand
Lakes," and the St. Croix River itself, at ijiese points, as
the " Grand Lake Stream." Again, the largest body of
water in each group is known individually and distinctively
as Grand Lake. On some maps the eastern group is desig-
nated as the Chepetnacooks, and the western as the Schoo-
dics ; the first named are reached from Bangor by the Euro-
pean and North American Railway, which crosses the river
at a station called St. Croix ; or by the Calais and Houlton
stage road, which touches Grand Lake at a village named
Weston. Here boats and canoes are furnished. The other
chain is reached by steamer from Portland to Eastport and
Calais, and thence by the Calais and Lewy's Island Railroad
to Princeton, where a miniature steamer is in readiness to
take parties up and down the lakes.
In the Indian vernacular, Schoodic, or Mschoodiac, signifies
" open space" or " wide prospect waters," referring either to the
wide expanse of the lakes themselves, or to the immense fields
of meadow-land which abound in the whole region.
THE 8CH00DICS.
101
The Schoodics are the home of the "Land-locked sal-
mon." If it bo that this peculiar species of delicious and
gamey fish exists in other waters, it is nevertheless identified
always with the charming lakes and streams designated as
above. There has been much controversy among ichthy-
ologists in determining its status in the Salmo family.
It so nearly resembles the Salmo salar in its appearance and
habits that it is difficult to decide whether they are a distinct
species of fish, or merely their degenerated progeny, by
some means imprisoned in the lakes and debarred from ac-
cess to the ocean. In size and general external appear-
ance it resembles the grilse more completely than the ma-
ture salmon. The scales of both are ellipsoid. As respects
the skeleton, the texture and color of the flesh, the location
and number of the fins, and the number of fin-rays, they
are identical, varying only in the number of anal and dor-
sal fin-rays, to which ichthyologists pay little or no attention,
as they are found not to be constant in the true salmon.
There is, however, a certain golden sheen that illumines the
land-locked salmon when first caught, which does not char-
acterize his congener. Both species spawn about the same
time in the shallows of fresh-water streams. The period of
incubation is the same. The color of the fry is about the
same, that of the true salmon being perhaps a trifle darker.
The chief difference is in size, and it is not unreasonable to
attribute this to difierence in feeding-grounds, those of the
sea affording more abundant nourishing food. Agassiz at
first decided that it was a degenerated salmon, but after-
wards saw reason to change his opinion, in consequence of
inspecting the " Loch Lomo^;id " trout of New Brunswick,
which are the exact counterparts of the St. Croix salmon in
size and general external appearance. William H. Venning,
Esq., inspector of fisheries for the Provinces of Nova Scotia
and New Brunswick — a gentleman exceedingly well versed
in the natural history of the salmon, and selected for his
official position by reason of his thorough quahfications — has
102 THE SCHOODICS.
published his opinion that they are a distinct species. lie
writes :•.•••• •.
.' " They are called * Land-locked salmon/ But from the po-
sition and general features of this extensive chain of lakes, I
cannot understand the possibility of the fish ever having
been land-locked, which they certainly are not at present.
On the supposition that they are degenerated salmon, they
must have had, previous to their becoming degenerated, free
access to and from the sea, or else there could have been no
salmon to become land-locked. The l\pad of water occasioned
by shutting the gates of the dam for only ^wenty-four hours
[there is a dam at the outlet of Grand Lake and at Prince-
ton, and oPthers below], shows that some outlet must always
have existed. Were this outlet to become stopped by any
sudden change in the level of the country, through volcanic
or aqueous agency, so immense a body of water, augmented
by the melting snows of winter and the copious rains of
summer, which pour into it from the hills on every side,
would soon have found another ; and it is hard to conceive
that so active a fish as a salmon could ever have been land-
locked in this chain of lakes. The instinct of the salmon to
reach salt-water is so strong that it is difiicult to believe that
the fish would ever entirely lose it ; while it is not yet settled
beyond a doubt that the salmon will live and propagate if
deprived of periodical visits to the sea. The land-locked sal-
mon of Sweden are now believed to be distinct from the
Sdlmo solar. •" ' - • '
" That some fish occasionally stray down the stream, and*
even get below the dams, is natural enough; but it by no
means favors the idea that the instinct of the fish urges it to
seek the sea. Were this the case, the lakes and streams
would soon be deserted ; for, while there is no obstacle to
their descent, their return is impossible in consequence of
the dams. As we know that the St Croix throughout its
whole length was a fine salmon stream previous to the erec-
tion of the dams at Milltown, we should have to admit that
THE SCH00DIC9.
108
tho perfect salmon and the degenerated salmon frequented
the same stream, and that, under precisely similar conditions,
they had very dissimilar habits. This, I think, would con-
stitute a distinct bijccies."
The Loch Lomond trout, already alluded to, inhabit a
restricted range of three lakes near St. John, and have never
been found elsewhere, so far as known, although there are
several smaller lakes emptying into the chain. It has never
been debarred from the sea ; but, as far as has been ascer-
tained, it never goes to salt water. Although exactly resem-
bhng the St. Croix salmon externally, their flesh is white,
coarse, and comparatively unpalatable, while the latter is
pink and delicious in flavor. Hence, it has been contended
that these again are a distinct species, and I have so located
them in my classification of Salmonidae given in Part I. of
this book. Mr. Venning states that the land-locked salmon
were formerly taken in Lake Sebago, sometimes as heavy as
three or four pounds ; but since the erection of a dam at the
foot of tho lake they have become rare and have almost dis-
appeared. What makes the question more interesting is the
fact that the fish, confined to the river since the erection of
the dam, have diminished in size, and their flesh has become
white. Mr. Venning writes : «. • . . .-, ' , .
" I had no difficulty in identifying it with the trout of
Loch Lomond. It corresponded in every respect with that
fish ; even to the trial of the flesh. I took some trouble to
get information on the subject, and one piece of information
I ferreted out rather supports the theory that the fish is, in
some way, descended from the true salmon. In the course
of my inquiries, I was informed by Mr. Thomas Trafton— a
hale, vigorous old gentleman of seventy-nine years, who still
retains his fondness for angling, and a distinct recollection
of the time when the fish was not a denizen of Loch Lomond
— that, previous to the erection of the dam at the mouth of
Mispeck River, which empties the waters of Loch Lomond
into the Bay of Fundy, salmon used to frequent the stream
104 THE SCHOODICS.
to sjiawn. At that time, ho is positive that tlie fish I speak
of was not known in our waters ; soon after the dam was
built, which effectually prevented the ascent of the salmon,
these white trout made their appearance in the lower lakes
of the chain, and, as in the case with the St. Croix trout or
salmon, they congregated in large numbers at the foot of the
lake on the breaking up of the ice in the spring. They were
then very large, often reaching four or five pounds, and a
small one was seldom seen ; but now the large fish have be-
come rare, while the Avhole chain of lakes abounds in vast
numbers of smaller fish of the same species, seldom exceeding
a pound in weight, and often caught as small as a half or
oven a quarter of a pound. They have increased just in pro-
portion as the speckled trout have decreased, until, at present,
the latter are becoming very scarce, where formerly they
abounded in great numbers.
" The supposition of hybridity scarcely offers a probable
solution of these enigmas ; for, in both these fish the only
possible solution is that they are hybrids between the salmon
and the trout. Now, we know that trout will devour sal-
mon ova, and salmon devour trout ova. But suppose this
difficulty overcome, and that, by some perversion of instinct,
a hybrid were produced by a female salmon and a male trout,
or by a male salmon and a female trout ; as both these fish
visit the sea, it is hard to suppose their mixed progeny Avould
be averse to it. If specimens of. the Sebago and St. Croix
trout were compared together and with the true salmon, I
think a naturalist would be enabled to arrive at a decided
opinion." " . . : .
Since the foregoing was written, Mr. Venning, Avith the
assistance of Mr. C. G. Atk'ns, Fishery Commissioner of
Maine, has succeeded in opening the dams on the St. Croix
River, and providing fish-ways, over Avhich fish, including the
true salmon, have passed, up stream in great numbers. This
intricate problem of the land-locked salmon is therefore likely
to be satisfactorily solved at no distant day.
THE SCnOODICS.
105
The land-locked salmon average about twc pounds and a
half in weight, and arc taken from early spring, when the icso
breaks up, until late in the autumn. They are perhaps
more numerous in the spring than during the summer and
autumn, but their average sizo is less, and they are more
scattered about the stream ; neither arc they so strong or so
active. At this season they seldom exceed a pound in weight.
Nevertheless, many anglers prefer the early fishing, on
account of the immunity from black flies, which swarm here
in the months of June and July to that extent that angling
becomes a penance and a misery. In the autumn the small
fish appear to have attained a uniform size of about two
pounds, while frequent capture is made of those weighing
from two and a half to three pounds, and occasionally of a
four-pounder. The most kilhng flies are the yellow May-
fly, the silver-gray, with black head, the orange-brown
hackle, with black head and gray wing, and the yellow May-
fly, with turkey wing, all dressed on No. hooks. These flies
can be obtained from Andrew Gierke, Maiden Lane, New
York, and from Dingee Scribner, St. John, N. B. '
The angler who has taken the Intercolonial steamer from
Boston via Portland, will find the river steamboat " Queen "
awaiting his anival in Eastport, to convey him to Calais.
Boats of this line leave Boston for St. John twice a week, on
Monday and Thursday, at 8 o'clock, a.m., until July ; after
which there are three boats a week until October. From
Calais there is a two hours' ride by rail to Princeton, be-
fore mentioned, where, if the angler be accustomed to a
birch canoe, he should secure one for his fishing-cruise.
There is a village of Passamaquoddy Indians at Point
Pleasant, near by, where ho can make his selection of
guide and conveyance. These Indians are a tan-colored
satire upon the aboriginal red man. They have adopted
enough of the white man's habits and small vices to readily
pass for white men. They are much addicted to the use of
"fire water," though there are a few sober ones among them.
106 THE SCHOODICS.
Sucli it is usually necessary to determine by lot. Their time
is mainly divided between loafing and doing nothing, and
consequently they are quite harmless. Some, however, have
been known to murder the Queen's English while under the
influence of whiskey. No capital penalty attaches to this
crime, because the Government desires to preserve the red
man from total extinction. Of those most temperate and
trustworthy, Sabattis is chief. Sabattis is a good Indian —
"got good canoe^good paddle — all good. Sabattis not
drink whiskey — no — for Injun not good — no wMshey"
If we can engage Sabattis, we are all right.
But stay. Can you keep yourself in a birch canoe ? It
requires some tact not to tumble out ; and the canoes of the
Passamaquoddies are by no means stifi", like those of many
tribes. The equipoise which an expert maintains uncon-
sciously is acquired only by long experience, and unless the
novice is confident he can balance himself on a tight-rope
the first time trying, he had better go in the steamboat.
Never a white man learned to "paddle his own canoe" who
did not attain the acquisition through baptism by immer-
sion.
There is an exhilaration in canoe-voyaging which pertains
to no other kind of locomotion enjoyed by man. In the
calm of a summer's day, with sky and clouds reflected in
watery vacuity, whose depth seems illimitable as the sky
itself, one floats dreamily in space on bird-wings. He dwells
among enchanted isles of air, with duplicated and inverted
shores. Trees of living green spring up from nothing below,
and grow tops downward. Gorgeous hues of summer color-
ing are multiplied and intensified. Everywhere the waves
are peopled with shadowy things that wear the semblance of
reality. You can strike with your paddle the image of the
crow that is crossing overhead, and shiver it into countless
fractions of crows. A clumsy fly drones past your nose and
drops heavily on the water, and lo ! from the concussion spring
two flies ; and as one gathers up his wings for a flight and
THE SCHOODICS.
107
sails away, his counterpart drops into distance afar down out
of sight. Anon a leaf falls on the surface and spins : should
an inquisitiye perch happen to come up from the bottom,
face towards us, to look at it, behold ! his two eyes expand
into full moons, and his open mouth threatens to engulf
canoe and all. There is our paddle-blade, thirty inches long,
regulation length ; thrust it into the water point down, and
directly it will reach out to the shore thirty yards away !
And if we but look over the sides of the canoe, there we
shall find ourselves instantly reproduced ; and although we
know that no other human beings are on the lake or in the
lake, yet here are creatureg like ourselves, but of a new crea-
tion — creatures with every lineament photographically de-
fined, which the slightest zephyr will annihilate. What of
a breath omnipotent that could in like fashion annihilate a
world ?
A strange new life is this we live in our birch canoe, float-
ing gently, drifting hstlessly„begui)ed by pleasant fancies —
a phantom existence, aimless and without purpose! Oh I
this is ecstacy unalloyed ! care broods not here.
But just beyond the plane of this calm repose is a tumult
of fierce moods. Here is a field for action ! Bestir yourself
mdfeel the ecstasy of latent nerve-power roused. Man was
made for noble eflbrts and deeds of high emprise. Would
he experience the keenest exhilaration of which sense is
capable — would he enjoy the dangers he dares, and feel the
buoyancy of the bark on which he floats — let him take his
place in the canoe, and with each nerve tautened to fullest
tension and every faculty alert and active, run the rapids
that form the outlet of the lake ! Here are rocks projecting,
precipices over-hanging, fir-trees clinging to perpendicular
heights, huge boulders piled in mid-stream, walls contracting
into gorges and ra\4nes ; and through its tortuous channel
the river chafes and roars, piling its crested waves in a tur-
bulence of foam, leaping cascades, and shivering itself in
showers of spray. Upon the tide of its impetuous career s^
108 THE SCHOODICS.
frail canoe might shoot for an instant like a meteor in its
flight, and then vanish forever. A. bubble would break as
easily. But with sturdy arms to guide, and eyes keen and
true to foresee danger, the peril becomes a joy ; and the little
craft leaps and dances over the feathery weaves, until at last
the precipitous banks melt into grassy strands, and the dash-
ing stream spreads into broad shallows that laugh and ripple
over pebbly bottoms.
This is the famous Grand Lake Stream, among whose rocks
and eddies the land-locked salmon delight to dwell, and
whose alternate reaches of rapid water and quiet pools,
wooded banks and sandy shores, delight the angler. It is
three miles long and connects Grand Lake with Big Lake
below. Here, at the height of the fishing season, selected
spots are occupied by dozens of cosy tents of anglers in full-
blown costumes of latest cut and fabric — for there are fash-
ions among sportsmen a? './ell as beaux. Here are bifurca-
tions of velveteen and corduroy set in capacious leather boots
and thatched above with hats of enormous brims, from
whose crowns dangle flies of every hue and size. There are
some with coats slashed with multitudinous pockets, and
others with plain woolen overshirts ; some, with veils of gauze
protecting face and shoulders, and others with blue goggles
gleaming like saucers beneath their shaggy brows. The
shores are dotted with knots of fishermen adjusting tackle,
and the stream is lively with boats and waders, and the play
of assiduous rods and whizzing reels. Here are parties re-
turning laden with trophies, and others sauntering off to re-
sorts less desirable but more retired. Far up the chain of
lakes occasional boats are trolling for twelve-pound toag, and
here and there at isolated spots on Ox Brook or Sisladobsis
are camps of old-fashioned anglers who scorn the luxuries of
tent life.
• As has been stated, this chain of lakes is very extensive.
The piscatory tourist can pass through Grand Lake to Com-
pass Lake, and thence to Sisladobsis, where there is a " carry "
THE SCHOODICS.
109
to Machias Lake, tho head-waters of the Machias River.
Or he may cross Compass I^ake to Junior Lake and thence to
Chain Lake ; or from Junior Lake into " Scraggby Lake and
on through Pleasant Lake to Duck Lake, where there is a
settlement from which land conveyance may bo had to Ban-
gor, c journey of fifty miles. '
The eastern chain of lakes, though less frequented, afford
even better sport. The Grand Lake itself is twenty-five
miles long, diversified by numerous islands, and far-reaching
points of land abundantly wooded. The shores are for the
most part bold, though there are beautiful sandy beaches at
intervals, which slope gradually to deep water and afford lux-
urious bathing facilities. The stream which connects this
lake with Chepetnacook below is similar in its characteris-
tics to the one just described. It was long a favorite resort
of Eev. Dr. Bethune. Chepetnacook is thirty miles in
length, but narrow, resembling a deep, massive river. A
range of elevated ridges, thickly wooded, rises abruptly from
its western shore, "Spruce Mountain" the highest of them
all ; and when the sun has passed the zenith it casts an inky
shadow upon the lake .which oppresses with its impenetrable
gloom, and makes the depth seem fathomless. (It is said to
be eight hundred feet.) Once, when paddling my canoe
along the shore, I ventured a swim in this Cimmerian bath-
tab! I suffered such a depressing effect that I did not re-
cover from it for hours, and do not think of it to-day without
a shudder. I was smothered by that shadow ; the weight of
the gloom pressed me under, and a hundred clammy tenta-
cles seemed reaching up from below to drag me down. Very
pleasant was it to e^ape into the sunlight of the mid-stream
— the sun never shone more gorgeously for me. How I plied
my paddle, so as not to lose sight of his golden face again !
It was a race against sunset. Like an arrow, and as noise-
lessly, the little bark skimmed over the surface in the direc-
tion of my camp ; the only sounds that broke the stillness
were the gentle dip of the blade and the ripple that chuckled
110 . THE SCHOODICS.
merrily under the stem. On the dead top of a tall pine that
leaned over the eastern shore, a great eagle sat surveying
himself complacently in the crimsoned surface below. Anon
a couple of ducks got up from a cove and flapped out toward
the middle, leaving parallel wakes as they flew. A king-
fisher scolded sharply as he mounted the scraggy limb of a
hemlock, and the hoarse voice of a crane came clear and
full from the farthest shore. As I drove my prow at last
into the alders of a sloping shore, a red squirrel ran down to
the end of a limb, and, flirting his tail, eyed me curiously
with unwinking eyes. Then I quietly laid the paddles under
the bars, and, hauling the tiny craft high and dry out of the
water, bade adieu to Chepetnacook and Grand Lake for the
time. . , . •
But I have been there since, and could relate some pleas-
ing tales of camp-life on their pleasant shores ; but this is
not a book of narratives — only a simple guide for anglers.
There are few regions more attractive to the general
sportsman than the two chains of Schoodic Lakes. Salmon,
speckled trout, toag, or great lake-trout, perch and pickerel,
abound in one or other of the series, and the angler has only
to secure hib guide, pay his money and take his choice.
t
* t
NOVA SCOTIA.
bINCE the summer of 1872 Nova Scotia has been Con-
nected with New York by rail ; so thai; the journey
can now be made in thirty-six hours, via Bangor
and St. John.
From St. John as a starting-point, the tourist can
make a round trip by rail and steamboat through considera-
ble portions of the three Provinces of New Brunswick, Nova
Scotia, and Prince Edward's Island, for the insignificant sum
of $13 As this is the main thoroughfare of travel, from
which lines less recent and less expeditious diverge to points
which I shall specify, a few exphcit directions will be valua-
ble to strangers.
The round trip, as usually chosen, is by steamboat from
St. John across the Bay of Fundy to Digby, Nova Scotia,
thirty-five miles, thence ten miles to Annapolis, a point of
historical interest, and thence by rail to Halifax via Wind-
sor. A route more desirable for sight-seekers is by steamboat
from St. John up the entire length of the Bay of Fundy to
Windsor, and thence to Halifax — starting upon the mighty
wave of an inflowing tide, which rises at Windsor to the
height of sixty feet, passing the beetling promontories of
Capes Sharp and Split, whose bases are lashed by the foam of
the eddying currents, and thence 'through the beautiful Basin
of Minas into the Avon Kiver and the pastoral country of
112
NOVA SCOTIA.
" Evangeline." Within six hours after their arrival at Wind-
sor the vast volume of water will have rolled back to the
sea, leaving an immense hollow basin as empty as the crater
of a volcano, and a trickling rivulet, the only trace of its ex-
pended forces. From Halifax there is communication by
railway to Truro and Pictbu, one hundred and thirteen
miles ; from Pictou by steamer to Charlottetowu and Sum-
merside, Prince Edward's Island, and thence by same con-
veyance to Shediac, and by rail one hundred and eight miles
back to St. John. At Truro, delightfully located on an exten-
sive plateau of meadov;-land euQircled by an amphitheatre
of hills, can be traced, the dykes thrown up by the Acadians
one hundred years ago, to reclaim the fertile bottoms and
keep the encroaching tides from the uplands. There are
gigantic willows, planted by the progenitors of Longfellow's
heroine, and a nearly obliterated burial-ground in which the
bones of many of them rest. Pictou is the depot of the
great coal region. Charlottetown is the capital of a pastoral
island noted for its fertiHty and agricultural products, and is
surrounded by elegant villas and gardens of retired English
gentlemen, with every hot-house luxury and landscape em-
bellishment to be found in climes considered more genial.
Here on Saturdays the market-square is filled with a hetero-
geneous collection of queer people, antique vehicles, and
scrubby ponies, from the neighboring settlements ; and then
there is a jargon of Indian, Scotch, and Acadian dialects, a
commingling of quaiut costumes, and a confusion of signs
and sounds, that would delight a factory operative accus-
tomed to the whirr and buzz of a mill. Inordinate quanti-
ties of garden-truck are sold for miscellaneous coins from
mints long since defunct, and of no current value whatever.
Anything that looks like money is much preferred to the
best of paper currency. The proverbial button would pass,
provided it had no eye. There are no better, longer, straight-
erj or more level roads anywhere than on Prince Edward's
Island. Summerside is a thriving town that has grown
NOVA SCOTIA. 113
great within a period incredibly short for Provincial rates of
progress. Siiediac is noted for its oysters, and is a calling-
point for the Gulf Port steamers that ply between Pictou
and Quebec. Tlio most desirable hotels at these several
places are the "Victoria" at St. John, the "Clifton" at
Windsor, the "Halifax" at Halifax, the "Prince of Wales"
at Truro, kept by a hale old Scotchman by the name of
McKenzie, who knows all the fishing- grounds in that region,
" Robson's " at Pictou, " Johnson's " at Charlottetown, and
the"Weldon"at Shediac.
Nova Scotia is also reached by weekly ocean steamer
(Thursdays) from Boston to Halifax; by weekly steamer
from Portland to Yarmouth, on Thursdays ; and by the " In-
ternational " steamers from Boston to St. John, as before
mentioned.
Twelve or thirteen years ago the author of " Sparrowgrass
Papers " wrote an entertaining sketch of Halifax and a part
of Nova Scotia as it then was, or rather, as he saw it — as fair
and truthful a sketch, perhaps, as the fog and the limit of a
month's observation permitted. Nevertheless, he evidently
closed but one eye upon his native prejudices. It was impos-
sible to divest his mind entirely of the popular notion that
Halifax, notwithstanding its fogs and dampness, was but the
correlative term for a place unmentionable and infernally
hot — a " mouldy old town," with dingy gables, predestined
to dilapidation. And the country : the other eye failed to
discover in it much that was attractive, civil, or indicative of
thrift and civilization — very little inducement for a progres-
sive Yankee to immigrate. Since then, we of the United .
States have been led by circumstances to look more kindly,
not to say covetously, upon this " Bluenose " capital and
realm. The possibility that this wealthy province may some
day constitute a valuable slice of the great Amerrcan domain,
invests it with vastly increased interest. Besides, time and
" the inexorable logic of events " have erased many of the
defects of Halifax, and multiplied its attractions. Two great
8
114 NOVA SCOTIA.
fires swept over it and wiped out the ••dingy hovels," its old-
fogyism, and its apathy. The American war gave it a sub-
stantial lift. Confederation emptied the barracks of the
garrison. And the influx, sagacious investment, and judi-
cious distribution of Yankee and Canadian capital have
planted thriving settlements and cnteiiirises from one end
of the Province to the other.
Herewith I enter the lists as the champion of Nova
Scotia. Once upon a time I resided there for a considerable
period. Within the past thirteen years I have traversed it
from one extremity to the other; much of it by private con-
vevance. I have become enamored of its natural beauties
and nnusual resources. Were I to give a first-class certificate
of its general character, I would affirm that it yields a greater
variety of products for export than any territory on the globe
of the same superficial area. This is saying a great deal.
Let ns see : she has ice, lumber, ships, salt fish, salmon and
lobsters, coal, iron, gold, antimony, copper, plaster, slate,
grindstones, fat cattle, wool, potatoes, apples, large game, and
furs. But, as this volume is not a commercial compendium,
I shall regard the attractions of the Province fi-om a sports-
man's standpoint only.
As a game counti'y it is unsurpassed. Large portions are
still a primitive wilderness, and in the least accessible forests
the moose and cariboo are scarcely molested by the hunter.
Nearly every stream abounds in trout, and although civiliza-
tion, with its dams and its mills, had nearly exterminated
the salmon at one time, the efforts of the Canadian Govern-
ment since 18G8 have so far restored the streams that this
royal fish may also be taken in nearly all its old haunts.
When the process of re-stocking, shall have been fully com-
pleted, and the dams all opened for the passage of the salmon
to their spawning grounds, these rivers will be leased to anglers.
At present they are the only ones in the New Dominion not
so leased. Such as they are, they are free to all comers. In
some respects they offer inducements not to be found in other
NOVA SCOTIA.
115
salmon districts. Most of tliom aro short, running in paral-
lel lines to the sea, only a few miles apart. The tishing-
ground seldom extends more than ten miles from their
mouths, and they arc so accessible to settlements, that the
angler can surfeit himself with sport by day, and sleep in a
comfortable inn or farm-house at night — a juxtaposition of
advantages seldom to bo found in America. There is no
necessity for camping out.
The time for salmon fishing in Nova Scotia begins much
earlier than in the other provinces. In the Shelburno dis-
trict, at the western end, the run commences in February
and ends by the 1st of July, and the season is progressively
later as you follow the Atlantic coast to the eastward. In
the Cobequid district, on the Bay of Fundy side, it begins
in early June, and continues until September. The average
weight of the fish is about twelve pounds, though a few aro
taken larger.
Sea-trout or tide-trout commence to run up the rivers at
the end of June, and the sport to be enjoyed in the estuaries
at that season is of the most exciting character. The fish
averago about three pounds in weight, and when well hooked,
will test the dexterity of the angler and the strength of his
tackle to the utmost. They are the most shapely and
beautiful of the Salmo family, and equal to any of his con-
geners for delicacy of flavor. By the middle of August the
run is over, and if caught at all after that time, they aro ftir
up stream. While some anglers insist that the sea-trout
and brook-trout {Salmo fontinalis) are identical, others
declare that the sea-trout never leaves salt water. I have
frequently taken them in Gold River, Nova Scotia, as far
up the stream as Beech Hill, which is several miles above
its mouth, with two series of considerable falls intervening.
In the same river I have taken on the same day, the 1st of
July, a salmon, a grilse, a sea-trout, and a speckled or brook-
trout, without changing my casting stand. Lay them side
by side, and there is no difficulty in establishing the identity
110
NOVA SCOTIA.
of each. I stood just above the second falls, where the river
expands into a large lake witli flat shores of meadow. A
little cold brook flows in just there, and you can wade out
knee-deep two rods from shore, and cast over a sunken ledge
which descends abruptly and per))endicularly to a depth of
twenty feet. The river channel flows under your feet, and
a single step will drop you from shoal water into a gulf. It
is a marvelous casting stand.
Although trout can be caught in all parts of Nova Scotia,
as before stated, there are three grand angling centres or
divisions of superior excellence ; and these I designate, for
convenience, as follows :
First, the Parrsboro or Cobequid district, which includes
the counties of Cumberland and Colchester. The rivers of
this district head in the Cobequid Mountains, and flow north
and east into the Northumberland Strait of the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, and south and west into the Basin of Minas, which
is an arm of the Bay of Fundy. They are extremely clear
and cold, and generally find their sources in lakes into which
the salmon go to spawn. On the Bay side they include the
Macan, Herbert, Apple, Stewiacke, Great Bass, Portapique,
and Folly Rivers. Apple River and the Portapique are the
best of the number, but the former runs through a dense
wilderness its whole length, and is accessible only from the
sea. Most of the others can be reached from Truro or
PaiTsboro by a wagon road, which follows the shore of Minas
Basin. The St. John steamer touches at Parrsboro, en route
to Windsor. By this route several streams can be fished
successively, and lodgings can be obtained at intervals at
farm-houses along the road. The true way, however, of en-
joying a visit to this section is to hire a boat at Truro, or
Amherst, and go around the peninsula — the voyage occupy-
ing some four or five weeks. On the Gulf side the two best
streams are the "Wallace River and the River Phillip. The
latter is a noble stream, and has been well protected from
illegal fishing for a number of years, and provided with passes
NOVA SCOTIA.
117
over tlio (lams. Its trout have always bceit noted for their
large size. It is most easily reached by the lutereolonial
Railway from Truro to Amherst. Most excellent accommo-
dations for anglers can bo secured at Purdy's hotel, on the
old stage road. It will probably be the first river offered for
lease in this part of the Province. By the same rouU}, and
stopping at the same hotel, the angler cah visit the famous
Westchester Lakes, where he can catch trout by the bushel,
often of large size, though the average weight is not perhaps
half a pound. There ij a fann-house, and only one, near by,
where lodgings can be obtained. Vividly do I recall a
brief visit passed with this hospitable family — a God-serving
family who never omitted morning and evening devotions.
By the farmer and his wife 1 was kindly enough received
when I tumbled my luggage at a venture from the coach,
and solicited entertainment for a few days. But there was a
paternal ancestor living there and then, though now gathered
to his defunct fathers, a patriarch of eighty years, to whose
venerable hairs I doffetl my hat in revcren^j, as became my
youth and early education. Ah ! it were better had I saved
the obeisance for an occasion more auspicious — for a person
more appreciative. Said he, with whelming brows, and
tremulous voice, and hand repellent :
" Young man, it is forbidden ! Never dare to lift your hat
to me."
Astounded, I drew back and queried. In witherir j tones
he answered :
"Is it not written, ' Thoic shall not hoio doton to the like-
ness of anything 9 ' "
In consternation, I confessed my crime, and promised
never to transgress again. In vain, I made no friend of him.
He refused all compromise, but solemnly enjoined upon my
attention the threat that came from Siijai, with its cumula-
tive penalty to be visited " upon the children of the third
and fourth generation." I was so taken aback, as sailors say,
with the enormity of the offence and the prospective punish-
118 NOVA SCOTIA.
meiit, that I canglit no fish tliat day. Trout wouldn't bite
in such an cast wind as tliat! It was only when I learned
from the family at bed-time that the old man was a religious
monomaniac, who had long since gone crazy on that partic-
ular point, and all others in general, that I could conscien-
tiously compose my thoughts, and turn my attention to
sublunary things. I turned inverted commas over the in-
cident, and herewith mark it original.
A more satisfactory mode of fishing Westchester Lakes
would be to put up at Purdy's, and drive down from there in
a wagon. Purdy's is on the summit of tiie Cobecjuid Moun-
tains. From near liis house a marvelous view can be had of
tra(!kless forests dotted with lakes, and traversed by silvery
streams that meander to tiie Avaters of the Bay and Gulf in
the distance, which are spread out in cerulean expanse, and
flecked by white sails of vessels that gleam in the noonday sun.
Fountain Lake, six miles from the hotel, is a crystal sheet of
water filled with trout. There is scarcely a locality in the
Province that I could so earnestly recommend to a stranger.
It is wild as nature itself, without l)eing barbarous; beau-
tiful, without being difficult of access; and it combines
salmon and trout fishing with all the creature comforts.
Captivating elysium !
The whole of Cumberland county comprises one of the
finest moose-hunting grounds in the world. The sportsman
should take steamer to Parrsboro, where ho can secure
guides and whatever additional outfit his circumstances
may require.
Pleasant Parrsboro! with its green hills, neat cottages,
and sloping shores laved by the sea Avhen the tide is full,
but wearing quite a different aspect when the tide goes out ;
for then it is left perched thirty feet high upon a red '^'y
bluff, and the fishing-boats which were afloat before are
careened on their beam ends, high and diy out of water.
The long massive pier at which the steamboat lately landed,
lifts up its naked bulk of tree-nuiled logs, reeking with grecu
NOVA SCOTIA.
119
ooze and seaweed ; and a high conical island which consti-
tutes the chief feature of the landscape is transformed into u
bold promontory, conuecttd with the mainland by a huge
ridge of brick-red clay. These are i)eculiaritie3 of the Bay
of Fundy throughout its length. Its coast-dwellers assuredly
cannot complain of monotony, when the landscape is so com-
pletely metamorphosed twice in every twenty-four hours.
The second district to which the angler's attention is in-
vited, I designate as the Middle district, for lack of a better
term. It includes nearly all of Halifax county, and parts of
the counties of Guysboro and Pictou. Too much cannot be
said in praise of this entire district. Its general features are
mountainous, and similar to those of the other two districts
specially spoken of. There are innumerable streams, into
which salmon have been running the past two years, over
unobstructed passes and artificial fish-ways, in number that
cause both rod and net fishermen to leaj) for joy. So many
have not been seen for decades; and the quantity netted
in the estuaries demonstrates that the system of protecting
fish on their breeding-beds is telling in favor of the coast-
fishing. John, Middle, and East Rivers in Pictou county,
are accessible from Pictou, the railway terminus; the east
and west branches of St. Mary's River, as well as the main
stream, running through Guysboro into Pictou, afford fine
salmon-fishing ; and the North, Middle, and Tangier Rivers
in Halifax county, arc also good, though hitherto interfered
with by lumbering o})erations. These are all reached by
vessel or stage-road from Halifax, at distances ranging from
forty to sixty miles from the city. They are not much
visited by anglers. Indeed, I might say the same of nearly
.ill the rivers of Kova Scotia, with the exception of those in
the vicinity of Halifax. I have never yet met an angler
from the United States on any Nova Scotia stream, and I
never yet counted a dozen rods, all qualities and degrees in-
cluded (officers, ordinary white folks, and Indians), on any
given stream in any one season. If the cause be ignorance
120
NOVA SCOTIA.
of localities and means of access, the excuse need not be
plead in future.
I make little mention of trout because they abound every-
where, not only in the tributaries of rivers named, but in
other rivers Avhere there are no salmon, though the Musquo-
doboit and Shubenacadie are much fished.
"Within a radius of twenty miles around Halifax, trout and
salmon fishing can be enjoyed in eveiy phase which the gen-
tle art is capable of assuming. Some of the conditions are
so incongruous as to be startling in their efiect. For in-
stance, who ever thought of putting salmon and negroes in
j uxtaposition ? One would as soon think of associating
sugar-cane and Esquimaux. Yet if the angler will make
up his little party of Ilaligonian friends, stow his tackle
and hampers in the tail of a dog-cart, and driv;^ out twenty
miles to Pockwock Lake, he will not only be rewarded with a
full basket of trout, but he will pass, for fully one-half the
distance, through a settlement of negroes as decidedly Afri-
can as the West Indian ancestors from whom they are de-
scended. This settlement is called Hammond Plains, and
there are two others like unto it in Xova Scotia ; for be it
known that this Province has its colonies of negroes as well
as of English, French, Germans, Scotch, Irish, and Indians,
each of which preserves its characteristic identity in a re-
markable degree. Each is clannish, keeping aloof from the
others, except as the intercourse of trade compels, and re-
taining some national and distinctive peculiarities of dress,
customs, and manner of living. On market-days in Halifax,
representatives of each can be seen mingling together, ofiering
for sale their representative wares, but still gathered in iso-
lated groups of their own kith and kind. At the Pockwock
Lake negro boatmen are at hand to render their services,
and when the day's sport is over, the angler can bestow him-
self in comfortable lodguigs especially provided for members
of the craft.
At the Dartmouth Lakes, six miles from Halifax, are trout,
NOVA SCOTIA.
121
and Indian villages of primitive bark; and there arc numer-
ous other lakes and streams in the vicinity of various de-
grees of excellence as fishing-grounds. The angler can go
forth arrayed" in the full panoply of the aristocratic sports-
man's livery, and cast his line in pleasant places, where he
can have the most assiduous attention of well-instructed
servants at table and in the field, with mine host to titillate
his fastidious palate with all the tidbits of the season ; or he
can attire himself in ordinary service suits and take civilized
pot-luck at wayside farm houses ; or he can eschew all comforts
and rough it in the bush, regaling himself on hard tack,
fish, and frizzled pork. Army officers especially have a pen-
chant for " a day's fishing." Some of them are no common-
place manipulators of fine tackle ; and when they can se-
cure a short furlough from the commanding officer of the
garrison, they summon their retinue of servants, and with a
wagon-load of tents, tackle, relishes, and i^ne wines, sally
forth to favorite haunts on Indian River and other neigh-
boring salmon-streams that empty into Margaret's Bay, some
twenty miles from Halifax. Here are famous sporting-
houses — the "Alma," the "Inkerman," and "Mason's,"
where, if report be true, there is more flirting done than
fishing. For mine hosts have pretty daughter, whom a
proximity to towii has initiated into the mysteries of the
toilet and the heart — more attractive to Her Majesty's sus-
ceptible defenders than all the allurements of leafy woods
and sylvan streams. Nevertheless, there are a few devotees to
rod and reel who heed not the wooings of the sirens, but ex-
tend their journey to that other region of superior sport, the
third, which now remains to be noticed.
This district, which I shall call the Shelburne district, cm-
braces nearly the whole of Shelburne, Queens, and Lunen-
burg counties, the same being the southern half of a wilder-
ness tract some sixty miles by ninety in extent. It is em-
phatically the lake region of Nova Scotia. All that it lacks
is the grand old mountains to make it physically as attractive
m
NOVA SCOTIA.
as the Adirondacks, while as for game and fish it is in every
way infinitely superior. Its rivers are short, but they flow
with full volume to the sea, and yield abundantly of salmon,
trout and sea-trout. Its lakes swarm with trout, and into
many of them the salmon ascend to spawn, and are dipped
and speared by the Indians in large numbers. As for the
forest country that lies to the north, and extends from Yar-
mouth, through Digby and Annapolis, int'* Kings, you can
travel a hundred miles in a north-easterly course and cross
but three roads. There is little angling in this tract, but
moose roam unmolested through it, unless perchance some
hardy hunter goes in winter on snow-shoes and kills them in
their "yards" by the score for the paltry price their hides
will bring.
Civilization and settlements, following the coast-line and
geographical boundaries, have completely encircled this wil-
derness. It is easy to reach the salmon rivers of the south side
by the Portland steamer to Yarmouth, and thence by a
little steamboat that runs at intervals to Halifax, touching
at the intermediate seaports. Or the journey may bo made
from Annapolis by railroad through the Annapolis valley one
hundred and twenty-nine miles to Halifax, and thence by
daily stage along the coast for one hundred and seventy-five
miles or more to the Jordan, Eoseway and Clyde Rivers, the
latter being the uttermost of the series and of little account
as a salmon stream. The Jordan is highly spoken of, though
I cannot recommend it from personal trial.
Once upon a time, say three years ago, intent upon adven-
ture, I determined to take a short cut from Annapolis across
the forest, the* distance from coast to coast being about seventy-
six miles. Obtaining a stout wagon, into which I tossed my
valise, I started off upon the only highway that traverses this
dreary wilderness. It was nearly four o'clock in the after-
noon, and though the days were the longest of summer, I
could not hope to reach a resting-place till after dark, and
did not until a twinkle in a hospitable window welcomed me
NOVA SCOTIA. 123
at nine. After the first two miles of the journey were passed
we commenced the ascent of the South Mountain, and from
that time passed but one solitary house in mid- wilderness.
The woods were drear and sombre, vast masses of spruce
and hemlock, whose monotony was varied only by an occa-
sional lake around which fires had run, and from whose
swampy bottoms burnt tranks of trees projected stark and
stiff. The road was filled with rocks that threatened to dis-
locate the Avagon and leave us afoot among the bears, which
the driver said were " thick " thereabouts. But '•' nary " bear
was seen, or other evidence of game-life. Only when the
shades of evening fell, an owl which had been drowsing all
day long, shook out his plumage and hooted. Not to be
made game of in this fashion, I roused the echoes with my
pistol, and the imp of darkness flapped away from a tree near
by, and presently settled down again on another, further off.
Then the dark grew denser and Ave jogged. It Avas down-
hill noAV. We were over the mountain, and the road im-
proved. At Maitland (tAvo houses), Avhere the light shone,
the candle had been snuffed for the last time, but Ave got
supper nevertheless — straAvberries and cream, bread and
butter, and sweet cakes — and the horse got hay.
We Avere up at four o'clock, took breakfast at Caledonia at
eight — forty miles made since starting — and at noon reached
a fork, of Avhich one branch turned toward Greenfield, on the
Port MedAvay River, and the other to Ponhook Lake, the
headquarters of the Micmacs and of all the salmon of Liver-
pool River. This lake is the southernmost of a magnificent
chain of lakes, of Avhich Lake Rosignol is the largest, the
latter being tAvelve miles long by eight Avide, and studded
witli innumerable islands. If the sportsman Avho has been
contented Avith Adirondack or White Mountain experience,
would enjoy a summer vacation Avhich shall eclipse all others
in its noA^elty, Aariety, and pleasure, let him employ tAvo
Indians and a canoe at Ponhook and begin his voyage. lie
can pass Avithout portages into a dozen lakes and ponds by
124 NOVA SCOTIA.
their connecting streams, and when his last camp is made
among the delightful islands of " Faiiy Lakes," he can paddle
his canoe up stream to Maitland, pay off his men and send
them back, and mount his wagon for other parts. He will
always remember his trip as one of the rainbow-tinted ex-
periences of his life.
Having surfeited myself with fishing at Ponhook, and
mentally anathematized the Indians for dipping such quan-
tities of this valued fish, I returned to the forks, where, by
the way, is a very neat and comfortable house for Avayfarers.
I then drove off to Greenfield, a little mill toAvn on the Port
Medway, where a canoe was to meet me, so that I could fish
down stream.
Did you never hear of Saul the Indian ? He is the king
of fly-fishermen in this region, as well as the chief of his
tribe. He can tie a fly as neatly as our friend Michael at
Andrew Gierke's; and as for the number of salmon he has
in a single season killed, on a beautiful rod of his own man-
ufacture, I dare not trust my memory to tell. How many
miles we have tramped together! how often have we been
wet to the skin ! We used to start from Mill VillagO; near
the mouth of the Port Medway River, walk our six miles to the
third falls, fish all day, and tramp back with the weight of two
salmon over our shoulders. If we caught more than we could
carry, we sent a wagon for them. But now, with our canoe,
it was all luxurious ease. A noble stream is the Port Med-
way, where we launched our bark below the dam at Green-
field, seventeen miles above salt water. Rapidly and with
somewhat turbulent current it tumbles on its winding course
for a few miles, sometimes under water-willows that overarch,
and anon under the glare of the full sunlight ; and when no
drive of logs is running, the angler can pick out a salmon
here and there from occasional pools. But the best fishing
is below, where the river flows for the most part with a deep,
still volume one hundred yards wide, and at intervals is
broken by the most glorious falls that salmon ever leaped.
NOVA SCOTIA. 125
At tlio second falls there is a large island, which the river
has cut off from the shore by a shallow stream ; and hero is
the place to catch big trout. With a canoe the angler can
"do " the Port Medway in a day, and take stage for Bridge-
water on the Laliave, a dismal journey of twenty-eight miles
tlu'ough the woods, relieved only by a glass of poor gin sold
on the sly at a shanty — for they have the Maine liquor law
in the two counties of Lunenburg and Queens. Bibulous
individuals must go thirsty till they reach Halifax county,
unless specially provided for, or compassionated by wayside
taverners.
The Lahave River and the Petite Rivii^re, a few miles fur-
ther east, had been almost ruined for fishing by dams and
drives of logs, but have been replenished within two years
by the efforts of the fishery officers. From Lahave to Indian
River the stage route passes along the coast through a dis-
trict of the most picturesque description, and full of novelty
to the tourist. Civilization now begins, and the road is
excellent. Rattling out of the active little town of Bridge-
water, over the bridge that spans the river and along the
river's bank for two or three miles, we pass huge saw-mills,
with great lumber-ships alongside receiving cargo, and coast-
ing-vessels beating up stream ; then cross a stretch of farm-
ing country and arrive at Lunenburg town, a place of con-
siderable wealth and industry. Thence skirting the shore
of Mahone Bay, we pass- a succession of hamlets and fishing-
stations. From land far out to sea the bay is filled with
islands, some clad with gi*eenest verdure, others merely huge
white cliffs of rocks that gleam like beacons in the sun.
Brooks cross the road and tumble into the brine. Inshore
are lakes and ponds, into some of which the ocean dashes its
spray when storms excite it. Frequently the stage-road
crosses a natural causeway so narrow that an angler might
cast his line, first into the fresh water on the left and then
into the salt upon the right. Here is the Mushamush River,
another salmon stream, from which the fish, until lately, had
126 NOVA SCOTIA.
been long excluded by artificial obstacles. Hero is Martin's
Cove, wliere a storm drove in two years ago, and played
havoc with the fishing houses and smacks, shivering tliem to
atoms and sweeping them out to sea. When the day is fine
the scenery along this route is most euchanting ; but not
unfrequently fogs roll in and beset the traveler, shutting out
the view for hours. Then as suddenly they roll away, and
the landscape gleams forth again, trailsplendent with tenfold
beauty in the welcome sunlight. And now wc come to Ches-
ter Basin, island-gemmed and indented with many a little
cove ; and far out to sea, looming up in solitary gi'andeur, is
Aspotogon, a mountain headland said to be the highest land
in Nova Scotia. Tho road follows the shore for many a mile,
and then turns abruptly up the beautiful valley of Gold
River, the finest of all the salmon streams of this grand
locality. In it there are eleven glorious pools, all within two
miles of each other, and others for several miles above at
longer intervals. Above the first series a canoe should be
used. The lower stream affords a succession of unobstructed
casts such as I have never seen for elbow-room and sweep of
line on any other stream. We halt for a moment where the
stage-road crosses the bridge, and look wistfully into the vista
above, wherethe black waters come whirling doAvn, cool and
dehcious, flecked with foam. Just beloAv us there is a splen-
did pool, and we can see Indian John and his boys beside a
boulder at the tail of it, dipping. Upon the grassy bank be-
hind are four dilapidated wigwams of hemlock bark, with
quilts suspended across the entrances, seiwing for doors. It is
evident the salmon are running lively, or the Indians would
not be here. Fain would we tarry ; but we must wait for the
morrow, and dream of its joys to-night in Chester. So, leav-
ing word for Johnny and Joe to expect us in the morning,
we drive to Charley Lovett's hospitable inn, six miles farther.
There we shall enjoy the full fruition of the angler's hopes,
Avithout one drawback or vexation to mar its ripe perfection.
"There'll be no soitow there." Private parlor and bedroom
NOVA SCOTIA.
127
with gossamer curtains; sliccts snowy white; bouquets of
wild flowers, renewed every day ; boots blacked in the morn-
ing ; a rising bell, or a little maid's tap at the door ; break-
fast under hot covers — broiled salmon, baked trout with
cream, omelettes, toast, broiled beefsteak, (everybody else fries
it down there,) coffee, eggs, milk, wild honey, and " all that
sort of thing ad libitum, ad mfinitumr At seven o'clock,
sharp, every morning, the wagon is brought to the door and
loaded. In the hinder part we stow a hamper of biscuit and
cheese, sandwiches, cold ham, sardines, sometimes a boiled
lobster (they catch them here by the thousand and can them
for market), hard-boiled eggs, bottles of claret and Bass's beer,
a big chunk of ice, a couple of lemons, salt, pepper, and
sugar, with all table utensils necessary ; also pickles. This
is for luncheon. We never cany pie ; it squashes. Under
the seats we place our waterproofs, Avading trousers, and extra
boots and socks ; then we light pipes or cigars and mount
to our seats ; Charley hands us our rods, which we nurse
tenderly, and giving the word " go," we rattle off under the
respectful but admiring gaze of a dozen lobster-crackers
going to Avork in. the factory, and of all the early risers in
the village. For, be it known, this diurnal departure and the
arrival of the stage at noon, are the great events of the pass-
ing days.
At sundown the wagon w^ill be sent to the river to bring
us back Avith our trophies. It is a great satisfaction to be
able to exhibit the trophies of one's skill or endeavor The
two greatest rewards of effort are the accomplishment of
something to be done, and the praise AA'hich folloAvs success.
Indeed, they are the only substantial pleasures of life. Poor
satisfaction is it to catch fish Avhen j^ou cannot bring them
home ; indifferent reward to contemplate by one's self a hard-
AA'on conquest after days of travel and nights of toil, Avith
only a wilderness stream to reflect the image of his disgust
and discontent. Chester is one of the very fcAV places Avhere
the luxury of fishing can be enjoyed without this alloy,
I
128
NOVA SCOTIA.
And there is not only one river, but three, within six miles
of your home. You can drive half way to Gold River, and
fish the Middle River, a tolerable stream, or take the oppo-
site direction to the East River, a glorious runway for
salmon, with splendid falls and cold brooks tumbling into
it at intervals, at the mouth of which large trout can bo
caught two at a time, if the angler be skilful enough to land
them when they are hooked. If one chooses, he can put np
at Mrs. Frails's, upon the very'bank of this stream, and take
his morning and evening fishing, with a noon siesta and a
quiet cigar and book ; and it is not improbable that he will
meet some officers from Halifax, now thirty-nine miles away
by the stage route. BetAveen this and Indian River, before
mentioned, there is no good fishing.
Three pleasant seasons have I spent at Chester. I idolize
its very name. Just below my window a lawn slopes down
to a little bay with a jetty, where an occasional sloop lands
some stores. There is a large tree, under which I have
placed some seats ; and off the end of the pier the ladies can
catch flounders, tomcods, and cunners, in any quantity.
There are beautiful drives in the vicinity, and innumerable
islands in the bay, where one can bathe and picnic to hearts'
content. There are sailing-boats for lobster-spearing and
deep-sea fishing, and row-boats too. From the top of a
neighboring hill is a wonderful panorama of forest, stream,
and cultivated shore, of bays and distant sea, filled with
islands of every size and shape. Near by is a marsh where I
flushed fourteen brace of English snipe one day in July.
And if one will go to Gold River, he may perchance see, as
I have done, cariboo quietly feeding on the natural meadows
along the upper stream. Beyond Beech Hill is a trackless
forest filled with moose, with which two old hunters living
near oft hold familiar intercourse. They trapped a wild-cat
last summer, ahd his stuffed skin is at Chester now.
Very much should I like to go over the ground again with
the reader, or take him, in imagination at least, to the in-
NOVA SCOTIA. 129
viting pools of Gokl River ; Imt this chapter must draw to a
close. Two miles up the stream, a friend has a camp where
once stood an Indian wigwam, whoso tenants enjoyed a
happy honeymoon of vagrant life and salmon dipping ; but
disaster fell upon them one day, and the incidents thereof
arc herewith portrayed in rhyme :
There's a little conical camp,
Contrived of a framework of ppnice,
With splits newly riven of hemlock,
Exuding an odorous juice.
A lawn from the door gently sloping,
To lave in the river's bright gleam ;
A pathway by feet daily trodden
Quite smooth to the edge of the stream.
In front of the wigwam an eddy,
Beyond a i)recii)itou« shore,
Where the foam dashes down with madness.
And whirls with monotonous roar :
And bubbles, fonned in the seething,
Are tossed by the waves to the shore —
Then, floating awhile in the eddy,
Come ui) and break, at the door.
At eve, through the dusk of the gloaming,
Leonta, with love's yearning soul,
Awaiteth her husband's returning
From his nets at " Kill Devil Hole."
And often and often she looketh,
Where sunset reddens the west,
For glimpse of his bark-boat careering
Far up on the stream's foaming crest.
(For danger lurks there in the chasm ;
Elf-goblins make it their home ;
The phantoms that flit there and flutter,
Are winding-sheets wrought of the foam !)
In vain ! and with tearful misgivings.
Till darkness settles at last !
Eyes strained, and swelled with long weeping !
A messenger cometh at last—
9
130
NOVA SCOTIA.
A wnif, drifting hIow in tho eddy,
A form through the dusk dimly seen —
Drifting slow, with a clmckle und ripple,
Like cadences soft of Undine.
With motion so strange and uncertain,
It seems both to come and retreat ;
Till finally, fears all confirming,
A corpse Hoateth up to her feet.
Heaven rest the agonized watcher !
Forefend her from pain evermore I
Poor heart ! now stilled by its breaking,
Like the bubbles that broke oy her door I
The wind sweepeth by with a flurry.
And swiftly the wild waters roll ;
But neither winds nor waves shall eflace,
The legend of " Kill Devil Hole."
• CAPE BRETON.
rC~C>=-
ITII the exception of the Murgario River, which is
one of the most romantic and best-stocked salmon-
rivers in the world, and occasionally visited by an
ambitious or adventurous angler from other parts,
little is known by outsiders of the waters of Cape
Breton. There are other fishing localities so much more ac-
cessible, and attainable with less hardship and expense, that
they are generally preferred ; while, if a party bo found to
extend their researches to ultimate regions, they are apt to
go to the Lower St. Lawrence, whither the tide of inclination
now tends. Nevertheless, the journey to Cape Breton is
shorter in time, clieaper, and in all respects more comfort-
able than to the Lower St. Lawrence ; for its remotest parts
can be easily reached by shallop from Port Hood on the one
side, and Sydney on the other, with each of which places
there is communication by steamboat ; while, for the voyage
down the St. Lawrence one must procure a shallop at Que-
bec, and sail along shore for hundreds of miles.
A steamboat runs daily from Pictou to Port Hood, and
thence there is a stage journey of twenty-eight miles to Why-
kokomah, on Bras d'Or Lake, the Mediterranean of this land
of wonderful conformation. This is the only staging on the
whole route between New York and Sydney ! Whykoko-
mah, like some village of Switzerland, is situated at the
head of a beautiful bay in the bosom of an amphitheatre of
133
CAPE BRETON.
frowning hills, which rise to a vast eminence. From this vil-
lage an interior steamboat traverses Bras d'Or Lake to Sydney,
touching at two or three places on the trip. A steamboat
also runs from Hahfax to Ilawksbury in the Strait of Canso,
and there connects with a steamboat for Port Hood. From
Sydney there is a daily line of stages to Pictou, by which ac-
cess is had to the few salmon-streams of Richmond county.
This drive of one hundred and fifty miles, long though it
seems, is of the most enjoyable character, and is well worth
the while. For the first fourth of the distance it skirts the
base of a mountain-chain that crowds down to the very
shore of one of the arms of Lake Bras d'Or ; then traversing
a country of constantly varying scenery it crosses the Strait
of Canso, with its bold highlands and deep channels con-
stantly crowded with vessels when the wind is light; then
skirts the base of the Tracadie Mountains, and touches the
water again at Antigonish ; then traverses the valley of the
Antigonish Mountain range, and on to the coal-mines of
New Glasgow, and thence quickly to Pictou. For a fort-
night's summer cruise, none can be more novel than one
from New York or Boston which includes this round trip
from Pictou to Sydney by stage, and return by steamboat.
Tho geographical features of Cape Breton are mountain
and . -.e. Place the open hand palm downward upon an
area six times its size, and you have nearly the outline of
Lake Bras d'Or — the fingers representing the several bodies
of water known as the East Bay, the Little Bras d'Or, the
Great Bras d'Or, and St. Patrick's Channel, which extends
into the Bedeque River, and the thumb a large bay that
reaches almost to the Great Bay of St. Peter's on the east.
All these several vast sheets of water are indented by innu-
merable coves, inlets, and inflowing streams. The whole
western shore bordering the Gulf of St. Lawrence, is a suc-
cession of highlands that almost attain the dignity of a
mountain range, slashed at long intervals by gorges through
which rivers like the Margarie flow to the Gulf. Some of
CAPE BEETON^.
133
tlie slopes arc cultivated, but the greater part is a wilderness.
Mountain ranges everywhere traverse the interior. They
circumscribe the entire peninsula which embraces the two
counties of Inverness and Victoria, and inclose a terra incog-
nita, known only to the Indians and moose-hunters. Nearly
all the rivers of Inverness are frequented by salmon and
large sea-trout, while Victoria possesses the noble Margarie
with its several branches, and the magnificent mountain
lake from which its volume is supplied.
This lake is easily reached by wagon from Whykokoraah.
The angler Avho has once driven through Ainshe Glen to its
shores, launched his canoe upon its broad waters, and en-
tered its swiftly running stream, will never be content to
return until he has fished its successive pools to its very
mouth. And when the next summer comes with its season
of pleasure, he will long to live his experience over again.
.... )■
NEW BRUNS\VICK.
■EW BRUNSAVICK is a region of magnificent dis-
tances — an area of remarkable diversity, whose cen-
tral portion is a wilderness two hundred miles in
diameter, interspersed with mountains and lakes.
Great rivers penetrate its interior in every direction,
sending out branches and tributaries as numerous and in-
tricate as the ramifications of a tree, each one containing sal-
mon, or trout, or both together, and hundreds of which have
never been fished by white men at all ! Often the sources
of the main streams are so contiguous that a portage of only
a mile or two is necessary to pass from one to the other.
These are the sole thoroughfares through the wilderness for
traveler and sportsman ; and the angler who elects to spend
a vacation there need not establish himself in a permanent
camp at one pool alone, crowded for elbow-room, but he has
the entire range of the water-courses. Travel — progress — be-
comes the business, and fishing at best pools only the mere
incidents of his voyage. The great Restigouche is two hun-
dred miles long ; the Nepissiguit one hundred ; the Tobique
one hundred and fifty ; the Upsalquitch, a tributary of the
Restigouche, ninety miles; and the Miramichi over two
hundred and thirty miles from its mouth to North Branch
Lake, which is the source of the North Branch, which is a
branch of the South-west Miramichi, which is a branch of
NEW BRUNSWICK. 135
the main river. Tht^n there is a Uttle South-Avest Miramiehi,
and the South Branch of it, and the Little South Branch of
that, the Little North Branch, and the Upper North Branch.
Then there is the North-west Miramiehi with its East Branch,
its South Branch, and so on, divisibly and indefinitely. If a
friend tells you he has fished the Miramiehi River, never dare
to doubt his word. If he has ever visited that part of New
Brunswick, it is doubtful if he has fished " anything else."
There is a portage from the North-west Miramiehi into
the Nepissiguit, and from the Nepissiguit into the Tobique,
and from the South-west Miramiehi into the Nashwaak.
The Nashwaak empties into the St. John midway between
AYoodstock and Grand Falls. There are also portages from
the Nepissiguit into the Upsalquitch ; from the Richibucto
into Salmon River; and from the Upper Restigouche to
Grand River, which empties into the St. John above the
Grand Falls. Although these river routes cannot be recom-
mended for invalids and the general public, they are never-
theless very short cuts from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the
State of Maine.
The Richibucto, Miramiehi, Nepissiguit, and Restigouche
Rivers are reached from Shediac by the Gulf Port steamers
weekly, and by the North Shore Line of steamers which
leave Shediac every Thursday, connecting with the railway
from St. John. The Nashwaak, Tobique, and Grand Rivers
are accessible from St. John by daily steamer or stage ; and
the two last-named can be reached from Calais, Maine, by
the New Brunswick and Canada railway to Woodstock, and
thence by coach. During a high stage of water little steam-
ers run the whole distance from the city of St. John to the
Grand Falls. An excursion steamer also runs from St. John
to Salmon River through the Grand Lake. This river is of
no account to the angler ; and as for the Richibucto, it is
more noted for its lumber-mills and ship-yards than its salmon.
There is fair trout fishing in the vicinity of St. John, at
Loch Lomond, the Mispeck River, and Spruce Lake ; also
136 NEW BKUNSWICK.
up the line of the E. & N. A. Railway, l^irougli Sussex Vule,
especially in Pollet River, which is reached by wagon from
Anagance Station. At this point is the source of the Peti-
codiac River, the only river at the head of the Bay of Fundy
to which salmon resort to spawn. Twentj'-eight miles fur-
ther on, at Moncton, is the great bend of tlie Peticodiac,
where can be seen the phenomena of the gi'cat " bore" or
tidal wave of the Bay of Fundy and the highest tides in
the world, Avhich here rise seventy-six feet ! The tide flows in
at the rate of seven miles an hour, and the " bore" in spring
is sometimes six feet high. The rushing of this overwhelm-
ing wave is accompanied by a noise like distant thunder.
There is an excellent hotel at Moncton, which affords a
pleasant summer boarding-place for tourists. The shops of
the Intercolonial Railway fiQiUpmnyjrr located here.
A few salmon are caught with fly, in the rivers to the east-
ward of St. John, and a few in the tributaries of the St.
John River ; but there is very little opportunity for satisfoc-
tory and successful angling south of the latitude of Frederic-
ton, although salmon are caught by thousands in nets at the
mouths of rivers and all along shore, and constitute a very
considerable item of revenue to the Province. Indeed, the
whole Province has been a sort of close corporation since
the Government took the fisheries under its fostering pro-
tection and control. In Kings county all the principal rivers
have been set apart for natural propagation. In Victoria,
all the salmon rivers, including the noble Tobique and its
tributaries, ave reserved for like purposes. And all the
streams of any account whatever, not thus appropriated, are
leased to private parties and guarded by chamberlains and
wardens to warn off trespassers and arrest poachers. In the
good old days a man could cast his line right and left ad
libitum in every river and stream, regardless of times and
seasons. Indians could spear in the spawning-beds, and dip
where dams and falls obstructed the passage of the fish,
maiming and destroying thousands of fish and countless mil,-
NEW BRUNSWICK, 137
lions of undeveloped spawn ; mercenary white men, with an
eye to present emolument only, might stretch their nets
across every channel so as to capture all the salmon that at-
tempted to run up. Those were glorious days of freedom,
when every one could do as he pleased, and liberty was full-
est license to cut off one's own and his neighbor's future sup-
ply of flsh-food. But now, the oppressed and law-beleaguered
angler has no show at all unless he leases a river himself or
can manage " to get a rod in" through the acquaintance or
courtesy of a friend and lessee. To be sure, the favored few
who lease the rivers can count the trophies of their summer's
fishing by the hundred or thousand, and find their privileges
becoming more valuable year by year, as the stock of fish in-
creases by protected propagation ; but then it seems hardly
fair that those who purchase monopolies or exclusive rights
should enjoy them alone. They ought at least to divide
with the outside public. Besides, since the dawn of the era
of leases and protection a new impulse has been given to
fly-fishing. Every' pin-hook fisherman is suddenly seized
with a yearning to catch salmon. No other kind of fish will
satisfy them. There are no restrictions upon trout-rods in
any of the streams ; but trout are too small game. What
sweetness grows in fruit that is forbidden !
Just imagine a hundred tyros on a single stream, wielding
rods as cumbrous as the pine-tree top with which Pol3'phemus
bobbed for whales, and threshing the air with a sivis-s-sh
that imitates a small tornado passing ! What chances for a
"glorious rise "when their entomological devices drop into
the water with a splash, or their lines fall flat with many an
inextricable coil and snarl ! What fortunes small boys might
make by chmbing trees for the flies, gut-lengthtj, and leaders
which the neophytes have tangled in the overarching limbs
while fishing ! By all means, Messrs. Fish Commissioners,
open the rivers to the indiscriminate public, so that all may
have a chance.
At Fredericton we tread, the threshold of the " Salmo "
138 NEW BRUNSWICK.
kingdom. Continuing on to the Tobique Kiver, we will
prepare for a canoe voyage to the Nepissiguit, albeit we
are secluded from fishing for salmon. When we have
crossed tLo heights of land by the portage, and de-
scended to the Great Falls of Nepissiguit, we shall
doubtless receive an invitation from some of the lessees in
camp there to " wet a line." Years ago, it was a glorious
sight, at the mouth of the Tobique, to see the Indians spear-
ing salmon by torchlight. At a distance, in the night, the
torches looked like fire-flies flitting. There is an Indian
village here, and often there were not less than fifty men
spearing at once. Right glorious pastime is it to the novice
to sit in the middle of the canoe, when so fortunate as to
receive such a privilege, and watch the birch-bark torches
glinting and flashing over the surface of the stream, and
casting their lurid glare into the darksome depths. With a
motion that is wholly noiseless, and never lifting his paddle
from the water, the Indian in the stern slowly and cautiously
propels the little craft across the dark pools where the salmon
rest. Under the streaming smoke and showering sparks of
the torch in the bow, the spearman kneels motionless as a
statue, with spear at poise. And although the midges, or
minute sand-flies, swarm so thickly as to cast a sort of halo
about the torch, stinging his face and hands like nettles or
red-hot pepper, not a muscle moves. Down at the bottom,
twenty feet below, we can see every pebble. There are
salmon lying there too, but too deep down to strike, for the
spear-handle is no more than twelve feet in length. Once
in a w^hile a big fish sculls slowly along nearer the surface.
Ha! what's that? A subaqueous shadow i'hot by like a
rocket! Larry had raised his spear, but the fish was too
quick for him. Slower and more cautiously we move. The
progress is scarcely perceptible. More motionless than ever
the statue in the bow appears. No salmon yet. Now we
are at the head of the " reach," and turning ever so silently,
glide down stream with the cun'cnt. The paddle in the
NEW BRUNSWICK. 139
stern is totally at rest now. A zephyr could not pass more
noiselessly. Looking steadily over the side, all the pebbles
on the bottom seem to be running up stream like lightning.
Now a huge boulder, and anon a straggling limb of a sunken
tree, shoots by like a flash. One would hardly think it
possible to strike even one of those boulders, so swiftly do
we pass. Yet we are only drifting with the current. Whew !
how the midges bite ! " Bite-em-no-see-em," the Indians
call them. No matter — we must suffer and endure. Yet
'tis almost unbearable. Oh! for relief! Great heavens!
what has happened ! Larry overboard ! No ! he has struck
a salmon. Do you say so ? I declare I didn't see him strike,
and I was looking just there all the time! The first I knew
the canoe nearly capsized, and I thought Larry was over-
board! Now he lifts the fish into the canoe. What a
whopper it is, and what a splash he gives as he breaks the
surface ! A twenty-pounder, I declare ! Do you observe
how he is struck — perpendicularly amidships, with the iron
tine of the spear driven into his back, and the two elastic
hickory jaws grasping him firaily on cither side. A fish
struck so squarely can never get away. If they are mutilated
at all, it is generally in the fleshy part of the tail, where the
spear catches them when they dart away. Gracious! this
salmon will flop out of the canoe ! No — a quietus on the
head with the paddle ! Now let us go ashore. It is wonder-
fully exciting, I admit ; but then these sand-flies ! We start
in the morning, I believe.
At early dawn the prows of the canoes are discerned peer-
ing above the bank on the little point of land that juts out
opposite the Indian village, just where the Tobique joins
the St. John. Four stalwart Indians are stretched upon the
ground near by, and a httle fire is blazing at their feet.
" Halloa ! Are you the men who are to take us up river?"
" I suppose."
" Canoes all tight and dry, eh ? "
"Yes J canoe dry." '.
140 ' KEW BRUKSWICK.
" How far is it to the portage ? "
" Portage — yes."
" How far — how many miles ? "
" Dunno."
" Fifty miles, you think ? "
" I suppose."
. " Sixty miles ? "
■ "Yes."
"Thirty?"
" Yes — suppose thirty."
« Five hundred ? "
"Yes."
" Plenty salmon up there ? "
• "Yes — plenty."
" Any moose ? "
" Yes — moose too ? "
" Moose cllmh a tree ? "
• "Yes."
When an Indian is a total stranger to you he ans"vyers "yes"
to all questions. Whether it be for reasons diplomatic, or to
avoid all occasion for differences of opinion, the noble choco-
late-colored red man is invariably non-committal. It cannot
be said that he ever leads the conversation.
" I say, what's your name — you with the pipe ? Are you
John?"
, "Yes."
" Well, John, let us put out. The sun is getting up and
the day will be hot. Come, men, stir yourselves."
In half an hour the canoes are loaded and ready for a
start. The passenger sits on the bottom, facing up stream,
with his back against the middle bar, over which coats or
blankets have been thrown to make him comfortable. All
the boxes, sacks, and hampers have been stowed amidships,
just behind. The two canoe-men take their places in the
bow and stern, and with long setting-poles, deftly wielded,
gently push the frail craft into the current. There, holding
NEW BRUNSWICK. 141
her for an instant firmly, with poles set squarely on the bot-
tom, they give way with simultaneous effort and send her a
full length forward. The two hundred mile voyage has now
commenced.
Poling up stream is as much like descending with the cur-
rent as dragging a sled up hill is like sliding down. Two
miles an hour is good average speed, and twenty miles a fair
day's journey. It is marvelous with what untiring energy
and pertinacious effort the Indians mount the long and
wearisome rapids. N^ever pausing, seldom speaking, pushing
steadily with simultaneous stroke, the monotonous cHck of
their iron-shod poles upon the bottom seems to mark the
time. Now they pick up inch by inch in the quickest cur-
rent, where to miss a stroke is to lose a rod, the stern-man
seconding with electric quickness each effort of the bow-man.
Anon they swing over to the other side, to take advantage
of an easier passage, meanwhile borne downward by the tide
and dancing like a feather. Here they run up on an eddy
to the face of a protruding boulder with the white foam dash-
ing by on either side, and, gathering up their strength, push
into the rushing tide and up the steep ascent Sometimes
they climb actual falls, driving the prow inch by inch to the
base of the cascade, where, holding on an instant firmly to
gain a little purchase, they force the canoe by amazing dex-
terity up the pitch until it poises on the very curve at an
angle of forty-five. Here the stern-man holds hard, the
bow-man with the quickness of a flash gathers up his polo
and holds, the stern-man follows suit, and then both
together, by one desperate, vigorous shoot, force her into
smooth water. During this process the passenger clutches
the sides of the canoe like grim death, and when all is safely
over breathes a wonderful sigh of relief. But the first effort
of the canoe-men does not always succeed. Sometimes the
current forces the canoe back in spite of every resistance,
and then she drops down stream swiftly, though safely, stern
foremost, guided by the ever-ready expedients of the voya-
142 NEW BRUNSWICK.
geurs. A second attempt must then be made. Occasionally
the labor is varied by a spurt with the paddles over a long
reach of still water, or the water runs over a bar so shoal that
all hands have to get out and wade, to lift the canoe over.
All this experience is very exciting and interesting for the
first few miles. The sportsman is delighted with the fresh-
ness of the novelty; with the vivid green of the foliage
sparkling with morning dew ; with the rush of the cool and
limpid waters, and the lullaby motion of the craft ; with the
towering hills and leafy woods that hallow his seclusion ; and
the gentle breeze that wafts the smoke of his cigar astern.
But when it comes to a matter of two or three hundred
miles, with a journey of twenty days duration, the romance
wears off. In its more practical bearings the voyage resolves
itself into a period of sheer dogged effort — an obstinate over-
coming of mechanical forces by insufficient leverage ; a test
of temper and physical endurance ; and a slow match against
time. Sitting in the comfort of one's slippers and cigar, with
the blaze of a winter's fire kindUng old reminiscences, one is
apt to forget the miseries of camp-life. Of the cloud in the
back-ground he sees only the silver lining. Like the Avrecked
and gasping sailor who swears never to go to sea again, vv^itli
the restoration that follows rescue, he remembers only the
fascinations of his ocean life, and ships Avith the first fair wind.
Let not the reader forget that he who would enjoy the
charms and freedom of forest life, must also put up with its
drawbacks and discomforts. When the first flush of the
morning exhilaration is over, and the day grows sultry ; when
the Indians begin to reek and perspire Avith their exertions ;
when the limbs become cramped and ache from their con-
fined position ; when the black flies swarm and attack with
persistent venom ; when all the birds and beasts have retired
to umbrageous cover, — then the voyage becomes painfully
monotonous; the everlasting click of the setting-poles grates
sharply upon the nerves ; the woods are painfully still ; the
river gurgles in doleful monotones over the rocks ; a given
>. 0.
NEW BRUNSWICK. 143
object in the channel above seems to keep in sight for liours ;
body and limbs are sweltering; joints twinge with aching;
the mouth and tongue grow parclied with tliirst, and mouth-
fuls of warm river-water, hastily gulped, are as quickly spewed
out again. How grateful then is a copious draught from an
ice-cold brook whicli comes tumbling into the river from its
mountain source ! How delicious the shade of the cool ledge
under which we take our nooning ! Precious then is a bot-
tle of Bass's ale, set in the brook to cool, and drank with our
frugal meal.
Very romantic is the scenery of the Tobique for the first
eleven miles. One mile above the mouth commence the
rapids of the " Narrows." The river at this place passes
through a chasm of an average Avidth of only one hundred
and fifty feet, wi^^' perpendicular cliffs from fifty to one hun-
dred feet high. Through this contracted channel, too nar-
row to give free vent to the waters above, the river surges
and rushes with great impetuosity, and the projecting crags
of rock form violent whirlpools which render the passage
impossible for canoes in time of freshets. The " Narrows "
continue for a mile, and then give place to a long reach of
smooth but rapid water. In the next ten miles there are
two more rapids, and above an unbroken stretch of clear,
deep water for seventy miles, with settlements along the
banks at intervals. Twenty-one miles above the upper
rapids, the Wapskanegan flows in from the east, and thirteen
miles further on the Agulquac. Between these two tribu-
taries the Tobique is filled with beautiful islands, with ex-
tensive fertile intervales on both its banks. Still proceeding
northward, the character of the river, with its intervales and
islands, remains unchanged, and its beauty is increased by
the lofty hills seen in the distance. Eighty miles from its
mouth are the " Forks," where four branches of the Tobique
come together; and from this point the country becomes
broken and very mountainous, and the river narrow.
• Cedar Brook is usually the last camping-ground for
144 NEW DRUXSWICK.
anglers befi)ro roacliing the portage. It Is not a first-rato
place, for the brush is thick and the ilics insatiable ; but
there is a delicious rushing brook, Avith a patriarchal cedar
overhanging its margin. Weary with the long day's journey,
Ave will hastily construct a camp after the ai)proved Indian
fashion, by hauling the canoes on shore, turning them half-
way over, and sui)porting them by the paddles. Such a
shelter Avill cover head and shoulders, and in a tine night,
with a good fire blazing at the feet and the lower limbs cov-
ered with a blanket to keep off the morning dew, is all that
one can desire. After suppcj and i)ipcs the eyes grow drowsy,
the eyelids close, and the senses are hushed to slumber by
the rippling lullaby of the ever-gurgling brook that Hows
noisily by. Rising with the daAvn, and refreshed by break-
fast and a bath beibrc the inevitable black flies make their
appearance, the canoes are slid into the Avatcr, the poles com-
. mence their pegging programme, and the voyage is contin-
ued through a channel that is narroAV and Avinding, and
obstructed by jams of logs and fallen trees Avhich often have
to be cut aAvay to effect a passage. But presently Ave emerge
into a pretty pool, and then mount a rapid overarched by
trees Avhicli spring from picturesque ledges of rock ; thence,
traversing a slialloAv lake, Ave pass through a difficult channel
of almost dead Avater among sombre pines, and suddenly
emerge into the magnificent basin of Nictor Lake, the head-
waters of this remarkable river.
The transition from the close confinement of the forest
and the naja*0Av river into this broad and beautiful expanse
of gleaming water is most exhilarating. Mountains, A'aric-
gated Avith the vivid foliage of the birch intei-spersed Avitli
darker shades of evergreen, enclose it on every side ; and
close to its southern edge " Bald Mountain " lifts its massiA-e
bulk to the height of nearly three thousand feet, wooded to
its summit, except Avhere it crops out in precipices of granite,
or long, gray, shingly slopes. And in the lake itself, in the
shadow of the mountain, is a little, enchanting islet. This is
NEW BRUNSWICK. 145
tlio liighest land in New Bmnswick, and from the summit
of Bald Mountain is a wondrous view. Millions of acres of
forest, inten-ipersed with lakes, and rivers that gleam in the
sunshine like silver threads, arc spread out like a map
beneath, while Katahdin and Mara Uill in Mvine, Tracadic-
gash in Gaspe, the 8(piaw's Cap on the llestigouehe, and
Green Mountain in Victoria couniy, are all distinctly visible
ni the distance. AVhat a Paradise for a fortnight's sojourn 1
From Nictor Lake the route is up a little stream, winding
through a hardwood forest directly under the shoulder of
the great mountain, into another lake about four miles long,
and thence up a little reedy inlet to the portage. Here, the
canoes and camp-stuff are carried two miles to the Nepissi-
guit Lakes, the head of the Noi)issiguit River ; and thence
the journey is all down-hill to the sea. No more arduous
poling — no more struggling up rapids! How easy it is to
drift with the current !
At these beautiful lakes, among this mountain scenery, it
were well to tan*y for a few days. Beavers build their dams
across the streams ; deer abound in the woods, and trout in
every brook.
The descent of the Nepissiguit is somewhat monotonous,
though the river runs swiftly throughout its whole course,
and is broken by frequent falls and rapids. Its upper part
winds its way between pei-pendicular cliffs, and through a
mountainous wilderness. Some thirty miles above its mouth
are the " NaiTows," a series of formidable rapids hemmed in
by precipices of slate rocks. Ten miles furtjljer down are
the Great Falls. But of these, and the river Below, I shall
speak in the chapter assigned to the salmon-rivers of the
Bay Chaleur. No salmon are taken in the Nepissiguit above
the Great Falls.
The Miramichi is a Salmon-river much in favor with the
angling fraternity. The favorite fishing-grotnds begin at a
point nearly one hundred miles from its mouth, and are
reached by stage from Newcastle to Boiestown, a distance of
10
140 NEW BRUNSWICK.
some sixty miles. The intcrmediatfi country is settled and
cultivated, and there arc straggling liouscs and clearings be-
yond Boiestown. The stage-road continues tiirough tiio
wilderness from Boiestown, cutting olf an immense bend of
the Miramichi, and strikci^ tlio IS'ashwaak lliver at Stanley
Post Oiiice, and Cross Creek Settlement. Thence it con-
tinues to the liiver St. John and Frcdericton, Sportsmen,
however, who are seeking wild advoiture, will j)refer to take
canoes at Boiestown, and ascend to the Miramichi Lakes;
then portage over to the Nashwaak, and descend tluit river.
TliO principal salmon-pools of all the rivers are generally
near the mouths of brooks and larger tributaries. So, in the
Miru hi, wo find the favorite fishing-stands are at Salmon
Brook, Eocky Brook, Clearwater Brook, and Burnt Hill
Brook, successively as wo ascend. These are about ten miles
apart. At Grassy Island, near Bunit Uill Brook, the river
runs swiftly through a narrow gorge, and is broken into
numberless eddies as it strikes the rocks that are scattered
through the channel. Here there are some famcnis casts,
and upon a sunken ledge the angler can wade out to the
very edge of the deep waters, and (iovcr the entire channel
with his line from his feet to the other side.
After passing the i)ortage into the Nashwaak River, the
course lies through an undulating forest for thirty miles,
and then strikes the settlements which lino both sides of the
river to its confluence with the St. J;>hn. A few minutes
suffice to cross (he ferry to Fredericton, and then with mine
host of the Barker House all the comforts of civilization arc
attainable, and all the more relished after a fortnight's
roughing it in the woods.
Other principal salmon and trout rivers of the Province
are the Kouchiboucpuic and Kouchiboucjuasis (the termiiuil
"sis" in the Indian vemacular signifying "httle"), tiie Ta-
busintac, the Tracadie, the Pockmouche, the Caracpietto,
and the Upsalquitch. With the exception of the first .two
and the last-named, these rivers lie between the JVIiramichi
•
NliW BRUNSWICK. 147
and tlio Nopissipjiiit. Tlio ITpsiil(iuit(!h is generally fished by
llesti<ijoucliu anglers, and })ro])erly belongs to the JJiiy Chaleur
division. A stage-road runs from Chatham on the Miranii-
ehi to Bathurst, at the mouth of the Nepissiguit. The dis-
tance is forty-iive miles; nearly all through a wiUUfrness
almost uninhabited, and crossed by many an excellent trout-
stream. But the chief of all the streams, and perhajjs abso-
hitely the best in the world for trout, if such a comparison
can be fairly made, is the Tabusintac. Hero trout can be
caught by the barrel-full, of which 1 guarantee none will
weigh less than ten ounces, and the largest as much as live
or six pounds.
After a ride of twenty-two miles from Chatham to the Ta-
busintac, we cheerfully leave the coach on the hill at Har-
ris's, and bestx)w ourselves in the comfortable a])artments of
his snug little hostelry. There is aniple oj)portunity before
sunset to prepare for the sjjort to-morrow, and time for
a leisure stroll along the river, and about the i)remises; and
when that luxurious pipe which follows a Christian supper
has been twice replenished and em])tied, we are ready to re-
tiro for an early start in the morning. When daylight
dawns, there sAicceeds an experience not read of in books.
While wo are hastily munching our last mouthful of break-
fast, Harris j)olitc'ly informs us that the " horse-l)oat " is
ready, llorse-boat! what horse-boat? I thought we were
going in a birch-canoe! What have horses to do with trout-
fishing? N^importe, we shall see. Arrived at the river, wo
find an immense ])iroguc, "dug-out," or wooden canoo,
alongside the bank, in the stern of which we are told to sit.
Having adjusted ourselves to the mtisfaction of everyl)0(ly,
a pair (jf heavy horses is attached to the vehicle, the word is
given, and off we go down the river at a tearing pace, slash-
ing the water in every direction, and j)!oughing iij) a swell
that swashes against the banks, runs spitefully up on shore,
and then trickles down in rivulets of mud. Life on the
14:8 NEW BRUNSWICK.
"raging canawl" is nothing to it! Such quick time was
never made in the Erie ditch.
The best anghng gi'ounds are some eight or ten miles
down, but the horses are occasionally halted at a' good hole,
from which a few pound- trout are taken. Then they are
cracked up again, and away they gallop through brambles
and hazel brush, and under arching branches which droop so
low as to sweep off the deck-load clean and leave loose hats
floating twenty rods astern. The river is rather narrow and
in some places shalloAV, but so transparent that in the deepest
holes we can see the great trout swimming in schools that
darken the bottom. At the " Big Hole," however, is the place
to fish. I'liere the horses are tied up, and the sport begins.
No use putting on more than one fly here ! You are certain
to take as many, trout as there are hooks, every time ; and it
is no ordinary angler who can land two heavy fish from the
same cast. Here one can bring his barrel of salt and take
home his three barrels of fish dressed and split, at the end
of a week. Tliere are splendid camping places all along the
banks, which invite the angler to tarry long ; but a Aveek of
slaughter will he found sufficient. One tires of excess, even
in trout-fishing. To those who cast their liiues in ordinary
streams, these may seem fishermen's stories ; but truth it is that
four hundred and forty fish have been taken in one day from
the Tabusintac on a single heavy bait-rod !
Very few salmon visit these waters from year to year ; but
under the new regime and efforts of the Fishery Inspectors,
it is believed that they will presently become abundant.
We take the stage in the morning for Bathurst, on the Bay
Chaleur.
BAIE DES CHALEURS.*
'HE great Bay Chaleur or " Bay of Heats " divides
the Canadian district of Gaspo from the northern
counties of New Brunswick. It extends for more
than sixty miles from its entrance to the moutli of
the River Eestigouche. At that point it is three
miles wide, and receives the waters of -not less than sixty
rivers and streams ! Nearly all of these abound in sea-trout,
brook-trout or salmon, or all three together. From the early
period of its discovery and settlement, when, in 1578, no less
than 330 fishing vessels found remunerative fares within its
teeming waters, until the present day, the Bay Chaleur has
been a resort for fishermen. It was always noted for the
large size of its salmon ; and only as recently as thirty years
ago, they averaged eleven to the barrel of two hundred pounds.
Even now an occasional fish is caught weighing as mudi aa
forty pounds. Although both quantity and size of fish had
greatly diminished previously to 18G8 (at which time the
New Dominion Fishery Inspection was established), the ex-
port continued large in fresh fish packed in ice and in cans,
and smoked. Since the rivers have been protected, the stock
of fish has rapidly increased, and the principal streams are
regaining their old prestige.
* See Haq^er's Magazine, Vol. XXXVI., page 424.
150 BAIE DES CHALEURS.
The Gulf Port steamers which ply weekly between Quebec
and Pictou, touch at Dalhousie and Campbelltown ; and the
North Shore steamers touch also at Bathurst at the mouth
of the Nepissiguit. The sportsman who has time for a
summer cruise should continuo his coach journey from the
Tabusintac to Bathurst, and putting up at John Ferguson's
hotel, examine the attractive little town with its shipyards,
its lumber-mills, its fish-canning estabhshments, its church
spires, court-house, handsome private residences, and adja-
cent farms. It is one of the most beautiful^ spots in the
Province. It is located upon two elevated points of land
connected by a bridge, and commands a picturesque view of
Bathurst Bay and its islands. Four rivers run together and
form a magnificent basin, along who"" undulating shores are
scattered pretty cottages '^nd frrm: . This town is supposed
to have been occupied ,. colonists of M. Jean Jacques
Enaud, as early as 1G38.
The season for fly-fishing in the Bay commences as late as
the 20th of June, and continues until the 20th of August ;
but the harvest-time is from the 20th of July until the 10th
of August. By the 1st of August the black flies have com-
pleted the period of their ranging to and fro upon {he face
of the earth, and the millennium commences. Here at
Bathurst the angler can take his carriage or wagon and drive
to the " Narrows," or to " Pabineau Falls," spend the day in
fishing, and then, encasing his scaly trophies in envelopes of
spruce boughs, tied neatly with cedar roots, stem, stern, and
amidships (to speak, in sailor lingo), lay tliem lovingly in the
bottom of his vehicle, and drive home elated by his good
fortune and the trophies of his skill.
The reader must constantly bear in mind that all these
delectable rivers are leased, and that these unusual privileges
are obtainable only by purchase or favor. The universal
panacea for one's envy in these cases is an application to the
Fisheries Department at Ottawa and a deposit of two hun-
dred dollars or so for a lease. •
BAIE DES .CHALEUR3. 151
All the, salmon-fishing of the Nepissiguit is included be-
tween its mouth and the " Great Falls." At the last locaUty
the river is very much contracted, and the banks arc rocky
and perpendicular. The total height of the FaUs is one
hundred and forty feet. There are four separate leaps, but
only the two lowest are visible from below. At the foot of
each are de6p basins, and below them for about a mile a
number of gloomy pools and rapids, which seethe Avith per-
petual foam and chafe with deafening roar. And the con-
stantly rising spray keeps ever fresh with a vivid green the
foliage that crowns the impinging chffs. Birds congregate
here in the summer heats, and luxuriate in the coolness of
the spray and verdure. Here in the spring, when drives of
logs come bowling down on the surge of the freshets, they
shoot the precipice with a terrific leap, and diving into the
projecting angles and ledges of rock end foremost, are often
splintered or shattered to pieces. It is a grand sight to see .
the logs careering on the tumbhng billows toward the
chasm — an ever-shifting, pitching, surging mass — and chen,
charging in close phalanx, or singly, and by twos and threes,
leap the frightful brink. Now one strikes its end upon a
hidden ledge, and plunges into the abyss w^th a desperate
somerset. Anon a veteran stick, some seventy feet long
and straight as an arrow, floats majestically down, scarcely
moved by the commotion, and with a stately dignity and
tremendous impetus clears the verge at a bound. For an
instant its vast length hangs in air, then turning quickly it
strikes the pool with a perpendicular fall on end, and direct-
ly vanishes from sight. For one long and anxious moment
it is lost in the black and unknown depths ; then suddenly
it shoots up from the surface like a great rocket, forcing
three-fourths of its length out of the water, totters for an
instant, and falling with a mighty splash, hurries down
stream to mingle with its fellows. I suppose that for wild
commotion and weird effects these falls are unsurpassed by
153 BAIE DES CHALEURS.
any; and the passage of the logs add materially to their fan-
tastic features.
After escaping from the gorge below, the Nepissiguit pur-
sues a quiet course between Ioav banks for a little more than
three niiles, and then tumbles over a succession of ridges
called the " Chain of Rocks/' Three or four miles further
down is another charming spot known as the Middle Land-
ing. Just below this spot is a splendid pool with a pretty
rocky island in it, called Betaboc, or " Rock Island in the
Long Pool." A plcasanter camping-ground can hardly be
imagined. The scenery of these several localities is by no
means imposing, but it is full of interest to those who love
the wayward and fantastic play of the purest waters, and all
those indescribable charms peculiar to the lone Avilderness.
Still farther down the river, and seven miles from Bathurst,
are the Pabineau or Cranberry Falls, which consist of a series
of chutes and small falls, declining, perhaps, within the space
of half a mile, at an angle of thirty degrees. The rocks,
which are a gray granite, frequently present the appearance
of massive masonry, so square and regular are they in form,
v/hile some isolated blocks look as if they had just been pre-
pared for the corner-stones of a stupendous edifice. Although
located in a dense forest, the rocks slope so gently and con-
veniently, and yet so boldly, to the very margin of the rapids
and pools, that one can enjoy the various prospects, both up
and down the river, with the greatest ease and comfort.
Midway between the Pabineau Falls and the mouth of the
Nepissiguit, there is a long reach of the river known as the
Rough Waters, where a number of huge rocky barriers have
been throAvn across the stream by a convulsion of Nature ;
the effect of this strange scenery would be^ gloomy and de-
pressing, were it not for the superb pools of deep and dark
water which take the fancy captive and magnetize the
nerves of the angler.
This river is leased by Nicholson of St. John, and three
other gentlemen.
' BAIE DES CHALEURS. 153
The next salmon river of importance up the Bay is the
lliver Jacquet, a rapid stream scarcely navigable for canoes,
leased a year ago by Dr. J. G. Wood, of Poiighkecpsie. Then
comes the River Charlo, with its two branches, a stream
much resorted to by the anglers of Dalhousic. A few miles
further is Eel River, which, although not a salmon stream,
aflfords fair trout-fishing, and a good run of sea-trout {Sahno
trutta), in their season. Across the mouth of this river, the
sea has thrown a natural sand-bar a mile in length, and
formed a large shalloAV basin, surrounded by low swampy
ground, which in the fall of the year actually swarms with
wild fowl of every variety. Here they stop to feed on their
migrations to the south — wild geese, brant, ducks, curlew,
snipe, sheldrakes, and the entire family of web-footed, yellow-
legged, and long-billed water birds. Xext comes the majestic
Rcstigouche, which forms the boundary line for seventy miles
between New Brunswick and Canada ; and on the opposite
side of the Bay are the several salmon streams of Gaspe — the
Great and Little Nouvelle Rivers, the Caspapediac, the Es-
cuminac, Bonaventure, and Port Daniel. The Caspapediac
is leased by Mr. Sheddon, of Montreal.
The Gaspe district is scantily wooded, and its shores are
occupied chiefly by fishing stations. Carleton is a pretty
town, to which a little steamer sometimes runs from Dal-
liousie, rendering the salmon streams in the vicinity quite
accessible. When the sun shines, its white cottages, nestling
at the foot of the majestic Tracadiegash Mountain, glisten
like snow-flakes against the sombre background, and gleam
out in lovely contrast with the clouds that cap the summit
of this outpost sentinel of the Alleghany range. Dalhousic
is situated on a headland, and with Maguasha Point guards
the entrance of the Rcstigouche, which is here three miles
wide. To a person approaching by steamer from the sea,
is presented one of the most superb and fascinating pan-
oramic views in Canada. The whole region is mountainous,
and almost precipitous enough to be Alpine j but its gran-
154 BAIE DES CHALEURS.
deur is derived less from cliffs, chasms, and peaks, tlian from
far-reaching sweeps of outline, and continually rising domes
that mingle with the clouds. On the Gaspe side precipitous
cliffs of brick-red sandstone flank the shore, so lofty that
they seem to cast their gloomy shadows half way across the
Bay, and yawning with rifts and gullies, through which fret-
ful torrents tumble into the sea. Behind them the moun-
tains rise and iiill in long undulations of ultra-marine, and,
towering above them all, is the famous peak of Tracadigash
flashing in the sunlight like a pale blue ametiiyst. On the
New Brunswick side the snowy cottages of Dalhousie climb
a hill that rises in three successive ridges, backed by a range
of fantastic knobs ano wooded hills that roll off to the limit
of vision. Passing up the river, now placid and Avithout a
ripple, two wooded islands seem floating upon its surface.
On the Gaspe side are successive points of lands, once
guarded by French batteries, but now overgrown with trees ;
and opposite is " Athol House," for eighty yeurs the residence
of the Ferguson family, and the most pretentious mansion
in this section. Sixteen miles up is Campbelltown, at the
head of navigation, with the round knob of "Sugar Loaf"
Mountain just in its rear. Opposite, and reached by a ferry,
is the Micmac Mission Station, with its httle chapel and two
hundrecl huts ; and eight miles further the old Metis or
Kempt Eoad, which crosses the Gaspe Mountains to the St.
Lawrence, one hundred miles over. Still passing up stream
the scenery becomes yet more picturesque. The river is filled
with wooded and grassy islands, upon which herds of cattle
feed ; and where the river occasionally runs over a rapid, or
eddies around a point, a salmon may be taken with a fly.
In the foreground the mountains impinge closely upon the
stream, and betAvecn two high knobs the Matapedia rushes
down and joins the Restigouche. Just here, at the junction
of the two rivers, is the aristocratic mansion of Daniel Fraser,
Esq., the lord of a regal realm of a thousand acres, who
always extends a welcome hand and hearth to anglers.
•
\i-
,<.'
•/.
o - ^
BAIE DES CHALEUBS. 155
Here is an unfinished section of the Intercolonial Railway,
over which trains will presently run, and turning a curve
around an angle of a mountain spur, whisk their way uj) the
Metapedia Valley. Here are a store and telegraph station ;
and here the sportsman, upon the eve of his departure for
the inner wilderness, may telegraph an adieu to his friends at
home, and fit out with canoes, guides, and provisions for his
voyage. The railroad follows a mail route up the Metapedia,
over which a Avagon runs at present to St. Flavie, on the St.
y^^ Lawrence, whence coaches run to the present railway ter-
minus at Riviere du Loup, a hundred and forty miles. The
Metapedia is an excellent salmon stream, and heads in the
Metapedia Lakes sixty miles up.
From Fraser's to the Patapedia, a distance of twenty-one f c^*^
miles, the Restigouche runs between two lofty mountain
ranges, which occasionally recede from the shore. A Jew
miles up is the Upsalquitch, famous for its trout and salmon.
At intervals cold brooks tumble into the river, and islands
fill the channel where it widens. There are occasional .
houses for the first ten miles, and a wagon road follows the
left bank. At the mouth of the Patapedia is a splendid sal-
mon pool and fine trout-fishing. Then more precipitous
mountains succeed. There are alternate pools and rapids,
more islands, and more cold brooks dashing down. In some
localities there are delicious white-fish similar to tlie Corrego-
nous albus, which the Indians spear in considerable quantities,
and a species of Jarge lake-trout called "tuladi," which grows
to a weight of fifteen or twenty pounds. Twenty miles above
the Patapedia, and sixty miles from Fraser's, is the Quahtah-
wahtomkedgewick River, called Tom Kedgewick for conven-
ience — a large tributary, sixty miles long, from the head of /j
which is a portage to the sources of the Rimouski, which '-•«'), *~-^^^
empties into the St. Lawrence a few miles below the Trois
Pistoles. Six miles from its mouth is Falls Brook, so named
from a pretty waterfall a quarter of a mile up stream, which
tumbles over splintered ledges of rock into a green pool
•-*^
15G BAIE DE8 CIIALEUES.
which swarms with salmon. Four miles further up the Tom
Kcdgewick is Clearwater Brook, where there is another
splendid salmon pool. This river and its tributaries were
last year set apart by tlic Canadian Government for natural
and artificial lish-brceding. A short distance below, where
the Tom Kedgewick joins the liestigouche, there arc roman-
tic cliffs of naked granite, which descend peii)endicularly
into an inky pool which the Indians say has no bottom; and
they also say that a patriarchal salmon resides in its unknown
depths, "as big as one canoe," which has evaded all attempts
at capture for generations past. Near by is a deserted cabin
that once belonged to a hermit by the name of Cheyne, who
was drowned some years since. At the coniluencc of the
Kcdgewick and the Eestigouche is a level tract of meadow-
land with a house inhabited — the only dwelling between the
portage and the Patapcdia. From hence the route is
through an unbroken forest, and a district no longer mount-
ainous ; but the grade is steep and the cuiTcnt rapid. At
the mouths of many of the brooks four-pound trout can be
caught with anything that looks like bait. Beavers abound.
Beaver " cuttings" and trees that they have felled with their
teeth are seen at frequent intervals. The wilderness is filled
with moose and cariboo, lynx, and yarious kinds of fur-bear-
ing animals. Hither trappers come in winter, and return
in spring laden with galore of pelts.
The portage to the Grand Eivcr is some thirty miles above
the Tom Kedgewick. Into a thicket of densest alders which
disclose no opening, the canoe turns abruptly and passes into
a sluggish creek. This creek is deep and shallow by turns,
scarcely wide enough for the canoe to pass, and as crooked as
a double letter S. Nowhere does it follow a straight course
for a dozen rods together, and it is so overgrown with bushes
that frequent use of the hatchet is required to force a pass-
age. This continues for two miles, and then the canoes are
hauled out, and, with the luggage, carried a mile and a half to
another similar creek of half the length. This leads into the
BAIE DES CIIALEURS. 157
Grand Itivcr, fi crooked l)ut "wide and deeply-flowing stream
— and thence the journey to St. Jolin is all down hill and
easy. The nasty little creeks that make tliis portage so in-
tensely disagreeable are called the Waagan and Waagansis
respectively. Emigrants sometimes travel this route with a
l)irogue, and attaching horses to the craft, pull through with
comi)arativo ease.
The journey down the Grand Kivcr, fourteen miles, is run
in about two hours, and brings us to the Acadian settlement
of Madawaska, on the St. John. A mile above its month it
is crossed by a bridge, over which passes the mail route from
Grand Falls to Riviere du Loup. Just at the bridge is the
house of one Violet, a hospitable Frenchman, Avho has enter-
tained many a sportsman, to say nothing of scores of lum-
bermen and emigrants, who never solicited assistance in
vain. The Eoyal Mail Route, a most excellent road, was the
regular winter route of travel between the Lower Provinces
and Quebec until the completion of the railway between
St. John and Bangor last year. During the late war it was
much used by the Confederates, who passed from Canada to
Halifax, and thence by sea through the blockade into the
seceded States. It runs through the Madawaska settlement
for twenty miles, skirting the St. John River, and then turns
off and follows the valley of the Madawaska River to Temis-
couata Lake. Upon the opposite side of the St. John is the
State of Maine. The entire Madawaska settlement extends
sixty miles, and the population is about 6,000. One-half are
English and the other half Yankees ; yet all are Frenchmen,
and speak no English ! And the little fenced-off farms, of
uniform frontage but running back indefinitely, the hay-
ricks and well-tilled fields, the sleek cattle, the clumsy wains
and rude cabriolets, the houses of squared logs, painted in
Indian red, with doors of gtiudy colors, the quaint little
chapels and the windmills, are all of Normandy. Then the
interior of each house — the large, open, uucarpeted rooms,
158 . BAIE DES CHAt-EURS.
with their polished floors, tho antique, wood-))ottomc(l chairs,
the low settles, the bedsteads set in niches, the loom and the
Bpinning-whcel, the rude little cnicitixes and the pictures of
the Virgin and saints that ornament the walls — do they not
peiiietuate a history purely Acadian ? And the impassive
maitre de maison in his blue homespun blouse and capote,
madamo in kirtle and snowy cap, the lasses with plaited hair
and blue woolen petticoats, and the group of reserved and
passive children — arc they not the reproductions of the pen
that sketched Evangcli^>c r* It is a beautiful web of fancy
and fact that LongfelloAV wove, and truthful in all its colors,
lights, and shades ; but who that pays his addresses to the
charming maiden, can dissipate the pungent odor of garlic
and melted fat that constantly pervades the homely kitchen ?
W'^o will dare confide the custody of his epicurean palate to
a sylph-like creature whose daily diet is black buckwheat
bread and hard-fried . eggs minced with pork scraps? and
who will dare trust himself, with this knowledge, to gaze into
the jet of her lustrous eyes, or taste the peach bloom of her
cheeks, or listen to the iEolian of her musical voice ?
Why should the poets tantalize us thus ?
To continue : At Temiscouata Lake the angler can stop
over at Fournier's, known by all travelers and stage-drivers
for many years, and fish for " tuladi." In the broad waters
of this lake, and in the neighboring chains of lakes, this
remarkable species of the Safmo family, the great gray trout,
may be found. And when he has surfeited himself with
sport, he may resume hi? Journey, and by pleasure of kind
Providence reach his destination at the railway terminus at
Eiviere du Loup. Thence to Point Levi, opposite Quebec,
it is 114 miles through the Catholic country of the, pious
Tiahitans. Here every parish has its chapel, and every
chapel its patron saint. And there are saints enough to
exhaust the calendar. Of twenty-five stations on the rail-
road, seventeen are designated by the names of saints. The
BAIE DES CHALEURS. jgg
people are a pastoral people, identical with those of Mada
wask.,, and presenting intaet and unadultemted their and^
customs, dress, and jK^euliarities. There arc material here
til? " "" ""'• "" '"""™' "-"''■"g ^ «- -nsus
»
THE LOWER ST. LAW^RENCE.
^HEEE is a railroad from Montreal to Quebec; but
one of the splendid steamers of the " Richelieu "
line, the finest in the New Dominion, is the prefera-
ble conveyance — fare, three dollars. Leaving Mon-
treal in the afternoon, we approach Quebec at G
o'clock in the morning, and passing Avithin view of the
bcautifnl Chaudierc Falls, round Cape Diamond under
the frowning citadel, and glide into a berth at the Lower
Town.* Here on the wharf is a jam of vehicles of eveiy
ancient and modem pattern, from the old French caUche
to the pretentious metropolitan hackney-coach. Heteroge-
neous drivers thrust their importunate Avhips into one's face
and confuse the ear by a jargon of bad English, execrable
patois, and rough Milesian. Groups of hahitans and emi-
grants get mixed up with the crowd, and vainly endeavor to
* Quebec has been dismantled ! They say its ramparts are to be
thrown down, and its grim walls obliterated, that no traces of the
ancient fortifications may remain. Only the everlasting cliifs will stand
— the clitfs ^'iiicli omnipotent hands erected, and which none but
omnipotent power can overthrow. Ah, well I Now let us destroy St.
Augustine and the Castle of St. Mark, and then wo shall have wiped
out the only interesting relics of the ancient days which ,^0 of this new
country possess. This is too practical an age to permit these obstacles
to bar the i)rogress of innovation, l^et relic hunters henceforward go
to the Rhine, to Egypt, and the Campagna !
THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE. " 161
pick their way through the strange places. Solicitous priests
ill long black cassocks assist the bewildered sheep. Trucks
trundle furiously up the gangway plank with trunks. Sol-
diers in undress-scarlet elbow through the mass. And
" blarsted '' Englishmen in frieze suits and Scotch caps stand
immovable in everybody's way, and complacently survey the
tumult with their glasses. Leaving our friends to get into
the long omnibus of the St. Louis Hotel, we mount a
cabriolet for novelty's sake, and touching up our scrub of a
pony, rattle off through two or three narrow streets of the
Lower Town. Then we ascend by a circuitous road to the
old " Prescott Gate," with its nail-studded oaken doors and
mediaeval masonry, and passing its dingy portals, drive into
the Upper Town — drive past the "Durham Terrace" and
catch a glimpse of the beautiful champaign country across
the river below : past the Catholic Seminary and the little
public square wdtli its fountain and flowers ; and then along
a range of law-offices, up to the entrance of an immense
modern hotel, six stories high, kept by the Brothers Eussell,
who are Americans, and w^elcome Americans with the cor-
diality of kin and countrymen. Directly opposite is the
house where Montgomery's corpse was laid after his futile
attempt to scale the heights. It is now used for a barber-
shop. Ten rods of is the market-place and the two cathe-
drals, the club-house and the convents. In fifteen minutes
one can see the whole of that part of Quebec included within
the walls, though hackmen will contrive to eke. an hour's
drive out of it at a charge of a pound or so — to strangers.
After you have been in town a fortnight and begin to bo
known, they will put the job at " we'll say five shillings."
If you wish to angle in the vicinity or make a five weeks'
trip down the St. Lawrence, the Messrs. Russell will cheer-
fully put you in the way of obtaining all requisite infor-
mation, and assist in selecting your outfit; for these gentle-
men are thorough sportsmen, and one of them (I crave his
pardon) has the longest two-jointed spliced salmon-rod I ever
11
162 THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE.
saw ! The salmon that ever snaps that rod deserves to be
drawn, split, quartered, sliced, and buttered, and his remains
served up at the St. Louis Hotel to a table of famished sports-
men as a warning to all salmon for generations to come.
"Within a few hours' drive of the city are numerous beau-'
tiful ]akes-»-Lake Beauport, St. Charles, St. Joseph, Lac a
la Truite, Lac Blanc, Lac Vincent, and a dozen others,
which the guide-books say abound in trout. In Lake Beau-
port I once caught three after a couple of hours persistent
fishing ; but then the water was smooth as a mirror, and the
rower a blunderhead boy who frightened all the fish. In other
lakes I hav€ had little better success. Still there are trout
in them, and withal they are very pleasant places of summer
resort, where one may find abundant refreshment for man
and beast, and drink champagne or ale under th(3 shade of
spreading trees.
The salmon river nearest Quebec of any importance is the
Jacques Cartier, once famous for the number of its fish, but
now somewhat depleted. Its waters, however, abound in mag-
nificent trout. A drive of twenty-five miles from toAvn will
carry you beyond the settlements and set you down beside
its banks about forty miles above its mouth. Here we have
a birch-canoe of our own. Taking with us a well-tried voy-
ageur we will complete our outfit and enjoy a few days
cruise up and down the river. In a hamper that holds two
bushels or more, we place our provisions, utensils and camp-
stuff, and, loading the canoe, launch fortn upon the tide.
We smatter some French, and Pierre bad English. There is
an old camp a few miles up stream with excellent trout-fishing
in the vicinity. We propose to pass a couple of nights
there, and then go down the river for salmon.
"Pierre?"
"Messieu." •• .
" Jusqu'on a le camp a haut ? "
" No understand."
" I say, how far — pshaw !— quelle distance a le camp ?"
THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE. 163
" Me tink about four mile mebby."
" Comme longtemps pensez vous, a faire le voyage ?"
" Comment ? "
" No comprenez ? "
"Non, Monsieur."
"Pshaw! these Frenchmen can't speak their own lan-
guage. You see they only speak a sort of jmtois. Let me
see: Combien de temps — that's it — how long — a faire le
voyage ? How mucb time — go up — eh ?"
" Oh, two hour, I suppose."
"Ah well, tlicn we shall have time to stop and catch a few
fish for supper. This looks like a good place. I say, Pierre,
bon place a peclie, ici ? — a prendre poisson ? "
" Oui— poisson — good place — catch fish."
" Then let's hold on — Arret — la ! voila le roche — 1' autre
cote — there — tenez."
Pierre holds the canoe in mid-stream and we cast our flies
in the eddies and around the rocks with gratifying results.
The fish are voracious and bite freely. Soon we have a
dozen. Then the biting begins to slacken, and it is evident
the fish have been all taken, or have become wary.
"Pierre! eh bien! montez — no — go down stream — go —
confound it — comment I'appelez — desce7idez."
" Oui, Monsieur — all right."
" Look out there — prenez garde ! plague take it- -saere —
you've crossed my line. I say, Pierre, clear that line, will
you ? tirez-Vous mon ligne, s'il vous plait — there — boii.
We'll try it here awhile."
The Jacques Cartier is not a very violent stream, though
it is broken by frequent rough water and an occasional
strong rapid ; and sometimes it widens into little bays Avhere
there are good pools. By the time we reach the camp it is
near sunset, and our string of trout has increased to several
dozen. Here there is a winter shanty made of birch bark,
which has been occupied by beaver trappers, we know ; for
there are several frames near by which they used for stretch-
1G4 THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE.
ing their pelts on. It is located on a knoll, jnst at tho edge of
the forest, with an open grassy space in front and a path
leading to the river's edge. In the foreground is a point of
land made by a brook flowing in. As soon as a landing is
effected, Pierre makes a " smudge" to keep off the black
flies, and then goes for wood and hemlock boughs. He
gathers enough wood to last all night, and places the boughs
in rows on the floor of the shanty, covering the buts of the
first row with the soft branches of the second, and the
second row with the third, and so on, in order that the sharp
ends may not hurt us when we lie down. Then he cuts two
logs of dry spruce about eight feet long, and placing them
side by side three feet apart, with skids underneath, so as to
make a draft, fills the space between them with proper fuel,
and lights the fire. Meanwhile crotches have been cut and
set in the ground and the kettle filled with water, which we
now sling upon a pole over the fire. The fish are next
dressed, and with a few slices of pork are laid in the frying-
pa,n ; the tea is emptied into the now boiling water, the bread
and butter and sugar come forth, and when the repast is pre-
pared, we fall to with a will, quite ready to retire to rest as
soon as the dishes are rinsed and wiped. Nothing makes
sleep so refreshing as the fatigues of a sportsman's daily
routine. He goes to bed at dusk and rises Avith the first
break of day. In midsummer tho first portion of the night
is often sweltering hot. By two o'clock in the morning the
air becomes chilled and the dew falls heavily, rendering a
fire not only extremely comfortable, but absolutely necessary.
Now it happens that Pierre, who lies near the fire in the
open air, has slept too soundly and let the fire go out ; and
we inside the hut, having thrown off our blankets in the
early part of the night, wake up at three o'clock benumbed
and shivering. Our limbs are so stiff that we can scarcely
move. All is darkness, within and without. No cheerful
flicker sheds forth its light and warmth. The Frenchman is
snoring vigorously.
THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE. 165
"Halloa there, vou Frenchman! Reveillez yous. Pour-
qiioi pemiittez voiis le feu sortir? Wake up there, and
make a fire ! This is not the thing at all."
"Ah! Sucre mon Dicu! pardon, gentlemen. Le feu il a
mort! I shall make one leetle blaze tout de suite. C'cst
vrai, it ees not de ting.'*
While the Frenchman replenishes the fire, one shivering
comrade shuffles down to the river for water, and the other
succeeds in finding a bottle of brandy and the sugar. With
those ingredients, when the water has come to a boil, a
revivn ing draught is concocted. The aching limbs are
limbered out by the now glowing flames. Pipes are filled
and smoked, half drowsing, while the shadows dance alfresco
upon the forest background. Yet the night is so cold, that
when we withdraw again to the shelter of the camp, we
venture to build a fire inside, Indian fashion ; for the hut is
large. Then, once more we compose ourselves, and sweet
sleep quickly brings oblivion. Doubtless the increasing heat
of the apartment and the warmth-diflusing liquor combine to
make that slumber intensely sound. Certain, it is not until a
crackling noise and stifling sensation arouse us, that we wake
to find the shanty all aflame, and its birch-l^ark cover curl-
ing and shriveling in the heat and smoke ! With a quick-
ness in emergency which experience begets, we seize the
poles of the hut and by main force pull the framework to
pieces, and drag the burning mass asunder, yet not in time
to save the entire contents. Only a portion of our effects
are saved. But, for these and our \hc^ we are grateful.
Such was one little episode of our trip to the Jacques
Cartier.
Hastily dispatching breakfast, we moralized upon the
vicissitudes of forest-life, and regarding with some feelings
of loneliness our now desolate camp-gi*ound, we turned our
backs upon the smouldering ruins and quickly paddled down
the river.
166 THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE.
When we returned to the St. Louis Hotel, after a week's
absence, we carried home the hamper filled with large and
luscious trout.
From Quebec to the Saguenay there are few salmon rivers
worth mentioning. At Murray Bay, 78 miles from Quebec,
and at Cacouna, 110 miles, both of them fashionable summer
resorts for the Canadian elite, a fc^v salmon are caught, and
the trout-fishing is pretty good. Thus far, the southern
shore of the St. Lawrence is lined by the little farms and
cottages of the haiitans ; the northern rhore, after leaving
the vicinity of Quebec, is rocky, desolate, and dotted at in-
tervals by fishing-stations and hamlets. The river is inter-
spersed with islands of various sizes. From the SUguenay
to Belle Isle Strait in the Labrador division, no less than
sixty salmon rivers empty into the St. Lawrence. The dis-
tance is six hundred miles. The whole coast is rock-
bound, in many parts walled by precipitous clifis several
hundred feet high, over which cascades tumble from the
plateaus above. At intervals the hill-ranges recede from
the shore, or wide gaps open into the granite ; and through
these the salmon rivers flow with a volume vast and deep
like the Moisie, or with rapid and dashing current like
the impetuous St. John and Natashquan. There is a little
steamboat belonging to the Molsons, of Montreal, which nins
once a week from Quebec to their iron-works at the mouth
of the Moisie, 364 miles. The iron is manufactured from
black magnetic sand, w^hich is found along shore in vast de-
posits. If one can get passage by favor in this steamer, it is
easy to visit any of the intermediate salmon rivers. The
only means of access to other parts of the Lower St. Law-
rence and the Labrador is by private vessel, or by passage on
some fishing craft, with an uncertain chance of return.
Small vessels or schooners can be chartered at Quebec, with
crews and pilots who are familiar with tii? coast. The
warmest kind of clothing should be taken in abundance, for
though in midsummer the v oonday heat is sometimes in-
THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE. 167
tense, yet the nights are always cold, penetrating fogs en-
velop for days together, and sudden extreme changes of tem-
perature occur.
Herewith is appended a list of all the fair salmon rivers on
the St. Lawrence, below the Saguenay Eiver, with the dis-
tances from Quebec of the principal ones. Those designated
in small capitals are superior for rod-fishing :
SOUTH SHORE OF ST. LAWEENCE.
Rimouski — Sylvain, lessee ; average size of fish, 13 lbs.
Grand Metis.
Matane.
Ste. Anne des Monts — Angled in 1871 for the first time,
with fair success.
Mont Louis.
Madeleine,
Dartmouth — Assi^ied to transient rods. Permits to fish
$1.75, to be obtained from Joseph Eden, overseer.
((IXaiOo-i^ York — Thos. Eeynolds, of Quebec, lessee ; average weight
^ ' ''offish in 1870, 31 lbs. ; in 1871, 21 lbs.
St. John du Sud — Fred. Curtis, of Boston, lessee.
Grand — W. F. Gierke, New York, lessee.
Grand Pahos.
NORTH SHORE OF ST. LAWRENCE.
Tlie Bergeronnes — Two rivers, leased to Browning and
Blood, of Montreal, for use of guests of Tadousac Hotel ; 132
miles from Quebec.
Escoumain.
Portneuf— 14:0 miles from Quebec.
Bersamis.
La Val— Hon. D. Price, of Quebec, lessee ; 180 miles
from Quebec. •
Blanche, ^
Plover, y Indifierent streams.
Columbia, ) .
1G8 THE LOWER ST. LAWRENCE.
Betsiamite.
Outarde.
Manicouagan — Has high falls three miles from its mouth ;
220 miles from Quebec.
Mistas^ini — Falls 120 feet high, nine miles from its
mouth.
GoDBOUT — Gilmore and Law, of Quebec, lessees ; average
weight of fish, 12 lbs.
Trinity — 27G miles from Quebec.
Little Trinity.
Calumet.
St. Margaret — 340 miles from Quebec.
MoisiE — Ogilvie, of Montreal, and Brown and Turner,
of Hamilton, lessees ; average weight of fish, 18 lbs. ; 3G4
miles from Quebec.
Trout River.
Sheldrake.
Magpie.
St. John du Nord — Boundary line between Canada and
Labrador ; average weight of fish, 12 lbs. ; 4o4 miles from
Quebec.
MiNGAN — Leased by a director of Grand Trunk Railway ;
465 miles from Quebec.
Romaine — Mr. Lord, U. S., lessee.
Watsheestioo.
PasTiashehoo.
Ndbesipi.
Agwanus.
Grand Natashquan — Not leased; 202 salmon killed
on four rods in seven days, in 1872 ; 571 miles from Quebec.
Kegashka — Falls near mouth.
MUSQUARRO.
Napitippi, •
Washecootai.
Olomanosheebo.
Coacoaco.
m
tub lower st. lawrence. 169
Etamanu.
• Netagamu.
MECATTIIfA.
Ha Ha.
St. Augustine.
Esquimaux — 720 miles from Quebec.
Leases «are generally executed for nine years. They may
be drawn so as to include the estuaries for netting, or merely
to cover the privilege of rod-fishing. Some of the scores
made by rod-fishermen are very handsome. Last year,
Messrs. Havemeyer, ILirriott, and three friends of New York
City, killed 148 salmon in the St. John {Du Nord), between
the 18th day of June and the 13th July. Four Canadian
officials, comprising the Governor-General and party, killed
203 salmon in seven days in the Grand Natashquan. The
lessees of the Moisie killed 325 fish in two weeks ; average
weight, 18 lbs. In the Godbout, o09 fish were killed between
June 15th and July 15th. As there are two or three in-
different anglers in every party, the "heft" of the score
should be credited as a rule to two rods, when the party
comprises four or five persons.
THE SAGUENAY.
,_g,jROM Quebec to the Saguenay the distance is one
2^^r hundred and thirty miles. Opposite the mouth of
^^/n^ this gloomy river is a sand-bar, and here a vessel
^^g- may ride at anchor in shallow water. But let her
move but a dozen rods up stream, and she will find
no bottom! Soundings show a depth of one hundred
and twenty" fathoms. The line of this mighty submarine
precipice is as distinctly defined where the inky waters
that flow out of the river join the St. Lawrence, as the blue
Gulf Stream is defined in the milky waters of the ocean main.
Yet further up the river, the depth is a thousand feet, and
where Capes Trinity and Eternity drop tlieir stupendous
crags perpendicularly into the Stygian waves, it has been
fiithomed almost a mile without reaching bottom ! And all
this immensity of water rolls out with a volume and tide
Avhose influence should be seriously and disastrously felt.
Yet its effect is not as perceptible as the tides that ebb in the
Bay of Fundy. Where then is the vast receptable of this
overwhelming discharge ? Where the outlet into the ocean ?
It is said, and with palpable verification, that the waters of
Montmorenci Falls find their way into the body of the St.
Lawrence River by a subaqueous and subterranean outlet.
Then, surely, the volume of the Saguenay must discharge
itself through some similar passage into the Gulf. And who
THE SAGUENAY. ITl
shall say that the mysterious eddies and currents that environ
and constantly beset the Island of Anticosti and make its
circumnavigation as dangerous as Scylla and Charibdis, are
not occasioned by this unseen agent ?
Three centuries ago Jac(iues Cartier, the bold investigator,
sent a ])oat's crew to explore tiie penetralia of this mighty
chasm, and they were never heard of afterward. What won-
der tlien that for subsequent decades of years it should have
been invested with a weird and supernatural character?
that tales should have been believed of its unnavigable cur-
rent, immeasurable depths, terrible hurricanes, dangerous
rocks and destructive whirlpools? Even to-day it is not
without some feeling of awe that sailors pass Avithin the iron-
bound naked headlands that guard its savage portals. Mists
continually envelop it and fill its Titanic gorges. Winds,
keen as November blasts, wiiirl through its channel walls, at
times, in midsummer. AVliales and porpoises disport in its
inky waves, and seals innumerable play upon its surface. A
description by a London Times correspondent who accom-
panied the Prince of Wales to this river on the occasion of
his visit to America, is the .most graphic ever printed, and
though often read, will bear insertion here. He writes :
"Gloomy black clouds rested on the mountains, and
seemed to double their height, pouring over the rugged
cliffs in a stream of mist till, lifting suddenly with the lioarse
gusts of wind, they allowed short glimpses into what may
almost be called the terrors of the Saguenay scenery. It is
on such a day, above all others, that the savage wildness and
gloom of this extraordinary river is seen to the greatest ad-
vantage. • Sunlight and clear sky are out of place over its
black waters. Anything which recalls the life and smile of
nature is not in unison with the huge naked cliffs, raw, cold,
and silent as the tombs. An Itahan spring could effect no
change in the deadly, rugged asjiect ; nor does winter add
one iota to its mournful desolation. It is with a sense of
relief that the tourist emerges from its sullen gloom, and looks
173 ' THE SAGUENAY.
back upon it as a kintl of vault — nature's sarcopliaf^us, whcro
life or sound seems never to have entered. Conn)ared to it
the Dead Sea is blooming, and the wildest lavines look cosy
and smiling. It is wild without the least variety, and grand
apparently in spite of itself; while so utter is the solitude, so
dreary and monotonous the frown of its great black walls of
rock, that the tourist is sure to get impatient with its sullen
dead reverse, till he feels almost an antipathy to its very
name. The Saguenay seems to want painting, bloAving up,
or draining — anything, in short, to alter its morose, eternal,
quiet awe. Talk of Lethe or the Styx, they must have been
purling brooks compared with this savage river, and a pic-
nic on the banks of either would be preferable to one on the
Saguenay.
" The wild scenery of the river culminates at a little inlet
on the right bank between Capes Trinity and Eternity.
Than these two dreadful licadlands nothing can be imagined
more grand or impressive. For one brief moment the rugged
character of the river is partly softened, and looking back
into the deep valley between the capes, the land has an
asjject of life and mild luxuriance which, though not rich,
at least seems so in comparison with the grievous awful bar-
renness. Cape Trinity on this side towards the landAvard
opening is pretty thickly clothed with fir and birch mingled
together in a color contrast which is beautiful enough,
especially where the rocks show out among them, with their
little cascades and waterfalls like strips of silver shining in
the sun. But Cape Eternity well becomes its ntime, and is
the reverse of all this. It seems to frown in gloomy indigna-
tion on its brother cape for the weakness'it betrays* in allow-
ing anything like life or verdure to shield its wild, uncouth
deformity of strength. Cape Eternity certainly shows no
sign of relaxing in this respect from its deep savage grand-
eur. It is one tremendous cliif of limestone, more than
1500 feet high, and inclining forward more than two hundred
feet, brow-beating all beneath it, and seeming as if at any
THE SAGUENAY. 173
moment it would fall Jiiid overwhelm the deep black stream
Avhicii Hows so cold, ko deep and motionless down below.
High up, on its rough gray brows, a lew stunted pines show
like bristles their scathed white arms, giving an awtul weird
aspect to the mass, blanched here and there by the tempests
of ages, stained and discolored by little waterfalls in blotchy
and decaying spots. Unlike Niagara, and all other of God'a
great works in nature, one docs not wish for silence or soli-
tude here. Compani()nship becomes doubly necessary in an
awful solitude like this, and though you involuntarily talk
in subdued tones, still talk you must, if only to relievo your
mind of the feeling of loneliness and desolation which seems to
weigh on all who venture up this stern, grim, watery chasm.
"The * Flying Fish' passed under this cape with her
yards almost touching the rock, though with more than a
thousand feet of water under her. In a minute after, one of
the largest G8-pounders was cast loose and trained aft to face
the cliff. From under its overhanging mass the 'Flying.
Fish' was moved with care lest any loose crag should bo
sufficiently disturbed by the concussion to come doAvn bodily
upon her decks. A safe distance thus gained, the gun was
fired! For the space of half a minute or so after the dis-
charge there was a dead silence, and then, as if the report
and concussion were hurled back upon the decks, the echoes
came down crash upon crash. It seemed as if the rocks and
crags had all sprung into life under the tremendous din, and
as if each was firing 68-pounders full upon us, in sharp,
crushing volleys, till at last they grew hoarser and hoarser in
their anger, and retreated bellowing slowly, carrying the talc
of invaded solitude from hill to hill, till all the distant moun-
tains seemed to roar and groan at the intrusion. ,
" A few miles further on is Statue Point, where, at about
1000 feet above the water, a huge, rough, Gothic arch gives
entrance to a cave in which, as yet, the foot of ma^n has never
trodden. Before the entrance to this black aperture a gigantic
rock, like the statue of some dead Titan, once stood. A few
174 THE SAGUEXAY.
years ago, during the winter, it gave way, and the monstrous
figure came crashing down through the ice of the Saguenay,
and left bare to view the entrance to the cavern it had
guarded perhaps for ages. Beyond this again, is the Tableau
Rock, a sheet of dark-colored limestone, some 600 feet high
by 300 wide, as straight and almost as smooth as a miiTor ! "
The steamers " Magnet " and '•' Union " leave Quebec
four times a week, touching at the summer resorts of
Murray Bay and Cacouna, and are timed to ascend and de-
cend the Saguenay by daylight. At the entrance of the
river are the little villages of Tadousac and L'Anse d L'Eau.
The latter is a steamboat landing. Tadousac is most roman-
tically situated among the hills, with ahttletrout brook tum-
bling through a ravine on the outskirts. Recently a large
and fashionable hotel has been erected by some Montreal
gentlemen, and is well filled during the two hottest months
of summer. It stands on the site of the old Hudson's Bay
Company's Station, which occupied here for one hundred and
fifty years. Upon a gently sloping lawn between its piazza
and the bay, the old buildings still stand, with the veritable
flag-staff ana iron four-pounder guns which did duty under
the old regime. Here also is the ancient chapel of Father
Marquette, said to be one of the oldest in Canada, with its
quaint architecture, and its curious paimings, and interior
appointments. Upon the crest of a precipitous alluvial
terrace near at hand are the modern summer r3sidences of
several gentlemen " Canada and the United Staters, of whom
Robert H. Powell, Jsq., of Philadelphia, was the pioneer.
All along shore, near Tadousac, sea-trout arc caught in great
abundance.
Fifteen ^ miles up the Saguenay is the River Ste. Mar-
guerite with its two branches, leased by David Price, of
Quebec, and Mr. Powell. Some distance above, is the Little
Saguenay, and at a distance of twenty-seven miles the St.
John flows into a bay, two miles long by three wide, enclosed
by mountams. At both these rivers are lumber-mills and
THE SAGUE]S"AY. 175
fishing-stations. Other salmon rivers are the Eternity river,
the Descentc dcs Femmes, the Ha Ha, and the A Mars.
The latter is the best-stocked - . • in the Saguenay district.
The fish have multiplied wondCxiiilly within the last three
years. All along the river numerous cascades tumble over
the perpendicular cliffs, flowing from lakes and ponds on their
inaccessible summits. In the vicinity of these rivers, near
the middle of the Saguenay, is St. Louis Island, with pre-
cipitous sides that descend abruptly to the depth of 1200 feet.
Here great quantities of the finest salmon-trout are caught.
Passing up stream the scenery is somewhat diversified by an
occasional island or a sweeping bend in the river. Still there m a
sense of all-pervading gloom, and with the exceptions noted, no
trace of civilization, and scarcely any of vegetation, can be seen.
When the steamer reaches Cape Eternity, it invariably
runs close under the shadow of the tremendous cliff; steam
is shut off and an opportunity is given the passengers to in-
dulge in sensations of awe and outlnirsts of sentiment.
"When all have gazed aloft at the impending crags and suf-
ficiently shuddered, a whistle is blown or a gun fired to wake
the echoes, and the steamer continues her voyage. Once
only in the course of four several trips up the river, have I
known the spell of sublimity to be broken by any sacri-
legious attempt at the ridiculous. All hands were gathered
on the fonvard deck, and breathless. All was still as the
grave. Not even a whisper was heard for the moment, when
commotion was suddenly excited by a voice which said in
accents firm and deliberately uttered, " What a splendid rock
to advertise Plantation Bitters ! "
Sixty mil . bove the mouth of the Saguenay the gloomy
cliffs recede, the river expands into a magnificen: bay, and to
the northwest, thirty miles distant, the blue outlines of the
St. Margaret mountain range are seen. This range com-
mences at Lake St. Johii, and extends through Labrador to
Hudson's Bay. Its highest peaks are estimated to be three
thousand feet above the waters of Lake St. John. Ha Ha
176 THE SAGUEKAY.
Bay is the terminus of the steamboat route. Here two httle
vilhiges, Bagot and Bagotville, each with its chapel-spire,
ckister upon the undulating shores. They are about three
miles apart, and are located each upon a river which fur-
nishes water-power for saw-mills belonging to the Prices, of
Quebec, gentlemen who are said to own no less than thirty-
six lumber establishments upon the Saguenay, St. Lawrence,
and other rivers of Canada. At one of these villages a long
pier juts out, and here the steamer lands her passengers for
a two-hours' frolic on shore. Around the bend of the bay
there is a very fair drive of three miles between the two vil-
lages, and it is considered " quite the correct thing " to char-
ter one of the many French caleches which cluster on the
pier, and scurry off at a rattling pace. Occasionally parties of
ladies and gentlemen stop by the wayside to taste the native
red wine at a primitive Acadian inn, where, as advertised
in black and gamboge letters, they sell " Uqiieurs en detail."
It is quite interesting to notice how gracefully they patronize
the modest maitre dliotel, and how they smirk, and titter,
and blush at the seeming little breach of propriety, just as
"quality folks" used to do when they first ventured into Ful-
ton Market for bivalves such as they could get noAvhere else.
And these unsophisticated Acadians are not so simple as not
to know on "which side their bread is buttered." Four
steamers a week during two months oi summer, crowded
with passengers whose purses are plethoric with money, and
v/hose business is pleasure, afford an opportunity not to be
innocently thrown aside. Hence, all the young men of the
village not employed in offices equally remunerative, borrow
money enough to pay for a five-pound horse and wagon, and
become extemporized cab-drivers. Arid that improvised
Jehu who cannot clear the price of his outfit, with a margin
sufficient to pay for his annual church dues, his mamage
fees to the priest, and the pension of himself and " femme "
till next season, is no business-man at all.
The hyperborean hack-drivers of lla Ila Bay do not im-
THE SAGUENAY. 177
portune fares ; intelligible words are wanting to express their
inducements and demands. But, blocking up the pier with
a jam of mute appeals as practically effective as a Broadway
blockade, they have no difficulty in securing a load. Then
the Frenchman finds ready use for his native politeness,
which he exercises in holding the horse while the ladies
tumble over the thills and dashboard into the vehicle. They
haven't an instant to contemplate the novelty of the situa-
tion, or calculate the strength of the caleche or the chances
of the road ; nay, not even to give a little preliminary shriek
of apprehension ; for, quick as a monkey, the driver has
sprung to his seat on the edge of the dashboard, and is off
like a shot, with the pony's tail in his lap! He hasn't time
even to gather up the reins or set his feet squarely upon the
whiflfle-tree bar — "which the same" is important. You have
seen an old-fashioned country chaise go over a " thank-you-
ma'am"? A " thank-you-ma'am " is a little ridge made
across the road to turn off the rain-fall. Well, the springs
of the caleche are stiff, and the uniformity of the Ha Ha
road is interrupted by occasional stones, ridges, and little
gullies. At the first start the caleche strikes a stone ; in a
jiffy the right wheel dips into a rut ; then the left jumps a
hummock ; then both together surge into a puddle. Never-
theless the speed increases, the jolts multiply, and the mud
flies. The driver is used to it, and raises himself at each jerk
on his wire-spring legs hke a circus-rider. But imagine the
effect behind ! At the very start the ladies are jerked out of
their seats like skipjacks ; the next instant they are all in a
heap on the bottom, and helpless. Faster goes the nag ! Dex-
ter could hardly beat such time. It is useless for the ladies
to shriek — the driver wouldn't believe there was anything
serious the matter until he saw them spilled out and man-
gled. He only turns and laughs simply. It is rather an en-
couraging smile he wears, as if he thought they were merely
having a little fun of their own, and he actually mistakes
their hysterics for downright jollity I On they go, passing all
12
178 THE SAGUENAY.
the caltiches on the road, the ladies hanging on hke grim death
to the seat, the dashboard, tlie driver, and each other, their
hats jammed over their eyes, their frills and furbelows gener-
ally shaken up and crushed, and their pompadours and h'llr-
pins scattered along the road. In vain do they plead :
" Oh driver ! please — do — stop — oh — oh — help— stop— mer-
cy — stop — oh — I — shall — die — my — hair — my — oh ! "
The last " oh " is stifled by a leap over a gully. Appre-
ciating the dilemma at a glance, we hurry on after, and hail,
with many a gesture :
" Hold on there, you stupid idiot ! stop, I say ! whaf are
you about — don't you see the ladies are killed ? stop ! arret-
That omnipotent French word did the business ; the nin-
compoop hadn't understood a word beibre. ''Arret-la"
means stop — and he did — like the snap of a trap ! In a jiffy
the ladies were over the dashboard ! When they had recov-
ered and found themselves on terra firma at last, they shook
out their ruffled plumage and exchanged their vehicle for
ours, Avhicli had a slower horse and a less reckless driver.
We were just in the spirit of humoring that Frenchman —
we had ridden hundreds of miles in caleclies. We deter-
mined to take the starch out of his animal, and we did ! we
got our money's worth ! Away we went through the quaint
little settlement like a streak of greased lightning, I on the
back seat, the Frenchman on the dashboard, sitting sideways ;
and at each jolt we shot upwards Hke a jack-in-the-box, first
the Frenchman, then the passenger, raising ourselves clear
of the seat by the spring of the legs. It was equal to Dan
Eice's circus. Then the Frenchman laughed, and the horse
perspired and reeked ; and on we sped with a swiftness that
made the passing objects scurry by like phantasmagoria —
party-colored houses — curious clay ovens standing in the
open air by themselves, and little bridges that crossed the
brooks—" une maison, imfour, im petit pont — une maison, un
four, un yetit pontp and so forth successively, with a skip, a
THE SAGUENAY. 179
jerk, and a jump, until at last we rattled down upon the pier
amid the plaudits of admiring cabbies congregated there. We
paid that man a Yankee silver half-dollar ; it was all he asked,
but not half Avhat he earned. Tlic next summer, when we
happened at Ha Ha Bay again, that Frenchman knew us —
you bet ! Ha ! ha !
Although the steamboat excursion ends here, the angler's
journey has only begun. His field of adventure is at the
Chicoutimi Falls, thirty miles or more above, and his game
the splendid Avininnish, as the Indians call them — a fish
very nearly allied to the land-locked salmon, though I notice
slight points of difference between the two. The dorsal fin
of the wininnish is longer, and at those seasons of the year
when he visits the rapids, he carries it erect and projecting
above the surface like a shark's. The spots on the Avininnish
are irregular quadrilaterals, while those of the land-locked
salmon are rounder ; and he kcks that golden lustre which
glows from the scales of the latter, when fresh from his
element. In general color and appearance he more nearly
resembles the grilse. In the early part of the season his
scales are of the most lustrous silvery-white, and his back a
glowing steel-color ; but, as the season advances, his hue be-
comes dark and cloudy. He is not the same handsome fish
then, by any means. Both of these varieties have a tail quite
forked ; seventeen rays in the first dorsal fin ; the generic
adipose second dorsad; the characteristic lateral line of
the salmon ; the same number of spots on the gill-covers, and
the same pinkish-yellow color of the flesh. I do not remem-
ber the vomers, or the number of rays in the caudal-fin.
The wininnish seems more active than cither the land-locked
salmon or grilse, often making three s" jssive leaps with
great rapidity, and without appearing lu ^ouch the water ex-
cept Avith his tail. I have never seen grilse do this, and
their reputation for activity is such that the Indians always
speak of them as "jumpers."
In the Avinter tliey are scattered through the deep Avatcr
#
180 * • T IE SAGUENAY.
of Lake St. John, and in June they descend to the series of
rapids below, to spawn. This is the season par excellence,
and these the places for capturing this remarkable game-fish.
With an Abbey-fly, or yellow May-fly with black wings and
head, the sport can be prolonged until the passion cloys, and
both basket and satiety cry " Hold, enough ! " The French-
men in the vicinity " chum " them with bait cut up and
thrown where they most frequent; then catch them with
pork or common bait of any kind.
Six miles above Ha Ha Bay is the little viflagc of Chicou-
timi, where there are saw-mills belonging to the Hon. Dave
Price, a little chapel, and a couple of small taverns where
one may tarry a la Canuck, A little steam-tug rans up to
the mills betimes, and tows ships to load with lumber. Se-
curing passage by favor, we arrive at Chicoutimi village, and
obtaining canoes, ascend the river nine miles to the foot of
the first or lower rapids, and then cross. These rapids ex-
tend three miles; then there are three miles of smooth
water ; then a second rapids of terrific strength ; then ten
miles of still water ; then two miles of rapids ; then three-
quarters of a mile of still water. Finally, there succeed the
mighty rasli and uproar of the ^'- Grand Discharge " min-
gling with the foam and tumult of the " Petit Discharge."
These empty the waters of the Great St. John Lake, and
sweeping around a rugged island with terrific and unnatural
force, unite, and rage, contend, and finally melt and settle
down into the quiet mood of the still water below. At the
head of the third rapids, and within sight of the " Grand
Discharge," we shall pitch our camp. But first let us call at
Savard's, six miles above the first rapids. There are an old
man and his three sons, Louis, Pierre, and Gustave, all excel-
lent boatmen and assistants in camp. We can see the house
now, perched on a hill of curious geological structure. In-
deed, from the moment we reach the lower rapids, we are con-
scious of entering a region of extraordinary geological marvels.
We tread among the wrecks and debris of a previous creation.
THE SAGUENAY. 181
All the way to.Savard's, the road runs on the verge of a vol-
canic ridge, with curious sand-bluffs of undulating outline
thrown up at intervals ; and the scenery becomes constantly
more rugged, and the contour of the land more broken with
dry ravines tilled with sand formations, and with others con-
stituting the channel-ways of impetuous rivers. No less
than twelve large streams empty into this upper Sagucnay,
between Ha Ha Bay and Lake St. John. All these bear
rich tribute of lumber to the booms and mills below. And
at Lake St. John liegins the Ste. Marguerite mountain
range, which extends through liabrador to Hudson's Bay.
Throughout its whole extent it bears evidence of haviifg
been once subjected to fearful convulsions, violent heat, and
volcanic action. According to the assertion of intelligent
Hudson's Bay Company's officers, the interior country is one
vast bed of granite, syenite, and schist, upheaved in succes-
sive billows of rock, as though the entire mass had been
poured over the earth in a deluge of liquefaction, and sud-
denly cooled before the great waves had subsided. And
there are extinct volcanoes which the Indians say were
active once ; and hollow mountains that reverberate with a
cavernous sound under merely a heavy footfall. Vegetation
in most parts is very scant, and chiefly composed of stunted
spruce.
All through the country great bodies of water are situated
upon elevated plateaus, some like Lake St. John, full forty
miles long. From these, cascades tumble over lofty preci-
pices into deep chasms. In some places mountains have
been uplifted ; in others they have sunk into subterranean
depths. Great seams and rifts yawn where rocks have been
cleft asunder. Detached masses and fragments of rock have
been burst by explosions and hurled at random over land
and sea. With these data it is easy to account for the
phenomena of the Saguenay. There is no doubt that its
immeasurable channel was cleft into rock that was once a
solid mass: for each projecting promontory is offset by its
182 THE SAOUENAY.
corresponding indentation. And is it not prgbable that the
same volcanic agency whicli rci't this chasm, spht otf Anti-
costi and Newfoundland from the main continent, uplieaved
the interior mountains, changed the beds of rivers, and sent
detached masses of rock flying into the sea, scattering them
in a belt nine miles wide along the coast of Labrador ? "i'lie
Abbe Clavigero informs us that in Canada, in the year 1GG3,
an earthquake began on the oth of February, and continued
at inten-als for the space of six months, causing the most
dreadful agitation in the earth, the rivers, and the coasts of
the ocean over the extent of nine hundred miles from east
to west, and four hundred and fifty from south to north, and
actually overwhelmed a chain of freestone mountains more
than three hundred miles long, changing this immense ~
tract into a plain. The River iSt. Lawrence underwent re-
markable changes with respect to its banks and some parts
of its course, so that new islands were formed, and others
were considerably changed. Have we not in this record the
date of the epoch which has so singularly illustrated the
geological history of the Saguenay from its mouth to Lake
St. John ?
Only half the curiosities of this mighty river have been
seen when the tourist has reached Ila Ila Bay. And to the
angler and explorer nothing can be more delightful or easy
than this trip, which includes no hardships or wearisome
journey by stage or wagon, but carries them at once into a
region teeming with fish, and brimful of freaks of nature.
From the little camp at the head of the third rapids of
Chicoutimi there is a stretch of still water for three-quarters
of a mile, with a circumvallation of rocks and pines. Sitting
here in the cool of the long summer evenings, one crn see
the rough waters of the " Grand Discharge " glistening like
a snowbank in the evening sunlight, and listen to their
sullen roar, which is more deafening than the rush of the
Niagara speeding to its mighty leap.
Louis — allons a coucher !
ANTICOSTI.
Q^
LL along the coast of Labrador the ocean sets into
the land by numerous estuaries, creeks, and inlets,
■which intersecting, form a chain of islands of every
conceivable size and shape. Most of them are
merely ban-en rocks that hug the main land.
Others are isolated hummocks away out in the ocean where
the surf never ceases to thunder, covered at .all times with
uncouth wild-fowl and screaming gulls, while the air above
is filled with myriads constantly hovering. On some islands
there is a thin deposit of earth and moss into which the
puffins and parokeets burrow, while others are relieved by
a scanty growth of juniper bushes, among which the eider-
ducks biild their nests, hning them with silky down whose
market value is five dollars per pound. In the breeding
season all these islands are literally paved with eggs — eggs
of coots, puffins, razor-billed auks, bottle-nosed ducks, shell-
drakes, shags, sea-ducks, gannets, liagden, murre, sea-pigeons,
gulls, tinkers, et id omne genus. At the Smithsonian In-
stitute they have a record of 1G9 varieties of land and sea
birds known to inhabit Labrador and its coast. The air
above and around the islands is filled with myriads constantly
hovering, and the whiiT of their rapid circling flight is like
the noise of a factory. To and from their feeding-grounds
in the far-off sea, foraging parties are constantly winging
184 ANTICOSTI.
their way ; keen-eyed sentries patrol their topmost crags,
and scouting parties and videttes ever on tlie alert wheel
and hover when vessels approach. On every tier and ledge
of the shelving rocks thousands sit demurely, each on its
individual egg, setting. When the month of June arrives,
" eggers " from Quebec and Halifax go out to these islands
in sloops and shallops, and effecting a landing in the calmest
days, proceed to break all the eggs they tind, and waiting
over night for new deposits from the parent birds, secure a
cargo of those fresh-laid. There is a heavy legal penidty
attaching to this practice, for it is destructive of millions of
embryo birds. Nevertheless, " eggers " pursue it " on the
sly," and their precious cargoes are eagerly purchased when-
ever brought to port. And the birds do not seem to diminish
in the aggregate, though they frequently disappear from long-
established breeding-grounds after repeated inroads.
Many of these islands are barp, perpendicular cliffs, inac-
cessible even by boats, except in unusual weather, on account
of the ocean swell which prevents a landing. A year or two
ago, three eggers, who had succeeded in landing, found
themselves rock-bound by the rising winds, and for two
months they remained on those desolate rocks with no other
shelter than the rifts and chasms, and no other food than
the birds and their eggs, or water than the rain which col-
lected in the hollows ! Every effort was made to get them
off, even by Government vessels, employing every imaginable
appliance and contrivance, but in vain. At last they were
rescued, nearly dead with famine and exposure, just as the
chilling winds of September began to blow.
The Island of Anticosti, long known and much dreaded
by mariners, has remained uninhabited until this day, by
reason of its inaccessible coast, its lack of any harbor accom-
modation whatever for vessels of large size, and the danger-
ous currents that beset it on every hand. Its north-eastern
coast is a wall of white cliffs four hundred feet high, which
glisten like snow in the sun, whenever the sun shines, for
...^'
ANXICOSTI. 18^
sometimes fogs anil clouds prevail throughout the mouths of
August aud Scpteuiber to that degree tliat the fishermen
cannot proi)erly dry their fish ! On the south and south-
west the shore is much broken ; there are two or three har-
Ijors large enoiigii for shallops, and (Uic is kuown as Shallop
Harbor. Several small salmon rivers empty into the sea, of
which tlie principal are the Daui)hine and Jupiter rivers.
These have been resorted to for several years by net fisher-
men, and have yielded from fifteen to thirty barrels of salmon
each, the catch varying with tlie season. Only recently an
occasional angler, lured princii)ally by a fondness for explor-
ing out-of-the-way places, has ventured to test the waters
with a fly. That fly-fishing is good, and that there are suffi-
cient other attractions to the sportsman to induce him to
tarry long, is proved by the fact that a British naval officer
on furlough passed five weeks there last summer, landing
uj)on the island about the middle of July.
Hunters and trappers have resorted to Anticosti for many
years, and been content to pass the long and tedious Avinters
there, rewarded for hardships endured by a plentiful return
of furs ; for the island fairly swarms with bears and fur-bear-
ing animals, which are protected from the inclement. weather
by the dense growth of evergreens with which the island is
covered.
Codfish appear very early on the banks of Anticosti, and
many fishermen resort there in the spring to secure a fare
before the fish "strike in" at places which they visit later in
the season. As many as one hundred boats have been en-
gaged at once. The most frequented spots are South-west
Point, Ellis Bay, Belle Bay, English Bay, and McDonald's
Cove. There are light-houses at Southwest Point, South
Point, West Point, and Heath Point, with wreckiug stations
and apparatus ; and there are provision depots for wrecked
mariners at Heath Point, South Point, Ellis Bay, and Shal-
lop Creek. There is a steam fog-whistle at South Point,
which sounds once a minute in foul weather. It can bo
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IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)
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J.86 ANTICOSTL
heard fifteen miles in a dead calm; with the wind fair,
twenty miles ; and in stormy weather from three to eight
miles. At West Point station a cannon is fired every hour
during fogs and snow-storms. All these humane provisions
have been established since 1831.
If Anticosti had good harbors, where schooners could find
a safe shelter during stormy weather, there is no doubt that it
would be visited eveiy spring by a large flee't, the fish always
being abundant in May; but its shores are fraught with
* dangers, especially at this season of the year, and fishermen
prefer to keep away from them. ^ ,
; Not only is Anticosti rich in its natural fisheries of salmon,
cod, and herring, in its furs, and in its forests, but it has val-
uable mineral products of economic importance, such as
marble, limestone for building and other purposes, grind-
stones, peat bogs, salt springs, and extensive agricultural
capabilities. Nevertheless it remained without an inhabitant
until the year 1828, at which time the steamer " Granicus,"
from Liverpool for Quebec, was lost, and those of its passen-
gers who escaped to the land all perished from cold and star-
vation. After the discovery of this melancholy disaster in the
spring succeeding this wreck — which took place in Novem-
ber, just at the close of navigation — the British Government
induced a family to take up an abode there by the payment
of a liberal pension. Then, in 1831, followed the construc-
tion of the first light-house, and afterwards the several im-
provements that have since been made. From time to time
fishermen have built permanent cabins and settled, induced
by the remunerative fisheries, so that there is now a consid-
erable hamlet on the southwesterly end.
It was in the early spring of 1829, somewhere about the
end of April, that a few seal fishermen from Quebec ventured
to brave the rigors of the season and run down to Anticosti
for the spring fishing. Picking their way, one still morning,
among the debris of rocks that underlaid the cliflfs of the
north side, they chanced to spy a rope depending from tlie
•>•/'
ANTICOSTL 187
projecting verge overhead. This was a sight to make the
superstitious quake with fear. It was well known that the
island had no inhabitants at that season«of the year — that no
human beings but themselves were there. And the rope in
that strange situation too! It was man'elous indeed! At
length one ventured to pull the rope, to ascertain whether it
was fast above, or whether it had merely caught in the rocks
while falling. Mystery ! it tolled a bell. Shuddering, the
hardy sealers stood aghast, regarding each other with faces
pallid and eyes that betrayed their fear. Then they looked
upward toward the crag. All was still — nothing yisiul*?
but the dark brown rock, the snow, and desolation. Then
with trembling hands they pulled the rope again. Sharply
the peal of the bell rang out upon the frosty air ! Again —
and then again ! There was mystery up above. And as the
notes prolonged, and reverberated from point to point, it
seemed as though they had summoned creatures into being
and waked the surrounding wastes to populous civilization.
Convinced that no other agency but their own produced the
tones, — for it was only when they pulled that the bell tolled,
— the sealers picked their way around the coast until they
found a place to ascend to the plate.u above. Over the
rocks from which the snow had meltfi, and through thickets
of spruce and pine, they followed the windings of the cliff until
they reached the point desired. Then amazement filled
their senses. A camp deserted — tents half buried in the
drifts, charred and blackened brands from which no welcome
smoke ascended ! And the tents were made of old sails, light
spars, and cordage. On the edge of the cliff swung a ship's
bell. One of the tents was more carefully constructed than
the others, and seemed to have been barricaded around its
base by logs and pieces of timber. Pushing the canvas aside
from the entrance, a horrid sight was revealed. In the cen-
ter of the apartment was a kind of pit in which lay a
shriveled human trunk, minus the head, legs, and arms, with
the ashes of a fire underneath I This apartment had evi-
188 Al^TICOSTI.
dently been occupied by women, for there was a lady's travel-
ing trunk inside and some remnants of female apparel.
There were tibundant traces here of a fearful wreck and hor-
rible suffering. The victims had certainly been reduced to
the necessity of eating human flesh, and one at least had died ;
but where were the rest ? There were no clues to be found
anywhere — no diary, no memorandum — nothing but a simple
tally-stick, upon which had been scored the days of the
month of February. This was something. One person had
at least survived until March, provided all were dead now.
The sealers commenced a search. At last they discovered
in Fox Bay the wreck of the steamer " Granicus^ She
had evidently been cut in two by the ice and run ashore.
Here was the key of the whole horrible problem. The
"Granicus" had been reported missing since the 1st of
November, at which time she was due. It was about that
time, then, that the wreck occurred. Her crew and passengers
were all originally saved, and constructed the camp now
standing. For four long months — November, December,
January, February— had they endured the rigors of a Cana-
dian winter upon that desolate, uninhabited island. No use
to look for rehef at that time of the year. Landward, sea-
ward, nothing but ice-floes and pack-ice drifting.
Without guns, or else ammunition exhausted, there were
no means of obtaining provisions, even though game was
abundant. And so, one by one, the ill-fated castaways per-
ished miserablv ; and when the survivors had become too
weak or indifferent to guard their bodies, they were dragged
off into the woods by wild beasts and devoured. Poor pick-
ings they must have had from these shriveled and emaciated
corpses! And the lady (it was afterwards ascertained from
the ship's passenger list that there was but one lady aboard),
was carefully protected to the last — barricaded in her tent
against the attacks of famished wild animals that scented the
unnatural food. And when the last of the unfortunates, save
one, had eked out their miserable existence upon the lean
ANTICOSTI. 180
flesh of their comrades — the only food at hand — the lady iu
her turn yielded up her life to the man who notched the
weary days upon his tally-stick, lie must have been a
butcher by trade so artistically, did he dismember the body !
Morsel by morsel, piece by piece, limb by limb, sparingly,
the ghoul drew upon his larder. And then the trunk alone
remained. Too weak to cut it up he dragged it bodily
upon the coals ; and then the fire got low — the fuel was
exhausted. Feebly, with one final efibrt, he dragged himself
outside the tent to gather more, and the wild-beasts in wait-
ing carried him unresisting to their lairs in the woods — and
there thr frightful record ended ! No wonder the British
Government hastened to pro\ide against the recurrence of
another such tragedy, by placing upon the island means of
rescue.
Anticosti noAV is stripped of half its terrors, though the
unseen dangers of its mysterious currents remain. Friendly
beacons show far out at sea, and there are havens of rest for
the storm-tossed and stranded. It is now proposed to colo-
nize the island and thereby develop its valuable resources.
The "Anticosti Company," a number of leading capi-
talists of Canada, have purchased it from the proprietors, and
this year they will set about their task. It is 120 miles in
length by 30 wide, in the broadest part, and contains an area
of two milUons and ft quarter of acres. The only means of
visiting it is by chartering a boat or shallop, or securing pas-
sage at Quebec upon some of the fishing vessels which go
down in May. Sometimes there is an opportunity by the
Government vessels in the hght-house service, which make
periodical visits to the several stations along the coast.
However, there is more generally a disposition to keep a safe
distance from the island than to seek it.
LABRADOR AND NE^A/^
FOUNDLAND.*
Y notes of a " Summer Cruise to Labrador " were
first printed in the New York Journal of Com-
f^jr- r:. merce, and subsequently took shape in the ex-
C^J)^v^ tended article in Kai-per's Magazine, to which
^— ^ reference is here made. Though now twelve
years published, it remains the most comprehensive sketch
of Labrador extant, little having ever been written of that
portion of its sterile land which lies to the northward of the
Belle Isle Strait.
As far back as the fifteenth century, Labrador was fre-
quented by Spaniards and Frenchmen who had large fishing-
establishments on the coast, some of wliich still remain and
retain the names given them by their former occupants.
Of others only vestiges of ancient buildings and fortifications
are traced. At the Moisie, St. John, and Natashquan
Rivers, and at Mutton Bay, Bradore, and Blanc Sablon,
there are considerable villages where a large amount of re-
munerative business is transacted in summer-time. Large
quantities of codfish and salmon are prepared for export.
Holliday's establishment alone, at the mouth of the St.
John, puts up some 20,000 pounds of salmon in cans an-
* See Harper's Magazine, vol. xxii, pages 577, 743.
LABRADOR AND NEWFOUNDLAND. 191
nually. All along the north shore, from Belle Isle to lati-
tude 57°, are fishing-stations busy with men and women
during the fishing season, who come from Canada, New-
foundland, and the United States. At hundreds of rocky
islets are fish-stages for dressing fish ; and " flakes " of poles
or brush strew every level rock, covered with codfish drying
in the sun.
All along the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence
and through Belle Isle Strait to Cape Charles, the coast is
for the most part walled with precipitous cliffs over which
cascades tumble at intenals, and through whose occasional
gaps rivers flow into the sea. But from Cape Charles north-
ward, the highlands recede, and a belt of islands varying in
width from nine to eleven miles, girts the coast. The pas-
sages between these islands are denominated " tickles," and
during the fishing season swarm with vessels at anchor, or
passing through ; for, be it known, the outside passage is by
no means safe or easy. Even in most propitious weather,
gales and sea-fogs arise without warning, and, at all times,
vessels must run under the lee of the land at night for an-
chorage and shelter. Until the month of August, icebergs
come drifting down, rendering navigation extremely danger-
ous. Currents, created by the undertow of these vast moving
bodies which float two-thirds under water, always set toward
the bergs. Often the bergs, worn by the waves, and melted
by the increasing temperature as they move southward, be-
come top-heavy and " turn fluke," or they burst asunder, and
strew the surface of the ocean with acres upon acres of their
fragments.
Although several of the rivers of Northern Labrador
afford good rod-fishing, yet a trip to this inhospitable region
can hardly be recommended, unless, indeed, the angler bo
enthusiastic enough to volunteer for a Polar Expedition.
Still, a voyage in a steam-yacht has more than once been
made by parties of gentlemen Avith satisfactory reward of
novelty and strange experiences; and the cruise has even
193 LABRADOR AND NEWFOUNDLAND.
been accomplished in sailing vessels with enjoyable results.
There is much pleasure in noting the brilliant colors and
fantastic shapes of icebergs; in watching the gambols of
whales and grampuses; in visiting the isolated bird rocks,
which swarm with wild fowl innumerable, and are strewn
with their eggs in countless numbers. In this latitude is the
home of the seal and sea-lion, and the trysting-place of
eider-ducks, whose down brings fancy prices in the markets
of the world. And as one goes northward, the Aurora Bo-
realis scintillates and blazes in its full hyperborean splendor; -
sundogs and parhelia light up the sky with rainbow tints ;
the days are long, and twilight lingers nearly into midnight.
But the coast is bleak and desolate, enlivened by no vegeta-
tion, save mosses and scanty grass. Two days out of three
are cold and foggy, and unless one's spirit of adventure leads
him to make frequent excursions into the main-land, his ex-
perience becomes in time a tiresome monotony.
Upon the main-land there is in places a considerable growth
of spruce, and though the cod-fishermen seldom visit here,
the tourist may see occasionally the seal-skin " toupiks " of
Esquimaux families who have come from their winter quar-
ters in the interior down to the coast to catch their year's
supply of fish, ^li^re is good bird-shooting always, both of
land and sea fowl.
At Henley Harbor, near the eastern entrance of Belle
Isle Strait, the curlews swarm in August, and there is a r\
stream that affords good trout-fishing. At Snug Harbor are
large trout. In the four rivers that empty into Sandwich ^
Bay, lat. 54°, there is excellent salmon-fishing ; also at By-
ron's Bay, two degrees farther north. But the ultima thule
of the angler's aspirations is in the waters of the great Es-
quimaux Bay or Invucktoke Inlet, lat. 55°, which penetrates
one hundred and twenty miles into the interior. Fifteen
miles above its mouth is Flatwater River. Here, about the
middle of the flood-tide, one may take his stand upon a long
sand-bar, then uncovered, and catch sea-trout by the score,
LABBADOE AND NEWFOUNDLAND. 193
with little risk of losing his fish when hooked. The game
is active, but there are no obstructions of rocks or brush, and
the angler has merely to take a run of the sand-bar, and
follow his fish until a victory brings reward. Sixty miles up
is Rigolet, a Hudson's Bay Company's post, where salmon-
fishing may be enjoyed in the " Narrows," through which
the tide ebbs and flows with turbulent velocity. The
scenery along this bay is romantic, the shores quite densely
wooded with spruce, with two or three peaks of high eleva-
tion to diversify the landscape. But the musquitoes are
ravenous and swarm in clouds. Labrador musquitoes are
larger and more savage than those of Florida, and most in-
dustriously do they improve the short shining hours of their
summer probation.
At the Narrows the hills on either side tower to the
height of eight hundred feet, and continue for a mile. They
then trend to the southwest and merge into the mountain
range which divides the waters of the Atlantic coast from
those that flow into Hudson's Bay. Above the Narrows the
Esquimaux Bay widens into a lake thirty miles long by eight
in width. Into this lake flow the Northwest, Tomliscom
and Hamilton Rivers. The latter is at the head of the lake,
and is its principal inlet. The Indians say it has falls 1200
feet high! At Northwest River is another Hudson's Bay
trading-post, and here is the finest salmon-fishing in this re-
gion. Following this river over a series of rapids, portages,
and falls, is a trail that leads to another post on Ungava
Bay, which is an indentation of the great Hudson's Bay.
Certainly, the Labrador comes within the scope of the
angler's research ; but its range is so immense, and its field
so far beyond the reach of ordinary ambition, that any refer-
ence to its waters might reasonably be omitted in this work
except that some mention is requisite to make my Angler's
Guide complete.
Of the fluvial geography of Newfoundland comparatively
little is known. It was only as recently as 1825 that the
13
194 LABRADOR AND NEWFOUNDLAND.
first roads were made from St. Johns, tlie capital, to the
neighboring settlements ! and yet the island was the earliest
discovered land in America. Biom, an Icelandic sea- limg,
sailed into its Harbor Grace in year 1001 ; and John Cabot,
the Venetian explorer, discovered Bonavjsta in 1497. And
within seven years from the latter date until now, it has
been noted for its fisheries of cod and salmon, and fre-
quented by vessels innumerable of many nations — French,
Portuguese, Spaniards, English, and Americans. Its rivers
have always been fished without restriction, and without re-
gard to the consequences of w lolesale slaughter, even to the
" bari'ing" of the streams in the spawning season. Obstruc-
tions were so placed as to prevent the ascent of the salmon,
and they were speared and netted with wanton waste.
Nevertheless so much of the country is even to this day
unexplored, and the resources seem so inexhaustible, that
unsurpassed fishing is afibrded in many rivers. These, how-
ever, are scarcely accessible except to the most persistent
angler. From St. Johns, to which there is fortnightly com-
munication by steamer from Halifax, the only means of ac-
cess is by coastwise vessels. Of the several rivers the chief
are as follows :
The Eiver of Exploits, on the east side of the island, con-
nects the Bay of that name with Red Indian Lake. This
stream is seventy miles long, with long still reaches, beautiful
cascades, and one great waterfall eighty feet high. Its cur-
rent is very rapid. The shores are level, with rank grass
growing down to the water's edge, afibrding the most unhmited
play for fly-fishing. These shores recede to various distances,
from five hundred yards to several miles, to the foot of hills
wooded with tall and stately pines «md spruces. It is navi-
gable for canoes ninety miles from its mouth.
The Gander River, ten miles to the southward, flows into
Gander Bay. , •
Still further south, are rivers that flow into Catalina Bay.
LABRADOR AND NEWFOUNDLAND. 195
On tlio extreme south, the rivers that empty iuto Placen-
tia and Little Bays.
Fortune Bay, on the south, receives several good fishing
rivers that head in inland lakes.
St. George's Bay, on the southwest, receives several rivers
that flow from interior lakes.
Into the Bay of Islands, on the west, three rivers empty.
One of them, the Humber, has been explored for one hun-
dred and fourteen miles. It runs northwest, and heads in a
large lake. It is asserted by those who have tested it, that
its salmon will not rise to a fly ; but there are enormous
trout (not sea-trout, Salmo trutta), weighing often tweUc
pounds, which take the fly greedily, and can be caught in
great numbers.
Castor's Eiver flows into St. John's Bay on the northwest,
and is a capital salmon stream.
The interior of Newfoundland is diversified with lakes,
a few mountains, marshes, and plains filled with rocks and
temied " barrens." These afibrd good ptarmigan and cari-
boo shooting. There are two varieties of the cariboo. The
ptarmigan is the rufied-grouse of the States, but in New-
foundland and Labrador changes its plumage with the re-
curring seasons, being nearly a pure white in winter and a
reddish-brown in summer, with gradations for spring and
autumn.
The angling season of Labrador is restricted to about
seven weeks, beginning July 1st and. ending August 20th.
In Newfoundland it is a little longer. Pilots for the coast
can be obtained at St. John, Harbor Grace, or any »here
along shore, for that matter.
THE OTTAWA DISTRICT.
'HE Ottawa Eiver divides the Province of. Quebec
from tlie Province of Ontario. The Ottawa dis-
_ trict properly includes all the lakes and rivers tri-
^V^ butury to the Ottawa River, though it is generally
unlerstood to embrace only the two immense
counties of Pontiac and Ottawa, in the Province of Quebec.
This district is easily reached by railway from Ogdensburg,
and from Brockville, on the Great Western Railway, to Ann-
prior, on the Ottawa River. It is one of the most abundant
game and fish countries in America. By reason of its accessi-
bility, it has long been exposed to the ravages of wanton and
indiscriminate pot-hunters. Only as recently as a year ago,
a Dominion officer reported that no less than four hundred
moose and one hundred deer had been slaughtered for their
hides in the single district of C oal o g Bc, and their carcasses
left a prey for wolves. . Until 1870 its waters had been most
wastefully and persistently fished in the interests of dealers
who contracted for the fish to be delivered to them for sale
in the United States markets, where they bring large prices
with a constant demand. Of late, howeter, the Dominion
Government requires parties going to fish as a business, to
take out licenses, which insures much protection to the
fisheries; for those holding licenses naturally look with a
jealous eye upon those who have none, and either prevent
them from fishing illegally, or report the delinquents to the
THE OTTAWA DISTRICT.
197
overseer. Many of the lakes can be reached only when the
snow sots in, so as to make the woods passable. The Gati-
neau Lakes, in Ottawa county, teem with fine trout, some
of a very largo size, and with whitefish {Corregontis alhus),
some of which weigh as high as thirteen pounds. So plenti-
ful are they that it is asserted that 2,000 lbs. weight could
be supplied for market weekly. Pemachonga, one of the
chain of lakes, contains speckled and gray trout {tuladi),
maskinonge, and pike. In Thirty-one Mile Lake, black bass
abound near the small islands. At Whitefish Lake, two years
ago, whitefish were so plentiful that for miles along the shore
the water seemed alive with them. In the townships of
Wakefield, Portland, and others, in the neighborhood of the
city of Ottawa, the streams have been set apart for natural
propagation and well protected. They literally teem with
speckled trout, and being easy of access, are a source of great
enjoyment to anglers. Last winter not less than three tons
of trout were brought to the Ottawa market, and about half
a ton of pick( jcl. ■ ^ ■ '■. . ' , ' ' • ' ;
Anglers who propose to visit this utter wilderness, will
be able to get information and guides at Ottawa. Those
who go must expect to rough it. There is no other alter-
native. • . . ■. • .
SUPERIOR.
e
pi
OW many vacation tourists liavo feasted tlieir won-
dering eyes upon the strange phenomena and mar-
.^^^ velous seenery of Lake Superior! Thinly settled
•^L^ as its sliores and adjacent waters are, most persons
•^ are familiar with their varied points of interest.
Who has not heard, at least, of the " Pictured Rocks " and
shifting sands of its Michigan shore ; of the beetling cliffs,
rifted and seamed and honeycombed with caves which
the waves have; worn, that girt its northern coast from Gros
Cap to St. Louis River; of the boulders and debris of shat-
tered rocks piled up and strewn all along their bases ; of the
terrific gales and sudden gusts that vex and liarrow its
surface even in its most placid summer moods ? Here half-
civilized Indians swarm in crowds, making its fastnesses their
home. In its cold deep waters the great namaijcush or
Mackinaw salmon loves to dwell ; and in all bays where the
bottom is rocky and the water no more than one hundred
feet deep, he can be caught readily with the hook. All the
rivers on the north shore, from Point aux Pines to Pigeon
River, teem Avith trout to that degree that their numbers
become a nuisance to the angler. The Avhole coast is but
one grand trout preseiwe ! And there are fish of grosser and
plebeiar^ stock — the maskinonge, pike, and sturgeon, and
otho. J of less degree. A bold biter is that namaycush
SUPERIOR. 199
{Salmo amethystns), aiul u dead weight on the line that holds
him hy the lip. lie resigns himself to his fate as soon as
caught, and makes no fight for life ; the only retiistance he
offers is the vis inertim of his seventy-five pound hiiliv. An
ignohle slander upon the noble name of salmon, he is as
phlegmatic as a heery Dutchman, suffering himself to be
reeled in slowly until he is safe alongside of the canoe. Then
the gaff is used, and when his great carcass is hoisted over
the side, he gives a convulsive ga.?p or two, and splutters out
his last " ach Gott" on the bottom.
Besides tliese fish there are the cisco and whitefish, the last
especially of delicious flavor ; but neither are game for the
angler.
The author of "Superior Fishing" has written so volu-
minously of this remarkable region and its finny inhabi-
tants, that in indicating some choice selection of its angling
waters, I can do little more than gracefully refer my readers
to his book. I recapitulate briefly that Garden River, near
Sault Ste. Marie, is a fine trout stream, but difficult to
ascend. The Yellow Dog, Dead, and Salmon Trout Rivers,
sixty miles west of Marquette, afford good fishing. Briile
River and Lake, and all the rivers and waters in the vicinity
of Bayfield and Apostle Islands, will delight the angler. The
Harmony, Agawa, and Batchawaung on the north shore,
with some two or three other rivers that empty into Batcha-
waung Bay — a day's sail from the 8ault, are not only noted
for the size and number of their trout, but for the romantic
beauty of their sceneiy. However, they are liable to become
heated in midsummer, and then the fish retreat to the colder
waters of the great lake. ^ •
Yet there is one river and district which has never been
described in books. It so greatly excels all others of the
Superior region, and all known fronting waters of America,
that those who read thereof may well wonder and reflect
I refer to the Ncepigon and the head-waters of the great
St. Lawrence chain of lakes. If perchance some credulous
300 SUPERIOB.
anglers shall be allured by inducements herein given to un-
dertake the trip thereto, let them provide a good outfit of
warm clothing, and plenty of oil of tar (one part tar and
four of sweet oil) to keep off the flies, take their trouting-
tackle, and go to Collingwood, via the Northern Railroad
from Toronto. There take the steamer through Georgian
Bay to the Sault Ste. Marie, steaming meanwhile for one
whole day among innumerable islands, great and small, and
touching at many little points upon the route, all chock-full
of novelty and interest unabating. At the Sault, if pre-
viously arranged as I shall hereafter direct, guides and canoes
for the anticipated excursion may be put on board. Thence,
passing through the magnificent canal by its two great locks, •
catching frequent glimpses of the rushing tide which dis-
charges from Lake Superior, we enter ther broad expanse of
that great lake and continue our voyage to " Red Rock "
landing, on'the great Neepigon Bay. Before we reach this,
our place of destination, we shall touch at the Michipicoton
River, on the east side of the lake, where there is excellent
trout-fishing, though its heavy portages are much of a draw-
back to the angler. But as we have a promise of something
better than this, we journey on, casting one lingering look
behind. Arriving at Red Rock, we find a comfortable frame-
house and store, which belonged to the Hudson's Bay Com-
pany, in the palmy days of its reign, located on a grassy pla-
teau, with a bright red-sandstone bluff in the foreground,
and a range of wooded hills behind. Here we are received
with an old-fashioned Scotch welcome by Robert Crawford,
Esq., recently the agent, and his "gude wife," who spreads
before us an entertainment that might propitiate the gods —
I mean such heathen gods as depend upon their appetite and
diet to shape the ends of their divinity. Here may be ob-
tained everything needful for a protracted voyage, such as
tents, canoes, guides, clothing, shoes, blankets, and provisions,
in great variety — everything but fishing-tackle ; this, of
course, the angler will pro\ide for himself. Parties intend-
SUPERIOR. 201
ing to visit tlie-Neepigon should write Mr. Crawford suffi-
ciently in advance of their arrival to secure canoes and
Indians ; as it may be necessary to send to the Sault for
them, where a number are always to be had. Or a letter
may be addressed to J. G. H. Carlton, Esq., Lock-master,
Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, who will arrange to have guides
and canoes ready at any time to go aboard the steamboat
with the excursion party.
Having enjoyed a night of refreshing slumber at Craw-
ford's, we are ready in the morning for a start up stream.
Our outfit is completed, the canoe laden with all essentials,
and we only await the arrival of Pooray, our Indian guide,
from his wigwam up the river. With commendable punctu-
ality he presently puts in an appearance, bringing with him
a specimen-trout from the regions above, which causes our
eyes to dilate and our nerves to thrill with pleasurable anti-
cipation. In size it resembles a good-sized shad ; but its
native characteristics are perfect, with every mark and line
and color of the genuine Salmo fontinalis gleaming in royal
splendor. It weighs 4.|- pounds, but we are quietly informed
that " this is a common size here ! "
The river Neepigon is a noble stream, with water cold and
clear as crystal, flowing with a volume six hundred feet wide
into a magnificent bay of great extent. This bay is sur-
rounded by long, undulating ranges of hills, rugged preci-
pices, huge bluffs, and lofty mountains, more or less wooded
with evergreens interspersed with deciduous trees, and filled
with islands of all sizes and every variety of outline. It is at
once one of the safest and most beautiful harbors on Lake
Superior. The first rapids occur about one-quarter of a milo
above the station, and are a mile in length. They can be
surmounted by canoes, but we prefer an easier method ; our
loaded canoe is placed on an ox-cart and portaged over.
With a crack of the whip the team gets under way, and, bid-
ding adieu to the hospitable station, we trundle off, with our
traps, guns, rods, and provisions well stowed, and a little
202 SUPERIOR.
cocker spaniel mounted on the top of the load — a dog that
earned his weight in currency during our absence by pu ang
up rabbits, partridges, etc., which added delicious variety to
the larder.
At the head of the rapids the river expands into a sheet of
water six miles long by one mile wide, called Lake Helen,
which is surrounded by scenery so enchanting that we are
already in love with Neepigoi), and feel amply repaid for
sacrifices or hardships undergone thus far. Twelve miles
above the first rapids is a portage three miles in length, the
longest on the river, and known as "Long Portage."
Thence, to the head of the river, which is forty-five miles dis-
tant from its mouth, there are alternate rapids and stretches
of still water which frequently widen into lakes. There are
fifteen rapids in all, and at each there is the best of trout-
fishing. Some of ther lakes are tAvo or three miles in lengthy
and are known as Duck Lake, Pike Lake, Lake v^^ the Five
Islands, Lake Emma, etc. The shoaler ones abound in large
pike. Occasionally brooks flow into the river over ledges of
rock. One of the portages traverses a beautiful pine grove ;
another cuts off a bend of the river which is studded with
islands. Three miles below the head of the river are the
Virgin Falls, twenty-five feet high. Altogether tlie scenery
is the most diversified imaginable, and constantly presents
changes of the most enchanting character. This is not one
of those "wildernesses that " howl." Though civilization
dwells not hero, and though the forest is primeval, this
water-course has been a thoroughfare for trappers and voya-
geurs for sixty years. At considerable intervals, all along,
are grassy spots where the hardy sons of toil have made their
frequent camps. There are no windfalls to surmount, and
no inextricable and intricate masses of undergrowth to cut
through with axe and knife. From the falls the river widens
gradually, enclosing within its area dozens of small islands
variegated with evergreens, birch, poplar, larch, tamarack,
etc., and then expands into a vast inland sea whoso shores
I
• SUPERIOR. 203
gradually recede beyond the limit of vision. In the far-
distant horizon sky and water meet, and the waves roll up
on shore with a volume and dash as turbulent in storms as
those of Erie or Superior. Its bays are numerous and vast.
Some of them are very deep, and extend inland for twenty
miles, teeming with trout, lake- trout, pike, and pickerel.
Into it flow large rivers, that have their sources in the
Heights of Land which constitute the watershed that divides!
the waters of the St. Lawrence chain from those of Hudson's
Bay and the Arctic zone.
This is Neepigon Lake, seldom even indicated on maps,
and scarcely known except to the Indians and the officers
and servants of the Hudson's Bay Company, who have long
used this route as a highAvay to their more northern posts.
The heights of land alluded to are twenty miles beyond its
northern boundary. And there are other routes from Lake <
Superior to ultimate regions. One through Pigeon River,
Sturgeon Lake, and Kainy River into the Lake of the Woods
(which is only ninety miles from the Red River or Selkirk
Settlement), and thence to Hudson's Bay, has served to locate
the boundary between the L^nitcd States and British posses-
sions. Another through Brule River leads to the rivers that
empty into the Pacific Ocean. This was the thoroughfare
that connected the Hudson's Bay Company's outposts of the
Rocky Mountains and Pacific with the grand entrepot at
Montreal. The route noAv being surveyed for the Canadian
Pacific Railroad follows this long-established highway for the
greater part of the distance. The surveyors find no easier
grades. By-and-by this iron railroad will transport to Canada
the wealth that flows from the gold mines of Fraser River,
the coal fields of Vancouver, the inexhaustible fisheries of
British Columbia, and the fertile plains of the Saskatchewan,
the Red River, and the Assiniboine — Avaters which, commu-
nicating by means of portages, lead all the way to the imme-
diate neighborhood of Lake Superior.
204 SUPERIOR.
If we are to believe the assertions of those whose veracity
is unquestionable, this Neepigon Lake is as large as Ontario,
with a greater water area. It is the hrst of the series of six great
lakes which comprise the St. Lawrence chain. What a marvel-
ous inland water-course is this, extending continuously through
Neepigon Lake and River, through Lake Superior, the Sault
Ste. Marie, Lake Huron, the Detroit River, Erie, the Niagara
River, Ontario, and the River St. Lawrence — nearly 4000
miles in all ! And if to this be added the route just traced
above, we have a water-course that spans the continent, bro-
ken only by a few portages comparatively short.
And now with a concluding word as to the size and num-
ber of the trout in Neepigon, we leave this region to the ex-
ploration and research of future anglers and investigators.
At the first rapids and within sight of the steamboat
^ landing, one may tarry and fish to repletion of desire and
basket, without going further. Passengers, while waiting
for the departure of the steamer, have caught within an hour
or so from oif the dock, trout ranging from 1^ to 5 lbs. each.
Of one hundred and fifty fish which we have caught, the
average, by actual test, was a little uliove 2^ lbs. The score
runs thus, on exceptional occasions : 5 fish, 18| lbs. ; 5 fish,
20 lbs. ; 5 fish, 23 lbs. ; 6 fish, 22^ lbs. And this is about as
they run in the river. There are some small fish, but they
are very scarce. Up in the Lalre they have been caught
weighing as heavy as 12 lbs. In short, one may hook and
land on stout gear as many trout as h. ; has flies on his line.
I have known four to be landed at once weighing in the
aggregate nearly 14 lbs. Of course, the true CFsence of sport
is in using a single fly, so that the angler may have the full
benefit of his captive's vigorous play. For activity and
endurance the Neepigon trout have no superiors. Small
salmon-flies are the best for use — ^gaudy flies for the -lake, and
red or brown hackles for the river ; and the tackle should be
somewhat stronger than that employed in ordinary rivers.
SUPERIOR.
205
Imitation minnows, or even a spoon, are killing bait, but
these u true sportsman will scorn to use.
Black flies, mosquitoes, and sand-flies are more numerous
and venomous here than in New Brunswick, and fairly rival
the Labrador yarieties. The best season for fishing is
throughout the months of Jrly and August.
THE MICHIGAN PENINSULA.
[N many of the rivers of Mieliigan lying north of Bay
City, but in none south of it, is found the Grayhng
^•P^^ {Thymallus tricolor), di, superb game-fish, not hith-
erto recognized as a native of this country. It has
now, however, been fully identified by experts, by com-
parison of specimens obtained in winter, with the famous
Grayling of England. Every minute spot, lateral line, scale,
and fin-ray that exists in tlie foreign variety is reproduced
in those caught here. It varies in size from eight to four-
teen inches, and much resembles the Scisco. Its back is of
a dark-grey color, and its sides are covered with fine whitish
silvery scales running in well-defined lateral lines, and dot-
ted with shining diminutive black spots a half-inch or so
apart, especially about the shoulders. It has a very large
square first dorsal fin with eighteen rays, which divide into
two branches one-third their length from the top. Its sec-
ond dorsal is adipose, its caudal fin as much forked as that
of a grilse, and with twenty-one rays. It has no teeth upon
either jaws or tongue ; but a minutely serrated edge upon
the jaws might be taken for teeth. Its mouth, when open,
is nearly square. It has a peculiar odor, not unpleasant for
a "fish-like smell," hence thymallus. A grayhng two years
old has the black spots, but not the well-defined distinctive
lateral lines of the adult fish. At three years old it weighs
THE MICHIGAN PENINSULA. 207
a half pound, and adds one quarter of a pound per annum
to its weight until it attains a "weight of three or four
pounds. In England it spawns in April and May, and the
angling season commences about the middle of July and
continues through October. In this country it is in sea-
son from May to October. It begins to spawn in February,
and continues throughout the months of March and April.
It thrives best in rivers flowing with gentle current, whose
beds are composed in part or wholly of sandy gravel or loam.
It feeds on minnows, but takes the fly or artificial grasshop-
per with avidity.
Although abundant in many parts of England, its hahitat
is local, just as it is in Michigan. It is caught in only four
rivers of Wales, and in Scotland only in the Clyde, where it
was introduced twelve years ago. In Michigan it is caught in
the Muskigon River, wliich is as far south as they are caught
in any stream that empties into Lake Michigan ; in the
Manistee and all the streams to the northward as far up as
Mackinaw ; in Indian River, a stream connecting two lakes
and emptying into Traverse Bay ; in the An Sable and the An
Ores rivers, on the eastern shore of the State ; and in the
River Hersey, a tributary of the Muskigon. The latter is the
most accessible of any of the streams — eleven hours from
Detroit by the Flint and Marquette Railroad, with a good
hotel a quarter of a mile from the dej)ot, kept by A. D.
Wood, who is himself a thorough sportsman and well-posted.
One mile from the hotel, fishing begins and extends along
a mile and a half of cleared bank, which gives a genuine
sportsman a fair cast. The country affords i;io worms;
therefore the mere bait-fisher will have a poor show. It is a
beautiful stream of clear spring water, about twenty rods
wide. There are no other fish in it but suckers. The best
time for angling is as soon as the spring freshets subside,
from the middle to the last of May. The Au Sable is the
next most accessible stream, and is reached from Bay City
by the Mackinaw Railroad, which runs due north to the
208 THE MICmOAN PENINSULA.
Strait. This road passes within eight miles of the east end
of Houghton Lake and strikes the sources of many streams
which abound in trout. The country is virgin and " dese-
crated " only by prospecters and lumbermen who have a few
camps within the wilderness.
The grayling is not quite equal in activity and pluck to
the trout ; nevertheless, he is a superb game-fish and a great
acquisition to the angler's somewhat limited category. It is
quite as shy as the trout, fully as critical in his selection of
flies, and " contrai7" about taking hold at times, although
the fish may be rising all around the vicinity. The average
weight in the llersey is about half a pound.
As to the trout streams of Michigan, all those running
north into Traverse Bay and all around the shore to Presque
Isle on Lake Huron, contain the beauties ; but they are
found in but few of the peninsula streams, if any, that empty
into Lake Huron to the south of Thunder Bay, or in Lake
Michigan south of Grand Haven Bay.
Note. — As a letter from Prof. Agassiz has appeared in tl)e New
York Times, acknowledging the receipt of specimens of this grayling
for the Museum at Cambridge, I am disposed to give a brief history
of its discovery, the credit of which properly belongs to D. H. Fitz-
hugh, Jr., of Bay City, to whose attention it was brought some three
years ago. Mr. Fitzhugh is an ardent sportsman, and student of
natural history. Recognizing at once the value of the discovery, and
anxious to establish its identity, he immediately sent specimens to Dr.
Thaddeus Norris, of Philadelphia, and Andrew Gierke, of New York,
for examination. The former pronounced it the " English Grayling,"
about the existence of which in this country, he and the Hon. Bob
Roosevelt had quite a discussion. Mr. Clerke's specimen never reached
him ; but, last year, some more specimens were sent to him, and sub-
mitted to a coterie of experts, which included Dr. Gierke, Genio C.
Scott, Jos. Hart, Messrs. Abbey, Hyde, and others. The fish were so
decomposed, however, that the investigation proved quite unsatisfac-
tory.
Here the question rested until last January, no conclusion having
been arrived at in the meantime. About the middle of the month, the
author of this book, feeling the importance of making it wholly reli-
THE MICHIGAN PENINSULA. 209
able as a sporting authority, determined to settle the question finally
and beyond cavil. Accordingly, he wrote to Mr. Fitzhugh, and suc-
ceeded in procuring five specimens. These were speared by Indians
through the ice in Uersey Creek, some hundred miles distant from
Bay City. They were received at the rooms of the " Blooming Grove
Park Association," and were duly submitted to several English gentle-
men, who were familiar with the fish in the old country. They were
brought also to the notice of such exiwrts as Gierke, Abbey, McMartin,
and others, who united in the. opinion that they were the true Gray-
ling. Afterwards they were exhibited on a platter at the restaurant
and dining-room of which Mr. J. Sutherland is proprietor. Two were
then selected, a male and female, which Mr. S. kindly packed in ice,
and forwarded to Prof. Agassiz.
The satisfaction of those who had so long labored to solve the prob-
lem may bo conceived, when the following letter was shown them,
corroborating their opinions, and defining the status of the fish among
the family of Graylings :
Museum op Comparative Zooloqt, I
Caxbbidqe, Mass., Feb. 1, 1873. '
My Dear Sir : I wns greatly rejoiced, yesterday, to receive the two fishes you
were kind enough to send me. They are mort interesting, and a great acquisition
to our museum. Thus far, this species has only been seen by one American natur-
alist, Prof. Cope, of Philadelphia, who described it under the name of Thymallus
tricolor {ThymaUus tricolor.) It is a species of Grayling. Before Prof. Cope's
discovery, this genus of tlsh was only known on the American continent from the
Arctic regions, about Mackenzie River, wht re it had been discovered by Sir Jodn
Franklin. You may judge by this how valuable a contribution your fish Is to our
collection.
Yours, very truly, L. AGASSIZ.
J. Sutherland, Esq., No. 64 Liberty Street, New-York.
This letter Avas very naturally addressed to the gentleman who for-
warded the fish, though the Professor greatly erred in attributing the
credit of the discovery where it did not in the remotest degree belong.
Other specimens of the same fish have been forwarded to Professor
Baird, of the Smithsonian Institute at Washington, and to the Acad-
emy of Natural Sciences at Philadelphia.
U
THE '^BIG ^VOODS."
JIIE "Big Woods" comprise a belt of Pino forest
thirty miles wide, wliich extends for three hundred
miles from Lake Superior through Wisconsin into
Iowa. Considerable portions of this immense pinery
are owned by the Pox Kiver Improvement and Black
River Log Companies, and a wealth of lumber has already
been taken from it. Nevertheless, there are sections whero
the axe of the pioneer has never entered, and where the
Imnter alone intrudes upon the haunts of the bear, the wolf,
and the deer. Its principal water-courses are the St. Croix,
Chippewa, and Black Rivers, with their almost countless
tributaries, which ramify in every direction and penetrate
where even surveyors have seldom trod. All of these flow
into the Mississippi River, and are remarkable for the purity
and coldness of their water and the abundance of brook-
trout which they contain. In these ujiper streams these
speckled "beauties alone dwell, uncontaminated by contact
with less aristocratic species of fish, and lamentably ignorant
of the wiles and devices of the angler. As a rule they are
not of surprising size, seldom exceeding two pounds in
weight ; but in some streams they run uniformly at about
one-half a pound, which is a pleasant weight for a light
rod and finest tackle. Of the tributaries of the St. Croix,
the Apple River, Eau Claire^ Tortogalie andNamekagon are
THE "mo WOODS." 211
the best. Tlio first named is easily accessible from the vil-
lage of New llichmoiid, which is on a branch of the West
Wisconsin llailroad that diverges from Hudson on the St.
Croix Kiver. The Black River bus many nameless tribu-
taries, all stocked Avith trout, which are reached by wagon
from Black River Falls, on the West Wisconsin Railroad. Of
the tributaries of the Chippewa I have fished very many,
starting from Prescott on the Mississippi, taking a wagon
road across an intervening prairie to the " Big Woods," and
then following the logging roads that traverse the wilderness
in all directions. Many others are more easily reached from
Menominee on the West Wisconsin Railroad. At present
this is the only railroad that crosses any part of this region.
The Eau Galle, Menominee, and Vermillion Rivers, afford
rare sport. The scenery of the former is very grand in some
parts. The river winds through deep gorges, whose precipi-
tous sides are one hundred feet high. On their tops tower a
forest of pines, whose roots are far above the tops of other
pines that grow from the crevices in the cliff beneath. Here
and there a blasted trunk, riven by lightning or thrown down
by the tempest, hangs by its shattered fibres, and threatens
to drop momentarily into the chasm below. Other splendid
trout streams are the Kinnikinnik, Willow Creek, Big River,
and Rush River, all situated in Pierce and St. Croix counties,
and emptying into the Mississippi in the vicinity of Lake
Pepin.
Our camp on the Eau Galle is about sixty miles east of the
Mississippi, and our route hither runs for the first twenty-five
miles through a fertile undulating tract, dotted with thrifty
farms. Then it crosses some twenty miles of rolling prairie
brilliant with flowers of countless hues, dotted here and
there with little groves or perchance a single tree standing
alone in its solitude, threaded with sparkling streamlets
whose courses, however distant, are defined by the willows
and elders that fringe their borders, and diversified by an
occasional log-cabin surrounded by numerous bams and hay-
n2
THE " ma WOODS."
stacks. Then we leave the open countrj' and the outposts of
civilization, and strike into the forest, thick, tangled, dark,
and 8oml)rc. In the course of our jcjurney we have passed
numerous jagged clilf mounds, wliich constitute an inter-
esting feature of this section. One might imagine that
Wisconsin was most abundantly fortified, and that a redoubt
was perched on every hill, so striking is tlic resemljlance that
most of these l)ear to Avorks of art and military defences.
These cliffs are composed of a stratum of limestone under-
laid Avith stratified sand-rock of the purest whiteness, and
crop out from the hillside Avith singular regularity, a littlo
below the top and generally on the southern or eastern side.
The strata, crossed by transverse seams, give the whole tho
resemblance of walls of hewn stone, Avhilo the mound itself,
being destitute of trees and apparently smooth as a terrace,
renders the illusion still more complete. The most singular
of these is " Monument Rock," a huge pillar fifty feet high,
which stands alone in the i)rairie, the earth around it having
been Avashed away.
As may be imagined, tho "Big Woods" is the paradise of
hunters. Here and there through the forest; the old " coons"
have their shanties, and large are the packs of pelts Avhicli they
often carry out to the settlements at the close of the Avintei*'s
Imnt. Even now one of the craft is seen to emerge stealth-
ily from concealing brush, with a saddle of venison slung
on his shoulders, and approach the canii). He says -his
shanty is miles aAvay, and begs to tarry for the night. With
permission granted, he heaves his burden upon the grass, and
squats comfortably beside the fire, seeking the thickest of the
smoke that rolls from a zone of " smudges" Avhich have been
made to keep off the diabolical flies and ever-to-])e-intense]y-
anathametized musquitoes. We are just upon the eve of a
repast. All around us our stores, provisions, utensils, etc.,
lie scattered, and convenient for use; Avet clothes and musty
boots hang on sticks to dry ; camp-stuff is strewn promis-
cuously about. Upon the coals, old Tick, a veteran, is frying
THE "BIO WOODS." 2i;j
vciiison, trout and hum ; Jim is i)lucking the feathers from
a partridge ; Sam, with wettest side turned toward tlie fire, is
recounting his day's experience ; the dog sits on his haunches,
whining his impatience ; while the hunter-guest is hy this
time stretclied full length upon the ground, puffing huge
clouds of tohacco-smoke that vie Avith the "smudges" for
density. From one corner of his half-closed eyelids li^
silently, yet quizzically, regards the plucking process. Once
or twice ho moves nervously, as though about to rise ; but it
is not until lie has seen the last pin-feather singed from the
bare body of the bird, that his modesty permits him to ex-
press his feelings.
" Look yere now — what's the sort of use o' spilin' good vit-
tles that-away ? Can't you see the bird aint no account after
it's b(;en burnt to a cinder in the fire ? Go yonder to the
creek and bring mc a peck of clay from . the bank, and I'll
show yer how to cook a bird."
While Jim obeys orders, though not without some sensa-
tions of injured dignity and incredulity combined, the old
hunter takes another partridge and whips off the legs and
wings at the second joii^ts. Then he raises the body -feathers
with his fingers, and having inlaid them with an abundance
of salt and pepper, gently strokes them back again. When
the clay is brought, he kneads it with water to the consis-
tency of stiff paste, and then plasters it all over the bird
thickly until it resembles a huge dumpling. Four others he
treats in the same manner. These preliminaries concluded,
lie selects the hottest bed of coals, and raking out a hollow,
puts the dumplings in and covers them carefully.
" There, I reckon that'll take the shine off country cook-
in'. Now, sling your vittles smartly, for I'm right near the
sta mg point, I'll just allow. When we've put away this
deer meat and pork fixins, you'll find them air birds wont
turn your stomicks much. You kin jist reckon on that."
Not much persuasion does it require to bring the company
to their diet. For although the food is not over clean, or
214 THE "BIG WOODS."
nicely cooked, hunger is a sauce that Soyer or Blot could
never invent a substitute for. When the edge of their appe-
tite is taken off, the coals are lifted. The dumplings, now
hardened to {he semblance of stones, are carefully broken
open, when lo I the birds appear divested of every particle of
skin and feather, smoking hot, with their delicate white
flesh fairly reeking with the rich juices which had been con-
fined by their unbroken skins while encased in their clay
matrices; but which trickle out as soon as the shells are
broken. The investigation of the cooking did not belie the
old hunter's assurances of its excellence. Never were more
delicious morsels eaten. Epicures would have gone wild
over such a new discovery in the cuisine. The bonne houches
were pronounced incomparable. The stomach and intestines
were shriveled to a hard ball, and were as easily removed as
the kernel of a nut. So far from impairing the flavor of the
meat, it was adjudged that their retention imparted an ad-
ditional relish to it. When all had finished their birds and
thrown the bones to the dog, they expressed themselves
satisfied, and each wiped his well-used knife upon his sleeve,
and returned it to its case. Then pipe devotions followed.
I suppose there is no gratification more exquisite to smokers
than a good smoke after a full meal, all the conditions of
weather, bodily comfort, and temperament being favorable.
But especially is it grateful in the stillness of a forest-camp,
with the fire blazing brightly and throwing its warmth and
ruddy light full into one's face, the stars twinkling in the
blue canopy above, and sleep resting drowsily upon the
senses. It begets that positive repose which nature demands
for relaxed muscles and tried nerves. One can endure the
attacks of mosquitoes and flies complacently then, for he
realizes that in gratifying himself he is embarrassing the
movements of the enemy.
Ah ! this pest, this inevitable pest of the sportsman and
detractor from his happiness! We hear all about the poetry
of trout-fishing, but very little of its stem actualities. We
THE "BIG WOODS." 215
read of pleasant pools, refresliing shade, and tumbling foam,
but who has courage to tell us all the truth of these blood-
thirsty little fiends, the flies and mosquitoes? Who has
ever dared to paint the picture in its true colors ? Is it that
men are ashamed to make the confession, or because they
fear some future retribution from the malignant foes they
can neither avoid nor kill ? Or do they expect to purchase
lasting immunity by silence? Certain it is, these insects
sadly mar the charms of angling. Here we actually breathe
them. They rise in clouds at every step. They haunt us
perpetually. It is impossible to live without protection for
the body. Horses will stand in the smoke for relief. They
will stand to their necks in sloughs. AVe cover our faces
Avith finest gauze; we protect our hands with buckskin
gloves; we tie our trousers tightly, and thrust them into
our cowhide boots. In vain! In the excitement of our
pastime we may be unconscious for the time being of suffer-
ing or infliction, but presently the pain and irritation come,
the irremediable heat and the swelling, the useless scratch-
ing and the trickling of blood from tender spots. The
hands puff" up like bladders ; eyes close ; neck and ears swell
to deformity. We find the pests inside our boots, all round
our wrists, and even in our smarting eyes. All day \oi\g the
black flies torture and torment, and when night comes the
mosquitoes are doubly savage. All through the long and
feverish evening, and through the small hours of night, our
tired bodies seek for rest and sweet repose; and our un-
ceasing lullaby is the droning and everlasting hum of the
remorseless myriads — swarms that dim and becloud the light
of the stars which would otherwise shine pleasantly in our
eyes, as recumbent and meditating we gaze upward into the
blue canopy above us. There is only one preventive of
tribulation. As I have already repeatedly enjoined — take
plenty of ^ar and oil. It will be efficacious, I guarantee.
The routine of camp-life, its incidents and vexations, form
so large a part of the angler's experience that it is impos-
216 THE "BIG WOODS." -
sible to eliminate them, and write of angling pure and sim-
ple. I might go on and enumerate each individual brook
and rivulet that I have fished in these " Big Woods," and
photograph its minutest features: tell where this still water
tumbles into a ravine, or where that rapid deepens and
widens into a pool. I might even presume to offer an opin-
ion as to the kinds of flies that different streams and varying
seasons require to insure a plenitude of rich success. But all
these minutia) would only tend to confuse the reader. I
have told him where some of the best streams arc ; and now
I prefer that he would imagine himself in camp with me on
the limpid Eau Galle, along whose channel-bed we have
been leaping rocks all day, and wading till our limbs were
numb. With warm clothes substituted for our wet ones,
and our legs thawed out once more, avc v;ill quietly toss
a fresh log on the fire, and make a royal blaze. While our
comrades are unconscious in the arms of Morpheus, we will
revel in its warmth for a brief half hour. Let us set the
kettle a boiling, and with sugar, nutmeg, and a spoon con-
coct a soothing sling. Now drink it slowly. Remark how
gradually its genial, vivifying warmth coui'ses through the
veins, lulling the senses, closing the eyelids slowly, repressing
thoughts and consciousness, composing to rest. There ! now
gather the glowing embers together, draw your rubber blan-
ket snugly to your chin, pull doAvn the rim of your soft felt-
hat closely around your face and ears, commend yourself to
Him whose love protects, and then — sleep ! In the solitude
of these silent, sheltering woods is absolute security. The
midnight stars are keeping watch ; a doleful cricket chirps
betimes; and out of the distant gloom come the hollow
melancholy ululations of an owl.
Thus we measure out one little span of life in these " Big
Woods."
THE PACIFIC SLOPE.
t|^ROM Lake Superior to the eastern slope of the Rocky
^fr Mountains, there is a belt of territory about three
^I^ffl^ hundred miles wide, extending through Minnesota '
and Daco^ah, and westward, which seems to have
been segregated to the black bass ( Oristes nigri-
cans). Few trout are caught between the Minnesota or St.
Peter's River, and the northern boundary of the United
States ; but the country abounds in lakes which swarm with
bass. This glorious game-fish exists here in its full perfection
of size, beauty and activity. It is taken with the troll or fly.
Within a radius of twenty-five miles around the new town
of Brainard, Minnesota, on the Northern Pacific Railroad,
are numerous lakes, easily accessible from Duluth, Avhich
afford the very best of sport, though waters equally well
stocked are found all through the country.
The Rocky Mountains are traversed everywhere by trout
streams ; and the overland tourist who is inclined to spend
the months of July and August among their peaks and
defiles and magnificent upland parks, can hardly cast his
line amiss in any of them. In the vicinity of Sherman, on
the line of the Union Pacific Railway, 550 miles west of
Omaha, the trout -fishing is equal to any on the road. Dale
Creek, a tributary of the Cache-tl-la-Poudre River, and other
stream's in the immediate neighborhood, abound in trout of
218 THE PACIFIC SLOPE.
the finest quality, and weighing from a quarter of a pound
to two pounds each ; their flesh is as hard and white as that
of the mountaiu-trout of Vermont. Even the tiniest rivulets
swarm with them. Fifteen miles beyond Sherman, at Vir-
ginia Dale, the Dale Creek traverses a caflon whose walls are
600 feet high, and the adjacent scenery is wonderfully
diversified by grottoes, gorges, dells, cafions, precipices,
towering-peaks, and rugged recesses. Antelope, elk, black-
tailed deer, bears, sage-hens, and grouse, abound in the hills
and on the j)lateaus. There is- excellent hotel accommoda-
tion for the sportsman. Within a radius of twenty-five
miles from Sherman are many natural curiosities and points
of interest, including Old Fort Laramie, which render a
sojourn here very attractive ; and doubtless this locality will
soon become a favorite summer resort for tourists and anglers.
The Black Hills flank the valley on one side, and the Eocky
Mountain ranges upon the other. Lake Como and the
Medicine Bow Eiver, seventy-five miles farther west, abound
in trout. At Fort Bridger, a few miles from Carter Station,
there is a good hotel, kept by Judge Carter, good fishing,
and guides at service. Bear River and Bear Lake, in Utah,
are reached by stage from Corinne or Ogden Stations. A
small steamer plies on the river and lake, taking passengers
and excursion parties to various points. Echo Creek, Chalk
Creek, Silver Creek, and Weber River, are accessible from
Echo City, and combine rare fishing and hunting with the
grand scenery of the Echo and Weber Cafions. Maggie's
Creek, and many other tributaries of the Humboldt River,
abound in trout, and may be easily reached from Carlin and
neighboring stations. But, to specify names or localities to
any great extent, would require a knowledge of the country
possessed only by some old " mountain man " or geological
surveyor. It will consume many weeks to exhaust the
novelty and attractions of the few already named herewith,
and they are the very best on the line of the road.
Very different to-day is the journey to California from the
THE PACIFIC SLOPE. 219
old-time wagon travel of twenty years ago. The Overland
Coaches were not running then, and it was as much as a
man's " har " was wortli to run the gauntlet of the predatory
Indians.* A few days' ride in a Pullman car, with every
luxury at command, will take one across the " Divide " to
the Pacific slope. Luxuriating there in an arcadia of bound-
less extent, with a climate of wonderful salubrity, the angler
can unfold a revelation of new experiences startling in their
magnitude and sublimity. The scenery of California has
formed the inexhaustible theme of every person who has
traveled that way ; and if it be that the tourist is impelled
by an angler's impulses, as well as by an innate love of
nature, he will find his way to virgin lakes and streams
where artificial fly has never trailed, and whose silvery trout
ave no suspicion of wiles or stratagems. Of those waters
adjacent to and accessible from the railroad, may be men-
tioned Truckee Lake and River, with their five-pound black-
trout ; the Ogden River, three miles from Ogden city, with
its black-trout, and its silver-trout, that sometimes weigh
twenty pounds apiece ; Donner Lake, two miles and a half
from Truckee Lake, a beautiful bottomless lake, three miles
long by one mile wide, with black and silver trout ; Lake
Tahoe, nine miles from Truckee, black and silver trout
again ; with the grand preserve of the Comer Company,
stocked with its 2,500 black-trout, weighing from two to
twelve pounds apiece ; and so on, almost ad nauseam, so
abundant and large are the fish. But the game is sluggish,
and not like the lithe, active denizens of the Keepigon or the
Tabusintac ; and one's desire soon cloys. Then there is the
Russian River, near Healdsburg, that has a variety of more
vigorous trout, much like the speckled trout of the Atlantic,
and doubtless identical with it ; and the Merced River, in
the Yosemite Valley, with a very peculiar chubby-trout,
marked with curious spots, and a coral lateral line from gill
* See Harper's Magazine, Vol. XV., page 638.
230 THE PACIFIC SLOPE.
to tail. Most of these waters are much frequented by resi-
dents of San Francisco, Sacramento, and other sea-board
towns, as well as by travelers. Their superabundant fish
afford an inexhaustible fund of food to numerous Digger
Indians, unkempt and squalid, who lure them by disgusting
tricks and low-bred subterfuges. A favorite mode of fishing
is to " chum " them by blowing mouthsful of bait into the
water, and when numbers have been attracted to the spot,
catch them with rude tackle baited with worms or cut-up-
fish. At night they often set an old stump ablaze by the
water-side to allure their victims, and then the scene is
picturesque indeed, with the lurid glare lighting up the
darkness, and casting fantastic shadows upon the back-
ground.
California has a sea- Dast line of nearly eight hundred
miles. From the Coast Range of mountains, which adjoins
the coast line for the greater part of this distance, nearly
one hundred rivers and streams empty into the Pacific
Ocean. These streams and rivers vaiy from twenty to sixty
miles in length. The drainage of the western slope of the
Sierra Nevada, through seven degrees of latitude, forms sev-
eral hundred streams, whose united waters make the Sacra-
mento and San Joaquin Rivers — the first navigable for a
distance of one huhdred and eighty miles, and the last nav-
igable .one hundred miles from the ocean. The waters from
the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada flow into brackish
and salt lakes in the State of Nevada, and have no outlet
into the ocean. Pyramid Lake, the largest of these, receiving
the waters of the Truckee River, is forty miles long and
twenty miles wide. The inland bays and fresh-water lakes
of California cover more than six hundred and fifty square
miles — an area half as large as the State of Rhode Island.
Salmon are abundant in the Sacramento and the Joaquin,
and were formerly plenty in the Feather, Yuba, and Ameri-
can Rivers. In the first two they have materially decreased
of late years, while in the others they have ceased to run
THE PACIFIC SLOPE. 221
altogether, having probably been driven out by the poison-
ous drainage fronri the mines along their borders. Trout are
found in nearly all the streams that discharge into the
Pacific Oceaii from the Coast Range of mountains, and in
the greater number of the mountain streams of the Sierra
Nevada. They vary greatly in size and appearance in differ-
ent Avaters, and at different seasons; but so far no variety
is exactly similar to any of the brook-trout of the New
England States. The large brown and silver trout of Lake
Tahoe and the Truckee River are pronounced by Mr. Seth
Green not to be trout, but species of the land-locked salmon.
These fish make annual migrations from Lake Tahoe to the
brackish waters of Pyramid Lake. Many of the fishermen
of Tahoe insist that the so-called silver-trout docs not
leave the lake ; but, as they are occasionally caught in the
river, it is probable they also migrate, but perhaps at an ear-
lier or later season. In the streams of the Coast Range of
mountains the trout spawn in November and December; in
the streams of the Sierra Nevada in March and April.
There arc no trout in the mountain streams above large
falls. If there ever were trout above the falls, they have
passed below them in their migrations down stream, and are
debari'ed from returning.
Of good trout streams on the coast may be mentioned the
Gobethey Creek, two miles below Spanishtown ; Lobetis
Creek, four miles below; the San Gregoria, which is fre-
quented by salmon also; Pompona Creek, four miles from
San Gregoria; and the Pescadero, a confluent of the Butena
River, the latter abounding in salmon (so-called), in
such quantities that, from October to March, wagon-loads
of fish weighing from two to thirty pounds are taken daily
and sold at the high price of seventy-five cents per pound.
Great complaint is made of the depletion of lakes and
streams by the erection of dams and the refuse of factories
which poison the water : the same old story of the Eastern
States repeated. Waters which formerly swarmed with fish
223 THE PACIFIC SLOPE.
are now wholly impoverished. Since the creation of a Fish-
ery Commission by the State, its officers have not ceased in
their efforts to stay the destruction. They have restocked
some of the streams with native and imported fish, estab-
lished breeding works, and caused some passes to be made
over dams. Although California is a new State, the work
has not been begun one moment too soon, and much time
will be required to repair the losses already incurred.
Of the waters of the North Pacific, tales are told that
would seem incredible, were they not confirmed by repeated
and niost reliable assurances. There the salmon swarm in
countless numbers. They spawn all the year round ; and at
certain periods they fill the rivers of the Arctic Ocean, the
rivers of Alaska, the Gulf of Georgia, of British Columbia,
Puget's Sound, and all the tributaries of the Columbia whose
falls are not insurmountable. In the cations and contracted
channels, during March and April, they so crowd the rivers
as absolutely' to impede the passage of canoes. Indians,
armed with long poles fitted with a cross-piece, through
which long nails are driven, resembling rakes, hang over the
rocks that confine the river, and with an upward jerk impale
as many fish as there arc nails. It is said that Seepays, the
Colville Indian salmon-chief, who has a monopoly of the fish-
ing at the Chaudi^re, or Kettle Falls of the Columbia,
catches 1,700 per day, weighing an average of thirty pounds
apiece. At this distance of 700 or 800 miles from the sea,
they have become so exhausted that, in their efforts to leap
the falls, they batter themselves against the rocks, so that
they fall back stunned, and often dead; they then float
down the river some six miles, where they are picked up by
another camp of Indians who do not belong to the salmon-
chief's jurisdiction. In the fall, the run is even greater, and
the river is filled with such numbers of the dead floating or
cast up along shore, that they poison the atmosphere, and
cause the river to stink for miles! In the liead- waters,
horses and pack-mules fording are made to jump and plunge
THE PACIFIC SLOPE. 223
with fright by the fish flapping against thoir legs! Up and
down a distance of two and a half degrees of latitude, the
Indians spear and net them in immense quantities. The
Hudson's Bay Company long exported them largely, smoked,
dried, and pickled. Halted salmon they sold at $10 per bar-
rel, for shipment to China, the Sandwich Islands, and the
South American coast.
Of speckled trout in the cold streams that flow into Pugct's
Sound, there is no end — even of eight-pounders. Not only
can they be netted by the Avagon-load, but caught by the
hand by wading out into the stream.
It has been generally believed that the salmon of the
Pacific never rise to a fly, and repeated tests by expert
anglers have failed to controvert the opinion. Nevertheless,
had the experiments been made in the autumn, instead of
the summer months corresponding to the fishing season on
the Atlantic coast, this opinion Avould readily have been
found to be erroneous. The fact is, the Pacific salmon can
be caught with the fly at any time after • the fall rams com-
mence.
When the great railway routes now reaching toward
the Northwest — the Canadian Pacific, the Northern Pacific,
the Oregon and Idaho branch of the Union Pacific, and
the California and Oregon, fi-om Sacramento to Portland —
when these arc completed, the great Columbia River and the
rivers of Puget's Sound will be brought within easy access.
At present the overland journey to San Francisco and thence
by steamer to Portland and Victoria, Vancouver's Island, is
not tedious or difficult.
BLOOMING GROVE PARK.
T has been ascertained to an almost mathematical
nicety that it will cost the metro})olitan angler one
^ dollar for every pound of trout he takes, no matter
where or under what circumstances he fishes. If
ho go to trout preserves in the vicinity of the cities, he
will he charged a dollar per pound for all the fish he catches,
or several dollars per day for fish that he may, but does not
catch. Should he select the streams or ponds within one
hundred miles or so of town, he will find them depleted by
much fishing; and the expenses of his journey and contin-
gencies will bring the cost of the few fish he takes up to the
inevitable dollar per pound. Or should he prefer remote
localities where trout can not only be had for the catching,
but swarm in such abundance as absolutely to embaiTass the
angler, the measure of his expenses will still be a dollar per
pound. At the same time, he will ! 3 unable to enjoy the
pleasure of bringing his fish homo, or even of eating more
than a few of them on the spot. The same conditions are
relatively true of salmon, or any other description of genuine
game-animals or game-fish. If the angler hire a river in
Labrador or Canada, it is quite probable that lie may catch
a thousand pounds of salmon in the course of a month's fish-
ing ; but the price of his lease and his expenses for traveling,
guides, boat, provisions, outfit, and et ceteras, to say nothing of
time consumed, will foot up a dollar per pound. Or, if he go
BLOOMING GROVE PARK. 225
down to Long Island for u cou])lc of days, and capture a
jdozen pounds of trout at the regulation i)rice demanded for
the privilege of li«liing, his expenses will be found to reach
This is the high tariff at present imposed upon tl'ic sports-
man's indulgence. The oidy way to eheaj)en his amusement
is to " encourage home industry," and make tish abundant
in all neighborhood localities. Pisciculturists have accom-
plished much toward re-stocking exhausted and depleted
waters, but their efforts have not yet been productive of im-
portant economic results. The work of })ropagation has not
been sufficiently diffused over the countiy to reduce the mar-
ket price of trout, or place good fishing-grounds within easy
and inexpensive access of the pubhc.
The " Blooming Grove Park Association," so far as its own
territory is concerned, has fulfilled both of these conditions.
It has a domain of more than 12,000 acres within a few
hours' ride of New York city by the Erie Railroad, where its
members may not only fish, but hunt, ad libitum, free of
charge. The sportsman may leave New York, or any other
adjacent city, and in twenty-four hours return with a saddle
of ven'son, a bag of birds, or a basket of trout. To active
business men whose time is precious, this is an advantage
worthy of consideration. Every year, there are many gentle-
men of sporting proclivities, Avith but a week to spare, who
are compelled to forego their favorite pastime, because the
ordinary hunting resorts are so distant that they have no
sooner reached the ground and got fairly to work, than they are
con.pelled to pack up and return. Recognizing these disabili-
ties, and appreciating the necessity of more accessible sporting-
grounds, two gentlemen of New York, well known to sports-
men and the public generally, Fayette S. Giles, Esq., and
Genio C. Scott, Esq., some three years ago conceived the
idea of providing a grand park or inclosure within a reason-
able distance of New York, where game might be bred and
protected as it is in Europe in the grand forests of Fontaine-
15
326 BLOOMING GROVE PARK.
bleau and the Grand Duchy of Baden. Both gentlemen
had the necessary knowledge and experience to guide them
in their undertaking, Mr. Giles having been a resident of
France for six years, and engaged actively in field sports,
both in the forests of Fontainebleau and in Germany, while
Mr. Scott has always been regarded good authority in
matters piscatorial, and is well known as the author of
" Fishing in American Waters."
Great difficulty Avas experienced in finding a sufficiently
large tract of land anywhere near New York that contained
the necessary requisites of stream, lake, upland, lowland, and
forest ; but at last a spot was found perfectly suited to the
purpose in Pike county, in the extreme north-eastern por-
tion of the State of Pennsylvania. Here fine streams were
found running through pleasant valleys, eight beautiful lakes
were within easy walking distance of each other, and a range
of high wooded hills crossed the southern end of the tract.
To add to the advantages and attractions of the country,
deer were already found in the woods in great numbers, and
woodcock, ruffed-grouse and wild pigeons were met with at
every turn. The streams were already stocked with splendid
trout, and the tract seemed really a sportsman's paradise.
One of its greatest advan„„ges was its proximity to New
York, being distant from :. city only four and a half hours
by the Erie Railroad ; and tne sportsmen who had conceived
the idea of establishing an American Fontainebleau, saw at
once that they had found the proper location for it. About
twelve thousand acres of land were purchased, and in such a
form as to include all the finest of the lakes, the mountain-
ous country, and the best of the streams, the entire property
being located in the townships of Blooming Grove, Porter,
and Greene. It was at once decided to form a club of
gentlemen fond of sporting for the purpose of improving,
stocking, and enclosing the tract. The result was the incor-
poration, in March, 1871, of the "Blooming Grove Park
Association."
BLOOMING GROVE PARK. 227
This Association now includes about one hundred members
from a dozen difl'erent States, principally married men with
families. It has a large new club-house or hotel, romanti-
cally located upon the borders of one of the larger lakes, a
boat-house and boats, Indian canoes, etc., croquet lawns and
other recreation for the ladies, summer-houses, a natural
history and zoological department, with several live speci-
mens, bathing-grounds, etc. In short, the " park " is a
summer resort of the most classical and high-toned character,
combining all the ordinary attractions of watering-places
with the main objects for which the Association was insti-
tuted. Members pay the almost nominal sum of 11.25 per
day for board, and the whole economy of the park is so con-
trived as to secure the greatest amount of gratification and
profit at the least possible expense. Cottages may be erected
and occupied by those who prefer not to board at the hotel.
The primary objects of this Association are the importing,
accHmating, propagating, and preserving of all game animals,
fur-bearing animals, birds, and fishes adapted to the climate ;
the afibrding of facilities for hunting, shooting, fishing and
boating to members on their own grounds ; the establishment
of minkeries, otteries, aviaries, etc. ; the supplying of the spawn
of fish, young fish, game animals, or birds, to other associations
or to individuals ; the cultivation of forests ; and the selling
of timber and surplus game of all kinds ; in a word, to give
a fuller development to field, aquatic and turf sports, and to
compensate in some degree for the frightful waste which is
annually devastating our forests and exterminating our
game.
There is no personal liability on the part of any member
or officer of the Association for the debts or liabilities of the
Association, but the property of the corporation is liable for
its debts, in the same manner as the property of individuals
under the laws of the State. The capital stock is $225,000,
consisting of 500 shares of $450 per share ; each share con-
stituting full membership, with all club privileges, and
228 BLOOMIIifG GROVE PARK.
carrying pro rata ownership in the property and all its
improvements. The capital may be increased to 1500,000,
by increasing the land held in fee, and the Association is
empowered to acquire, by gift or otherwise, and hold lands
in Pike and Monroe counties in Pennsylvania, not to exceed
thirty thousand acres, and may lease, hire and use neighbor-
ing lands to the extent of twenty thousand acres, making
the right to control fifty thousand. And the Association
may issue bonds, sell, convey, mortgage or lease any or all
its property, real or personal, from time to time. The cor-
poration makes its own game laws. The penalties for poach-
ing are defined in the charter, and are very severe. For
instance, for taking fish, the fines are 12 for every fish, and
15 per poujid in addition; elk or moose, 1300; deer, $40
each, etc. ; so, also, for setting fire or damaging any property
of the Association. The gamekeepers or wardens are made
deputy-sheriffs and constables, with power to arrest poachers
or any person infringing the laws of the corporation.
A great amount of work has been done by the Association
during the two years of its existence. In addition to the
erection of a most attractive club-house, eighty feet long and
three and a half stories high, with an extension, it has put
up a large boat-house ; built a dam to raise a lake five feet ;
enclosed 700 acres of forest with a deer-proof wire fence eight
feet high, and stocked it with deer; built a commodious
game-keeper's and refreshment house therein ; stocked three
of the large lakes with black bass from Lake Erie; com-
menced trout works ; uitroduced a few land-locked salmon ;
erected rustic gateways, and summer-houses; built roads,
laid out avenues, paths, and a croquet lawn ; created a fleet
of boats and canoes; and imported a kennel of dogs of best
stock and approved varieties. Altogether, it is a vast enter-
prise for this continent, and its present condition reflects
great credit upon the sagacity of Fayette S. Giles, Esq., its
President, in perceiving that the people of America were pre-
pared to foster such a scheme, as well as upon his energy and
BLOOMING GROVE PARK. 229
perseverance in carrying it to a successful consummation. It
has received unusually favorable endorsement from the news-
paper press, and seems to meet with the greater favor from the
fact that it holds out inducements to ladies to participate in
the sports and schemes of their husbands. Here will be one
asylum, at least, where the enervated belles of New York can
spend a season, and in the sports of the field regain ten years
of youth as capital for future camimigns at Saratoga or Long
Branch. There is no reason why a lady should not learn to
cast a fly and ensnare the wily trout as skillfully as the most
expert male angler, and with a hght rifle they would soon
learn to enjoy a wait upon a run-way for a final crack at the
spotted deer. No more sensible, healthful, or rational enjoy-
ment could be proposed than a month's out-door sport in a
locality so well stocked with game, and it is to be hoped that
such a pastime may find more favor in the future with people
who usually spend their summer vacation idly making a
tour of the watering-places and fashionable resorts, and from
vi^hich they generally return to town more weary and languid
than at the outset.
The " Blooming Grove Park " is entitled to a prominent
place among the sporting resorts of America.
NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL
PROPAGATION.
^NGLAND and the older countries of Europe long ago
found it necessary to adopt means to preserve their
^/d wild game and fish from total extinction. The
rapid increase of population and the spread of set-
tlements not only depopulated the forests and
streams, but denuded the land of its timber, so that eventu-
ally plans for restocking and reproduction became objects of
most serious consideration and earnest practical application
on the part of scientific and thoughtful men. Judicious
legislation, combined with the active cooperation of landed
proprietors and sportsmen, have secured results exceeding
the anticipations of the most sanguine, results remarkable
for the ease with which they Avere accomplished, and re-
munerative in every instance. At present nearly every king-
dom, state, and province has its game. Zoological gardens,
acclimating societies, public and private parks, fish works,
and all manner of associations for breeding and preserving
game and fish, are found all over the Continent. Indeed, the
whole subject has attained so great importance that statistics
bearing thereupon are eagerly sought and collected by the
British Foreign Office, through its legations, wherever they
exist. Considered in its length and breadth, it involves the
prosperity of communities to a degree that is not dreamed of
NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION. 231
now, hut will be recognized and appreciated in years to come.
It stands in the same relation to mankind as the early
attempts to domesticate and breed cattle and sheep; and
just as, at the present day, no branch of industry is deemed
more praiseworthy than the improving the breed of our
domestic animals and aiding their increase, so eventually will
be the preserving and propagating of game animals, birds,
and fish. If we would live, we must produce the food that
nourishes and sustains life.
Our own country, though comparatively new, and origi-
nally teeming with fish, has already suffered so much from
reckless and indiscriminate slaughter, that measures, equally
stringent with those of Europe, have become necessary to
prevent their total extinction here. We have seen how
nearly the noble salmon came to annihilation in all the
rivers of our Eastern and Middle States. We have heard > he
oft-told stoiy of his early history. We know that there are
men now living who dipped salmon with nets below the
Saranac dam at Plattsburg ; we know that they were abun-
dant in the Hudson, and that the Connecticut teemed with
them ; that nenrly every river in Maine yielded rich annual
tribute to the fishermen ; that the Memmac was a famous
river ; that they ascended all the rivers that empty into Lake
Ontario and the St. Lawrence; and that they were even
taken in the Delaware. We have read of their wanton
slaughter, in season and out of season, and noted the rapid
process of their exclusion from these rivers, one after another,
by the construction of dams that barred their ascent to their
spawning grounds. And the beautiful trout — they, too, dis-
appeared. Once they inhabited every brook and stream;
but tan-bark, saw-dust, and pot-hunters utterly wiped them
out from most of their old haunts. Had it not been for the
establishment of the Fish Commissions and their timely
interpositions some six years ago, nothing would have long
remained of these delicious fish but the record of their former
abundance. Even at the inception of the great work of
232 NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION.
propagation and replenishing in 1866, when that sturdy
pioneer of pisciculture, Seth Green, received from France a
gratuitous consignment of vivified ova for restocking our
streams, our Government was so indifferent or unconscious
of our extremity that they actually detained them in the
Custom House until they died !
Nevertheless, pluck and perseverance, combined with for-
tuitous circumstances, saved our streams from total depopu-
lation. The subject was kept in agitation by gentlemen
who were awake to the value of these material interests.
It was constantly pressed upon the attention of the authori-
ties of several States. Then, one after another, the States
appointed Fish Commissioners, delegated powers to them,
and made appropriations. JN^ew England took the lead;
New York and New^ Jersey followed; and now we have
Commissions, not only in those States, but in Pennsylvania,
Virginia, Alabama, and California. Meanwhile, private indi-
viduals, impatient of delays, had established Fish Farms :
Seth Green, at Mumford, N. Y. ; Stephen H. Ainsworth, in-
ventor of Ainsworth's Spawning Sluice at West Bloomfield,
N. Y. ; and Dr. J. H. Slack, at Bloomsbury, taking the lead.
Canada also took hold of the matter in sober earnest, and
appointed a Fishery Commission which has proved wonder-
fully efficient in working out the most gratifying and im-
portant results. While our States were dallying, or impeded
in obtaining means of replenishing our rivers, which they
did not possess within themselves, Canada, with superior
natural facilities, made rapid progi'ess in the work of recuper-
ation. Though most of her rivers were sadly impoverished,
some still teemed with salmon, and readily supplied the seed
which has multiplied into rich and abundant harvests. All
were at once placed under Government protection and con-
trol. Some were set apart for natural propagation, and
jealously guarded by competent overseers and wardens.
Fish-ways were ordered to be built over or around all dams
which obstructed the ascent of the fish to their spawning-
NATUBAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION. 333
beds. Hatch-houses and fish-farms were estabhshed at New-
castle, Ontario, at the Miramichi River, and at other places.
The most remarkable success attended the first-named from
the outset. It was located on Wilmot's Creek, under the
supervision of S. Wilmot, Esq. In the fall of 1866, he com-
menced with half a dozen salmon, the only remnant of those
that escaped extermination in the creek. From this slen-
der stock he obtained about 1,500 ova, which he placed in
his hatching-house. The fry obtained were nurtured a
proper time, and placed in the stream. He repeated an-
nually the operation of securing all the ova he could get
from returning salmon. In 1870 the nijmber had increased,
so that 300 salmon and grilse could be seen at one view in
his reception-house. It was filled literally to overflowing.
Over and above the fish in the building, it was believed by
many that there was a still greater number in the stream
below. In 1870, one hundred and fifty thousand young fry
were let loose from this establishment. Upwards of three
hundred thousand ova were hatched in the winter of 1871.
Mr. Wilmot claims these salmon to be the " giants of their
race," and he says ninety-six salmon were in the reception-
house at one time, and seventy-nine of them measured be-
tween thirty-five and forty inches in length. In good con-
dition they would have weighed between thirty and forty
pounds each.
The Canadian Government extended its labors from time
to time, as the system developed. Additional breeding ap-
paratus Avas placed at Trout Creek, Moisie River, on the
Lower St. Lawrence. Seven different salmon-farms were
located at rivers of Lake Ontario in 1870, and salmon have
been netted in that lake near Wilmot's Creek in considerable
numbers the past year (1873). There are also four trout
establishments on Lake Ontario. Several rivers in New
Brunswick have been set apart for natural and artificial
propagation, and will soon teem with salmon as of yore.
The valuable waters of the Schoodics have been opened
234 NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION.
to the passage of salmon by the erection of fish-ways. Over
three hundred dams have been provided with fish-passes
throughout the New Dominion. There was, of course, much
opposition at first from mill-owners and fishermen at the
requirements and penalties of the new regime ; but Cana-
dians are naturally tractable and law-abiding, and they not
only soon desisted from all interference, but, perceiving the
beneficial effects of protection, became ardent co-operators
with the Fishery officers. The results have justified the
most sanguine expectations. All through Canada, through-
out the Provinces of Ontario, Quebec, New Brunswick, and
Nova Scotia, which \ncludes Cape Breton, the most gratify-
ing increase in the numbers of trout and salmon is reported
by the district overseers. They have multiplied vastly in
impoverished streams, and reappeared in rivers from which
they had been for many years excluded.
In the United States our piscicultural experiments have
been attended with gratifying results, though the process of
restoration has been much retarded by various causes, one
of which was the very high price charged by the Canadians
for their ova and young fry, upon which we had almost
wholly to depend for restocking our rivers. The cost of eggs
from the hatch-house at Newcastle was forty dollars per
thousand in gold, making the spawn of a single fish cost
several hundred dollars! After having submitted to this
exaction for seveml years, the energetic Fish Commissioner
of Maine, C. G. Atkins, Esq., determined to endeavor to
raise spawn of his own ; and having induced the States of
Massachusetts and Connecticut to bear equal shares of the
expense, commenced a series of experiments in ponds and
streams near Bucksport, Maine. Live salmon-breeders were
bought and placed in these waters, where they were care-
fully nurtured. After a series of partial failures from deaths
caused by ignorant treatment, and losses from freshets, they
succeeded in 1870 in obtaining 72,000 eggs. These were
divided among the three States pecuniarily interested, and
NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAaATION. 235
of them ninety-six per cent hatched. The cost of production
was only $18.09 per thousand, and it is believed they can be
furnished hereafter at $8.00.
With a fair start once gained, progress is rapid. In Ver-
mont, between 30,000 and 40,000 salmon-eggs have been put
into West River, the Winooski, and Williams River. In New
Hampshire, salmon-ova were placed in the Merrimac by Dr.
Fletcher as long ago as 1867, and should be heard from soon,
if alive. Land-locked salmon have been put int-o Newfound
Lake. In Maine, 28,000 salmon-spawn have been put into
the Androscoggin River, and fish-ways have been opened over
the dams at the Grand Lakes so that salmon can now ascend.
The first effort to stock the Connecticut River with salmon
was made in 1868, and large quantities of spawn have been
since put into it; also into the Pequonnqpk, Housatonic,
Shetauket, and Farmington Rivers, and tributaries of the
Quinnebaug. Land-locked salmon have been placed in nine
ponds or rivers of seven counties of Connecticut. Shad
have multiplied rapidly in the Connecticut under protection
and cultivation. The catch of 1871 was three times as large
as that of the previous year. In New York, a State hatch-
house has been established at Rochester, whose operations
have been wholly successful. Several thousands of spawn
have been disposed of to apphcants. Salmon have been
placed in the Hudson, Genesee, and Delaware Rivers, and
trout and salmon-trout in many waters that were barren
before. A hatch-house has also been located at Central
Park, New York city. In New Jersey and Pennsylvania,
salmon-fry have been placed in the Delaware River, and
salmon-trout fry in the Susquehanna. California is not slack
in her efforts to preserve the fish of her valuable rivers from
extinction. She has commenced her work in season, and by
compelling thus opportunely the erection of fish-ways, where-
over needed, will keep up her stock of fish to its natural
t^uota. Some 10,000 Eastern trout have been acclimated in
the waters of California, and are thriving. The trout species
230 NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION.
of that State are quite different from those of the Eastern
States. Altogether, much has been accompUshed within the
past two years, though not without much remonstrance and
serious opposition. In some instances, a vigorous war has
been waged against the dam-constructors and other depreda-
tors. They have been expecially incensed against the Indians
and a Kev. Mr. Balconie, the Missionary Baptist Agent, on
account of their having built a dam across the Tnickee River, ■
between Wadsworth and Pyramid Lakes, which prevented
the trout from ascending the river. Last April they under-
took to remove the obstruction. They raised $100 by sub-
scription, which they gave to a man to go down and blow up
the dam with giant powder. The charge of powder was
sunk on the upper side of the dam, and v.'hen the explosion
took place a colunjn of mud and water was thrown up tx) the
height of nearly a hu'ndred feet. Long pine trees that had
floated down the river and lodged against the dam, were
lifted several feet into the air and rained down everywhere.
The man who fired the charge had screened himself behind
a big cotton-wood tree, and down among tlie limbs of this
tree came crashing a rock of fifty-pounds weight, causing
him to do some lively dodging. The dam was totally de-
stroyed, and doubtless great numbers of fish, but t,he man
who bossed the "blow-up" did not stop to look for fish.
He traveled from that vicinity at a lively pace, as he ex-
pected the Indians to take his trail as soon as they discov-
ered what he had done. The blowing up of the dam gave
free passage up the ri^- to the trout. The residents in the
vicinity declare they will keep the dam open if it takes fifty
men to do it.
Altogether, the work of propagation and restoration-
throughout the entire country during the last three years,
especially in New England, has been very considerable ; still
it is hardly time to look for astounding results. It is one
thing to stock a stream from which salmon have been ex-
cluded for many years, and quite another to merely remove
NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION. 237
obstructions which bar the passage of thousands eager and
waiting to ascend, as in Canada. It will be many years
before we can expect to reach the enviable position even Jiow
enjoyed by our neighbors.
Private enterprise has accomplished full as much, perhaps,
as our State authorities. Besides the tish-farms of Green,
Ainsworth, and Slack, which are operated for pecuniary
profit, we have those of Rev. William Clift in Connecticut;
of Livingston Stone, at CharlestoAvn, New Hampshire ; of
W. H. Funnan, at Maspeth, L. I. ; a hatch-house at Farm
River, North Branford, Ct. ; works at Little River, Middle •
town, Ct., and near Saratoga, New York; Seller and
McConkey's preserve at Harrisburg, Pa. ; and Christie's,
near the same locality. There are a large number of strictly
private trout preserves and farms of the most expensive
character scattered over the country, like Massapiqua and
Maitlands, Long Island, and the extensive establishment of
John Magee, Esq., at Watkins, in Central New York. The
public in general have become interested in the work, and
regard with no ordinary concern its successful progress ; albeit
the opposition of fishermen and manufacturers has been more
bitter and persistent here than in Canada. Wealthy and
intelligent corporations, like the mill-owners on the Merri-
mac, the Holyoke Water-Power Company on the Connecti-
cut, and the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company, have
resisted by every device the legal requirement to build fish-
ways over their dsms. At last the Lawrence dam. has been
made passable, and salmon ascend the Merrimac, but ^he
owners of the other two still hold out against the repeated
decisions of the courts against them. When these bars are
removed, our fish-food will increase and cheapen in the mar-
kets. It is not the wanton destruction of fish-life by im-
proper means in season and out of season that exterminates,
but the dams that prevent the natural increase by excluding
the breeders from their spawning-grounds at the head-waters
of rivers. The fecundity of salmon, shad, and trout is mar-
238 NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION.
velous. The former produces from 30,000 to 50,000 eggs ;
the shud from 50,000 to 100,000 ; and the trout from 1,000
to 8,000 ; ticcording to their ages. It is apparent that hy
judicious, skillful, and intelligent culture the increase must
be enormous and the pecuniary profits coiTcspondingly large,
allowing liberally for casualties. It is said that an acre of
good water can be made to produce twice as much food as
an acre of good land. The calculation has been made upon
actual data, that a trout farm whose cost and expenses will
reach an aggregate of $47,000 in four years, will yield a net
profit at the end of that period of $431,000 ! These figures
are given, not as an inducement for everybody to embark in
fish-culture, but to show what proportionate results may be
expected from our protected rivers and streams when they
shall have become fully replenished.
In the establishment of Andrew Gierke, Esq., New York,
is a hatching apparatus in full operation, where one can
watch the process through all its various stages. Last Jan-
uary the small-fry began to burst their envelopes and emerge
into fish-life. Among the rest was a double fish, or rather
two perfect fishes united just below the dorsal fin. From
the junctiod, tailward, there was a single body, like that of
any ordinary fish, with its second dorsal, anal, and caudal fins.
With a microscope it was quite easy to trace the anatomical
structure through the transparent flesh. There were two sep-
arate and perfectly distinct systems, with a vent common to
both. The nondescript seemed in perfect health and remark-
ably active. At last accounts it was alive and doing well.
There are many monstrosities in the piscatory kingdom, and
those who roam will often find them out ; but seldom does
a like phenomenon come under the notice of the " Fishing
Tourist.''^
And now, at the conclusion of his wilderness ramblings,
with some fatigue of the protracted journey and an appetite
sharpened by its vicissitudes, he would fain sit down at even-
tide and rest ;
NATURAL AND ARTIFICIAL PROPAGATION.
239
" Day is done brown ami s^t away to cool ;
And evening like a Haliid froBh and muist,
And pepporod with her mustor'd stars, comes on ; —
The moon, like a largo chees*!, cut just in half.
Hangs o'er the landscape most invitingly ; —
The milky way reveals her silver stream
'Mid the blanc-mange-like clouds that tleck the sky ;-
The cattle dun, sleeping in pastures brown,
Show like huge doughnuts in the deepening gloom.
How like a silver salver shines the lake !
Whih; mimic clouds upon its surface move,
Like floating islands in a crystal bowl.
The dews come down to wash the flower-cups clean.
And night-winds follow them to wipe them dry.
" On such an eve as this 'tis sweet to sit,
And thus commune with Nature, as she brings
Familiar symbols to the thoughtful breast,
And spreads her feast of meditative cheer.
Day with its broils and fiery feuds is o'er,
Its jars discordant and its seething strifes.
And all its boiling passions hushed in peace.
Old Earth, hung on the spit before the sun,
Turns her huge sides alternate to his rays.
Basted by rains and dews, and cooks away.
And so will cook, till she is done — and burnt."