ALBERT R. MANN
LIBRARY

NEw York STATE COLLEGES
OF
AGRICULTURE AND HoME EcoNomIcs

AT

CORNELL UNIVERSITY

 

THE GIFT OF

WILLARD A. KIGGINS, JR.
in memory of his father

 

 

 

 
THE

GAME FISH

OF

THE NORTHERN STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES.

WITH AN

ACCOUNT OF THE SALMON AND SEA-TROUT FISHING OF CANADA AND
NEW BRUNSWICK, TOGETHER WITH SIMPLE DIREOTIONS

FOR TYING ARTIFICIAL FLIES, ETO., ETC.

By ROBERT B. ROOSEVELT,

AUTHOR OF “SUPERIOR FISHING,” “‘ THE GAME BIRDS OF THE NORTH,’ ETC.

NEW YORK:
CaRLETON, PuBLIsHER, 413 BroaDway.

M DCOC LXV.
 

inrerep according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by
G@. W. CARLETON,

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States forthe Southern District
of New York.
A.

  

PAGE

page| sox tredecem radiatus........ 184
Allowance of provisions........ 304|Expenses to New Brunswick... 321
Attihawmeg ........... svteouaeers 147)
‘ F.
B. Flies and knots.......... areiinecers 255
Bass, DIAC. ccs cisivevecsissarsue Sidpens pace 217 fOr PASSes 60.5 seen dw eeeenies O75
Otsego...........6- oe ++ 151 for salmon..........- +0 268
BOCK ooo iereneinioiarepeatniontes +6 222 for troutes <cco8c06 e5seees 16
Baits for trout............. «+++ 83/French vocabulary.............820
Black fly........-. ey ieuiduaeascueusheve 289 .
BUUG2f SB ies. cvic soentie re cre reveretsitiertiens 153
Boiestown....... ey G.
Ghost of Deadman’s Landing. ...126
Cc. - story of Abraham........129
. 1ASS-CY Csi sas ecieaseucesawers 224
Camp EES acexpmisicesinsrctes ens 20 Green teh es enis een
Oibiarehus genes. cscsnccecsc 999| Grystes nigricans.......+..000. 217
fAsCiatUs.......000- 217
CiS60 wv arneensiencarenasree mane 6 149 H.
Classification of fish......... 4, 821|Horse mackerel ....... sou teiea LBS
Cooking ........... « «295-299
Coregonus albus.....eseccacees 147 L
Otsego. sce. eseenveee 151
Common carp...s...sccseeeees 193|Insects ..........- svecvrakereieierernn QNL
Crab bait........ eeeeaweweagee 200
Curing fish....... sadolarabysraresscer 296 K.
Cyprinus carpio. .....ee+eee++ 163) Knots oo cccecee eee e cece ee ees QBS
E. L.
Ephemera :..ccceeeee eeeceee + -284|Labraxr lineatus. .........000e 202
Fisom e8tor... cee csv cc cceeccone 164|Landing fish........... awerean 28
SUSCIALUS Wo cee cence seeees 187)La Val,......-...08- aiawieeareioces 61
lucioides ....... Siete «181 lak Oss ccs gennesare wares ay UT
reticulatus. ....eeeeeeees 182 NOt £0... .cceccceenes 320

 
INDEX.

PAGE

Laws of fisheries... .807

 

 

 

Lucioperca americana. .....++..224
M.
Mascallonge...... Jonpweoewacinel OL
Mascanonga......... cai euesie akan 164]:
Marshpee ......-...65 cocerees 22
Miramichi.... Aue siyevate feat 120
Moose story......... ae ariyatecacers 131
N.

Newroptera oo. ccc ccv caw ecevees 283
New aimee trip tO ........ 116

NOE... 2... eee 821
Nipisiquiticcssee.Mtesavee yee © 140
O.

Ohio galmon....ss..si eee. 000% 225
Otsego bass.......... sanaes ened DT
P.

Perca labraw...... 1.
flavescens. .
Perch, yellow........
Pickerel.............
COMMON......60..
great northern......... 181
Long Island........... 187
Pickering....... soe seoensees224
Pike, federation...............184
of the lakes..... .
perch.......-....
Baareuaton of fish ‘
Phryganea ...... ele westyige eeer eats 284
R.
Report of Mr. Whitcher........815
Roe of shad or salmon......... 204
Rock-fish....6.cceseececenvees 202

  

Ss.
PAGE
AGO ais ereiessialaitciater ss sietiacerevers © 88
fishing............. 92, 102
habits of............00% 98
PAVERS ao. 5)sacecdsciovosegann ieee 167
rivers, how to reach them 111
time for catching... .94, 808
place for catching....... 94
rod for... .......e eee 91
Ohio... cc eee eee ee 225
Salmo salar......... draperacas ture 88
trutta MATING... 60.0000.
Sciena lineata.
Scollops......
BGS TROLL os ies cordvevacespgecacsini hers
time for catching
Shrimp bait................ 2. 205
Skipjack............ Seas seta ceateia 158
Smoking fish ......
Snap-hook........

Snapping mackerel.......
Spearing. ....... cc cece eee
Spoons

 

T.
Temnodon saltator....:........155
Tents........... saseeyateusiond 293, 308
Thousand Isles........ .2..05 189
-|Transportation of fish.......... 249
7|Trimmers for pickerel.......... 77

Trout, American speckled, or
BROOK asntveie weds 12
HIGS) TOR case eiece sek ete asa 16
fly-fishing for....... eves 18
baits for.......+.0 wane Be
sea, white or silver...... 41
white, or Scoodie........ 145
x

Ww.

White-fish............... wees 149

 

TOU. cece e ce eee eee 45
GAME FISH.

 

CHAPTER I.
INSTRUCTION.

I nave always considered a preface or introduction a
species of apology, and not intending that the following
sketches shall need any apology, I shall write no intro-
duction ; but an explanation of the scientific distinctions
and divisions of fishes may not only be appropriate but
highly instructive, if my readers be as ignorant as I
think them.

It has been a matter of serious reproach by the
naturalists against the sportsmen, that the latter, instead
of adopting a uniform nomenclature, call a bird or fish
in one section of our country by a different name from
that under which it is known in another; that a Quail
and Black Bass at the North become a Partridge and
Trout at the South. The sportsmen, conscious of the
justness of the reproach, have submitted quietly to the
learned stones of reproof hurled at them, and scarcely
dared to suggest that their persecutors lived in the most

fragile of glass houses; that naturalists were liable to
‘ 5
6 INSTRUCTION.

the same accusation, and that there is hardly a fish, bird
or beast that they have not ‘called by several different
names. Are not the contentions of Ortyx and Perdrix
known to all? Is it quite certain, when we catch an
Otsego Bass, whether we catch a Coregonus Otsego or a
Coregonus Albus, or even a Salmo Otsego? Is it per-
fectly ascertained from a scientific point of view that we
catch anything? Who does not know that a Tautog is a
Blackfish, or would be materially instructed by hearing
him called a Tautoga Americana? Scientific men vie
with one another in creating new names, the most use-
less things in Christendom; while sportsmen are happy
to take them, the game, as they find them. The first are
guilty of faults of commission, the latter of omission.
The language of each is Greek to the other.

The writer of these sketches, knowing just sufficient
Greek to be a sportsman, and yet able to translate with
the help of a dictionary, offers, from the want of one
more worthy, to conciliate all differences. His plan is
to translate all terms that are translatable, and to omit
altogether those that are not, trusting that they will
never be missed. His intention at first was to write a
noble work on natural history that would carry his name
in letters of gold, as a public reformer and benefactor, to
latest posterity; but finding, on reviewing his stores of
information, that he knew but little on the subject, he
was compelled to relinquish the idea. Being therefore
nothing but a gentle angler, instead of instructing the
universe, he is content to amuse a small circle of lovers
of sporting anecdotes, and, provided he receives it, will
be content with their approval. As, however, one fool
INSTRUCTION. q

can always teaeh another something, the writer feels
impelled to mingle a little instruction in doses to suit
the weakest stomach, that those who have not skipped
this chapter on account of its title, may at least receive
something for their perseverance. They need not sup-
pose for a moment that the writer pretends to insist upon
what he shall write as infallible, but where his readers
differ from him, is perfectly willing to admit that he is
entirely mistaken ; the buyer of a book is always right,
the author a toujours tort.

He supposes—let there be no misunderstandings when
he accidentally uses a stronger word—that fishes are
divided into two great orders, and are distinguished as
having bony or cartilaginous skeletons; thus a quawl,
provided he be a fish at all; would be a very cartilagi-
nous one, and a catfish with his back fin erected, as the
writer has often learned to his cost, is a bony fish.

As the cartilaginous fish are of small account, the
reader may forget all about them if he wishes, but he is
requested to remember the useful division of those hav-
ing bony skeletons into the great classes, easily distin-
guished, of the soft finned and spiny finned, called in
foreign languages by the horrible terms malacopterygit
and acanthopterygii—terms unpronounceable except by a
Dutchman or a philosopher. These classes are distin-
guished, as the English words imply, by their having the
rays of their fins soft and flexible or hard and spine-like.
The investigator may determine their peculiarities by
pressing strongly upon the points of the fin rays; if
nature intimates that his organism is suffering, the fish is
a acanthop, ete.; if not, why not.
‘8 iNSTRUCTION.

 

The location of the fins of the fish mark the subdivi-
sions of the families. The above diagram being supposed
to represent a fish, and a Trout at that, a is the first back
or dorsal fin, r the second—in the case of this species,
mere rayless, fatty matter; zis the tail fin or caudal—
the writer, as a married man, naturally avoiding the
INSTRUCTION. ‘9

latter term on account of its suggestiveness ; p is the anal
fin, for which the writer can offer no English substitute ;
c are.the two ventrals or belly fins; B is the pectoral or
shoulder fin, having a complemental one on the other
side of the fish; and a represents what in learned lan-
guage are called branchiostegous rays, a name that,
being translated, means merely gill-rays. What is not
inaname! wis the lateralline. Then bearing in mind
the great divisions of soft and hard finned, the subdi-
visions are distinguished by the fish having the ventrals
behind the pectorals and on the abdomen, giving them
the name of abdominal fish, or before the pectorals,
giving rise to the name jugular or throat finned, and
below the pectorals, giving the name thoracic or shoulder-
finned fish. Philosophers pay little attention to the
dorsal and anal fins, and fish, without losing their iden-
tity, can have as many as they please. In caudals,
unlike human Caudles, they are restricted to one. There
are other fish, such as eels, denominated apodat or footless,
because the lower fins or feet are wholly wanting.

After having examined the texture, number and loca-
tion of the fins, and counted the number of the rays in
each, the naturalist next turns his attention to the hard
bony portion of the head, which covers the gills, and opens
and shuts as the fish breathes, and which, with the excel-
lent common sense for which naturalists are notorious,
he calls the operculum. Itis divided into the operculum,
or gill-cover proper, No.1; the pre-operculum, or fore
gill-cover, No. 2; the inter-operculum, or middle gill-
cover, No. 3; and the sub-operculum, or under gill-cover,

No. 4. The head, in the foregoing diagram, is intended
1*
10 INSTRUCTION.

to represent the head of a trout, weighing a pound and a
half, caught at Phillipse’s Pond, near Smith Town, Long
Island. The gill-rays are shown at No. 5. The divisions
of the gill-cover are faintly marked in the real fish, and
require some study.

Lastly, the naturalist examines a fish as a jockey does
a horse, by looking at his teeth, and with about equally
satisfactory results. They both are bitten, whether the
term be used in a literal or metaphorical sense. The
writer once, after catching a large fish, having heard that
trout had teeth in their throats, proceeded to investigate.
Moved thereto by the spirit of inquiry, he thrust one
finger as far as possible down the trout’s mouth, and
was not a little surprised, as well as pained, to find that
the throat was lined with teeth sharper than a serpent’s,
and arranged in the same manner. They inclined back-
ward, and once having penetrated a substance, would
not and could not let go. The writer having suffered the
agony that the pursuit of science sometimes involves,
after exhausting gentle means of escape, and knowing
that he could no more wear a trout, than the old man in
the “Decameron” could the protecting ring, with a
wrench tore away his hand, a bleeding sacrifice to gci-
ence. Any reader wishing to ascertain the same facts,
may pursue a similar course.

On the foregoing diagram, which represents the
arrangement of teeth in the salmon tribe, No. 6 is the
upper jaw, and No. 7 the lower; No. 8, the outer teeth
in the upper jaw, superior mawillary ; No. 9, the same
in the lower jaw, infertor mawillary ; No. 10, the inner
row of teeth of the upper jaw called learnedly the pala
INSTRUCTION. 11

tune ; No 11, the teeth on the tongue, and No. 12 those
on the roof of the mouth, or vomerine. The trout the
writer has examined had no visible teeth on the roof of
the mouth; they had either suffered from toothache
in early life, and applying to a piscatorial dentist, had
them drawn, or the teeth had slipped down and settled
round their throats as the writer has already mentioned.

The reader, therefore, if he wishes to ascertain the
scientific designation of a fish, should in the first place
determine the number and location of the fins, the num-
ber and quality, as soft or hard, of the rays, the number
of gill-rays, the characteristics and position of the teeth,
the formation of the gill-cover, and lastly, as every num-
scull, the drawing teachers assure us, who can write can
draw, a drawing of the fish, or at least an outline,
should be made. The latter can be done simply by
laying the specimen on a sheet of paper, spreading out
his fins and running a pencil round him. And then the
would-be naturalist will ascertain whether or not he
belongs to a class so very liberal as to include salmon
and smelt in the same category. He must not: forget
that it is much more important to study the nature,
habits and food of,the denizens of the water than to store
his memory with their names,“ for our philosophers hith-
erto, instead of studying their nature, have been em-
ployed in increasing their catalogues, and the reader,
instead of observations or facts, is presented with a long
list of names that disgust him with their barren super-
fluity.”
12 THE, AMERICAN TROUT.

CHAPTER II.
THE AMERICAN TROUT.

Tur Brook Trout—The New York Charr—Salmo
fontinalis—Salmon tribe; ventrals in abdomen, rays
soft.

The shoulder and first back fins have each eleven rays;
the second back fin is mere fatty matter and rayless, the
characteristic of the salmon tribe; the ventral has eight,
the anal fifteen, and the tail nineteen rays. The back is
dusky green, mottled with yellow spots; growing lighter
on the sides, where the spots have irregularly a beau-
tiful blue or carmine speck in the centre; the- belly
is silver white, with a roseate tinge as it fades into the
darker colors of the sides; the shoulder fins are yellowish
at the base, the ventrals yellowish red, the anal reddish,
and in all the rays are dusky. The gill-covers have no
defined spots.

The body is covered with delicate scales that will
escape all but the strictest observation. The teeth are
on the tongue and throat, but none on the roof of the
mouth discernible to the naked eye; there is an outer
row on the lower jaw, and an inner and outer row on the
upper jaw. This fish is so well known to the public from
its extensive distribution through the northern States,
and so totally dissimilar from the Perch and Bass, mis:
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 13

called Trout at the South, that a more particular deserip-
tion does not seem necessary.

Another fish taken at the North in the smaller lakes is
called Red Trout, and attains the weight of twenty-five
pounds. It is rare, and would appear to be an unde-
scribed species, differing from the trout of the brooks
and lakes, and not generally known even to sportsmen.
A fish of a somewhat similar character was on exhibition
at an eating-house in this city, but appeared to have
been scaled. It was three feet six inches long, and
weighed eighteen pounds. The back was very dark, the
sides being of a lighter neutral tint, without any spots.
There were a number of vomerine teeth, and the fin-
rays, as far as could be ascertained by a cursory
examination, were—

Br. 12; D. 183 PL ily V. 8s A. 11s ©. 198.

This fish was said to have been taken in Maine, and
differed entirely from the ordinary brook and lake trout.
The fin-rays of the brook trout, as scientifically given
by De Kay, are— .

D. 13:0; P. 12; V.8; A.10; C. 198.

Trout are in season- from the first of February to the
first of September in the Long Island streams; from April
-to September in those streams of the New England States
that communicate with salt water; and from May till
September in the upland waters of the middle and east-
ern States.. There is but one mode of taking them—
namely, with the fly; although it is said poachers and
pot hunters capture them with worms, minnows, nets,
and even with their own roe. These villanies are not
at present punished with death nor even imprisonment
14 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

for life; but our legislature is looking into the matter,
and there is no telling how soon such statutes may be
passed.

~ How splendid is the sport, to deftly throw the long
line and small fly with the pliant single-handed rod, and
with eye and nerve on the strain, to watch the loveliest
darling of the wave,’the spotted naiad, dart from her
mossy bed, leap high into the air, carrying the strange
deception in her mouth, and turning in her flight, plunge
back to her crystal home, with the cruel hook driven into
her lips by a skillful turn of the angler’s wrist; to meet
and foil her in her fierce and cunning efforts to escape,
paying out the line as she rushes away resistless, meeting
her in emergencies firmly and steadily, till the tip crosses
the but, when she insists upon reaching the old stump
or the weedy bottom; to slack the line when she leaps
into air, trying to strike it with her tail; and above all,
to watch the right moment, and keeping her head well
up, to bring the beautiful prize quickly and steadily to
the net! There may be others who have killed more and
larger trout than myself, there may be others who can
cast a longer line and lighter fly ; but there are none who
will work more steadily or who can enjoy it more
intensely.

There are innumerable rules applicable to trout fishing
and innumerable exceptions to each; neither man nor
fish is infallible. A change of weather is always desir-
able: if it has been clear, a-rainy day is favorable; if
cold, a warm one; if the wind has been north, a south-
erly one is advantageous ; a zephyr if it has been blowing
a tornado. Generally, in early spring, amid the fading
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 15

snows and blasts of winter, a warm day is very desirable ;
later, and in the heats of summer, a cold, windy day will
insure success. Dead calm is dangerous, although many
trout are taken in water as still, clear and transparent
as the heavens above. The first rule is never to give
up; there is hardly a day but-at some hour, if there be
trout, they will rise, and steady, patient industry disci-
plines the mind and invigorates the muscles. A south-
erly, especially a southeasterly wind, has a singular
tendency to darken the surface, and in clear, fine waters
is particularly advantageous ; a southwester comes next in
order; a northeaster, in which, by the by, occasionally
there is great success, is the next; and a northwester is
the worst and clearest of all. Give me wind on any
terms, a southerly wind if I can have it; but give me
wind. It is not known what quality of the wind darkens
the water, it may be a haziness produced in the atmos-
phere, although with a cloudy sky the water is often too
transparent; it may be the peculiar character of the
waves, short and broken, as contradistinguished from
long and rolling; but the fact is entitled to reliance.
Slight changes will often affect the fish. On one day
‘in June, in the writer’s experience, after having no luck
till eleven o’clock, the trout suddenly commenced rising,
and kept on without cessation, scarcely giving time to
cast, till two, when they as suddenly stopped. There was
no observable change in the weather, except the advent
of a slight haze, the wind remaining precisely the same.
I was much disappointed, not having half fished the
ground and being prevented, by the numbers that were
taken, from casting over some of the largest fish that
16 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

broke. As it was, I caught seventy trout in what is
ordinarily considered the worst hours of the day. But
in this particular, also, the same rules apply as to the
warmth of the weather. In early spring it is useless to
be up with the lark, even supposing such a bird exists;
no fish will break the water till the sun has warmed the
air; but in summer, the dawn should blush to find the
sportsman napping. In fact, trout will not rise well
unless the air is warmer than the water. They do not
like to risk taking cold by exposing themselves to a
sudden draught.

There is a very absurd impression, that trout will not
take the fly early in the season ; this is entirely unfound-
ed. As soon as the ice disappears-they will be found
gambolling in the salt water streams, and leaping readily
at the fly. At such times, on lucky days, immense
numbers are taken. In March they have run up the
sluiceways and are in the lower ponds, lying sullenly in
the deepest water; then is the cow-dung, politely called
the dark cinnamon, the most attractive fly. In April,
May and June they are scattered, and entrapped by the
hackles, professor, ibis, and all the medium sized flies.
In July and August they have sought the headwaters of
navigation, the cool spring brooks, and hide around the
weeds and water-cresses, whence the midges alone can
tempt them.

Any flies will catch fish, cast in any manner, if the
fish are plenty and in humor to be caught. A few fea-
thers torn from the nearest and least suspicious chicken,
and tied on an ordinary hook with a piece of thread,
will constitute a fly in the imagination of a trout, pro-
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 17

vided he follows, as he sometimes appears to do, the
advice of the young folks, shuts his eyes and opens his
mouth. I cannot recommend such tackle, being con-
vinced the most skillfully made is the best; but I do
advise simplicity of color. One of the best of all flies
is the female cow-dung, made of a dark cinnamon color,
and after the pattern used in England ; there is'a green-
ish abomination unjustly foisted upon American inven-
tion that is worthless. The hackles are in my opinion
altogether inferior, except the black-winged hackle,
which, of a bright warm day, is irresistible. The ibis
and professor, dressed a l’ Américaine, with yellow floss
body and red tail, are both excellent flies. The coach-
man is the best evening fly, and will attract trout long
after the angler can see to strike them, and when the
sound of their plunge alone entices him to continue his
efforts. The May and stone flies are good, and of late years
a fly of mixed red and black, with wings, called by some,
from his colors, the devil-fly, has come into vogue. "The
palmers are only to be despised and avoided. In sum-
mer, of the midges the yellow sally, the alder fly, the
little cinnamon, the black gnat, the black and red ants,
and in fact all others, are attractive. The water is then
covered with myriads of many-colored flies, and there is
hardly any artificial but will find its representative among
the real life.

These are but a few of the flies that can be pur-
chased in the shops, which yearly invent new varie-
ties, regardless of truth to nature or the recommend-
ations of experience. Many have no names whatever,
and in others the workman has given his fancy such play
18 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

that they are unrecognizable. In these pages, when the
uame is given of any fly described in Ronald’s “ Fly-
Fisher’s Entomology,” it is intended that it shall be
dressed after the directions therein contained. A more
full description of the various flies, both in use and to be
found in our waters, will be givert hereafter with some
directions for tying them; but a great deal must be left
to the practical experience of each fisherman, according
to the range of waters he is in the habit of fishing.

Good luck, that synonym for all the virtues, does not
depend so much upon the kind of flies as the skill in
casting, and a poor fly lightly cast into the right spot
will do better execution than the best fly roughly cast
into the wrong place. The lure must be put where the
fish habit, often before their very noses, or they will not
take it; and when they lie, as they generally do in run-
ning streams, in the deep holes under the banks, where
the bushes are closest and cause the densest shade, it
requires some skill to cast properly into the exact spot.
Sacrifice everything to lightness in casting; let the line
go straight without a kink if you can, drop the fly into
the right ripple if possible, but it must drop gently on
the surface of the water. An ugly splash of a clear day
in pure water, and the prey will dart in every direction,
and the angler’s hopes scatter with them.

A beginner may practise a certain formula, such as
lifting the line with a waive and a smart spring, swinging
it backward in a half circle, and when it is directly
behind him, casting straight forward; but as soon as he
has overcome the rudimentary principles, he should cast
in every manner, making the tip of his rod cut full cir-
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 19

cles, figure eights, and all other figures, behind him,
according to the wind; bearing in mind, however, ever
to make his fly drop as gently as a feather. He should
use his wrist mainly, and practise with each hand, and
should never be otherwise than ashamed of a bungling
cast, though he be alone, and none but the fish there to
despise him. If the line falls the first time with a heart-
rending splash all in a tangle, it is useless to make the
next cast properly. The fish have found out the trick, and
know too much to risk their necks in any such a noose.

A skillful fisherman can cast almost any length of line,
but practically, fifty feet, counting from the reel, is all
that can be used to advantage. Some English books say
only the leader (gut links) should alight in the water; but
this is nonsense, for at least one half the line must fall
into the water, unless the fisherman stand on.a high
bank. With a long line the difficulties of striking and
landing the fish are greatly increased; in striking, there
is much slack line to be taken up; in landing, it requires
some time to get the fish under control, and he is apt to
reach the weeds or a stump.

That most excellent fisherman and learned scholar, Dr.
Bethune, in his edition of Waltén, Part IL, page 73,
says that candid anglers must confess that nine out of ten
trout hook themselves ; this may be so in streams teeming
with fish, where a dozen start: at once, frantically striving
to be the first; but in clear, well-fished streams, not one
"fish in a thousand will hook himself; and on Long Island
‘an angler would grow grey ere he filled his basket if he
did not strike, and that quickly. Striking, to my mind,
is by far the most important point, and hundreds of fish
20 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

have I seen escape for want of quickness. It must be
done quickly but steadily, and not with a jerk, as the
latter is apt, by the double action of the rod, to bend the
tip forward and loosen instead of tightening the line.
There are days when fish cannot be struck, although they
are rising freely ; whether they are playing or over-cau-.
tious, I never could determine; whether they are not
hungry or the water is too clear, they put man’s capacities
at defiance. Their appearance must be signalled to the
eye, by that reported to the brain, which then directs the
nerves to command. the muscles to move the wrist; and
ere this complicated performance is completed, the fish
has blown from his mouth the feathery deception and
has darted back to his haunts of safety. <A fish will
occasionally leap up, seize the fly, discover the cheat, and
shaking his head, jump several feet along the surface of
the water to rid his mouth of it, and do this so quickly
as not to give a quick angler time to strike. How often
fish are caught when they rise the second time, as then
the angler is more on the alert, whereas on the first rise
he was off his guard! How often fish rise when the
angler’s head is turned away from his line, or when he is
busy at something elée, and how rarely are they caught!
In my experience it is so great a rarity, that it might
almost be said they never hook themselves. In the lan-
guage of youth, the only hooking they do is to hook off.
Dr. Bethune, page 97, says the rod should not exceed
one pound in weight. Indeed it should not, and if it does,
it exemplifies the old maxim, so far as to have a fool at
one end. If we could fish by steam, a rod exceeding a
pound and measuring over fourteen feet might answer
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 21

well, but in these benighted days, while wrists are made
of bone, muscles, cartilages and the like, the lighter the
better. A rod, and if perfection is absolutely indispens-
able, a cedar rod of eleven or twelve feet, weighing nine
or ten ounces, will catch trout. Cedar rods can only be
obtained in America, and then only on compulsion, but
this wood makes the most elastic rods in the world. They
spring instantly to every motion of the hand, and never
“warp. They are delicate; the wood is, like woman, cross-
grained, but invaluable if carefully treated. The reel
should be a simple click, never a multiplier, but large
barrelled, and fastened to the but with a leather strap.
The line, silk covered with a preparation of oil, tapered
if possible at each end, and thirty to forty yards long.
The basket, positive, a fish-basket ; the angler, compara-
tive, a fisher-man.

Thus equipped, go forth mildly approving where the
writer’s opinions coincide with yours, simply incredulous
where they do not. Ere you begin, however, you may
wish to know the size of the fish you can catch, a matter
of no little intricacy, for though we all know the size of
the fish we have ourselves caught, there is always some
one else that has caught larger. My largest trout, at
the time this is written, was taken on the Marshpee
River, on Cape Cod, and weighed three pounds and
fourteen ounces. But it is said there were inland
brook trout exhibited at the New York Club by a mem-
ber in the year 1857, the two largest of which weighed
cleaned six pounds and a half each. “I have my
doubts.” These fish should have weighed, when first
taken, nearly eight pounds, double the size of any trout,
292 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

other than sea trout, I have ever seen or before that
heard of. In my opinion, they were lake trout, caught,
perhaps, from a small pond, and bright colored. It was
claimed they were taken with the fly, which lake trout
will not ordinarily touch; but, unfortunately, it was
also said, that two weighing about five pounds each
were caught and landed on one cast, and that this was
done twice. Now confidence in our neighbors’ truth
is the framework of society, but there is a limit to
human credulity, and catching two five pound trout at
one cast, is at the very verge of that limit. No one,
except by the most incredible good fortune, could kill
two such fish on any ordinary fly-tackle, with any ordi-
nary fly-rod. The hooks would almost certainly tear
out, and -no strain could possibly be kept on the lower
fish, which, by slacking up his line and then darting
away, would probably go. free. But great luck alone
could enable a person to land two such fish; the lower
one would never drown, being at perfect liberty—by the
by, trout never die in the water, they always save
enough life for one final rush—and when the upper fish
was landed or gaffed, the lower would go off in a jiffy.
When a person claims to do this twice in a day, he must
pe pronounced a lucky man indeed.

We caught our big trout in the Marshpee, and we
will tell you how we did it, though the words make us-
blush as we write them. We were young then, and it
is to be hoped innocent; and having gone to Sandwich,
on Cape Cod, in search of untried fields, discovered a
jolly, corpulent landlord, named Teasedale, who, with
his friend, Johnny Trout, so named jocosely, werz the
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 93

fishermen of the neighborhood. That was before the
stream was preserved for the benefit of the “ Poor
Indian,” and poorer fishermen mulcted, as at present, in
five dollars a day for the privilege of fishing. We drove
to the stream, almost six miles, Teasedale enlivening the
early June morning with snatches of hunting songs, and
when there plunged recklessly in. -Oh! but the water
was cold—a dozen large springs poured in their freezing
contents—and the blood fairly crept back to our hearts.
The stream ran through a narrow defile, overhung with
the thickly tangled vine and creepers, rendering a cast
of the line impossible, and had worked its way far under
the steep banks, making dark watery caverns, where the
great fish could lie in wait for their prey. We removed
the upper joint of our fly-rod, which was heavy and
strong, and leaving the line through the last ring of the
second joint, we put on a bait next to the fly in beauty
and effect, the minnow. The water was freezing cold—
the closely entwined boughs and leaves shut out the heav-
ens above, and we were alone in the shadowy darkness
with the tenants of the deep. The herring frequented
the brook, and pursued by the large trout, darted in
shoals between our feet. It is always a good sign when
the herring are running, and we had excellent luck.
‘There are several ways of putting on a minnow, and
if a person from ignorance or necessity must poach, let
him poach well. There is the gorge-hook loaded with
lead, the snell passed by the. baiting needle at the mouth
of the bait and out at the tail, bringing the hooks which
are double at the mouth. It is highly recommended by
some English books and their American imitators, but
94 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

in my experience is more useful, unbaited, for catching
snapping mackerel, young blue-fish, than for any other
purpose. There are the gangs of hooks, consisting of
two or more small hooks back to back, one of which
is inserted in the side or back of the bait, with another
small one further up on the line, which is inserted on
the lip or nose. It answers well for some kinds of fishing,
and for large bait, but does not work well with small
fish. The bait is not bent sufficiently, and does not spin
readily.

Then there is the old-fashioned large single hook,
thrust through the mouth, down the fleshy part of the
back and out at the side, or out at the gills and back
through the mouth into the side. The objection is that
bait is apt to work down on the bend of the hook, or
the trout is apt to take off the tail of the bait without
being hooked.

The other, and I think the best plan of baiting with
dead bait, is the same as the last, with the addition of a
small hook to thrust through the nose, that tends to
retain the fish in its place, and allow the hook to be ear-
ried down further toward the tail, and still make the bait
spin well. Minnow is never properly baited, unless it
spins freely with every motion of the rod, and it must
ever be kept moving. Of course the line must be armed
with the swivel-trace, and in baiting with dead minnow
a Limerick hook should be used, under any other circum-
stances never.

The dead minnow is preferable for rapid water. In
ponds the minnow should be alive, in which case the
hook is to be inserted in front of the dorsal fin, and the
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 25

point may be left under the skin, or exposed, as the
poacher pleases; I prefer it covered. It should not
penetrate the-flesh.

In the Marshpee I was using a single hook, keeping
the bait well ahead of me, and creeping cautiously in
the freezing water, watching the tiny float as it danced
its merry course along, now borne swiftly over the rip-
pling current, anon caught in an eddy and returning on
its track, and then again resting motionless in some dark
and quiet pool. It was scarcely visible beneath the dense
shadows, and once in a while it would disappear from my
straining sight ; then followed a sharp blow with my rod,
a fierce tug,.a short fight between fear, despair and cun-
ning on the one side, and strength, energy and judgment
on the other. The prey once hooked, and skill there
was not; it was a mere contention of two brute forces,
in which the weaker went to the basket. An exhibition
of skill or tenderness would have resulted in an entangle-
ment round the nearest root, and the loss of fish, leader
and hook. Still, there was excitement; the situation
was romantic, the narrow gorge, the deep and rapid
stream, the closely matted trees and vines, the ever-
changing surface of the current, which adds beauty to
the tamest brook, all combined to lend enchantment
to the scene. The fish were large and vigorous, fresh
run from the sea, where they had, the Winter long,
been a terror to the small fry, and early death to
juicy atid unsuspicious shell-fish. They fought fiercely
for life and liberty, their homes and their household
gods, and, alas! too often successfully. The risk of
their escape added to the interest of the occasion, and

2
26 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

the number of herring darting past gave continual
promise of the presence of their arch enemy, the trout.

T had half-filled my basket, and had met with wonder-
ful escapes and terrible heart-rending losses, mingled
with exhilarating successes. I had made about half the
distance, as well as we judged, and felt proud and happy
as no king upon his throne ever did or will. My rod,
though a fly-rod, was whipped every few inches with silk,
and thus strengthened had stood the unequal conflict
admirably. Still hoping for better things—who will not
hope for the impossible ?—I strode on. Below me the
current made a sudden turn at a bend in the stream, and
eddied swiftly under the overhanging bank. The brook
almost disappeared in what was evidently a vast cavern
deep in the bowels of that bank. In such watery palaces,
amid the worn rocks, the tangled roots, the undulating
moss and weeds, fierce-eyed, monstrous trout delight to
dwell. In such fortresses they await unwary travellers,
and dark deeds are done in the congenial darkness—
outrage, riots and murder stalk boldly about. The
migratory herring, harmless and unsuspicious, peers
in and starts affrighted back, then peers again, at last
ventures forward, and then, compelled by instinct to
ascend, tries to dart hastily by; there is a sudden rush,
a frantic struggle, a piteous look entreating mercy of
pitiless hearts; for an instant the water is dyed with
blood and then flows on, washing all trace of the deed
away. .

I approach the den carefully, the feather-like float
dancing merrily far ahead over the rippling tide, and as
the line is paid out, swaying from side to side, close in
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 27

front of the roots that fringe the bank, still not a sign ;
a step forward—the water carries it under the bank out
of sight. I stand still, expectant ; nothing yet; I creep
cautiously to the very bank, and thrust my rod in the
water, aye, under the bank its full length. What’s that!
Ah! what a tug! I have him, the monster, the Giant
Despair of the wayfaring herring. How he pulls! I
must have him out of his retreat; it is-a great risk but
my only chance. I strain my rod, my line, almost my
arms, to the utmost ; he comes, disdainful of surreptitious
advantages, relying on his great strength; he has not
taken protection of weed or stump. Now, my boy,
do your utmost; yes, leap from the water, dart down
with the current; I must give to you a little; no line
can stand that strain; but you will never reach your
lair again. Turn about, head up stream, that is what I
want; there is a sandy bank above us, can I but reach
it and land you there. Ah! you perceive the danger or
have changed your mind; how you fly down stream
with the slackened line hissing through the water behind
you. Well, go, you will soon turn again. Already,
beautiful, you have passed the bank ; now, rod, be true;
line, do your duty. The pliant ash bends, the upper
joint has passed below the but in a wide hoop. He
comes, his head is up; if I can but keep it out of water !
he dashes the foaming waves with his strong tail; one
more effort; bend rod, but do not break; he is out of
water; Ihave him. He is dancing on the yellow sand
-his last dance in mortal form ; his changing hues glancing
in the mild light, his fierce mouth gasping, his bright
sides befouled with sand and dust, his glittering scales
98 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

torn off by the sharp stones. His efforts grow fainter,
the flashing eye dims, a few convulsive throes and he is
quiet; the grim hand of death has pressed upon him.

He is indeed the prince of monsters, the paragon of
giants ; 80 thick, so deep, with so small a head for so
large a body; such brilliant hues: the fins so red, the
blue and carmine spots so numerous and delicate. I
wash him off and stand gazing at him in my hand
regardless of further sport. I have captured the king,
and care not to follow his subalterns. I lay him gently
in my basket; he will not lie at full length. I cover
him with moss, filling the little room left, and forcing
my way through the overhanging bushes, and, reaching
the broad light of day, proudly await the arrival of my
companion. Then the moss is carefully removed, and
the beauties of my darling are unveiled, and flash and
gleam in the sunlight.

There are several ways of landing a trout, but not all
equally sportsmanlike. Large trout may be gaffed,
small ones landed in a net, and where neither of -these
means is at hand, they must be dragged out of water, or
flirted up among the bushes, according to the taste of
the angler and the strength of his tackle.

A tyro was once fishing on the same boat with me,
using bait, when he struck his first trout. One can
imagine how entirely misspent had been his previous
existence, when it is said he had never taken a trout,
no, nor any other fish before. It was not a large fish;
such luck rarely falls to the share of the beginner, and
in spite of what elderly gentlemen may say to the con-
trary, an ignorant countryman, with his sapling rod
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 99

and coarse tackle, never takes the largest fish nor the
greatest in quantity. Were it otherwise, sportsmen had
better turn louts, and tackle makers take to cutting
straight saplings in the woods. My companion, never-
theless, was not a little surprised at the vigorous rushes
the trout made’to escape, but his line being strong and
rod stiff, he steadily reeled him in. Great was the
excitement ; his whole mind was devoted to shortening
the line, regardless of what was to be done next. We
had a darkey named Joe with us to row the boat and
land the fish, and our luck having been bad during
the morning, he was delighted at this turn of affairs, and
ready, net in hand, to do his duty. The fish was being
reeled up, till but a few feet of the line remained below
the top, when, with a shout of “land, Joe, land him,”
my companion suddenly lifted up his rod, carrying the
trout far above our heads. There it dangled, swaying
to and fro, bouncing and jumping, while the agonized
fisherman besought the darkey to land him, and the
latter, reaching up as far as he could with the net, his
eyes starting out of his head with wonder at this novel
mode of proceeding, came far short of his object. Never
was seen such a sight; the hopeless despair of my friend,
the eagerness of the darkey, who fairly strove to climb
the rod as the fish danced about far out of reach. What
was to done? The line would not render, the rod was
so long we could not reach the tip in the boat; and the
only horrible alternative appeared to be my friend’s
losing his first fish. The latter, however, by this remark-
able course of treatment, had grown peaceable, and
when he was dropped back into the water, made but
30 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

feeble efforts, while my companion, as quietly as he
could, worked out his line till he could land him like a
Christian. Great were the rejoicings when the prize
earned with so much anxiety was secured. That is the
way not to land a trout. .

One afternoon of a very boisterous day, I struck a large
fish at the deep hole in the centre of Phillipse’s Pond, on
Long Island. He came out fiercely, and taking my fly
as he went down, darted at once for the bottom, which is
absolutely covered with long, thick weeds. The moment
he found he was struck, he took refuge among them, and
tangled himself up so effectually that I could not feel
him, and supposed he had escaped. By carefully exert-
ing sufficient force, however, tlie weeds were loosened
from the bottom, and the electric thrill of his renewed
motion was again perceptible. He was allowed to draw
the line through the weeds and play below them, as by
so doing they would give a little, while if confined in
them he would have a leverage against them, and could,
with one vigorous twist, tear out the hook. When he
was somewhat exhausted, the question as to the better
mode of landing him arose. The wind was blowing so
hard as to raise quite a sea, which washed the weeds
before it in spite of any strain that could be exerted by
the rod, and drifted the boat as well, rendering the latter
almost unmanageable, while the fish was still so vigorous
as to threaten at every moment to escape. I besought
the boatman, who was an old hand and thoroughly up
to his business, to drop the boat down to the weeds and
let me try and land my fish with one hand while holding
the rod with the other. He knew the dangers of such a
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 31

course, and insisted upon rowing slowly and carefully
for shore at a shallow place sheltered from the wind,
although I greatly feared the hook would tear out or the
rod snap under the strain of towing both weeds and
fish; once near shore, he deliberately forced an oar into
‘the mud and made the boat fast to it, and then taking
up the net, watched for a favorable chance. He waited
for some time, carefully putting the weeds aside, until a
gleaming line of silver glanced for a moment beneath
the water, when darting the net down,.he as suddenly
brought it up, revealing within its folds the glorious
colors of a splendid trout. That was the way to land a
trout under difficulties, although I still think I could
have done it successfully by myself.

Generally, the utmost delicacy should be shown in
killing a fish, but there are times when force must be
exerted. If the fish is making for a stump, or even
weeds, he must be stopped at any reasonable risk of the
rod’s breaking or the fly’s tearing out. A stump is the
most dangerous; one turn round that, and he is off, leav-
ing your flies fast probably in a most inconvenient place
and many feet below the surface of the water. But:
remember the oft-repeated maxim of a friend of the
writer’s, who has been with him many a joyous fishing-
day, that “One trout hooked is worth a dozen not
hooked.” Small trout are more apt to escape than large
ones, because the skin round the mouth of the latter is
tougher. With either, however, there is risk enough;
the hook is small, and often takes but a slight hold; the
gut is delicate, and frequently half worn through by
continual casting.
39 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

Fish are, in a majority of instances, hooked in the
corner of the upper jaw, where there is but:a thin skin
to hold them ; by long-continued struggle, the hole wears
larger, and finally, to the agony of the fisherman, the
hook slips out.

There are occasions when force must be exerted, and
then good tackle and a well-made rod will repay the cost.
At dusk one night I cautiously approached the edge of a
newly-made pond that was as full of stumps as of fish,
both being about the extreme limit, and casting-into the
clear water, struck a fine fish of three-quarters of a
pound. Not one minute’s grace did he receive, but I
lugged and he fought, and after a general turmoil I suc-
ceeded in bringing him to land, in spite.of weeds and
stumps and twigs, which he did his best to reach. The
same was done with seven fish after a loss of only three
flies, and with a rod that weighed but eight ounces.

A rod is not so apt to break from a fair strain as from
a short twist; of course, if you strike a large fish as you
raise to cast, or catch in the bushes behind you when
your line is extended, any rod may break. This, how-
ever, rarely happens, and you are as likely to break the
tip by trying to pull the line through the rings with your
hand, or by lifting a small trout out of water and swinging
it in past you, as in any other way. In drawing a fish to
shore when you have no landing net, step back and
bring the strain evenly on your rod, and it will rarely give
way. If you find the fish takes down the current and
you are unable to hold him, follow him if you can, and
if not, point your rod toward him and bring the strain on
the line. The hook may tear out, or the gut may break,
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 33

or even the line may be lost, but you will save your rod,
while otherwise you would probably lose both.

In landing a fish, wait till he is pretty well exhausted,
bring his mouth above water and keep it there till he is
drawn into the net, and warn your assistant to remove
the net at once if he gets his head down. By diving
after him with the net, the assistant would certainly not
catch the fish and might tangle one of your other flies.
The fish should be led into the net, and the latter kept
as still as possible ; he knows as well as you do what it is
for, and if his attention is drawn ie it, will dart off as
madly as ever.

There are occasions and situations where a fly cannot
be used, and a minnow—called down East, from the Indian
name mummychog, a mummy—cannot be obtained. In
_ Such cases it becomes necessary to fall back upom first
principles. A grasshopper, twitched along the surface of
the water in a way called skittering, is an effective bait,
although an imitation grasshopper, as well as an imita-
tion minnow, does not answer and will not deceive trout.
Salmon and trout roe are used, and it is said, contrary to
the writer’s experience, with great success. Gentles,
which are grubs hatched in meat that has been fly-
blown, are a favorite bait in Europe; but, in spite of
their beautiful name, are horrible objects and not in
vogue with us. Caddies, or the larvee of the Phry-
ganide in their cases, are also in use there, but not
here. We must, therefore, have recourse to the angle-
worm.

The finest worms are to be found in tanyards; they
should be placed on the top of damp moss, left for a

Q*
84 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

night or two to work themselves clean, and then placed
in other moss sprinkled with milk. They become strong,
light colored and lively, and should be threaded on a fine .
hook by passing the point in at the head of the worm
and out half-way down the side; then in, half up the
side of another, and forced nearly to the head. Worms,
if cast as in fly-fishing, are very. attractive, and will fre-
quently kill an immense number of fish. There is much
skill in casting so as not to tear off the bait, and yet to
cover an extent of water

In rapid streams, whether with bait or fly, always fish
down stream; there is less noise, the line is kept taught,
‘the fly looks more natural, and unless the wind is strong
against you, it will be much easier and pleasanter fish-
ing. Move the bait continually; keep it in motion
ind all circumstances; this is the great secret of bait-
fishing.

I have also heard of shrimp preserved in whisky
being used, and think they might answer for fish that
have just run from the salt water; but as frequent
experiment with the live shrimp has proved their inferi-
ority to minnow, I have little faith in them.

The trout is admitted to be the most beautiful of all our
fish ; not so large nor powerful as the salmon, he is much
more numerous, abounding in all the brooks and rivulets
of our northern States. He lives at our very doors; in
the stream that meanders across yon meadow, where the
haymakers are now busy with their scythes, we have
taken him in our early days; down yonder in that wood,
there is a brook filled with bright, lively little fellows;
and away over there we know of pools where there are
THE AMERICAN TROUT 35

splendid ones. Who has not said or ‘thought such words
as he stood in the bright summer’s day under the grate-
ful shade of the piazza running round the old country
house where he played, a boy?

He does not make the nerves thrill and tingle like the
salmon, he does not leap so madly into the air nor make
such fierce, resolute rushes, he has not the silver sides
nor the great strength; but he is beautiful as the sunset
sky, brave as bravery itself, and is our own home dar-
ling. How he flashes upon the sight as he grasps the
spurious insect, and turns down with a quick little slap
of the tail! How he darts hither and thither when he
finds he is hooked! How persistently he struggles till
enveloped in the net! And then with what heart-rend-
ing sighs he breathes away his life! Who does not love
the lovely trout? With eye as deep and melting, skin
as rich and soft, and ways as wildly willful as angelic
woman—who loves not one loves not the other. Who
would not win the one cares not to win the other.
Strange that man should “kill the thing he loves;” but
if to possess them kills them, he must kill. If women,
like the Ephemera, died as they often do in their love, we
should still love them. Such is man; do not think I
praise him. No one kills fish for the pleasure of killing ;
but they cannot live out of water, nor we in it, therefore
one of us must die. We would willingly save them;
we have tried to bring them home alive, but it is not pos-
sible. They are too delicate. With what a feeling of
affection we look upon a beautiful fish as he lies upon the
anoss, the sunlight sparkling from his colors fading in
death! with how deep a sadness wé see his strength
36 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

ebbing away, his breath growing shorter, his struggles
. fainter! And when he has grown stiff in death, how
proudly sad we feel over a noble career cut short too
soon!

The man who kills to kill, who is not satisfied with
reasonable sport, who slays unfairly or out of season,
who adds one wanton pang, that man receives the con-
tempt of all good sportsmen and deserves the felon’s
doom. Of such there are but few.

We seek this, our favorite fish, in early Spring, when
the ice has just melted, and the cold winds remind one
forcibly of bleak December, and when we find him in
the salt water streams, especially of Long Island and
Cape Cod; but we love most to follow him in the early
Summer, along the merry streams of-old Orange, or the
mountain brooks of Sullivan County. Where the air is
full of gladness, and the trees are heavy with foliage—
where the birds are singing upon eVery bough, and the
grass is redolent of violets and early flowers. There we
wade the cold brooks, the leafy branches bowing us a
welcome as we pass—the water rippling over the hidden
rocks, and telling us, in its wayward way, of the fine fish
it carries in its bosom. With creel upon our shoulder and
rod in hand, we reck not of the hours, and only when
the sinking sun warns of the approaching darkness, do
we seek, with sharpened appetite, the hospitable country
inn, and the comfortable supper that our prey will fur-
nish forth.

The brooks of Long Island, especially on the south-
ern shore, abound with trout. But they are few in com-
parison with the hordes that once swarmed in the
THE AMERICAN TROUT. 37

streams of Sullivan and Orange counties, and in fact all
the lower tier of counties in this State, before the Erie
_Railzoad was built, and opened the land to the crowd of
market men. I am proud to sayI have travelled that
country when it took the stage coach twelve hours to go
twenty-four miles, and when, if we were in a hurry, we
walked, and sent our baggage by the coach. Now you
are jerked along high above our favorite meadows,
directly through our wildest hills, and often under our
best streams, at the rate of forty miles an hour, and yet
people call that an improvement. As well might you
lug a man out of bed at night, drag him a dozen times
round his.room, and fling him back into bed, and say he
was improved by the operation. No one wants to be
lugged out of bed, precisely as no one wanted to travel
beyond Sullivan County ; the best shooting and fishing
in the world was to be found there.

When the railroad was first opened, the country was
literally overrun, and Bashe’s Kill, Pine Kill, the Sand-
berg, the ‘Mon Gaup and Callicoon, and even Beaver
Kill, which we thought were inexhaustible, were fished
out. For many years trout had almost ceased from out
of the waters, but the horrible public, having their
attention drawn to the Adirondacks, gave it a little rest,
and now the fishing is good.

If you go there, stop at George Durrance’s, in Wurts-
borough, and if he boasts of fishing, as he will, ask him
whether he remembers going to the Sandberg one day,
many years ago, to show a Yorker how to catch trout. ©

It was a bright sunshiny day, and as we drove up to the
edge of the bank, above a clear, rapid, sparkling stream, I
88 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

saw a large trout leap heavily out of water, where the cur-
rent swept with a swirl past a high rock. AsI rigged up
my flies, George borrowed my knife to cut a pole, as he did
not have much faith in “them things,” and while he was _
gone, I crept cautiously up behind the rock, and cast
over the further projecting point. I could not see my
flies alight, but heard a splash, and striking felt I had a
splendid fish. He fought bravely, but by keeping him
in the upper part of the pool, the lower end by the rock,
was not disturbed. After some trouble, I landed him,
having no net. Then approaching the rock with the
same caution, the performance was repeated, only this
time my rod was broken in endeavoring to land the fish,
and it was necessary to find George and obtain my
knife.

I discovered him under the bushes on the bank, in a
miserable state—it was oppressively hot—his rod was a
long sapling, and naturally heavy—the sky and water
were clear, and the fish would not touch the worm,
which we could see from where he sat. He had only
taken two miserable little fish, He did no better all
day, and while I rose and killed fish after fish, he did
not take another one. When afternoon came, and he
impatiently urged me away, my basket was so full it
broke down, and he had his two fish. On reaching his
house, the boys spread our respective takes out on a
board, and to George’s deep chagrin exhibited them to
the entire village. He has not taught a “Yorker” how
to catch trout since.

So much for your countryman, with his bed-cord for
line and stick for pole, and yet George was admitted to
THE AMERICAN’ TROUT. 39

be the best fisherman in that neighborhood. A person
residing near a stream, and having fished it from infancy,
and acquainted with its every pool, has an immense
advantage over a stranger; but there was only one coun-
tryman ever beat me trout-fishing, and he, after taking
me to the stream, slipped off and waded it down ahead
of me.

All the streams that, taking their rise in or near this
State, flow into the Delaware or Susquehanna, are filled
with trout; the Tobyhanna, the Bushkill, Broadhead’s
Creek and a thousand others, that the Erie and Lacka-
wanna railroads now make easy of access. While Hamil-
ton County, Essex, the region of the Adirondacks, Clinton
County with its Ohateaugay and Chazy Lakes, and the
Saranac River, and Franklin County with its innumera-
ble ponds, offer all the sport that the heart of man can
desire. All the streams of New England, especially in
the neighborhood of the White Mountains, are filled
with small trout; while the State of Maine, in Moose-
head Lake, the Kennebec, and its other fine rivers and
lakes, affords the finest brook trout-fishing in the world.

The angler may, therefore, seek his darling close to
his own summer-house, or may drop in at any of the
many well kept taverns on the south side of Long
Island, where he will find every.comfort and most of
the luxuries of the day, will meet other enthusiastic
fishermen, who will relate varied and interesting expe-
riences, and exchange views and fancies with him,
and will prove themselves, if real fishermen, the most
obliging and unselfish gentlemen in the world; or he
may seek the lonely hotel at Lake Pleasant or Moose-
40 THE AMERICAN TROUT.

head Lake, where he will still find comfort in a rougher
way, and wonderful good sport; or he may boldly strike
out into the trackless woods, commit himself to his birch
canoe and trusty guide, and then, if he be made of the
right stuff, I promise him such happiness as he will never
forget-—merry innocent days and dreamless nights,
health in every limb, and contentment in his mind.

There is no fish more difficult to catch, nor that gives
the true angler more genuine sport than the trout. His
capture requires the nicest tackle, the greatest skill, the
most complete self-command, the highest qualities of
mind and body. The arm must be strong that wields
the rod; the eye true that sees the rise; the wrist quick
that strikes at the instant; the judgment good, that selects
the best spot, the most suitable fly, and knows just how
to kill the fish. A fine temper is required to bear up
against the loss of a noble fish, and patient perseverance
to conquer ill luck.

Hence it is that the fisherman is so proud of his basket
of a dozen half-pound trout, he feels that an'y one more
awkward: or less resolute could not have done: so well.
He feels conscious that he does not owe his success to
mere luck, but has deserved the glory. He feels that
he has elevated himself by the very effort. Do not sup-
pose I mean that there is no skill in other fishing;
there is in all, even in catching a minnow for bait, but
nost of all in trout-fishing.
SEA TROUT. 41

CHAPTER III.

SEA TROUT.

_ Salmo Trutta Marina—Salmon Trout— White Trout.

This fish corresponds precisely with the description
given by Dr. De Kay of the Speckled Trout, Salmo Fon-
tinalis, except in the following particulars:

I can find no teeth in the vomer or central part of the
roof of the mouth any more than I can find them on the
common brook trout, and I have examined great numbers
of the latter for the purpose. The pectorals are nearly a
transparent white, slightly tinged with red at the origin
of the rays, except that the second ray is darkish. The
first ray of the ventrals is yellow, the second dark, the
third and the others orange fading into white; the origin
of the ventrals is directly under that of the first dorsal.
The first ray of the anal fin is orange, the second and
others dark green, growing lighter toward the tail, the
origin of the second and third rays being yellowish.
The scales are very small, imbedded in the skin, and
there are neither scales nor defined spots on the gill-
covers. The fin-rays are as follows:

Be19 3D. 18 BP. 1383 Vo Ss As 105 0.198.

The branchial rays seem to differ sometimes, the same
fish having eleven on one side and twelve on the other,
and the highest one is a half ray or small plate. The
49 SEA TROUT.
&

anal, properly speaking, has eleven rays, but the first is

so delicate and so lost in the fleshy part of the fin, that-

it is hardly distinguishable.

The eoloring of these fish differs greatly from that of
the common trout, but it is universally conceded that
color is no test or distinction of species. When fresh
run from the sea, and when still inhabiting the salt
water, they are gloriously brilliant ; their backs a liquid
bluish green, the under part aching like molten silver.
The spots and scarlet specks on their sparkling sides are
of a purer tone, and the lower fins more slender and
delicate.

They are found in the bays of Prince Edward’s Island,
in the harbors of New Brunswick, and in all the gulf
and river of St. Lawrence and its lower tributaries. In
Frank Forrester’s “Fish and Fishing,” a letter from Mr.
Perley, the British Commissioner of Fisheries, is quoted,
page 123, in which he says these fish do not ascend into
purely fresh water. In this I am reluctantly, out of
respect to his great experience as a fisherman and high
standing in scientific attainments, compelled to differ
from him. I have unquestionably taken these fish far

‘ above tide water, and have the best: authority for saying
that usually, if not invariably, the larger trout at least
ascend to the head-waters of the mountain streams to
spawn. I venture to say that no large sea trout are
ane in the tide water after the last, and rarely after
the first of’August. It is probable that he has been
misled by the fact that there are trout in the same
streams that never descend to the sea, and there is a
marked difference in color between them and their
SEA TROUT. 43

brethren, although I believe they are the same fish. For
the correctness of these views, reference can be made to
the experience of many authorities that would be satis-
factory to one that I esteem and respect as much as I
do my excellent friend and brother of the angle, Mr.
Perley. While mentioning his name, it will not be
amiss to tender him, in the name of the fishermen of the
United States, our thanks and grateful acknowledgments
for the invariable kindness, courtesy and good humor
with which he has answered the numerous questions
entailed upon him by his mention in Frank Forrester’s
“Fish and Fishing,” and the valuable aid and advice he
has furnished the wanderers from the States in their
search for piscatorial happiness. Combining as he does
the heartiness of an Englishman with the sociability of
our own country, we are proud to claim him, while
he remains in our vicinity, as half an American. But
let me, at the same time, suggest to my countrymen,
that there is a limit even to the best of tempers, and
that, although each one may only put a few questions
and take up a little valuable time, the total combined
may be annoying, inconvenient, and even excessively
burdensome.

In addition to the positive fact of taking sea trout
above tide water, it is to be remarked as a habit of all
trout to ascend in summer to the cool sources of the
springy brooks, and our common trout will invariably
be found, after the warm weather is at its height, either
in the rivulets that feed the ponds-where they dwell in
winter, or at the head-waters of the ponds. The sun’s
rays are so powerful that they affect any sheet of open
44 SEA TROUT:

vater, especially the harbors and bays of the ocean, and
the fish will not live there, but withdraw to cooler
regions. A remarkable case of this kind fell under the
writer’s observation at Masapequa Pond, which is uni-
versally admitted to be the best preserve on Long Island.
It is rather small, and quite shallow except in the chan-
nel, and being entirely unsheltered, is liable to become
heated in hot weather. The spring bad been remark-
ably mild, and in the middle of May, after a number of
days that reminded one of June, I visited Masapequa,
and, although the weather was favorable and a lively
ripple darkened the water, only two trout were killed
in the entire morning. I was much discouraged and
surprised, until happening to get my flies caught, I put
my hand into the water and found it milk-warm. The
explanation was simple, and I at once told the proprietor,
who had been more astounded than myself, that the fish
had run out of the pond into the brook; and there, sure
enough, we shortly discovered them lying in the deep
pools in shoals. -

If they cannot retire to cool, fresh, aérated water, they
will perish, as happened one dry, warm season in a pond
at Oyster Bay, which, although well filled with trout,
had no extensive head-waters. The fish crowded round
the flume, hardly disturbed by being touched with a
stick, remaining motionless, and evidently suffering.
They died and were picked up by scores.

If sea trout do not ascend the fresh streams, where do
they spawn? From the habits of all the salmon tribe,
we know they must have a current of pure and cool
water to vivify the eggs, and they certainly cannot find
SEA TROUT, 45

this along the shores and pays. Their eggs must be
deposited on a gravelly bed and not on sand, and as the
bottom of the salt water, which is purely sand, even if
appropriate spawning ground, is peopled with all sorts,
shapes and sizes of creeping, crawling and burrowing
things, from sand-worms to sea-eggs, the spawn would
be utterly destroyed long before it could come to ma-
turity. If, in spite of all these difficulties, the eggs
should hatch, the young fry being entirely helpless for
thirty days, and little able to take care of themselves
afterward, would be annihilated by their elder brethren
or the first sea fish that came along. Young trout, in
their appropriate localities, hide carefully in little spring
rills and close along shore for months after they are
hatched, and not till well grown and active do they
trust themselves in the deeper places among the larger
fish. Nature has taught them that the latter have an
excessive fondness for them.

Whether sea trout spawn earlier than brook trout, 1
do not know, but very possibly they may, as in cooler
countries figh usually spawn earlier than in warmer ones.
However, in August the roe is not, developed to any
great extent ; no more so, apparently, than with us, and,
although the Canadian Winter sets in earlier than ours,
trout do not fear the cold. The regions they inhabit
being extremely difficult of access in the freezing season,
this question may remain some time unsolved.

Whether sea trout should be ranked as a distinct
species, or whether there are any different species of
trout in America, has been a serious question. It is a
great misfortune that every naturalist, in his eager
46 SEA TROUT.

endeavor to discover new species and originate new
names, has caught at the slightest distinctions in appear-
ance, which are often only due to food or water, and has
immediately dubbed the fish a knight and endowed him
with a new name—frequently some horrible Latin per-
version of his own. Real distinctions are those. perma-
nent ones that no change of food and water can affect,
nor the chance influence of a few shell-fish or a muddy
bottom. There are distinctions between these trout and
brook trout, of color, comparative size of different parts
of the body, formation of the head and fins; but not
more so than one often meets with in fishing any of the
streams of Long Island that communicate with the sea,
or even in the different streams of the wild woods. The
sea trout of Canada certainly do far excel the ordinary
trout in size, being taken, with the fly, weighing nine
pounds, and the ordinary average being from three to
four; but otherwise they seem to have no permanent
peculiarity that should distinguish them from the com-
mon brook trout. All other distinctions fade after the
trout have been for some time in fresh water, and a late
run of sea trout differs far more from those which have
ascended the streams a month earlier than the latter
from the brook trout. Indeed, some sea trout have
become domesticated in the fresh water, and never
returning to the sea, have settled down, although often
of great size, into the ordinary trout.

In Stump Pond, on Long Island, and the adjacent
waters, are four different varieties of trout: the old-
fashioned Stump Pond Trout, with a black mouth, a
long, thin body, a big head, and a wolfish, hungry
SEA TROUT. AT

look; the Salt Water Trout, with a small, sleepy head,

a deep body, and a rich coloring, small fins and red -
flesh ; the Brook Trout, long, narrow, brightly marked,

gracefully shaped and lively; and a trout which has

appeared in a new pond, scarcely yet completed, with a

dark, strong coloring, very black on the back, a thick,

stout body, and a well proportioned head. Any one can

distinguish these fish at a glance, but must they each

have a different name, and a Latin one at that?

The fresh run sea trout of the North have beautiful
silver sides, almost as bright as a salmon’s, and in this
particular, at least, differ from the salt water loving
trout of Long Island and Cape Cod. Their heads are
small, delicate, and exquisitely shaped, and their lower
fins are small and almost transparent. The heads of the
males are larger, and the lower jaw more hooked than
.. those of the female, and these differences increase as the
spawning season advances. The head of the female
bears a comparison to that of a modest, refined lady,
while that of the male resembles the big head and ugly
jaw of the struggling, quarrelling, but protecting man.
At times their flesh is a bright red, often a dull yellow,
and rarely whitish. The shape of their bodies is grace-
ful and broad across the back, to a greater degree in
both particulars than the sea run trout of Long Island
and Massachusetts. But as they ascend the rivers, and
after they have been some time in their new abode, these
peculiarities diminish, the color of their backs turns from
a beautiful green to a dull black, the splendor of their
silvery sides fades, and the heavy spots and roseate tinge
appear; their translucent fins grow opaque and strong
48 SEA TROUT.

from greater use in the swift current; their shape even
seems to alter, and they are altogether unlovely by com-
parison with their former selves. Are they, therefore,
“like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once,” and entitled
to three distinct appellations, or are they simply our
dearly loved old friends, the Speckled Trout ?

The change in appearance of these fish cannot be
refuted by the suggestion that the ordinary brook trout
ascend the rivers and mingle with those of the sea, be-
cause the latter are to be caught in every stage, from the
brilliancy of the fresh river fish to the dull colors of the
oldest inhabitant. And it will be noticed that at the
heads of the rivers a bright-colored fish is rarely met with,
although they must be, with few exceptions, all sea trout.

The best trout rivers of Canada are troublesome to reach,
difficult to ascend, and seldom attempted by any but the
salmon fisher. To the latter, the trout, attractive as he.
seems to us, is atrialand anuisance. Abundant and vora-
cious, he often rushes in advance of the lordly salmon, seizes
the fly, and then discovering his mistake, by his struggles
disturbs the pool, ruffles the fisherman’s temper, and
frightens the larger game from its equanimity. He is
therefore little noticed by the frequenters of the head-
waters, except to be denounced, and his delicate peculi-
arities seldom considered and less esteemed. He is princi-
pally sought in the tide water along the shores, or from
boats in the open bays, but rarely followed to his summer
home. The statements, therefore, of Canadian fishermen
with regard to him must be cautiously received and care-
fully weighed; their experience may not have been suf-
ciently extended. az
SEA TROUT. 49

Whatever be his name, hé is a beauty; the fairest of
the children of the sea. There are others of more varie-
gated colors, of gaudier hues, of more slender shape, but
the trout is lord of all. He is the pet of the true fisher-
man, whether taken by the name of Salmo trutta in the
bays of Canada, weighing fifteen pounds, or as Salmo
JSontimalis, in the mountain streams of Vermont, reach-
ing not one .quarter as many ounces. In Canada,
sportsmen—and none others seem to fish—take the sea
trout solely with the fly. In June, and earlier, they are
found in the tide waters, and there prefer gaudy flies.
The scarlet ibis, or curry-curry of South America, dressed
as it is ordinarily done, or diversified by a little gold or
silver tinsel wound round the body, or indeed the entire
hook wound with tinsel alone, is by many: preferred to
all other flies; but the red hackle, the golden pheasant,
the professor, the grey drake, and in fact any gay fly,
will meet with approval. A much admired fly is made
of a red body and yellow wings; but the more sober
colors must not be forgotten nor neglected, they are
often more successful than their gaudy relations. As
the season advances, and the fish ascend the clear, cool
rivers, especially if the water be low and the weather
dry, the sober flies are preferable. Then the cow-dung,
the alder-fly, the turkey-brown, the winged black hackle,
and in fact all the ordinary flies, are in demand; a fly
invented by myself, of a blackbird’s wing and a claret
body and legs, and called the early fly, has often proved
itself uncommonly killing; and indeed all the flies usu-
ally employed in other waters are appropriate for the sea

trout in Canada.
3
50 SEA TROUT.

Neither does the size of hook differ from that ordi
narily in use; it should average about a number nine,
with a few somewhat larger for rough water. It is
‘rarely desirable, on account of the enormous size of the
fish, to use more than one fly at a time, and generally
the trout will soon remove the difficulty by reducing
them to that number; but at times, when fish are shy,
they seem to be attracted by seeing several. In order to
kill the largest possible quantity, without any regard to
humanity or sportsmanship, a heavy fly-rod is desirable,
as much time is lost in landing them with a delicate
rod.

For many hundred miles below Quebec, the majestic
St. Lawrence rolls its transparent waters in a steady
surge toward the ocean. Forward and backward heaves
the mighty tide, piling up the waters eighteen and
twenty feet; but the steady current keeps on its course
toward the gulf. Into this wonderful stream, that can
only be likened to an arm of the sea, at every few miles
debouches from the granite hills a river, more or less
extensive gnd more or less rocky and turbulent. These
rivers rise on the mountain tops, cold and clear, and
thunder down over falls and rapids, through chasms and
gorges split in the eternal rock, till they leap, tumble or
crawl into that outlet of a thousand lakes, the highway
of the Canadas.

These streams the salmon and trout ascend, there to
disport themselves, there to make love, prepare their
nests, and perpetuate their species. The water is cool,
running from the frigid regions of the north or supplied
by icy springs, and the bottom offers every variety of
SEA TROUT. 51

spawning beds. There is the stony pool for the salmon,
the pebbly one for the trout, and never do the two
spawn, and rarely even live, in the same. The pool
where the salmon lie is deep and rapid, with a bottom
composed of dark limestones averaging about the size of
a bantam’s egg. While the trout hide in a sluggish pool,
and often one worn away by the water and hollowed
from a clay bank. It is a tradition, but one by no means
well substantiated, that trout never eat young salmon,
nor salmon young trout. As trout are more fond of their
own species than almost any other delicacy, it is not
probable they would be fastidious about swallowing a
nice, juicy little salmon.

The country through which these streams run is very
peculiar: rough hills of granite rise almost perpendicu-
larly from the edge of the water, many hundred and
sometimes many thousand feet. Their sides are bare
and bleak, and if adorned at all with verdure, it is with
a stunted pine and spruce, that only half hides the white
rock beneath. The streams wind in tortuous course
among the crags, and slowly gain a high elevation.
These bare, unprofitable hills extend back from the north
shore of the St. Lawrence as far as the foot of man has
penetrated, and only at long intervals by the shore of
some of the larger rivers, where forty centuries of storms
have worn away and washed the detritus from the moun-
tain into some little bay, have half civilized beings been
enabled to build rough cabins and glean a scanty sub-
sistence. Thus are these waters, the home and nursery
of the trout and salmon, protected forever by nature
against the pervading destructivenessof man. Judicious
52 SEA TROUT.

laws have been passed and will be enforced by the Cana-
dian government, and the American fisherman may
find in neighboring waters what he will never again see
in his own, these noble fish dwelling in abundance, and
protected from worthless, wanton and unreasonable
destruction.

It is a burning shame, a foul blot on the character of
Americans, and tarnish on their repntation 1or far-sighted
economy, that their only idea of the treatment of the
wild game of the woods and waters seems to be total
annihilation. “ After me a desert,” is their motto; and
they never rest till, by planting snares and liming
streams, they have caught the last partridge and poi-
soned the last fish. Thus have they already destroyed
one of the most valuable resources of the country; the
Hudson, the Connecticut, the Penobscot, and even the
Kennebec, yield no more salmon, and we yearly pay to
Canada enormous sums for what we once had, and might
still have, in plenty on our own shores. Not many
years ago a person buying shad on the Connecticut
River was required to take such a proportion of salmon.
Now that the head-waters are covered with tanneries and
saw-mills, and are crossed by dams without the simple
expedient of a flume that the fish could ascend, and now
that early salmon are worth a dollar a pound in New
York market, where are the former denizens of the Con-
necticut ? .

All the timber cut on the streams would not pay for
the damage done to the fisheries. In Canada the people
have discovered, fortunately for them not too late, the
importance of stringent protective laws. The nets can
SEA TROUT. 53

only be set within a certain distance, and cannot extend
across the entire stream. In Lower Canada the net fish-
ing terminates on the first day of August, and the rod
fishing on the ‘fifteenth of September, and spearing, the
most cruel, unprofitable and injurious mode of destruc-
tion, is forbidden altogether. -

About one hundred and twenty miles below Quebec
the wondrous Saguenay pours its dark waters and
fierce current into the placid bosom of the St. Lawrence.
It is one of the natural wonders of our still new and
scarcely explored country. Hills rise a thousand feet
sheer up, and its waters descend a thousand feet deep
at their base. The St. Lawrence, at its mouth, is
only some thirty feet deep, but the bottom suddenly
descends at the entrance to the Saguenay, and becomes
from five hundred to a thousand feet in depth. The
breadth of the Saguenay is so great that the grandeur
of the mountains is lost to the eye, and the scenery is
remarkable more for ruggedness than beauty. At the
tmouth of this river was the first station of the Hudson
Bay Company, a little village called Tadousae, which is
pronounced with the emphasis on the last syllable, and in
that village stands the mission chureh of the Jesuits, the
oldest in the country

Close to Tadousac, and almost adjoining at the back,
is a still smaller village called L’Anse 4 V’Eau, and
although great ships no longer lie at Tadousac, and the
houses are fast falling to decay, and the good men of the
olden days have long gone their last journey, and the trap-
pers are never more seen around the famous station, and
the glory of the Hudson Bay Company has departed,
54 SEA TROUT.

the trout and salmon coast along the rocks and visit the
inlets as they did when priests promenaded the natural
terraces of Tadousac, and when the shortest road to the
Northwest was up the Saguenay River. The trout care
not though the iron horse has sprung two great leaps
across the water that they live in, and know not that a
woman, the only Catholic that can read, officiates as
high priest in the sanctum of the woman-haters, the
mission church of the Jesuits.

The St. Lawrence abounds with most delicious food
for trout; there are acres of small fish; the sand eels
crowd the bays yards deep, the sardines, the mullet, the
capelin, the tommy cods, push and jostle their way
along, while shellfish innumerable cover the sandy bot-
tom. Flies swarm on the water, and the deep rivers in
Winter and the cool streams in Summer constitute the
paradise of the salmonida.

Along the shores of the tide water, early in Spring the
trout and salmon make their appearance, and wandering
about pass the merry days of May, June and July in
feasting and junketing, in visiting new scenes and tast-
ing every variety of food, till instinct warns them the
waters are falling, and they must hasten to their syl-
van bowers and enjoy the pleasures of love and paternity.
Then slowly, the largest first, they leave the tide waters
and swarm up all the practicable streams, running the
rapids and steadily advancing to their pebbly spawning
beds, which kind nature appears to have prepared in the
heart of these impassable mountains for their especial
protection. Through all this season, June, July and Au-
gust, the fishing is magnificent; they are in great
SEA TROUT. 5S

numbers, and of immense size; but after they have
once left the salt water, the angler must accompany
them in their ascent if he would continue his sport, and
by day struggle in his canoe against the rapids, up which
he hears them darting at night. —

While the fish are still in tide water, and the fisher-
man is fishing from the rocks, the head of some bay
into which flows a stream of fresh water, and the time
of the lower half of the tide, are both desirable. The
former as furnishing a variety of food, and the latter as
contracting the fishing ground. The eddies of a swift
current, and the hollows of a rocky bottom are both
affected by the fish; although they are often found
along a smooth sandy shore, chasing the minnows, and
now and then dashing at a fly or sand-hopper thrown
off the land. It is nothing unusual to capture a hun-
dred fish in as few hours as it will require -to land them,
and often the only limit to the number will be the
sportsman’s humanity. They are a difficult fish to pre-
serve; it seems sacrilegious to salt them; they are not
good pickled in brine, and smoking is both. injurious
and troublesome. The fisherman, if he would not have
them rot before his eyes, must put a bridle on his eager-
ness.

They run very large, sometimes above a dozen ‘pounds,
are often taken of five and six, and frequently a whole
-day’s catch will average three pounds. They are found
at the mouth and along the shore of every river that
empties into the lower part of the St. Lawrence. They
ascend the Saguenay, and are taken at and near its
mouth in great numbers, and in fact everywhere in the
56 SEA TROUT.

lower St. Lawrence and all its tributaries they abound.
It would be more difficult to tell where not to find them
than where to find them. But the best trout-fishing sea
son is later, when they have followed the salmon and
retired to the upper waters of the mountain streams,
where they lie together in shoals, in the deep pools.
Then they may be traced by the wake their motion
leaves in the water; then may the fisherman, casting a
long line and careful fly, pick the finest and go on fish-
ing till heart and soul are satisfied. There, amid the
wild scenery, at the foot of the granite hills, by the
shade of the stunted spruce, he may take his stand upon
some point of rocks, near to a black pool, and deftly
wielding the slender rod, may bring to the net one after
another of the mighty denizens of the water. But even
then, if he would take the mightiest he must prove him-
self a sportsman by keeping out of sight and casting far
and straight. And when his sport is terminated by the
declining day, or his ample satisfaction, and he meets
his companions round the camp-fire, over a well cooked
supper improved by a vigorous appetite, he will exchange
experiences of the habits of fish or the arcana of the
angler’s art.

If, however, he loves the “wet sheet and the flowing
sea,” a nautical anomaly, by the way, he may pursue
his prey in the open bays, and with a smart breeze and
long line, and gaudy fly dancing from wave to wave,
have great sport. Under these circumstances the fish
are almost uncontrollable and must be often followed
with the boat for a long way before they can be killed.
It is gloriously exciting, the bright waters sparkling with

.
SEA TROUT. 57

foam, the light boat leaping over the billows, the sky
magnificent in its depth of blue, the fresh breeze cool
and strong ; and the fish just hooked, furious, vigorous
and courageous, rushing hither and thither, plunging to
the bottom or springing high out of water. Then the
exciting chase as he takes off fortunately down wind,
and exhausts all but the few last turns of line on the reel
till it becomes a question of speed between him and the
boat, and at last his final surrender and capture. Truly
is it magnificent.

Riviére du Loup, a little Canadian village situated
on the St. Lawrence, opposite the mouth of the Sague-
nay, is now connected with Quebec by railroad, and
is only a day and a half distant from New York. It
affords good accommodations, but there is no place any-
where on the Saguenay or at its mouth where the tray-
eller can stop. The Canadians, although generally will-
ing to offer such accommodation as they possess, are too
dirty in their habits, and often too much beloved of
creeping things to suit American taste. So that as there
is little or no trout fishing at Riviére du Loup, the
angler must make his arrangements for a camp-life, and
would do well to descend the St. Lawrence in a pilot
boat, which he can hire with a man and boy for two
dollars a day, and stop at the mouths of all the streams
that debouche into it. The river is over twenty miles
wide, and he must look out for storms, as these boats:
are open and by no means good sea boats. At night he
can go ashore, build a fire, put up his tent, and call into
requisition the numerous luxuries this mode of travelling
will enable him to carry.

3*
58 SEA ‘TROUT.

A steamboat ascends the Saguenay twice a week, and
he can either take it at Quebec or join it at Riviére du
Loup, and by this means enjoy a trip through the bold
scenery of that celebrated river, and can either return to
Riviére du Loup, or take a pilot boat at L’Anse 4 )’Eau.
There is a generous-hearted Englishman living at L’Anse
4 Eau, but he has been compelled to refuse admission to
all strangers, as any infraction of that rule would have
led to his being overrun.

Many of the streams of Lower Canada are leased to
private individuals, and there are few good accessible
salmon streams open to the public, but the sea trout fish-
ing along the St. Lawrence and at the mouths of most
of the streams is free to all. In Nova Scotia and New
Brunswick, and at Prince Edward’s Island, there is as
yet no restriction, and both salmon and trout are the-
property of him who can catch them. Nowhere, how-
ever, can any salmon: fishing or good trout fishing be
had except by camping out. Canadian canoemen can
be obtained, if. not required to furnish canoes, for sixty
cents a day, although the Indians, who are far superior,
command over a dollar, and where the angler is unac-
quainted with the water he is to fish, he had better take
the latter. They are, however, willful and exacting,
and sometimes stubborn and troublesome, while the
former are the best-natured fellows in the world, full of
fun, song and frolic, but often too fond of the liquor
case. .

The best river of Lower Canada is the Mingan, but if
it is not already leased it soon will be. It can be reached
by steamer that leaves Quebec semi-weekly, stopping at
SEA TROUT. 59

Gaspi, at Bathurst on the Bay de Chaleurs, which is near
Nipisiquit, the best river of New Brunswick, at several
places along the route, and finally at Shediac, whence
there is a communication with St. John or Halifax.
The steamer running at the time this is written is the
Arabian, and leaves Quebec every alternate Monday.
The Nipisiquit is within a few miles of Bathurst, where
there is good accommodation, and boatmen can be
obtained without difficulty, or the fisherman may con-
tinue his travels to Dalhousie, at the mouth of the Resti-
gouche, and try either that or the Matapediac. Another
mode of reaching the fishing grounds, is to go to St.
John, and thence by steamboat to Fredericton, and
eross over by land to the Miramichi, at Boiestown, where
there is excellent trout and fair salmon fishing. A list
of the distances from Quebec, together with further
instructions, is given under the head of salmon fishing,
as the rivers we have mentioned are properly salmon
rivers.

The sea trout fishing is so fine, that many persons
prefer it to taking the larger salmon, and can be indulged
in almost anywhere along the shores of New Brunswick,
Nova Scotia, Prince Edward’s Island, Newfoundland
and Lower Canada; and were it not for the heavy fogs,
the Bay of St. Lawrence would be a favorite resort of
our adventurous yachtsmen. The Galway line of ocean
steamers now touches at Newfoundland, whose waters
abound with the finest fish.

The sea trout ascend to the head-waters of the -Mira-
michi quite early, so that. there are none of large size
to be caught in the lower section by the middle of
60 SEA TROUT.

July. In that river they average from two’ to five
pounds’ weight. But the Tabasintac, a stream half-way
between Chatham and Bathurst, is the most famous
sea trout river of New Brunswick. Ido not know of
any sea trout along the southern shore of New Bruns-
wick.
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 61

CHAPTER IY.

A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

A BEAUTIFUL breeze was blowing down between the
grand old hills of the majestic Saguenay on that first
day of August when Walton and myself started from
L’ Anse 4 ?Eau in one of the oddly-shaped pilot-boats of
the St. Lawrence, for a-visit to the Bon Homme la
Val. The Bon Homme la Val, a beautiful and roman-
tic stream that falls into the St. Lawrence about sixty
milés below the Saguenay, tradition asserts was named
by the pious Canadians in the early days of the country
after a beloved father confessor. But time and the
English, equally utilitarian, have contracted it into sim-
ply La Val, and the origin of the name, together with
the piety that suggested it, is almost forgotten by the
present generation. The sun was shining brilliantly, and
the strong northwest wind curled the waves of the
ancient river, and crested them with foam; the dark
waters surged in their falling tide; the stunted trees
shivered in the blast; while the granite hills were as
immovable as they had been mid storm and calm for
many thousand years; but the pretty little village was
all astir with our departure.

Tt is a fanciful place, with the white houses
perched in a nook between the whiter rocks, while the
62 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

graceful roofs and white-washed walls shining in the
sunlight, produces a picturesque effect. The few English
families residing there, and their many friends on visit to
them, made an agreeable society, drawn closer together
by its seclusion from the world at large; and bright eyes
looked brighter when there were none others by.

The world of L’Anse 4 ?Eau was collected on the
wharf to witness our departure—the Canadians because
they had no better employment, the English that they
might bid us adieu. Our pilot-boat, called by the Cana-
dians chaloupe, an open boat séme five-and-twenty feet
long by seven wide, was crammed full of our numerous
traps, plunder or baggage, as it would be variously
styled in different parts “of our land of freedom. The
fishing rods, and one gun, devoted to the destruction of
bears for lack of smaller game, were carefully stowed;
small barrels, at present filled with meat, but destined to
return filled with fish, lay side by side with baskets full
of more delicate provender ; tents, bedding and innumer-
able other articles occupied every inch of room. We
were experienced in woodsman life, and had no-idea of
suffering the want of luxuries that could be easily car-
ried with us, and would never trouble us on our
return, unless they did it in spite of our teeth. There
were preserved soups, meats and fruits, sauces of many
kinds, tea and coffee, the latter ground and in bottles of
essence; there were brown, white and maple sugars,
concentrated milk, flour, indian and oatmeal, barley, rice
and potatoes; liquors of many kinds, and other things
too numerous to mention. For our protection from the
weather, we had two tents and waterproof cloth suffi-
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 63

cient for a make-shift, two indian-rubber blankets apiece,
one coated on the side the other in the middle, water-
proof suits, plenty of blankets, flannels, and warm
clothes ; and such other things as a gentleman ordinarily
carries on a journey. As a defence against the mosqui-
toes, black flies, sand flies, and other like torments of
Satan’s invention, there were veils, the oil of tar, and a
mixture of glycerine, turpentine and spearmint. Above
our treasures were carefully stowed our two canoes,
bottom upmost. In a heavy sea they cannot be towed,
as they are apt to fill and tear to pieces.

Few persons know how beautiful and delicate a canoe
is. It is manufactured only by the Indian; in that the
white man has never equalled him. The best is: made
from a piece of white birch bark, stripped from the tree
in springtime, damped, and after being cut away to the
requisite extent, molded into the proper shape. The
inside is covered with gum, and a thinner piece of bark
fitted upon it, so that though the outer bark be torn, it
still does not leak. Over this are passed thin strips of
red cedar, lengthwise of the canoe, and crossing them at
every inch are ribs of the same wood. The gunwale is
formed of a stout stick of hickory or ash, laced to the
sides, and four strong but slender thwarts bind the whole~
firmly together, and serve for seats or supports. Inferior
articles are made of but one thickness and of poorer
bark. The shape differs according as they are manufac-
tured by the Mountaineers or Micmacs, the two tribes of
this region, the former building a long, narrow and
graceful boat, easily capsized even for a canoe, and well
suited for travel in smooth water; while the latter build

4
64 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

a broader and flatter boat, drawing little water and bet.
ter suited for shoals and rapids. They are mostly
manufactured on the south side of the St. Lawrence,
birch-trees of the requisite size having almost disappeared
from the north shore. The bark is composed of innu-
merable layers, and is the only known substance that
would stand the rough contact with rocks that canoes
experience. A volume could be written on the wondrous
qualities of birch bark, the woodsman’s invaluable trea-
sure; to him it is a boat, a tent, a table, a plate, a cup, a’
basket, a pail, a basin, a frying-pan, a tea-kettle, a candle,
a flambeau, a cooking oven, writing paper, kindling
wood, and almost all the other conveniences or necessa-
ries of life.

The chaloupe being loaded, a long farewell shouted
loudly that our spirits might not fail, and we turned our
backs on L’Anse a )’Eau, the pretty bay at the water-
side. The jib was set, and the grande voile, or foresail,
together with the tapecu, or jigger, while the mainsail,
called by the Canadians mizzin—for we were a three-
masted schooner—was brailed up, not only to give us
more room, but because the open boat was then under
all the sail she could stagger to. The French are a won-
derful people; strange and incompreliensible are the
sailing vessels they have produced ; but in Canada, aided
by the antiquated notions of the English, they surpass
themselves and manage to combine in their pilot-boats
all the defects of which either system is capable. While
the rest of the world has discovered that the more sails a
small boat carries the slower she will go, they have care-
fully cut up what should have been one sail into four;-
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 65

and whereas a pilot-boat is mainly wanted in rough
weather, and should be capable of living in any sea,
they have built them open, and any heavy wave breaking
aboard would swamp them in an instant.

But of all wonderful productions of the human mind
the jigger excels; a mast is stepped alongside the
stern-post, with a little spritsail hoisted on it; a sta-
tionary boom, or out-rigged, is fastened in the stern and
projects aft into the water; in the end of this boom an
augur hole is bored, through which is rove the sheet to
the jigger, and the sail trimmed down or eased off. By
this ingenious arrangement all possible disadvantages are
combined without one conceivable advantage. How-
ever, not to condemn unreasonably, there are conve-
niences in this singular rig. The bowsprit can be taken
out and used to shove off from rocks or a lee shore, and
as these vessels are never known to go to windward, that
is important; the sprit of the jigger can be used to
boom out the mainsail when going wing and wing; any
passenger, finding a sail incommodes him, can reach up
and wrap it round the mast, out of his way; and in fact,
if he were to pull it down and put it in his pocket, no
one would miss it; and finally, a Kentuckian might find
the mainmast ‘isefal, with a little whittling, as a tooth-
pick. It is also rather perplexing that the Canadians
should call the foresail the grande voile, which is the
proper name for the mainsail, and then call the mainsail
the mizzin, in pronouncing which they endeavor to cheat
the last syllable of its vowel ; whereas, the jigger, if any,
is entitled to be called the mizzen. Instead of having a
cabin, like Christians, they have amidships, for it is a

a
66 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

keel boat, what they call a doite ; and sure enough it is
a box, as long as the width of the boat, some seven feet,
about two and a half feet deep at the lowest part, and
rounding to the shape of the bottom, and three and a
half feet wide. Into that they crawl, and two men and
a boy have been known to sleep comfortably.

Such was the vessel that was destined to bear us sixty
miles down the broad St. Lawrence, and was soon tear-
ing along under the fierce wind that crested every wave
with foam. Fortunately, our course lay along the wea-
ther shore, for our open cockle-shell would not have lived
a minute exposed to the full sweep of the blast and the
sea it must have raised on the other side of the river, or
even a few miles from shore. Once in a while, a little
dash of spray would come hissing on board, or fling itself
into our faces; but as the wind was free, we could carry
on sail as long as she could keep above the waves, or
until she carried the masts out of her. Even that
ungainly vessel, driving on in the seething waters, car-
rying the canoes on her deck, and with her sails straining
in the blast, must have been more than picturesque.

On we tore, skirting the dreary, inhospitable coast past
the village of Tadousac, past the Moulinbaud, the Esco-
main, a river once famous for its salmon, but no longer
so; past the Patte de Liévre, a rock of the shape of the
hare’s foot, where many years ago the sea gave up its
dead, and a cross now stands to mark the grave of the
lost nameless one; and the last puffs of the wearied
blast urged us quietly into the outlet of Sault de Cochon.
At the mouth of this river there is a steep fall, down
which once a hog hastily descended much against her
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 67

will; in her death covering herself with immortality
giving her name to the torrent that destroyed her.

Hastily launching one of the canoes, and rigging up our
rods, my companion and-myself, eager for the fray, com-
menced tempting the innocent inhabitants of the deep
with delusive baits, Evidently Mr. Red Hackle was not
one of their intimate acquaintances, and they took to
him amazingly. The god of day was already declining
behind the western hills, and casting long shadows over
the now placid water, but the fish leaped at the fly in
innumerable numbers, giving us such sport as we at least
never enjoyed before. At almost every cast a trout,
varying in size from a quarter of a pound to two pounds
and a half, plunging out of water, seized the fly fear-
legsly in his mouth, while often two or three were on the
line at once. Large or small, they were most vigorous,
making fierce struggles and mad rushes to escape, their
silver sides glancing through the water, and their tails
lashing it into a foam. No dull, heavy, logy fish were
they, but active and lively, and excellent was the sport
they gave; so that when our men, having improvised a
kitchen on the rocks, called to us that supper was ready,
we were loath to leave our sport. It was then eight
o’clock; we had been fishing about three hours, and
over one hundred and twenty fish, averaging about half
a pound, were the net reward of our skill.

The scene, as we took our supper upon the end of an
old tumble-down dock, was peculiar. The light of the
fires, making the surrounding darkness the deeper, served
alone to illumine with lurid brightness the faces and fan-
tastic dresses of our men, while the roar of the cataract
68 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

shut out all other sounds. ‘The chaloupe lay below us,
its outline just defined upon the dark water, while we,
seated upon a log, drank our tea and feasted right roy-
ally upon fresh trout and other comforts that civilization
had provided us.

Truly incomprehensible are the Canadian people. One
of the few inhabitants being without any eatable thing
in the house, having scraped the ftour barrel till he had
scraped off splinters of wood, and, except for our arrival,
without the prospect of a meal for the morrow, had
soothed his sorrows by inviting his neighbors to a ball.
Of course there was no supper; but the music of one
. fiddle, and the merry spirits of the Canadian girls made
up for the deficiency, and when we joined them, after
our tea, they all seemed as happy as though stomachs
never grew hungry or limbs tired. Being politely offered
the belles, we joined the festivities, our potables adding
to the merriment of the party, till, with the prospect
of a hard day’s work on the morrow, we thought best to
retire to the dressing-room and camp upon the floor for
the night. Although the bed was hard, and our rest
somewhat disturbed by visions of beautiful creatures
arranging their hair and dresses by the light of a tallow
candle, before the looking-glass in our room, and at last
donning their hats for a final departure, we slept toler-.
ably, and the early dawn saw us on our feet, preparing
for our departure.

While the men were carrying out our directions, in
anticipation of a long absence from civilization, the
attractions of the finny tribe were too seductive, and we,
yielding to their enticements, again cast our lines in plea-
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 69

sant places, and again, in about three hours, captured ,
over eighty of the speckled silver-sides. The largest
weighed two pounds and a half, and was the best fish
taken, thus far.

The barrels were arranged, the salt was purchased and
stowed, the canoes made fast, the sails set, and, blessed
by a still more favorable southwest wind, we got under
way for La Val. Its mouth was only about one mile
distant, but we intended to ascend it as far as possible
with the chaloupe, on the rising tide, and were thankful
for the favoring wind. At its outlet lies an island of the
same name with the river, behind which stretches a
broad, rocky, shallow bay. We escaped by grazing
several rocks, and entered a sluggish, canal-like, dirty
river, as unlike the La Val of a few miles above as any-
thing can be conceived, and ploughed our way through
crowding shoals of sardines, that rose so thick as to
tempt us to try to catch them with a scap net. But
where the rocks began to be visible as the water became
clearer, we drew the chaloupe to the shore, and anchor-
ing her stem and stern, loaded our canoes for the ascent
of the river. We took with us the essentials of our
camp life, intending to send back for the superfluities
after we had established a permanent camp; the river
being too low, our canoes would not carry a heavy load.

Armed with iron-shod poles to shove up the rapids,
and paddles for the deeper pools, our Canadians took
their places and we commenced our ascent. My com-
panion was an expert canoeman, but for myself it was
my first real lesson in the unsteady little shells, and
seated upon the bottom I awaited every moment a
70 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL,
sudden bath. Here the water was comparatively smooth,
and little was I prepared for the falls and rapids that
were ere long to steady my nerves for anything, and prove
what a canoe can do when it is well handled.

While our head guide, with the musical taste that is
inherent in the French nature, rang forth—

“ Aimez-moi Nicolas,”

the paddles were being plied vigorously, and we shot
into the narrow cleft that forms the bed of the La Val.
Straight up from the water’s edge sprung the hills on
each side, their grey rocks scarcely half covered with
stunted spruce, pine and hemlock, and rarely leaving
margin enough for underwood to grow upon the bank.
The water, now limpid as crystal, poured down in an
ever increasing current, and here and there boiled
over a hidden rock. On we forced our way, a bald
eagle the only contestant for our sole occupancy of the
river, past the grey cliffs, the sombre trees, through dark
pools, up rapid currents, by banks of clay greyer than
the granite hills themselves. On, on, with steady exer-
tions, at every moment ascending toward the source of
the wild stream. The water became shoaler, the cur-
rents stronger, and the rapids more rocky as we ad-
vanced.

Poling up the rapids was strange indeed. Imagine a
torrent pouring, hissing and boiling down over rocks,
where the foam glistened and the spray danced into the
air, sweeping through narrow channels and leaping up
and curling over in crested waves; imagine a light, fra-
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL 1

gile boat, that a man could lift with one hand, forced
against such a current, between or even over the rocks,
swayed about, swept hither and thither, and once in a
while caught broadside on, and, unless quickly righted,
carried to instant destruction. Imagine the excited
efforts, the quick directions of the steersman, or forward
boatman, whose care it is to head the canoe straight, to
choose at a glance the deepest channel, and to keep her
clear as possible from the rocks. “ Arréte! avance!
pousse! & droite! & gauche!” with a thousand others,
come streaming forth as she touches, swings round, or
tries to take her own head. At times she stops entirely,
and by main force alone is she pushed over; the rock
being distinctly felt as it bends the thin bark, that by
its elasticity gives to the pressure and springs to its place
the next instant. The men stand erect, exerting all their
strength, and handle their poles like a Paddy his shille-
lah, first on one side, then on the other, then in front
and then behind, the iron taking a firm hold of the slip-
pery rocks. Such was our ascent, and deeply interesting
it proved to me, although at first it seemed inevitable
that the foaming water must ingulf us all, and, destroy-
ing our provisions, leave us, if we escaped at all, ship-
wrecked mariners upon a desolate coast.

I was glad, therefore, at every opportunity to quit the
canoe, and clambering as fast as I could over the slip-
pery rocks, post myself ahead upon the point of some
batture or ledge of rocks, and cast the fly till the canoe
came toiling painfully along. Great was my success,
beautiful the dark pools, ever varying the limpid water.
The treacherous banks of clay, so slippery that it was
v6) A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

scarce possible to stand on them ; the dark pines casting
a gloomy shadow upon the water, the sombre depths
where the current had worn away a cavern for the
naiads of the watery realm, made together a picture
never to be forgotten. While the innumerable trout
were enough to gladden the heart of any true sportsman.

The day was passed and yet our journey not half
done; we halted for the night as “The shades of eve
came slowly down,” and Walton joined me with his rod
while the tent was being pitched and the fire lighted.
Glorious was our sport; many a brave fish rose and
sunk, and rose to sink no more; either in that region the
parent trout had not learned the infant song that in
civilized localities they are accustomed to teach their
children, or else the mothers did not know the latter
were out; for certainly they were not aware of the con-
cealment of the cruel hook under the seeming insect.
_They showed no fear and we no pity, till the call of
“supper” found us with over a hundred fish, averaging
a pound and a half.

In conscious innocence and happiness we retired; the
fire was bright, the night was warm, the woods were
still, the sand was soft, but oh! the sand flies. They
came down upon us more innumerable than the locusts
in Egypt, and if Pharaoh had only been tormented with
them, he would have given up in one night. I tossed
and turned and rolled about, hid my head under the
blanket, and covered it up with my handkerchief. All
to no use; they would still find some means of entrance,
the little, invisible things; and they bit till my face
seemed on fire. Their bite does not itch like a mosqui-
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 3

to’s, but burns, and I never again shall despise a thing
because it is small. Compelled to surrender all hope of
sleep, I gathered the dying embers of the fire, and add-
ing fuel, drove away the pests, while, at the same time,
with infinite relish, I scorched our men, who, to my pre-
vious disgust, had been sleeping during my sufferings as
though they were in paradise.

By the earliest dawn I had waded into the river and
made the discovery that fish, unlike the proverbial birds,
will not take the fly too early. Just before the sunlight
tinged the mountain-tops, they, thinking to provide their
own breakfasts, provided me with mine, so that, when
the time came to leave off, I had taken twenty fish
weighing over forty pounds.

Immediately after the meal was over, we continued
our ascent as rapidly as possible, dreading another expe-
‘rience such as we had endured the’ previous night, and
hurried on to reach our regula’ camping-ground and
pitch a proper tent. On the way, I only had time to
catch fifteen, weighing thirty-seven pounds, the largest
being of three pounds and a half, and late in the after-
noon hailed with pleasure the information that at last
we had reached the spot that was to be to us for some
time our home. It was a beautiful location ; the stream,
by a sudden bend, forming a low, long point of land,
nearly level, which had been, by previous camping par-
ties, entirely denuded of underbrush and partly of trees.
In front, midway in the river, was a large flat rock,
beyond which, extending to the further shore, and just
fairly within casting distance, lay a deep, black pool.
A dead tree leaned over this rock from our side of the

+ 4
74 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

river, forming a perilous swinging bridge by which one
could reach it dry-shod’ Directly across a cool spring
brook entered the La Val at a place where the shore was
a mass of overhanging underbrush. A pathway had
been cut through the woods by some previous salmon
fishers to the pools above and below ; and with the poles,
benches, boards and other insignificant but useful articles
left by our predecessors, our camping-ground combined
every requisite with many luxuries. At five o’clock
the tent was pitched, our necessary part of the arrange-
ments, the head-work done, and Walton and myself com-
menced fishing. We stood ‘side by side upon the rock
already mentioned, and before dark had taken fifty-three
trout, weighing one hundred.and twenty pounds. They
were most vigorous fish, and many a time did their con-
tinued runs almost exhaust our lines. We had fished at
Sault de Cochon with three flies; on ascending the river.
had diminished them to two, and now the fish themselves
coolly reduced them to one. Almost invariably, if we
struck two fish at a time, no matter what pains we took,
one broke away with the hook. After a short time, we
did not pretend to use more than one, and then had to
take great pains in removing it from the mouth to avoid
its being destroyed, so tough were the lips and strong the
teeth of these noble fish. Indeed, it was soon effectually
proved that any fly with the hackle wound from the
shoulder to the bend was worthless, the first fish biting
away the hackle, which should have been only wound
close to the head. Heretofore the destruction of my fly
had been a minor consideration, but now I: found that I
must look to myself, or, although provided with over
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. q5

thirty dozen, there might be danger of my falling short.
As it was, the fish destroyed in the course of my trip at
least ten dozen.

A delicious night’s rest was the reward of our efforts
at arranging a proper camp, and in fact, henceforth
there was no trouble from flies, mosquitoes, or any insect,
except to a slight degree during the day-time; an annoy-
ance that a segar would effectually dispel. From a quarter
before seven to a quarter past eight next morning I alone
took twelve fish averaging over two pounds, and during
the day, while ascending the river for a short distance to
investigate what now became to us a serious “question,
the depth of water, Walton and myself together caught
twelve, and in the afternoon twenty-eight more. In the
course of this day we established a rule to throw back
all fish weighing under two pounds, a rule we adhered
to till our last day in the river. The water proved to be
very low, and although at night we occasionally heard
the rush of a large fish up the rapids, the salmon had
passed above and were probably on their spawning
grounds, whither it now began to be very doubiful
whether we could follow them. It was late in the sea-
son, as we knew, for salmon, although we had come pre-
pared for them, and wished to catch at least a few.

We had picked up at Sault de Cochon, as a super-
numerary, a boy of about eighteen, who was one of the
most remarkable beings the sun ever shone upon. He
would sit for hours with his mouth open and his hands
before him, and, unless told, would hardly have sense to.
eat enough to keep himself from starvation. After dark,.
our men, with a hook and line and the entrails of a trout
76 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

for bait, caught some eels, and he, emulous of their suc-
cess, took the line after they had finished, and concluded
he would try his luck. Although he had been watching
their proceedings for an hour with the deepest interest,
he had no idea what they used for bait, and was forced
to inquire. They, with peals of laughter, suggested
alternately “a cup of tea, a bit of biscuit, a little ale,
a lump of sugar,” and such other anomalous baits.
Although he at last succeeded in ascertaining from them
what they used, it was not to be supposed that he would
catch anything; in fact, it is highly probable he fell
asleep over his rod and slept till morning.

The next day we prepared for a portage of five miles
to the Lake la Val, a pond of some two miles in length
by one in breadth, formed by the river’s spreading out
and filling a valley in the hills. Walton donned a heavy
basket, Joe, our chief canoeman, took the canoe, while
Frangois, the lazy boy, carried a bundle of bedding.
We crossed the river, and striking directly into the -
woods, followed an Indian trail that had probably been
there before this continent was discovered by Columbus.
The mode of carrying the canoe was truly original ; it
was reversed and mounted on Joe’s shoulders, and his
head being entirely concealed, he steadied it by holding
to one of the cross pieces, and, at a distance, looked like
some strange animal with a huge trunk, supported by
two little legs. It was surprising how he managed it
through the trees and among the underbrush, and even
ascended places where we were compelled to give our
legs the aid of our hands, not, however, without strenu- .
ous exertion, and the perspiration streamed from him
A TRIP T0 THE LA VAL. [7

when, after accomplishing about a mile, he leaned it
upon a fallen log and slipped from beneath. Then the
warning my friend had so often given me never to wet
the bottom of the cange, because it augmented its weight
so terribly, came forcibly to mind. Fortunately Francois
waked up, and having volunteered to carry the canoe
over the next stretch, and it being ascertained, to every
one’s astonishment, that he knew how, proved himself
for the first time of any value, and shortened our jour-
ney considerably. During the portage we saw our first
game, a spruce grouse so tame that no efforts we made
could induce him to fly. He escaped death, primarily
because we had no gun, and secondarily because it was
out of season. At last, after a trying journey for our
men, we passed a deserted lumbermen’s shanty, and
found ourselves upon the sandy shore of the lovely Lake
la Val/

This beautiful sheet of water, lying amid high sterile
hills far from the abodes of man, has remained, and will
continue for centuries, unvisited except by the native
Indian or the adventurous sportsman. Romantic in its
location and appearance, it is remarkable for the num-
ber and apparently irreconcilable character of the fish
that inhabit its waters. While the voracious northern
pickerel and giant mascallonge inhabit the upper part,
and the fierce, greedy and powerful salmon have appro-
priated the outlet, shad or mullet and lake trout, both
comparatively inoffensive, dwell in the centre, and
doubtless prove an easy prey and grateful food to their
natural enemies on either hand. Along the upper mar-
gin, weeds grow, and the bottom is in places soft and
78 «a TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

muddy, while the residue of the shore and bottom is firm
white sand. The lake looked, in its broad expanse with
the sun dancing on its rippled surface, lovely to us
whose eyes had for a time been confined to a narrow
gorge or the blue sky above.

Hastily launching the canoe, we descended the outlet,
where the water poured over huge bowlders covered with
a long, weedy grass, the seeds of which had been washed
from the lake. Walton was standing in the bow of the
canoe, and shouted with delight, and waved his paddle
enthusiastically in air as salmon after salmon flashed up
through the water, and shot by, rapid as light. The
sight made our nerves tingle, but it was useless to try
for them; the water was too clear, and they were dark
and long run from the sea. At one point he frantically
shouted to stop, and hastily explained that he had seen
five salmon and numerous large trout in one deep hole.
In vain, however, did we cast our flies, they had been
frightened, and probably rushed down the stream, for we:
could not stir a fin. Descending a short distance fur-
ther, we halted for dinner, after which, taking advantage
of a resting spell, I waded back to the same spot.

The pool lay close beside a little island covered with
alders, and by crawling cautiously I kept out of sight,
and reaching the head of the island, cast carefully and
lightly round it into the pool. The line went out straight
the full length, the fly fell like a snow-flake on the
water, there was an angry rush, a mighty splash, a quick
taughtening of the line, and an enormous fish was
fastened to my frail tackle. In his astonishment he
fortunately darted up stream, and by skillful manage.
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 79
ment was led round into.the other channel, where, after
many a struggle and desperate effort to escape, baffled
only by prudence and care exerted through a long but
exciting half hour, I landed him by walking into the
‘water waist deep, and slipping the net under him. As
for leading him to shore, my rod, already bent double,
would not bear the strain. He was a dark-backed,
yellow-sided river fish, and weighed four pounds and a
quarter. He was our champion prize, and remained so
to the end. The water not having been disturbed, I
made another cast, and was rewarded by another fish
that weighed four pounds. <A brace of beauties, fit to set
before a king. The second one, however, so fought and
flounced, and kicked and slapped about in the pool, in
spite of all my persuasive efforts to induce him to leave
it, that the rest grew suspicious, and refused the most
seductive baits. My friend looked the least little bit
envious when IJ rejoined him, and mentioned his having
previously taken a sea trout at the Mingan that weighed
nine pounds. I smiled, of course respectfully. We
returned to the lake, having taken in all fifteen fish
averaging three pounds, and leaving the canoe on the
beach, wended our way through the woods back to our
sylvan home, where Pierre received us with a redoubtable
supper. Insatiable, however, I that evening took eight,
and next morning three, from our preserve, as we called
the pool in front of the tent.

As we intended to return to the lake, and might per-
haps spear a pickerel, Joe made an égog, which appears
to be the Indian name for fish-spear, the Canadians
having not only adopted the word, but coined from it a
80 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

French verb, égogger, to spear. Armed with it, and
provided with make-shift tenting materials, we has-
tened to the lake, and launching our canoe, tried its
virtues upon the pickerel. The latter, however, were so
scarce, that we rigged up the more effectual spinning
tackle, and took a pickerel and a mascallonge of about
twelve pounds. each, and struck another of the latter
very large, weighing, as well as could be guessed, from
his passing close to the boat, about forty pounds. That
night, provided with flambeaux, we went out for the
purpose of again trying to spear pickerel; but, passing
by the outlet of the pond, were so attracted by the
numerous salmon, we could get no further.

It was a romantic sight; the canoe, lit up by the
blazing flambeau, that was fastened, high above our heads,
to a pole fixed in the bow, and by its glare made the
surrounding darkness the more impenetrable; the silence
of the night was unbroken, except by the dip of the
paddle; and calmness of the water unruffled, through
which the bewildered salmon lazily floated, fillevaric us
about, coming so close that we could touch them with
our hands, and occasionally jumping frantically into the
air, utterly out of their wits and at the mercy of any
poacher. Walton was excited, myself enthusiastic, but
Joe was frantic; “ Hyoggez donc! égoggez donc!” he
shouted, wildly pushing at the fish with his paddle, and
almost ready to jump out of the boat. My friend held
the spear in hand—he was a splendid spearsman, and
could have filled the boat with salmon; but it was ille-
gal as well as dishonorable to catch them in that manner
—he wavered but a moment, and then with a sigh lay
a A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 81

down the spear and took up his paddle, the greatest
exainple of self-command and honest, spertsmanship I
ever knew. General Washington, when he refused to be
king, was no greater. My friend was not rewarded if he
did not sleep happier for it that night in the old cabin on
the shore of Lake la Val; and if the falling pipe of the
rotting stove that nearly crushed his head had killed
him, he would have died virtuous, respected and without
reproach. ,
Oh, that I had the pen of Julius Cesar, Homer,
' Shakspeare, or even Byron, that I might write an ode
to sapin, the balsam fir-tree! Tree of the weary woods-
man, tree of the luxurious sportsman, tree of all men
whom the drowsy god catches in the woods and compels
to his embraces! A bed of thy leaves is softer than one
of eider-down, and far more comfortable. A prince
might sleep on thee and dream he was in paradise.
Thou preservest us from colds, from rheumatism, and the
many ills that flow from the evil humors of the cold
ground. Thy leaves, growing in one direction from the
stem, will lie flat, and may be piled to any depth—a foot
of luxury, as in our permanent camp—and make a couch
that combines the softness of the feather-bed with the
firmness of the mattress, and an elasticity purely thy
-own. To thee, and to thy mate the hemlock, and thy
associate the white birch, I now, far from thee, waft, in
a cloud of tobacco-smoke, my love. Go on, increase and
wax great; may often the one support me on the land,
the other on the water!
When the next morning’s sun had once more brought
round my birthday, the thirty-first that had ever dawned,
4* .
82 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.
we commemorated the fact by undertaking to descend
the La Val from the outlet to our home; a roundabout
journey of some fifteen miles, in lieu of the portage of
five. It was to be a final test of the depth of the water,
as the course lay over bad rapids and falls, and we
entered upon the journey with great uncertainty. Pack-
ing our temporary bedding in a water-proof blanket, our
party embarked and sped gaily along for the first mile
or two, but soon found the bed of the stream one mass
of huge rocks, over which the canoe had to be driven
with sheer force, and which tore and strained the fragile
bark till it leaked terribly. ‘

During this day our progress was necessarily slow
and laborious, and to relieve ourselves we fished continu:
ally. The trout rose beautifully—in fact, in one pool
they were so thick, sweeping round in shoals, that we
grew suffeited, and left it for a spot where they were
less plenty. Still it required a long line and light fly to
cull the largest—which were the ones we sought—and
skill and patience to land them. We might have taken
hundreds had the time permitted, or our canoe been in
condition to carry them; but every strain had increased
the leak till we could no longer keep it down by bailing,
and had to land from time to time to turn the water out.
In fact, it was a wet time altogether; there was a driz-
zling rain, the canoe was three inches deep with water,
we had both been wading part of the day, and had so
arranged our water-proof blanket that it projected be-
yond the temporary tent, and catching all the water that
drained off, would not permit it to soak through, but
collected a miniature Lake la Val in the middle of our
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 83

bed. I being the heaviest, had the most of it; but by
the aid of a blazing fire, I slept warm and comfortable
till the morning air struck me, when the time came to
rise, and sent a shiver to my very bones, giving me at
first horrible visions of consumption, night-sweats and
early death. Our tally of fish taken during the day
amounted to fifty-three, weighing nearly two hundred
pounds, and I had captured the greatest weight as yet
taken at one cast, landing two fish, one of which weighed
two and the other three pounds and a half. A handsome
present the river gods made me for my birthday!

The next day, after an hour had been spent in vainly
trying to attract the salmon, our journey was continued
to the camp, the river as we descended proving worse,
the rocks higher, the rapids fiercer, the water lower,
our canoe frailer, till it came almost to dragging the
latter over the bed of a current instead of floating com-
fortably along its surface. All hope of ascending to the
head-waters was extinct, the rapids above the lake we
knew must be worse than those below, and the latter
were totally impassable for a loaded canoe. In our
despair, we fished steadily at every breathing spell, and
might have taken unlimited numbers, for they rose
gloriously.

While walking unconsciously along, separated from
my companions, I was fairly startled at observing what
at first glance seemed to be a female figure seated on the
opposite side of the stream beneath the bank. The
impression was only dissipated by a close inspection.
The rains had scooped out of the bank a dark niche, the
edges of which were ornamented with vines and moss.
84 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

and in it was seated a figure of clay, worn to an aston-
ishing likeness of a woman with a gipsy. bonnet on her
head. She appeared to be seated, and her bonnet, its
strings and her dress, were accurately imitated by the
curling white birch bark. The color of her face seemed
dark brunette, set off by the birch bonnet, that was
brought out in strong relief by the heavy shadow of the
background. Altogether, it was a startling apparition,
and conjured up to my eyes the wondrous sights of the
times of elfin power, when my spectre would have made
a most perfect wood nymph.

Whether my elf gave me good luck or not, it is impos-
sible to say, but we caught thirty-seven magnificent fish,
and after a hard day’s work, during which we had toiled
at the canoe and waded most of the way, the camp was
no unwelcome sight. It required Pierre’s best culinary
efforts to restore our spirits, and soothe our disappoint-
ment at being unable to effect a further ascent, in which
our worst forebodings were confirmed by Jermain, an
additional guide who had followed us, and who reported
from his Indian friends that the upper stream was impass-
able, the water being a foot lower than was ever known
before. With sad hearts, therefore, the council of war
determined that advance was hopeless, and retreat ine-
vitable; even our splendid sport could not console us.

It had been drizzling all-day, and the next morning
we devoted to a general drying of wet articles—the
camp looked like a grand clothes washing establishment,
with lines stretched from tree to tree round a big fire,
and hung with clothes. I took some seven trout for
dinner, but otherwise the fish had a rest until the mor-
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL, 85

row, which was to be our last on the river, when we cap-
tured twenty-eight, a few of which, however, did not
exceed a pound and a half in weight.

The next day came, and good bye to the beautiful La
Val. Slowly and sorrowfully we struck our tent, sadly
we collected together, and stowed the many little arti-
cles that the occasion had hallowed to our hearts. With
feelings of deep regret we embarked, and looking our
last look at the camping-ground that had been our home,
commenced a descent to our chaloupe. As there were
three canoes, and only five canoemen, including my
friend, I was gladly compelled to take the bow of one
and act as steersman. Of course my experience was
limited, for, with the exception of having once upset
Walton to his intense disgust, I had taken little active
part in canoe management, and having for my stern-oar,
Joe, whose only idea was to push ahead under all cir-
cumstances, we performed manceuvres that astonished
more than they delighted our associates. Ours was the
leaky canoe that had been patched up with gum and a
piece of a shirt for the occasion, and being utterly reck-
less of it, we shot down rapids and leaped over rocks
like a runaway race-horse. Wonderful were our hair
breadth escapes ; the rapid water, Joe with his “ Avances
toujours,” gave me no time to see and less to avoid the
half-hidden dangers, even if my skill had been equal to
the task, and we darted along amid the foaming current,
or plunged headlong down cataracts, at a rate and in a
manner that would have surprised a.locomotive off the
track. We succeeded, however, in keeping straight with
the current, and although once or twice our destruction
86 A TRIP TO THE LA VAL.

seemed inevitable, we finally arrived safe, though in a
leaky and dilapidated condition, at the place where we had
anchored our chaloupe. The latter, left to herself, had
been trying what she could do on the rocks, and had
succeeded, with the aid of a falling tide, in upsetting
twice, and so frightening the boy in charge of her that
he had fled for refuge to a shanty, which providentially
was near at hand.

Joe had taken the opportunity during our last day’s
fishing, on hearing of the misfortunes of his boat, to
remove her to the Sault de Cochon, so that we had to
paddle about two miles in the open St. Lawrence. The
river was over twenty miles broad, and, under the influence
of a southwesterly wind, was so rough that our un-
steady bark danced, tossed and rolled about uncommonly.
I could no longer stand up, ag I had been forced to do
hitherto, and was brought to my knees at once, while
even Joe found it safer to sit down on the thwart. No
one who has not tried it can imagine what a canoe is in
the slightest sea-way ; it appears to bob from under you,
and rolls and dances so quickly as to render staying in
it almost impossible, even if it should not carry out its
evident design to turn bottom up. Once at Sault de
Cochon and I again tried the fish, having taken, on the
descent of the La Val, twelve, and was rewarded as I
deserved, by total Pines,

The wind had died out, the water lay a perfect mirror,
and, crowding down into the narrow cock-pit, we slept
till two o’clock in the morning, when a favoring tide
helped us slowly along toward our destination. The
night passed, and the next day, and we drifted by place
A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 87

after place that we passed before with such rapidity, and
sunset again found us only thirty-three miles on our way.
We ran into a little bay at the mouth of the Escomain,
where, having built a huge fire and eaten a hearty sup-
per, we slept, on a bed of the softest pebble stones,
soundly and sweetly till the first grey light of daybreak,
when we continued our journey along a coast so poor
that the best fed hogs are, as we were credibly informed,
light and weak enough to be blown over by a strong
wind, and mill-stones, to say nothing of the miller,
starve for want of grain.

Again the hills of the Saguenay rise to our view,
Tadousac rests calmly in its nook, and the sun shines on
the white houses of L’Anse 4 l’Eau as when we left.
Our trip is done. The La Val will live in our memory
as long as we can cast a fly—aye, and when gout or age
shall have laid us on the shelf. To you, my friend, the
genial companion of my trip, I give my thanks; may we
meet again, and once more stand side by side upon some
projecting rock, as fish after fish rises to our fly. May
you long live to enjoy the sport at which you so excel,
and may you leave children that can cast a fly as well.
To the stately St. Lawrence, to the magnificent Sague-
nay, to the beautiful La Val, a long farewell.
88 THE SALMON.

CHAPTER V.

THE SALMON.

Salmo Salar.—This celebrated fish is totally different
in appearance from the trout, having decidedly brilliant
scales, colored bluish black down to the lateral line, and
beautiful and white as glistening silver below. It has
on the gill-covers and upper part of the sides occasion-
ally dark irregular spots. The tail is more forked, and
proportionally more expanded than that of the trout,
while the fish is of a more slim and elegant shape.

The branchial rays are twelve, and the fin-rays are as
follows :

D. 13.0; P.15; V.9; A.9. C. 192.

These splendid and valuable fish, whether regarded as
an object of the sportsman’s skill or the epicurean’s
taste, though once abundant in our State, are so no more.
Hendrick Hudson, on ascending the river he discovered,
was particularly struck with their immense numbers,
and continually mentions the “ great stores of salmon.”
The last unhappy fish that was seen in the Hudson had
his adventurous career terminated by the net, near
Troy, in the year 1840. The rivers flowing into Lake
Ontario abounded with them even until a recent period,
but the persistent efforts at their extinction have at last
prevailed, and except a few stragglers they have ceased
THE SALMON. 89
from out our waters. The willful, stupid obstinacy in
building dams without fishways, in crowding the rivers
with nets, and neglecting all measures for their protec-
tion, have annihilated the noblest of game fish. They
are now only to be found in Maine, and to the north-
ward of it. The rivers of Maine are no longer worth
the angler’s attention, and if he would have good sport
he must proceed to the wilds of New Brunswick or
Lower Canada.

In the wild woods of those famed regions they
abound, and there, amid the solitude of nature, in its’pri
meval grandeur, the writer has cast the fly over thou-
sands, has lured hundreds from their hidden depths, and
seen myriads moving about in their romantic pools, ot
darting away when disturbed; has waited, casting
patiently, for their appearance; has felt the vigor of
their first rush ; has seen them leap, maddened, high out
of water; has experienced all the variations of hope,
the exultation of success, and, alas! the agony of fail-
ure. He has known them to dart away resistlessly down
some impassable rapid, and leap for joy as they broke
his frail tackle, and he has seen them panting with the
gaff in their sides and the dark blood streaming over their
resplendent scales, as his quick-eyed assistant had secured
them at the moment the hook was tearing out. Aye, he
once had the good Iuck of having one that was thrown
out of water by the blow, the hook tearing out at the
same time, caught on the gaff ere he fell back into the
watery grave of hope.

The glorious sport! Ye delvers after the ore of gold,
hidden as it seems to be in boxes of silk or bales of cot-
90 THE SALMON.

ton, in bits of paper or leaves of ledgers; ye weary
crawlers through the streets of mammon, who think the
world is bounded by the four walls of your ambition ;
ye who have been brought up to work, as though work
were the aim of life instead of the means of its improve-
ment; ye who have laid up a few hundred for some pet
dissipation, a visit to Saratoga or Newport, or a fight
with the tiger—that man-eater—and ye who must watch
every day over your accumulated millions, lest a penny
slip into a cranny and be lost, go to the woods, where
you will be surrounded by the sombre trees, where the
rocks will be your companions and the wind whisper
and the stream prattle to you. There you will learn
how little it takes to render man comfortable and happy,
how but for his reckless passions and extravagant desires
all might be satisfied and plenty crown the human race.
There, where nature speaks to you in her beauty, in her
grandeur, and occasionally in her stupendous power;
where the wonders of the universe by day and night are
ever present, like old friends ; where there is naught but
the thin air between the Maker and his beings, you may
learn what will be more valuable some day than any
treasure of gold or silver. Breathe the pure air, shake
off every ill that flesh is heir to; add to your life, if you
love it so well, a week for each day, and that a day of
never wearying enjoyment. Take rod and gun, aspire
to cast the line far and straight and light, feel the strug-
gle of patience, perseverance, skill, resolution, with brute
strength and cunning; know the pleasurable anxiety of
the chase, the alternate hope and fear, and the final
glory of success. Learn the woodsman’s art, the “ gentle

.
THE SALMON. 91

craft of venerie,” and wonder at the resources of the
wilderness, and on your return thank me not, if you can.
But that you may do it well, read the following prosy
instructions carefully, for if they be not entertaining
they be useful.

The rod for salmon fishing should be from sixteen to
twenty feet long; one of sixteen, or even fifteen, if well
made and elastic, will answer. It must be strong and
stiff, but not too heavy, and the further it will cast the
greater will be the success. Salmon are more wary than
trout ; if they see a horrible, ill-shapen being, like man,
lashing at them with a long whip, they lie close to the
bottom, and it is only by keeping well out of sight, and
never disturbing or approaching the pool, that they can
be tempted. ~ A short rod, though it may be capable of
casting the requisite distance, will not give sufficient
command nor enable the angler to lift the fly with
facility.

The fly must be cast straight, light, and as far as pos-
sible ; it must be put exactly upon the right ripple, and
must fall like a snow-flake; it should, if the water
is still, be allowed to sink a few inches and then drawn
up to and along the surface a foot or so, again allowed to
sink, and so on till it is raised for another cast. It is not
moved as rapidly, nor with precisely the same tremulous
motion as in trout fishing. Often a long time passes
before a fish, no matter how plenty they may be, will
rise ; and when he does come, it is as often to play with
and slap at the fly as to take it. Nothing is more pro-
vokingly exciting than to have a magnificent fish rush
again and again at your fly, leap over and around it,
92 THE SALMON.

break near it or strike at it with his tail, without, how
ever, showing the slightest desire to take it in his mouth.

A fish hooked foul, though he gives a great deal of
trouble, and often breaks the tackle, does not afford half
the legitimate sport of one that has the hook in the
mouth. x

When fish are playing thus, and it is fully determined
that they will not take the allurement presented them,
no matter how attractive, it becomes necessary to substi-
tute another, and continue so doing till their dainty pal-
ates are satisfied.

When they finally take hold, have a care for their first
rush ; the pain, if pain they feel, or astonishment, drives
them wild, and they dash and fling themselves about,
leap out of water, and carry on generally in a manner to
surprise ‘weak nerves. Finding their efforts to escape
vain, they will dart down the nearest rapids, and here
they must be followed if the water is too shallow for the
canoe, by the angler, with the agility of the antelope.
He must have feet, hands, and eyes for everything. The
fish must be guided through the-safest current, the line
kept clear of rocks, while the angler must pursue his
course through pools and over ledges and bowlders, slip-
pery with the water, and requiring the sureness of foot
of the chamois. On, on he must go, regardless of falls
or bruises, his reel making sweet music to the uncoiling
line, keeping within sight of his prey till the latter
reaches the next pool or resting-place. After an hour’s
struggle in this, he may take down another rapid in the
same vigorous style. In these descents the angler will
find his gaff, if shod with iron, a great convenience in
THE SALMON. 93

steadying his steps, and heavy shoes with iron nails
will in a measure prevent his slipping and will obviate
stone bruises, although they are apt to break the
delicate knees of the canoe, and should be removed
before getting into one, and moccasins or slippers sub-
stituted. There is a well authenticated story of one fish
that was struck at six o’clock in the evening, followed
down through three rapids, and finally lost at halfpast
ten o’clock that evening.

Salmon will sulk, remaining motionless at the bottom
for a long time after they are wearied with an unsuc-
cessful struggle, and must be aroused with pebbles, bear-
ing on the line, or in some other way. Many of the
pools in the Canadian waters have been worn out of clay
banks, and their sides under water are often perpendicu-
lar or overhanging. When the fish sulks in one of these,
the line cuts into the edge of this bank, and is of course
broken to pieces by the first rush.

Gentleness will do much with fish, as with other rea-
sonable beings,.and a friend of mine saved a number in
a pool above an impassable rapid, where other anglers
had pronounced fishing impracticable, by striking and
handling the fish with extreme delicacy till they were
led to the head of the pool away from the dangerous
neighborhood.

There is no superlative salmon line made; the best,
probably, plaited silk, tapered and covered with a prepa-
ration to exclude the water; but that in general use is
of hair and silk plaited or twisted—a combination that,
as we elsewhere remark, is by no means advantageous ;
a plain hair line is preferred by careful anglers, and sim.
94 THE SALMON.

ple silk will answer. The leader should be of single gut,
if round and strong, and may be colored in tea. Double
gut will break the rod but not save the fish. The flies,
contrary to the received opinion in Europe, should be
dark, especially clarets and browns, above all the impal-
pable “fiery brown,” and of rather a small size, with a
few larger for rough water. The reel should be large
enough to carry two hundred yards of line, although
with activity and a hundred an angler may make out.

As for the number of fish, even in the best streams,
those who read Lanmann must receive his statements
with, to use a moderate term, some allowance. Ten or
twelve fish in the course of a day is excellent luck, and
will keep the angler sufficiently occupied and excited,
but the average good fishing through the season is not
half that number, and there are many blank days. The
upper shore of the St. Lawrence furnishes the largest
fish, but New Brunswick the most abundant. The rivers
in the former are mostly leased to individuals by the
government, and of course closed to the public except
by the consent of the lessees. That famous association
called the Hudson’s Bay Company, a kingdom within a
kingdom, until'a few years ago, were sole proprietors of
fishing rights, but having taken pains worthy of our
emulation to destroy the fish, the government curtailed
their privileges, and passed stringent laws and regula-
tions, which are set out in the appendix, for the preserva-
tion of the fish.

The rivers of New Brunswick are still free. The. .
fly-fishing in Canada lasts till the first day of Sep-
tember, and in New Brunswick till the fifteenth ; but
THE SALMON. 95

the net fishing terminates earlier, and in Canada all
spearing or fishing by torchlight is stringently forbidden.
These laws are, strange as it may seem to us, enforced
with commendable energy in Canada, though in New
Brunswick our mode of letting the people override the
laws prevails.

The best river in New Brunswick beyond all com-
parison, is the Nipisiquit, emptying in the Bay of Cha-
leurs, and near it are several almost as prolific. In
Lower Canada the Mingan, the Moisie, the Busamite
stand preéminent, but have many rivals. Directions fou:
reaching them have been given under the head cf sea
trout fishing, but instead of taking a sail-boat, as there
suggested, from any port on the river St. Lawrence, the
same might be done either from Bathurst or Prince
Edward’s Island, both of which are nearer the lower
streams,

There are many excellent rivers on the coast of Labra-
dor as far as the Straits of Belle Isle, or even farther, and
they would be well worth a visit, either in one of our
clipper yachts or in a fast schooner. Many are entirely
beyond the realms of civilization, and a pleasant party
night have a glorious time and abundant sport.

It, would be necessary to take canoemen and canoes,
or what is strongly recommended, small, light flat-boats
that can be rowed or poled by one man, and which can
be purchased for five dollars apiece at most of the gulf
seaports. .

Arm yourself, then, with two good salmon rods; they

‘may be so made us to constitute a trout rod as well, not
by any means one of those detestable nondescripts called
96 THE SALMON.

a general rod, but two rods distinct with joints fitting to
each other. Take with you two good lines, plenty of
flies, extra gut and hooks, leaders and feathers, and a
strong hook gaff, but not that dangerous, unwieldy
instrument called a spring gaff. Thus equipped, go forth
conquering and to conquer, and may good luck attend
you. Seek any of the rivers we shall name, ascend
them in your fragile canoe, station yourself early in the
morning or at the approach of evening, choose your best
fly, keep well out of view, cast far and light, and may
you many and many a time be.rewarded with the fierce
rush of the mighty salmon, his struggle and final con-
quest, and may your sleep be sound and your heart at
rest amid nature’s primeval hills. May the black flies
and mosquitoes spare you, may the sand-fly not find you
out, may the heat be tempered to you by day and the
cold by night, may you not lose your footing too often,
nor fall too hard, and may your fish be the largest,
strongest and bravest that ever were taken. May you
receive that mercy which you show, never drawing one
drop of useless blood, nor causing one unnecessary pang.

The aid of all good men and true is needed both by
precept and example, to save the tenants of the water
from final extermination. By putting restraint upon
ourselves, never being guilty of wanton slaughter, by
steadily urging measures for the preservation of the
game, and by invariably obeying and compelling others
to obey such laws as should be passed, we may be able to
leave to our children a heritage of pleasure that bountiful
nature has abundantly provided for ourselves. No fish
are more defenceless and more readily destroyed than
THE SALMON. 97

trout and salmon ; there are certain prerequisites to the
continuance of the species that must be complied with.
The fish must ascend to the fresh water to spawn, and if
prevented by an improperly constructed dam, will quit
the locality never to return.

It should be known that, contrary to the usually
received opinion, salmon cannot surmount a fall of much
over ten feet; this, probably, is the full extent of their
powers. And in effecting this, much depends upon the
depth of water at its foot; the deeper it is the higher
they can leap. They do not take their tails in their
mouths, according to the ancient theory, to enable them
to spring higher, but rush with their utmost velocity
from the bottom, and are carried by their momentum a
considerable distance out of water. Such a leap or a
struggle against strong rapids weakens them, and they
must soon rest to recover strength for another ascent.
They thus congregate below each fall, and often make
many efforts before they overcome it. They usually
move at night or early in the morning. A dam of fif
teen or twenty feet will effectually exclude them from
any stream, but may be rendered innocuous at small
expense by placing below the wasteway boxes of heavy
wood, with a fall of not over five feet from one to the
other. A salmon leaps from the river to the first, from
that to the next, and so on till he has overcome the
barrier. A broad sluiceway leading at a moderate
angle to the pool below, will probably answer as well.

The fish, as they enter the rivers, may be deterred
from entering, or all captured in nets spread entirely
across the mouth, and when those that do pass have

5
98 THE SALMUN.

reached the spawning beds, they are peculiarly exposed
to the cruel spear. At night, by this instrument, with
the aid of flambeaux, hundreds may be killed and many
more wounded and left to perish miserably. If they are
to continue in reasonable numbers, nets must not be set
close together, the spawning beds must be undisturbed,
and the murderous spear utterly prohibited. With
these precautions and a regulation concerning the sized
mesh that is used, this valuable source of pleasyre, health
and profit may not only be retained but indefinitely
augmented; without such care the day is not far off
when “the places that knew them will know them no
more,” when their bright sides will no longer gleam
beneath the waves or glisten as they gambol in the sun-
light, when the nets will cease to yield a return, when
the fishermen, longing regretfully for their most valuable
prize, will find their occupation gone, and honest and
dishonest, fair fisherman and sneaking poacher, alike be
overwhelmed in one common ruin. Surely we have too
much good sense, too, much public spirit, too much
energy and determination to submit to such a calamity ;
let us unite, then, in repressing unseasonable and unlaw-
ful fishing, i in preserving and protecting the fish, and in
restoring rivers that have been exhausted.

In the salt water, salmon never take the fly, and ete
bait of any kind, although they feed on sand eels and
small fish in addition to shell-fish; but as they advance
into brackish or fresh water, they either miss their natu-
ral food and become hungry, or get accustomed to feed-
ing on grasshoppers and insects, and are deceived by the
artificial fly, and will at times take the bait.
THE SALMON. 99

When they leave the salt water, the sea-lice that have
fastened to them fall off, frequently to be replaced by
fresh-water parasites, and this is sometimes given as the
reason for their leaving the sea so early in the year,
although they do not spawn till the Fall. While spawn-
ing they are unfit to eat, and after the operation are
utterly exhausted. In this condition, when returning to
the sea, they are termed kelts, the male being distin-
guished as a kipper and the female as a baggit. As the
spawning season approaches, a curious cartilaginous
hook grows from the lower jaw, which is supposed to be
a provision of nature to prevent an unfortunate termina-
tion to the many desperate contests between the males
at that period.

The habits of salmon are by no means determined ;
in fact, little is known positively about them. It has
been even suggested that grilse are a distinct species,
although it is hardly doubted with us but they are young
salmon. ‘Their times of visiting the fresh water~are
subject to peculiar individual exceptions; in fact, it may
be said there are two opinions among fishermen, and
persons who have watched salmon for twenty and thirty
years assert that some are ascending while others are
descending. Izaak Walton says that salmon spawn in
August, which is directly contrary to the views of other
English writers, and certainly not in accordance with the
practice of our fish. Others again say they return to
the salt water in September, and reascend the rivers
later in the Fall. The young in all stages have been
disputed over, and called by divers names, such as pinks,
smolts, parr, brandling, samlet, peal, grilse, until one
100 THE SALMON.

hardly knows what sort of fish he really has captured.
Every writer has his theory, and the following is mine ;
it may be true or not, but the statements of fact are.
Salmon are never found in our rivers except in three
stages: First, a little fish much like a trout, but with a
larger eye and richer colors; they have no blue spots, but -
have darker bands on their sides; they weigh from half
an ounce to half a pound. Second, the grilse, which is
precisely like a salmon, except that it weighs from two
and a half to six pounds. Third, the salmon, which
weighs from eight to eighty pounds. Salmon first appear
in the fresh water about the 10th of June, and grilse a
month later. The main run of the former is from June
15th to August 15th in New Brunswick, and from June
10th to July 20th in Canada. The explanation of this
difference is simple: the Canadian fish are much the
largest, averaging double the size of their more southern
brethren, and as the waters fall during the hot months
of Summer, they must ascend earlier than smaller fish,
and before the spring freshets have entirely subsided, or
they would never reach the high waters at all. Strag-
gling fish, however, are running up at all seasons, early
and late, and a few probably remain in the fresh water
the entire year, or descend only when they are sickened
by a lengthened residence in an unchanged element.
Salmon do not spawn in Summer, but in Winter, com-
mencing not earlier, and often later, than October; the
fish that ascend last probably spawn last. Then they
return to the sea; but not at once, some remaining under
the ice through the Winter, others going immediately.
My theory, therefore, is that the young fisk, whether you
THE SALMON. 101

call them fry, or pinks, or smolts, or peal, go to the sea
usually a year after their birth, but with no invariable
regularity, and will then average six ounces in weight,
many undoubtedly waiting till the Fall, or eighteen
months after birth; that they return the succeeding
July grilse ; that the grilse spawn the following Novem-
ber, and after visiting the sea, reappear next Spring as
salmon. The young fish are taken with the fiy through
the Summer in all the salmon rivers, and require a second
glance to distinguish them from young trout, although
they are very different, one decisive peculiarity being
that their backs are arched or hogged, and another, as I
have mentioned, that their eyes are large. The fry of
trout—and recollect grown trout are not banded—have
light sides, and are found usually in more quiet water.
It would be well if sportsmen should call the fish in
question respectively salmon fry, grilse, and salmon, and
eschew all other fanciful names, as leading only to con-
fusion.

Salmon are never taken in fresh water with any food
in their stomachs; they are reported. not to eat their
young, and do not apparently feed on flies. The fry
feed almost entirely on flies, and I have seen them pick
off one after another as skillfully as a trout; but I have
never distinctly seen a salmon take a natural fly. When
they spring out of water, it is in play, and at such times,
contrary to the rule with trout, casting over them will
be in vain, they will not rise. Moreover, our flies do not
in the least resemble the natural flies of the rivers, which
are of a dull green, and the salmon rivers afford very
few flies at best. Observe me,.I do not refer to mosqui-
162 THE SALMON.

toes or black gnats, at neither of which would gentle-
manly fish deign to look. My theory, therefore, is, that
salmon do not feed during the spawning season, but are
supported by the animalcule in the water, and have poor
commons at that, as their miserable condition soon testi-
fies. Many varieties of fish live without apparent food,
often with the additional disadvantage of infrequent
change of water, as goldfish in a globe.

When salmon first arrive in the harbors, they coast
along the shore, and: are then taken in nets, which are
required by law to have a mesh too large to capture
grilse; later, they leave the warm shallows, and follow
the cooler channel beyond the nets, which are only per-
mitted to extend a certain distance. The tide-water
fishing is therefore practically over by the 1st of August.
Net fishing above the salt water is forbidden, or at least
subject to the same restrictions, which, if they were
enforced, would almost put an end to it; but, discredit-
able as it may seem, and short-sighted as such conduct
unquestionably is, this law is totally disregarded in many
rivers, where of course the fish are rapidly diminishing.
They spawn over gravelly flats and pools, covering up
the ova after impregnation, and then descend slowly,
greatly emaciated, ugly and woe-begone, to the sea. At
such times, although they will still take the fly, they are
unfit to eat, and while, they notwithstanding frequently
fall a victim to the cruel spear of the murderous savage,
no true angler nor honest man will‘harm them.

Casting the fly gracefully and effectively is a peculiar
art, hard to acquire, and picturesque to witness; it ic
altogether different from slashing the water, and almost
THE SALMON. 103

as difficult of mastery as the corresponding science
of trout fishing. The rod, being long and compara-
tively heavy, must be held in both hands, which are
changed occasionally so as to alternate that at the but,
and teach the angler to cast over either shoulder. The
line is lengthened to the proper distance, is raised with
a springing jerk, swung out straight behind, and then
again cast forward with the same springy motion. The
work has to be done with the tip, which, except in cast-
ing against the wind, must be kept as elevated as possi-
ble. The stiffer the rod the more command the angler
has over his line in avoiding the rocks and making the
best of awkward places; but this is counterbalanced by
the disadvantages of excessive weight and a stiffness in
striking that frequently breaks the casting line. A rod
will cast four times its length beyond the tip; one of
sixteen feet, therefore, will cast sixty-four feet of line,
ordinarily abundant; and although one of twenty feet
will cover sixteen more feet, unless it is made of cedar it
is uncomfortably heavy. .A cedar rod would be perfec-
tion, but it is not to be trusted in the hands of a
bungler.

When there is any current, and it is rare to take
salmon elsewhere, the fly is cast across the stream and
allowed to swing over the fish, which invariably lie with
their heads up-stream. When a salmon intends to rise,
he generally separates himself from his companions and
waits till the fly approaches to the precise distance that
pleases him. Then

“Strike for your altars and your homes,”
104 THE SALMON,

not too hard, but as quick as the lightning from tne
sky, and this although contrary to the English books, on
the ground that a salmon, if he rises once and fails to
touch the fly, will always come again. If, however, he
has tasted the unappetizing morsel, and has not been
hooked, for he is quick to spit it out, you will see him no
more. If you fail to hook a fish on the first rise, it is
well if you can keep your impatience under control, to
rest him by casting elsewhere a few times, and if you
fail to strike him on the third rise, change your fly.
Salmon are extremely particular and dainty in their
tastes, and it is never advisable to fish too long with one
fly unless they take it well.

The great rules are—keep out of sight, change your ©
flies and rest the pools. The best time of a clear day is
early and late, and in the midday heat not a boat nor a
line should disturb the water; in fact, a pool that a
canoe has crossed is ruined for the day, and when. there
is no rising, there is little good in casting. A pool that
is not disturbed at night would be found much better, as
a consequence, in the morning.

But after your fish is hooked, after he is played and
_ almost played out, after you have exhausted him, and
brought him skillfully and carefully to shore, he is not
yet in the pot; nor will he be unless you have an assis-
tant expert with the gaff. There are all. sorts of direc-
tions about this important operation, some authors saying:
a fish must be gaffed in the shoulder, others preferring
the tail, some the belly, and some the back, but, in fact,
one place is as good another; the main points are not to
miss nor graze him, and not to jerk so hard as to throw
THE SALMON. 105

him off the gaff. To prevent this, where you anticipate
finding only awkward aids, it is well to carry a gaff with
a small barb, like an ordinary hook. I have had the
indescribable pleasure of seeing my fish flung across
the boat, and dropped in the water on the other side.
The moment the fish is struck, the handle should be held
perpendicular,,so that he cannot flounce off.

The best size for this implement. is a length of nine
inches from. the end of the shank to the middle of the
bend, from the latter four inches in a straight line-to the
point, which should be delicate and sharp, and at least
two inches and three-eighths from the inner edge of the
shank opposite; the bend should swell out so as.to be
three inches: across at its widest, and the end of the
shank must be bent back and sharpened; the steel tapers
gradually from the point to a thickness of one quarter
of aninch. Being nothing more than a large hook, it
is easily carried, and when wanted for use, fastened. to
any suitable stick by driving in the projection on the
shank, and winding the whole with stout cord. For very
large salmon,.a stronger and larger gaff would be desir-
able, and for grilse a.smaller one.

When fish run, and throw themselves out of water,
some writers direct you to taughten your line; but I say,
heed them not. Your line is well out and sunk to some
distance, the very jump of the fish. will consequently
bring a great strain on the hook, without your aid, and
many a fish is lost by such usage. On the contrary, if
you: give to him as he leaps, you diminish the tension,
and then the quicker you take up the line after he has
fallen back, the better. If, on. the contrary, when he

5*
106 THE SALMON.

leaps he is near by you, and your line straight and out
of water, he will try and strike it with his tail to break
it, in which he may also be foiled by giving to him.
My experience is to this effect, and you will soon find
out, if the fish are large and strong, how hard it is to do
otherwise.

It has been said that four times the length of the rod
beyond the tip is the utmost length of line that can be
handled with dexterity ; it is not meant that more can-
not be cast, for I have often cast five times the length,
but with an effort that soon becomés wearisome, and, if
across a rapid current, without the requisite command.
It is best to fish down stream, if possible, as otherwise
your line sinks, and even in fishing across there will be
considerable slack line. This is a second reason for
rapid striking. There is another mode of managing a
line, which is sometimes called casting, and by which a
distance of eighty yards can be covered. The angler has
a rod as thick at the tip as one’s little finger, and a hair
line as thick as the tip. Of course no reel can be used,
as such a line would not run through the rings, or be:
contained on the barrel. The line tapers regularly to the
fly. Itis usually used in rapid water, and to cast, the
fisherman waives his rod from side to side, lifting as
much of it as possible clear of the water, and then
throws out strongly with an underhand motion. The
line rolls, as it were, raising itself from the water, as the
impetus advances, till the fly is taken up and jerked over,
so to speak, at an incredible distance. When a fish is
struck he is drawn in by hand. I have not tried this
proceeding sufficiently to speak positively, but think that
THE SALMON. 107

the heavy waxed lines now in general use would answer
to a comparative degree. It is a difficult though not
refined mode of fishing, and is the only way of-casting
eighty yards.

The following is a list of the principal salmon and
trout rivers of Canada and New Brunswick, with the
distances of the former from Quebec, and such informa-
tion as could be obtained concerning their character and
condition. Those marked in ¢talics have been leased

to private individuals, but the others are open to all
comers.

The Jacques Cartier is the only river near Quebec
which, at the present time, affords any salmon:
From Quebec to Murray Bayis . . 78 miles.
Here there is a river that furnishes a few salmon and
many fine trout.
From Murray Bay to the Saguenay is 44—120
There is excellent sea trout fishing in the Saguenay
and its tributary, the St. Marguerite, is a superior salmon
river.
River Escoumain.. . 28
Between it and the Suondiny are ‘lie five Bergeronnes,
and both furnish a few salmon and many trout.
Portneuf .. 2 ‘ . . 26
Plenty of trout and some giiindn,
Sault de Cochon ‘ .  « 2
Impassable for salmon, but affovatay excellent trout
fishing at its mouth.
LaVatl . . . . . 2
Superior salmon and trout river.
108 THE SALMON.

Bersamis . .  .« miles 24—84
Affording in its fetutariss many fine salmon; between
it and the La Val are the Colombia, Plover and Blanche,
all poor salmon streams.

Outardes . me sh : ‘ : . i
Manicouagan . . F : : - 16
Mistassini i - ‘ ‘ : . 12
Betscie . ° ‘ » 8

Of these rivers I< can obtain no satisfactory. informa-
tion..

Godbout . . ww «SS B26
A celebrated salmon river, one of the best in the
province.
Trinity .« 2 A - 15
Good salmon and seciif ight,
Little Trinity . : é s oe ew 10

Calumet ; - j , ; o: ie
Pentecost . ‘ - . 5 ‘ . 14
Not a salmon river.

St. Margaret . E - 86
One of the best salmon and re rivers.
Moisie ‘ . ‘ : . 94-108 — 364

Fine large salmon are taken in this river, and it. is
widely celebrated.
Trout ‘ ; : 4 : ; » OT
Manitou . : . . 85
Good trout fishing ; ibs saleion are obstructed by
falls.
Sheldrake . : ; * 6 «6  « 16

Magpie .. - 6 2+ » 28
Furnishes a few salmon.
THE. SALMON. 109

St. John . a ‘ s ow we Bi
An admirable salmon eet:
Mingan . ‘ ’ ‘i . 16—101—465.
Probably the best river in the province for salmon,
and excellent for trout.
Romaine . 3 9
An excellent stream fox both: calian wind Henk:
Wascheeshoo . ‘ - 4 ‘ . 58
Pashasheboo . a a . ‘ . 18
A few salmon.

Nabesippi ‘ a ee ee ee ee

Agwanus . : . . 5
A fair supply. of: saluaon.

Natashquan. ‘ ‘ . 14—106—571
Salmon fine and abundant.

Kegashka ‘ ¢ -« « « 2
Salmon impeded by falls,

Musquarro . . 3 - 15
Affords good salmon faking.

Washeecootai . ‘ ‘ A - - 12

Olomanosheebo 5 a é ‘ a AL

Coacoacho ; . 7 7 é . 18
Contains some salmon.

Etamamu ‘ - 3 ‘ 3 . 21

Fine salmon fishery.

Netagamu : . - @ «a6
A fine trout stream.

Mecattina : . < «= = os 4
Good salmon fishing.

HaHa . : << © & we

St. Augustine . «© « « + «+ 6
110 THE SALMON.

Affords many salmon.
Esquimaux . a . 14—149—720
An excellent salmon river, somewhat run down.

In New Brunswick there are salmon in the St. John
and its tributaries, but the best of the latter, the Nash-
waak, has been closed with an impassable dam. From
St. John it is easy to take the cars to Shediac, and cross
to Prince Edward’s Island, where there is magnificent
trout fishing, especially near Charlotte, and tolerable
accommodation ; or one can take the Quebec steamer to
Bathurst and fish the Nipisiquit, which is admitted to be
the best river in the province, or the Restigouche and its
tributaries, an excellent stream, but much injured by
spearing ; or the Cascapediacs, which furnish some sal-
mon and innumerable grilse. The Miramichi, between
Shediac and Bathurst, is a fine large stream.

The streams in Canada emptying into the St. Law-
rence from the south shore, are hardly worth mentioning
as salmon rivers, having been ruined by mill-dams, with
the exception of those that empty into Gaspé basin, but
they all afford superior trout fishing. I would here
remark, that where the name trout is mentioned in con-
nection with the British Provinces, the Salmo Trutta
Marina, or sea trout, is always intended ; and the sal-
mon fishing spoken of is fly fishing. The rivers that
empty into Gaspé basin, such as the Dartmouth, York
and St. John, are leased, as also the Bonaventure, that
flows into the Bay of Chaleurs.

As explicit directions for travelling through the
benighted regions called the British Provinces, the fol
THE SALMON, 111

lowing are given from a somewhat unwillingly extended
experience.

Take the night train or any route that will bring you
to Boston before half past seven a.m., for at that hour
the boat leaves for St. John, not St. Johns, which is in
Newfoundland. If you are too late, you may still, by
means of the cars, intercept the.same vessel at Port-
land. This boat does not leave daily, but generally
advertises in the New York and always in the Boston
papers. It touches at Portland, where you may take a
steamboat on its arrival to Calais, and proceed thence
by railroad to the Scoodic River, where there is fine
white, not sea, trout fishing, or stop at St. Andrews,
whence there is a railroad in progress to Woodstock, on
the St. John River. The Boston boat reaches St. John
in about thirty-two hours, or at three o’clock; the fare
is six dollars; the meals extra, and, consequently, extra
good.

The Waverley House, in St. John, kept by J. Scam-
mell, affords the best, though poor, accommodation, at a
reasonable price. A train leaves on the arrival of the
boat for Shediac, and makes the one hundred and ten
miles in six hours, at a fare of three dollars. From She-
diac a steamboat that connects with the train carries you
to Chatham in twelve hours for three dollars and fifty
cents, the meals being extra and infamous. At Shediac.
John Q. Adams keeps the Adams House, and will fur-
nish information by letter as to the time of the starting
of the boats. Bowser’s Hotel is the best in Chatham.
From Chatham to Bathurst, forty-five miles, you are
compelled to travel in a stage that only leaves three
112 THE SALMON,

times a week, and never on the arrival of the boat, and
will occupy ten hours of your time at a charge of three
dollars and a half; or you may take an extra for sixteen
dollars. If you hire one of Kelley, the stage proprietor,
make a tight bargain, for he is Biblical and takes in
strangers. In case you should be too late to reach
Bathurst the same day, or have leisure on your hands,
stop at the Half-way House on the’ Tabasintac, which
has the last syllable accentuated, and fish that night
and. the next morning for sea trout. They are taken
from ‘a horse-boat in abundance and of great: size.

In Bathurst there is a good hotel called the Welling-
ton, kept by Mr. Baldwin, with the efficient aid of Mary ;
and also a more private establishment, by Bela: Packard,
which is the customary resort of Americans. There is a
telegraph from St. John to: Bathurst, and Baldwin will
meet at Chatham any. guests that send him word, and
bring them to Bathurst for fourteen dollars. In the
latter place, Ferguson, Rankin & Co. will furnish all
the heavy outfit, such as pork, biscuit, butter, tea, sugar,
tobacco, and will have them ready put up if written to
beforehand. As it is customary on the Nipisiquit to
loan the guides blankets, the same firm keep them on
hand, and will lend them to those that buy stores of
them. Once or twice a month the Arabian leaves She-
diac and stops within a couple of miles of Bathurst, and’
if you can manage to suit your time to hers, you can go:
direct and be ticketed through for ten dollars. Her
days may be ascertained: at the office of the Boston boats,
but it is well to telegraph to Bathurst to have a canoe to
meet you, as otherwise you may have difficulty in reach-
THE SALMON, 113

ing town from the landing. The same steamer and its
associate, the Lady Head, run to Dalhousie, at the
mouth of the Restigouche, or a stage for that place
leaves Bathurst three times a week. The Lady Head
does not stop at Bathurst, on account of her draught of
water.

On the Nipisiquit it is customary to have a camp-
keeper or cook for the party, and two canoemen to each
angler ; they furnish the canoe and receive one dollar a
day each. The following are good men: John, Peter
and Bruno Chamberlain ; John makes a good fiy,, but is
sulky and willful; Bruno is lazy ; Ned Veno and David
Buchet, koth of whom are excellent and willing, and
Fabian Bodereau, who is a fair cook. To save your men
some heavy work, where you do not intend to fish the
Rough Waters, you drive with your stores to the Round
Rocks, the Pabineau Falls, or, if you please, even to: the
Grand Falls, but the latter part of the road is bad.

The only fishing on the Miramichi is above Boiestown,
and to. reach it you leave St. John in the night or day
boat for Fredericton, arriving there in eight hours at an
expense of one dollar anda half. The night boat runs
three times a week. The best house. in Fredericton is
the Barker House, kept by Mr. Fairweather, and in this
city you must get your supplies for the woods. The
stage leaves every Tuesday and Friday for Boiestown,
nominally at ten a.m., and reaches that collection of huts
nominally at six p.m. The fare is-two dollars and a half,
and the ordinary charge for an extra is ten dollars, but
remember the stage proprietor is Kelley. The best
tavern in Boiestown is kept by Avery, but about five
114 THE SALMON.

miles up the river, at Campbelltown, is a nice house
owned by William Wilson, and the true plan is either to
write to him to meet you at Fredericton, or drive over
to his place. He will engage your men, aid you with
the supplies, provide you with bread, besides making you
generally comfortable, and you have gained so much in
the ascent of the river. The stage from Boiestown runs
to Chatham, and by that means you may continue to
the Nipisiquit, but there is no reliance to be placed on
it, and an extra from Fredericton to Chatham, one hun-
dred and ten miles, costs thirty dollars. The stage fare
is seven, and there is no telegraph to Boiestown.

One of the most interesting ways of reaching the
various rivers of New Brunswick is by portaging from
the head-waters of one into those of another. For
instance, a steamboat leaves Fredericton semi-weekly,
when the water is not too low, for the Grand Falls on
the St. John; a few miles above, the Grand River
debouches, from the head-waters of which a short port-
age of a few miles takes you into the Waugan, one of
the branches of the Restigouche, or you may stop below
the Falls and ascend the Tobique, a noble river, full of
salmon, but which, strange to say, will not take the fly,
and from Lake Nictou, the source of the Tobique, you
can readily portage into Lake Nipisiquit, and by ,ascend-
ing the main forks of the latter, a short portage puts
you on the Upsalquitch, a branch of the Restigouche,
and abounding in salmon. Another confluent of the
St. John, the Shiktahauk, is crossed at its head by the
Royal Road, where a wagon can be had to convey your
baggage to a branch of the Southwest Miramichi, and
THE SALMON. 115

from Newcastle, at the mouth of the latter river, you
can ascend the Northwest Miramichi and strike the
Nipisiquit near the Grand Falls. These are but a few

_ of the simplest voyages that may be made, but a glance
at the map, or a talk with any old Indian guide, will
reveal many others. |
116 NEW BRUNSWICK.

CHAPTER VI.

NEW BRUNSWICK.

Ove bright moonlight night in the early part of Sum-
mer, a heavy wagon, drawn by two powerful horses, was
bowling along one of the dreary level roads of the
province of New Brunswick. It was loaded down with
trunks on the rack, barrels under the seats, that were
built on springs above the sides for that purpose, and
bundles and bags innumerable in the bottom, and two
long leathern cases that suggested salmon rods. It car-
ried three men; the driver, tall and spare, with a shrewd
eye, and long, curly, black hair, was turned half-way
round in the seat, assuming an attitude that combined
comfort with facility of conversation. On the back seat,
a middle aged gentleman, whose hair and beard were
silvered o’er, but whose eye was bright as in his earliest
youth, and a younger man of stout build with brownish
hair and beard. Their talk was of the forest, and many
thrilling tales of danger, or exciting ones of the chase,
were told; vivid descriptions of how the moose, the

_,caribou, the red deer, met his fate; stories of the tiger,
the wild boar, the rhinoceros and unwieldy elephant; or
peaceful description of killing the beautiful trout, the
fierce, striped bass, or the voracious mascallonge. The
time wore pleasantly away as they passed along between
NEW BRUNSWICK. 117

the sombre lines of spruce and hemlock and juniper, as
they ran into the deep shade or emerged into the open
moonlight till they came in sight of the Nashwaak,
seaming the dark earth like a vein of silver, when a glo-
rious view presented itself to their attention. Far away
as the eye could reach, stretched the valley of Nashwaak,
silent as the repose of death; not a sound but the rat-
tle of the wheels broke the still air, while the moon
bathed the rocks, the earth, the trees, with its uncertain

_jight, formed weird shapes out of the foliage, or cast
strange shadows across the road. Still on, however,
scarcely pausing—as every true sportsman must pause
before the beauties. of nature—the party were soon lost
in the shady descent that led toward the bank of the
stream, whose course they followed some miles, crossing
it beyond, over a high, substantial bridge. The road
then branched off, traversing the unbroken wilderness,
where for miles not a habitation was visible, till mid-
night found them amid a heavy shower at McCloud’s, the
half-way house from Fredericton to Boiestown.

The horses under the shed, a sound thumping on
the door brought out the host, who attended to the wants
of man and beast, and sent them on their way rejoicing,
as soon as the storm had abated. There was little vari-
ety in the scene; the road was mostly lével and good,
the forest was of the same dull character, with many
dead trunks towering up amid it; there were few houses
and no settlements, and the country was principally ove
vast plain. As the morning light began to streak the
east with grey, they came in sight of the peaceful Mira-
michi, and turning off from the main road across the
118 NEW BRUNSWICK.

Taxes River, followed the course of the larger stream, till,
nearly opposite a beautiful spring, where they had
stopped to water their horses, they turned into a barway,
and in a moment more reached Wilson’s, their prospec-
tive head-quarters.

Wilson’s habitation was a quaint-looking log house,
perched on the edge of a bank overhanging what is
called the interval, or fruitful stretch of level land lying
between the river and the hills, and its evident antiquity
bore testimony that it had belonged to one of the earliest,
settlers.

A well-stocked garden, an extensive barn, a large
drove of sheep and cows, suggested what an industrious
and comely wife and daughter confirmed, that Wilson’s
was a well-to-do family. ‘

As a general thing, the people of this region are of the
most short-sighted possible character; they live for the
present, and an easy way of making a dollar is irresistible,
though it may entail the final loss of ten. The country
is slowly going back to a savage condition; farmers,
instead of attending to their farms, speculate in lumber,
because it enriches one man in fifty; mortgage their
farms, which are sold under foreclosures to strangers and
allowed to grow up with weeds and bushes. Tens of
thousands of acres are in this condition, and are being
fast rendered irreclaimable. Instead of encouraging fish-
ermen to come and spend money among them, although
they admit it is about the only money they see, they
annoy and overcharge at such a rate that they have
driven away all but a few from Fredericton. Instea¢
of preserving and increasing the fish, they obstruct the
NEW BRUNSWICK. 119

channel entirely with nets, striving by one grand haul to
destroy the supply forever. To this general rule Wilson
is the only exception, and may be relied on, not only to
do whatever in reason is required of him, but to do it at
a moderate price. His only extravagant charge is for
driving to Fredericton to meet his guests.

The guides were waiting for us, and after making the
requisite preparations and passing a comfortable night
in the old log house, we started next day on our journey
toward the head-waters of the Miramichi. Our canoes
were made of the log of a tree, and familiarly called
dug-outs, and were admirably adapted to the purpose.
Being extremely long, sometimes thirty feet, and nar-
row, they offer every convenience for poling, draw
but little water, and are not injured by contact with a
rock, that would pierce the thin bark of the delicate
birch canoe, and will hold their way better against a
strong rapid. They are made of the trunk of some tow-
ering branchless pine-tree that the adventurous woods-
man has marked during the winter for his own, and
which, after being cut down, is transported to a conve-
nient place, where it is hewn into the shape of the outside
of the boat. Augur holes are bored in the bottom, and
pegs, two inches long, are driven, to answer for guides as
to thickness. The inside is then roughly hewn away,
till the pegs are reached, when it is smoothed off, being
left two inches thick at the bottom, and a half inch at the
gunwale. Slender knees are introduced at proper dis-
tances to prevent its warping under the sun; a brace is
fastened across from gunwale to gunwale, near the stem
and stern, and the boat is complete. It is worth about
120 NEW BRUNSWICK.

twelve dollars, and having neither braces nor thwarts,

but an open spacé its entire length, is convenient for

holding a long rod, and being steadier under foot, offers

many advantages over the birch canoe. It is particularly

excellent in descending a shallow river, where occasional |
contact with rocks is inevitable; but is too heavy to

portage comfortably. For rapid travel, either up or down

stream, it is invaluable.

Our baggage was stowed, a comfortable seat made
with the end of the tent upon the bottom of the canoe,
our rods were rigged out for an occasional cast, and we
commenced the ascent of the “ Smiling Water.” There
had been heavy and continuous rains, and quite a freshet
had now changed its ordinary placid exterior into one of
angry turbulence. The river poured down fierce and
wild, crested with foam and discolored with sand and ~
decayed matter. But we made swift progress; starting
five miles above Boiestown, we soon passed the last
settlement, and entering among the mountains, amid
which flows the upper stream, trusted ourselves alone
to the dangers of the wilderness, to the mercy of the
black-flies for our comfort, and to our skill as sportsmen
for our support.

Ten months of close confinement in the city, years
amid the horrors of civilization, had well prepared us
to appreciate a return to man’s natural state of savage
life; long contact with vice and folly had made us eager
to taste once more of truth and purity, the communion
with nature uncorrupted and unsullied; to feel the air
blow through the waving trees instead of down narrow
streets; to hear the water rippling over its native bed,
NEW BRUNSWICK. 121

aad not through Croton pipes; to see the sun shine from
out the blue sky, instead of being reflected amid murk
and smoke from heated bricks.

The spruce and fir-trees stretched in solid mass like a
green wall on either side; occasionally, a white pine
loomed above them, or a birch, with its satin bark,
broke the dull hue; or where the landscape was more
open, the graceful elm or willow stood forth in solitary
beauty ; and the juniper, with its endless names of hack-
matac, tamarack, larch or cypress, waved its weird arms
aloft; or the light, quivering poplar, with its never-
resting leaves, cast an uncertain shade.

The weather had been changeable all day, occasionally
bright and pleasant, the next moment dark and lowering
—now the sun shining bright and warm over the hill-
sides, then the rain driving in spiteful showers and veil-
ing them in mist. The storm no sooner forced on our
overcoats than the sunshine persuaded them off. Toward
night, when heavier and blacker clouds obscured the
sky, we determined to camp, and chose a point opposite
a little tributary rivulet called Sandy Brook.

That evening and the next day were passed complet-
ing our camp equipage of tables, chairs, basins, and
various little articles, and in waiting for the river to fall.
During this time one of those pleasant incidents occurred
that are intensely enjoyed in rough woodsman’s life; two
gentlemen who had been up the river and were returning,
stopped and dined with us. There was a grand discussion
over flies, resulting in a mutual exchange, and a general
mourning over the condition of the water, with, how

6
122 NEW BRUNSWICK.

ever, the encouragement that the freshet had destroyed
the nets and let the fish up to the higher grounds.

Next day We killed our first fish of the season. I had
gone above the island at the head of the pool opposite
our camp, and was fishing slowly down, taking occasion-
ally a brook trout, when there came a heavier rise, a
louder plash, and a fierce run that made my reel discourse
sweetly. The fish had struck me in the broken water,
and it was uncertain what he was till suddenly he sprang
twice his length out of water, showing the silvery sides
and gleaming scales of the lovely grilse; again and
again he sprang in air, making the water fly as he fell
back, and doing his best to break the line or shake out
the hook. Bravely he fought, taking advantage of the
current to run out line, and rubbing against rocks to cut
it through? Jn vain, foiled at each attempt, his strength
rapidly diminishing, he was slowly brought nearer and
nearer, till a dexterous blow of the gaff finished the
struggle.

Joyful at the good omen, we hastened to our camp,
and were met by my companion, Dalton, who proudly
exhibited a similar trophy. There was a grand supper
that night, and strong hopes that the flood would abate,
hopes that were destined to a cruel disappointment when
next day the stream was found td be higher than ever,
and heavy clouds portended a second deluge.

Our next camp was at Still Water Brook, a,name that
the present condition of that streamlet strongly belied.
We did not, however, remain long, our sport being con-
fined to grilse, and not many of those, and when an Eng-
lish officer, who had been fishing above, called to say he
NEW BRUNSWICK. 123

had taken all the fish he wanted at a station further on,
we broke up camp at once, to the great disgust of our
‘lazy cook, who thought he had cut his “ sprunghungle,”
or stick that supports the kettle over the fire, for the last
time. We pushed on to Burnt Hill, a famous camping-
ground among all those that fish the Miramichi, and
there, on the open point near the rock at whose base is
the deep pool where salmon lie when the water is warm
we established our sylvan home for the last time.

Burnt Hill is so named from having been burnt over,
years ago, and is still a mass of dead and blackened
trunks, that tower in fantastic shapes toward the sky.
Next morning, having selected my choicest cariboo fly,
Abraham pushed the canoe across the boiling torrent,
so that I could fish near the rocky shore opposite. Hav-
ing made several casts toward the bank, he swung the
canoe in, and, running its nose on a rock, gave me a
chance to fish the centre of the channel. I had hardly
cast, when from out the curling wave rushed a mighty
monster, which gleamed a moment in the sunshine and
disappeared. I felt a heavy, dull strain on my rod, the
fish swam deep and seemed unconscious of what had
happened. Then, suddenly aroused to his danger, a
magnificent salmon’ rushed down-stream and vaulted
high out of water. Abraham glanced at me; I returned
the look, but not one word was spoken. The fish
returned to his former station, as though disdaining a
struggle with a fragile cord and contemptible fly, and
remained there some moments, heavily swimming round
and round. Suddenly he became alarmed, and away
he went, thirty yards at least, the line whistling through

—_
124 NEW BRUNSWICK.

the rings and the reel hissing with the speed. He made
a splendid leap and paused.

I had just time to tell Abraham to swing his boat off
the rock whefe she was resting, when the fish started
again. Down he darted; the rod bent, the line flying
through the water, and after him came the pursuers.
He hesitated an instant above the worst rapids, and then
sped down them; once in.a while I could see him amid
the foam and flying spray, as he rolled himself half out
of water. over some heavy wave; but my attention
was occupied in keeping the line clear of rocks, and not
exerting too much strain upon it. Admirably did
Abraham handle the canoe. He was alone; the water
seethed and boiled round us broken into a mass of fierce
waves, small cascades and gleaming foam. It poured
with raging current over high bowlders, and swept be-
tween narrow rocks. He stood erect in the stern, his
eye taking the measure of every falls, the strength of
every eddy; he swung the canoe’s head first one way
then another, easing her down over the higher waves,
that, curling against the stream, broke over the bow in
mimic showers, and pushing strongly through the cire-
ling eddies. Not a rock did he touch, not a moment did
the boat escape from perfect command, and when we
were launched upon the quiet bosom of the deep pool at
the foot of Burnt Hill Rapids, the fish was on the line.
We each drew a long breath and again exchanged
glances. It was a beautiful spot to kill a fish. The
water, all white and raging above, formed a broad eddy,
that washed the base of the rock on which I now stood.
Although there was still a strong current in the centre,
NEW BRUNSWICK. 125

an expanse of clear water spread out at our feet, into
which, after each rush, the fish could be easily led, and
where his mad leaps were the only risk. It was our
first fish, and I exercised. the utmost care; not till he
was almost dead did I force him to the surface, where
Abraham, with one blow of his gaff, brought our prize
to land.

What a beauty she was! The small, delicate head
pronounced her a female, the destined parent of myriads
cut off in her prime. The brillianey of her flashing
scales gave token that not long since had she been roam-
ing free from danger along the shores of the seacoast,
and her broad back and deep chest announced her heavy
weight. Glorious in her outward appearance, our keen
appetites pictured to our imaginations the rich red flesh
in layers, with flakes of pearly fat between, the delicate
thin sides of the stomach, the depth of solidity in her
broad back. Our thoughts dwelt for a moment on the
fine juicy flavor her fifteen good pounds would furnish
for many a meal. But above all did we recollect with
pride how well both of us had done in killing the first
salmon in the Miramichi.

Mr. Dalton had been watching the contest from the
bank opposite, and we returned together to the camp,
where libations were duly poured forth in honor of our
first capture, and preparations were made for a grand
entertainment.

That evening around the fire, after supper was finished,
and the genial pipe was soothing as well as invigorating
our minds, and after several personal adventures had
deen related, Duncan commenced the following history of
19A NEW BRUNSWICK.

THE GHOST OF DEADMAN’S LANDING.

“You saw that point of land we came by the other
day, where I told you a dead man was carried out from
the woods? Well, I was there when he was killed.
We had been logging in the woods, and doing pretty
well till we tried to draw out an uncommon heavy stick
of timber. Sam Masters was with us—we used to call
him Swearing Sam, from a bad habit he was given to—
and Sam had taken a great idea to have that stick of
timber taken out before night; but the horses were tired
and it was late, and after we had dragged it part of the
way all but Sam proposed to leave it till to-morrow.
But Sam insisted that he was not going to give up, and
when we all agreed to quit, he got mad and swore he
would have that timber out alone if he had to go to
hell for it, and work till the day of judgment. We
tried to persuade him off, but stay he would, and we left
him with the horses and returned to our camp, which we
had made at the landing. After supper was finished,
and it began to be late, we became anxious about Sam,
and when he did not. arrive, at near midnight, all hands
set out to look him up.

“We had not much trouble to find the horses ; they felt
cold and hungry, and were neighing for their supper,
but were surprised to see the log rolled off the truck,
and Sam gone. But the next thing we noticed was
Sam’s head just out from the edge of the log, that lay
across his body. It was an awful sight; the moon was
shining bright on his face, that was turned up toward
NEW BRUNSWICK. . 127

the sky, but all swollen and discolored, with the eyes
wide open and starting out of their sockets, and his
tongue sticking out of his mouth, and the blood frozen .
round his nostrils and the corners of his lips. He must
have been dead for hours. We had a hard time to roll
the log off, and then he was mashed all out of shape, so
we carried him the best way we could to the shanty, and
next day wrapped him in a blanket and took him down
the river. His wife was all struck of a heap when she
saw him, for Sam_was a good husband; if he did swear
more than he ought, he never swore at her.”

“He would have been squelched sooner if he had,”
put in Dalton, sotta voce.

“We felt pretty bad,” continued Duncan; “ but after
afew days had to go back and finish hauling the logs,
for we had a lot cut. It was cold weather, and the wind
howled through the pines till sometimes, at night, we
almost thought we heard hallooing in the woods, but no
one cared to go out and see. About two weeks after our
return, I happened to leave my axe where I was chop-
ping, and as snow had begun to fall pretty fast, and it
might be snowed over, I went back after it. I had
forgotten precisely where it was left, and lost a good deal
of time looking about, all the while the snow coming
harder and harder, so that the track was soon covered.
That was not much matter, for I knew the country well ;
but it was growing dark, and the snow blinded me, so
that I could not see plainly.

“You may believe I did not delay any; but after hur-
rying on as fast as possible for an hour or two, thought
things lcoked strange; the trees grew thick and the
128 e NEW BRUNSWICK.

ground rough and steep, and I could not tell where [
was. I séarched about for some landmark, but it was
almost dark, and after trying in vain, and having a heavy
overcoat with me, but no matches, I was about to crawl
under the roots of a dead tree and make ‘the best of it,
when I heard somebody shouting in the distance.
“There is no mistake, but I was glad, and sung out
back, and clambered over the trees and stones toward
the voice; but what was my surprise, on approaching,
to see our own team, and one of the boys driving. They
had no intention of hauling another log, and must have
been foolish to think of it in that snow; but, stranger
than all, when I called, did not stop or take any notice.
To tell the truth, I began to feel mighty queer, especially
as the driver was shaped uncommon like Sam, and I
suddenly remembered that it was that night a month ago
when he hauled his last stick of timber. I followed
slowly along and never said a word; the driver, whoever
he was, was riding on the log, and now and then his
voice shouted out what sounded in the storm mighty like
a curse. Suddenly the drag struck a stump, the horses
made a spring, the log started, the driver tried to jump,
but slipped, and the log fell on him with crushing force.
There was an awful shriek in the next blast that drove a
shower of snow in my eyes, and when I looked again,
horses, log and man were gone. I knew well enough
where I was then, and did not take long to reach the
camp, when the boys hardly knew me, I was so white
and dazed like.”
“Tet us see,” said Abraham, holding his chin in a
thoughtful way; “it was after that you swore off liquor?”
NEW BRUNSWICK. 129

“Yes,” said Robert. “The other boys hardly knew
ithe liquor cask they had left in the woods next day, if I
have heard right.”

“You need not laugh, boys,” said Duncan, solemnly ;
“there is no fun in seeing a ghost, and I had not taken
more than a few drinks. Besides, you know how, next
year, when Jake, and Dick, and some others were in the
same camp, they heard Sam’s old chest, that we had left
there, creak as though some one had sat on it, and how
the shanty door was taken off the hinges and held
upright in the middle of the floor. And the black dog
that left no track in the snow, but used to run along the
ridge pole of moonlight nights, when nobody was in the
shanty; and, finally, how the roof was all taken off
when Tom’s party was there, and although it was covered
with snow, not a drop fell inside. No, no, spirits are
no laughing matters.”

“ Especially prime spirits,” suggested the cook.

“Jamaica or Holland, but I never heard of New
Brunswick spirits before,” said Robert.

“ Well, I can just tell you one thing,” said Duncan,
aroused; “there is not one of you dare sleep in that
shanty alone. Come, I will pole any of you down there
to-morrow that would like to try. Who will go?”

A dead silence fell on the party, for, truth to tell,
though bold enough round the fire together, the dwellers
on the Miramichi are a good deal given to superstition,
and not one of the party but some time or other had
fancied he heard Sam’s ghost shouting to his team of a
stormy night near the landing.

“ Well,” said Abraham, slowly, “I never saw but one

6*
130 NEW BRUNSWICK.
ghost. It was a moonlight night, with a little snow on
the ground, and I was alone, crossing a cleared lot
where the stumps stood pretty thick, when I noticed,
crouched down behind one of them, a figure of some
sort that looked like an old woman. It had no bonnet
or hat, nothing but a cap on its head; it wore a long,
tattered dress, that blew about in the wind, while I could
just make out a pair of thin, white arms; but her face
was black as a coal. It is no use to say I was not
scared, for I think I was. There were some crazy people
about at that time, who had escaped from the madhouse ;
but I was pretty sure I could outrun any of them, ’spe-
cially a woman, and I knew it was no use running from
ghosts, so I concluded the best thing to do was to keep
right along and pretend to take no notice; but, do my
best, I could not keep my eyes off the old woman. I
tried to whistle, but not a sound would come. I only
blew a little, and not very steady at that. I tried to
sing, but the first note I uttered made me jump ten feet ;
I thought it was somebody else’s voice, as sure as fate. I
had sidled off as far as I could on account of a gully
there was, and did not like to go down that for fear she
should think I was afraid. The distance between us
was growing less and léss, and as-I watched her sharper
than ever, she appeared to make one or two moves, and
then stop; but all of a sudden, she jumped up, threw off
her clothes, and started after me. I uttered one yell, and
turned ; but, as luck would have it, caught my foot in a
root under the snow, and rolled headlong down the steep
side of the gully.

“T do not know what I said, I think I prayed; but I
NEW BRUNSWICK. 131

made considerable noise, anyway, and poked my head
into a bush, and tried to burrow under the snow. This
lasted some time; but hearing nothing more, and not
finding myself killed, my courage returned; I took ou
my head, and slowly crawled up the bank. Peering
carefully over the edge, I saw a stump where the old
woman had been crouching, burnt at the top, with some
snow on it; there was a dead bush and roots at the
bottom, while a little further off lay a quantity of dead
birch bark, waving about in the wind. ‘ Abe,’ said I
to myself, ‘you have been-an awful fool to take a fired
stump, a little snow, and some birch bark for a ghost.
Never do so again.’ And I never have, and have never
been so scared from that day to this.”

After a hearty laugh at Abraham’s fright, Robert was
ealled upon, and responded as follows :

“JT cannot tell you a ghost story, but one of as scared
a man as ever was seen. It happened at this very place,
too, when we were camped on this spot, and was brought
to my mind by what you were reading to-day of the man
hunting a grizzly bear, and leaving off because the track
got too fresh. Jim Baker was with us. He had lived
most of his life in the settlements, and had only just |
come among us, but could play the fiddle and sing
a song, and must have had a good ear for music, for
among the first things he did was to learn to call moose.
He was uncommonly proud of the performance, and
though he had never seen a moose, promised to keep the
camp in meat. Well, he kept calling all the time, and
sure enough one day, while we were camped here, a bull ©
answered.
132 NEW BRUNSWICK.

“ A good hunter might call till he was grey before he
could bring a moose in broad daylight right up to the
camp; but it was a fool’s luck, and sure enough we soon
heard him rapping through the bushes, and then jump
into the brook and begin wading down. Jim had out
the gun, and started off to crawl along the edge in the
bushes to meet him. We could see them both; Jim
crept along as fast as he could at first, and the bull came
faster yet down the stream without showing a sign of
fear. Soon Jim began to go slower, and finally stopped
altogether, while the moose kept right on toward him,
till he was within fifty yards, when he paused and took
a general survey. Jim raised the gun, but when he did
so the animal seemed to have his curiosity aroused, and
advanced several steps toward Jim, who lowered his gun,
and backed a few paces till the moose stopped again.
Jim again raised the gun, and again the moose-advanced
and Jim retreated. This went on till the moose became
satisfied, and with a snort bounded into the bushes and
was gone. When Jim came back we asked him why he
did not shoot, and he said we need not think he was
afraid ; he intended to shoot, but did not know how the
gun carried ball.”

The next day my friend killed his first salmon, and
strange to say, thus we continued to the end, each catch-
ing precisely the same number of fish. The days were
beautifully warm, and rather giyen to weeping, but fresh
and bracing; whereas the nights were deliciously cool, |
almost too cold for Summer, and demanded plenty of
warm blankets. Living in the most primitive but com-
fortable style, feeding off a rough table, and often cook
NEW BRUNSWICK, 183

ing half the dinner ourselves, but with a glorious feeling
of entire independence, the heavens above, the earth
beneath, and all nature round us, we had a splendid time,
and many fish came to our net.

Thus the pleasant days flew by; the sport ever
honest, manly, invigorating and exciting, varying in
luck, at times abundant in its yield, and then utterly
unproductive—the uncertainty added zest; while the
evenings and hot middays were enlivened with the story,
joke or latest novel. Many an idle hour, when the sun
shone too resplendent for the hope of sport, did we
while away, the men seated or stretched at length in
various picturesque attitudes, and one of us reading
aloud. But the time came when this was to end, and on
the eleventh day the edict was promulgated to break up
camp and return. 2

The tent fell and was packed, the pots and pans were
huddled together, our camp stores stowed, and we reém-
barked for the descent of the river. Keeping rods
ready for an occasional cast, we swept along; the water
was high, our men were good boatmen, the canoes were
strong, and we rushed through the foaming torrent at a
gallant rate.

At Rocky Bend my friend struck five fine grilse suc-
cessively, and lost all but one, much to his chagrin. He
laid it to the size of his hooks, alleging they were too
large; but what genius will arise to explain how it is that
salmon break away without any severe strain on, or
damage to, the tackle. Is it a defect in the shape of the
hook? If so,.should it bend to one side, or ¢urve in or out
at the point? Or is it in the force of striking, or place

.
134 NEW BRUNSWICK.

where the hook holds? The matter is so complex, that
the most careful investigation has left me even without
a theory. Some of my friends swear by one of the
above plans, others by another; I have tried them all,
and still the fish escape as freqnently as ever.

As we approached a well-remembered spot where I
had taken a fine grilse in ascending, Abraham slowly
said : \

“Take care as we come down to this pool, for J am
like the man that once shot a bear at a cleared spot just
below, and whenever afterward he came to the same
place, he clambered on the highest stump, and looked
around to see whether there was not another bear.
Wherever we took one fish, I always expect to take
another.”

I told him it was somewhat the same with me, but in
that instance we were doomed to disappointment—there
was no second bear.

At Sandy Pond we made our camp for the night, as
my friend had never seen a fish killed with the spear,
and, although admitting its unsportsmanlike character,
wished to experience how it was done.

When darkness had settled down, our men kindled a
flaming fire of pine knots, in an iron basket attached to
a pole that projected from the bow of the canoe, and
seating my friend amidships between them, pushed off.
They pulled against the stream, the bright light bringing
out the stones at the bottom of the water in strong relief,
exposing everything within a radius of twenty feet.
Behind it stood the spearsman, erect, his quick eye
glancing in every direction, the firelight falling upon
NEW BRUNSWICK. 135

his reddened visage and illuminating his many graceful
attitudes. With rapid motion he swung the spear from
side to side as any passing object attracted his attention,
ready for the death-dealing blow. With perfect facility
he kept command of the boat, shoving her bow from the
rocks and guiding it through the proper channel ; occa-
sionally the spear was sent glancing through the wae
and in a moment a grilse brought struggling to the sur-
face and thrown into the bottom of the canoe, where the .
fire rays were reflected from his scales like the liquid
gleam of the diamond.

It was a picturesque sight, the waving flame, the
active spearsman, the graceful canoe, and the intense
darkness around; but it was cruel and barbarous, and
my friend desisted before many fish had suffered.

Next day returned us safe and sound to Wilson’s hos-
pitable log mansion, where a hearty welcome awaited
us. Our extra stores were divided among the men, a
farewell spoken, the team once more harnessed, and we
set out to join the stage at Boiestown for Chatham, on
the road to the Nipisiquit.

A strange place is Boiestown ; built by an American
named Boies, it is a mere collection of unpainted. shanty-
like houses but with Yankee shrewdness, located upon
a fine stream of never-failing water, with excellent mills
and water power, it might have been a thriving place
had not Boies, its presiding spirit, met with reverses.
The maelstrom of lumber speculation had ingulfed him,
and with him the prosperity of the town. There was no
native capable of filling his place, and the glory of Boies
town had departed.
136 NEW BRUNSWICK.

The stage was due at six o’clock, but at six o’clock it
did not come, nor at seven, eight, nine nor ten. We told
Wilson to return for us in the morning, and retired to
rest in the nearest tavern, leaving word to be called
when it did come.

At midnight there was a pounding at the door an-
nouncing the arrival of the conveyance that was to carry
us and our baggage, two heavy trunks, seventy miles. It
was a light one horse-wagon. We went to bed again,
and next morning found the stage-driver still at Boies-
town, having turned out his horse to graze.

Wilson, however, soon arrived, and we started on that
dreary road, following the descent of the Miramichi to
its mouth. There is one, and but one, pretty view in
the entire seventy miles, and that is as you ascend the
first mountain beyond Boiestown. Looking back, the
peaceful valley that we had just left, stretching away
to our camping-ground, lay basking in the sunlight.
In the distance, scarcely visible among the trees, were
the few houses that compose Campbelltown ; nearer was
the straggling village of Boiestown, and at our feet ran
the placid river, leaving broad intervals upon its banks,
and meandering between smiling islands. The hay was
ripening in the meadow, the oats were still luxuriant in
their fresh green, the bushes lined the occasional fences
or marked out the narrow swamps, while here and there
were dotted the majestic white pine, the towering spruce,
the noble elm or the graceful willow, and a dead tree now
and then stretched its ungainly limbs toward the clouds.

Beyond, however, we fell into one dull, dreary routine ;
civilization was behind us, the few farms once cultivated
NEW BRUNSWICK. 137

were falling back into their savage state, the houses
tumbling down, the barns in their last stages of dilapida-
tion, everywhere windows broken out, doors off their
hinges, huge cracks in roof or walls, told of general
decay. The people had fled, no one knew whither ; and
of the few that were left, the stupidity, avarice and
extortion were incredible. They impose upon and annoy
travellers and fishermen till they have almost driven
them away. The stages fail to run or to connect as
they undertake to do. No one appears to know their
times of starting or arriving. Boats advertise to leave
on days when they never have left, to stop at places that
are not laid down on the map, but are colloquially
applied to an entire district; and omit places where they
do stop. No man knows anything except his own indi-
vidual business, and but little of that. The inhabitants
mainly draw their support from the river, and yet are
busy day and night endeavoring to ruin it; the nets
from opposite shores lap over one another or reach from
bank to bank, and are set week in and week out, while
there is a fish running; the smallest mesh is used, small
enough to capture trout or herring. The few fish that
do reach the spawning beds are chased with the merci-
less spear without cessation till long after they are worth-
less as food. Yet the people think the river has improved
because the laws are partially enforced at its mouth.
Netters complain of the spearers, and the spearers of the
netters, but neither do anything but harm. The upper
stream is alive with nets, although netting should be per-
mitted nowhere above tide water. 2
The only crops of the region are potatoes, oats and
1388 NEW BRUNSWICK.

hay; for nine months there is rigorous winter, and for
three months cold weather. The great productions are
black flies, midgets and mosquitoes. The Lord help
such a people, for the people will never help themselves.
Let my blessing remain with the land; I shall never
return for it.

The river itself is not only lovely to contemplate but
would afford to reasonable beings abundant support. In
May and June the Gaspereau or alewives, a species of
herring, Alosa Tyrannus, make their appearance in
myriads, and ascend to the lakes to spawn ; in June and
July the beautiful sea trout appear in shoals and urge’
their course to the head-waters and the cool brooks; in
July and August come the splendid salmon, struggling
against every impediment that the wit of man, or want
of wit, can place in their way, to perpetuate their species
for that foolish man’s support, and build their nests in
the broad sandy pools. The lively, energetic grilse
come last, fighting vigorously to reach their sylvan
homes. Not one of all these races is taken fairly or
properly, nor when his destruction will do most good
and the least harm.

Having dined at Decantelon’s, we reached Lynch’s by
dark, where we supped and passed the night, and next
day, after breakfasting at Magee’s, arrived at New-
castle by nine in the morning. Seeing a boy, my friend
inquired ;

“ Boy, when does the stage leave that runs to New-
castle ?”

“ A’most atiy time; one has gone, but there will be
another going in an hour or two.”
NEW BRUNSWICK. 139

“Where does it start from? We must inquire for our-
selves, I see.”

“Oh, anywhere round the streets; up one street and
down another.”

“Now that cannot be,” continued my friend sternly ;
“it must start from some place, and we do not wish to
miss it.”

“Well, it will be along; it goes all around.”

“Tt has to cross that ferry, I believe,” said my friend,
almost savagely.

“Yes,” said the boy.

“We will wait there where it cannot miss us.”

“Why, there it comes now; don’t you see it on the
other side of the river?”

Sure enough, there it was; and from that moment it
“never escaped our eye. There was a post-office near by.

“ Postmaster,” said my friend, “as you must know, on
account of your official position, will you tell me when
the Princess Royal leaves Chatham for Shediac.”

“Oh, yes; every Monday and Friday. It is advertised
in the paper.”

“ Now there is some satisfaction about this,” and out
came his note-book. ‘“ Every Monday and Friday—ah,
yes, the paper says Why, the paper says Monday
and Thursday !” ;

“Impossible! So it does; why she never sails on
Thursdays. There must be some mistake.”

“Somewhere no doubt,” said my friend, despondingly,
returning the note-book; nor was he much relieved by
being afterwards informed by the stage-driver that she
sailed neither Thursday nor Friday, but only Monday.

”

 
140 NEW BRUNSWICK.

At Chatham, Mrs. Bowser received us hospitably and
noisily, and there we met some good sportsmen and fine
fellows. The sportsmen are the salt of New Brunswick
earth; they have not a trait in common with the other
inhabitants, but are jovial, friendly and open-hearted.
One cannot know too many nor see too much of them.
We owed them many thoughtful attentions, which we
will repay to them or others of the race of fishermen,
passing on the obligation.

Forty-five more miles of weary road, crossing in its
course the Tabasintac, that splendid trout stream, and
we reached Bathurst, where we found the guides await-
ing us at the Wellington House, having received our
telegram, and next day we began “life in the woods”
once more.

Our camp was pitched at the Round Rocks, the lowest
fishing station on the Nipisiquit, whither we drove with
our luggage in a wagon, and met the canoes. Our rods
were hastily put together, and in Rock Pool, at the
second cast, I took a fine grilse. Others followed, and
next day came the salmon. Splendid fellows just from
the sea, their scales resplendent with the reflected light of
their ocean homes; solid, strong and brave, leaping
again and again, madly disdaining restraint, and fighting
fiercely till the last. The water was strong; in some
places the rapids were impassable. Sad to tell, the fish
knew it, and alas, too often darted down them, whisking
their tails in joy at their recovered freedom. Our sport
was magnificent.

After fishing the Round Rocks and the Bush Falls, we
ascended the river to the Pabineau Falls, where we
NEW BRUNSWICK. 141

paused only to’ exchange friendly greetings with two
fellow fishermen, and continuing through the dark, silent
waters of the Bittabock, dined at the Middle Landing,
where the stream pours seething in its narrow channel
between high rocky banks, and where it is said to be six
fathoms deep. We passed another angler at the Chain
of Rocks, and reached the Grand Falls and pitched our
tent on its precipitous shores by sundown.

Wild indeed is the scenery at the Grand Falls, the
highest point the salmon reach. The falling water, in
long ages, has worn away a channel between high bluffs,
and now, in ordinary seasons, pours through a narrow
gorge that once could be leaped across, but which has
been blasted to admit the passage of timber. The sheet
of water falls in a mass of foam some forty feet, the spray
rising in volumes, and producing in the summer’s sun a
beautiful mist rainbow. The granite rocks have been
worn in deep holes by revolving bowlders, and in winter
the whole chasm, filled with ice and water, must be
grand and impressive in extreme.

There is a smaller, second fall, which the salmon occa-
sionally try to leap; but they spawn in the pebbly beds
below, the whole course of the stream, especially at the
basin a short distance from the falls.

The principal natural fly of the Nipisiquit is about
three-quarters of an inch long, has a yellow body and
orange tip, two short whisks and two long, yellow
antenne, six thick yellow legs, a large, black head, a
thick yellow body with nine rings, and four retealetod,
dull yellowish, transparent wings. They are not very
abundant, but there are many small nocturnal flies, that .
will be drawn together with a light in swarms.
142 NEW BRUNSWICK.

It is extremely interesting to stand on the rocks over-
hanging the river and watch the salmon, their every
motion distinctly visible, and their numbers readily
counted. When one is casting the fly, his companion
can see the fish move to take it, and call out when to
strike. Salmon seem to rise very slowly and deliberately
and can be observed of a bright day together in crowds,
holding their own against the current with a scarcely
perceptible effort. Not one in a hundred will notice the
fly; ordinarily nothing but the fins are in motion, but
occasionally an individual will give a flirt and turn up
his side, which flashes like silver through the water.

We fished the Camp, the Falls, the Rock and Cooper’s
Pools with great success; the fish were numerous, fine
conditioned, large and strong. We had many a fierce
contest; often was our line run out for seventy yards; the
fish made splendid leaps and vigorous rushes, but we lost
very few, as there was but one bad place. That was
below the Falls Pool, where a stake had caught in the
middle of the current; I found its lsnality by losing a
fine grilse and a caste line.

The days wore on most pleasantly; salmon occupied
all our thoughts. The first thing in the morning we
looked for salmon, then we fished for salmon, then we
breakfasted on salmon, and then again fished for them;
then made flies to catch them, next dined on them, again
fished for them, and then supped off them, and lastly
dreamed of them. But the happiest and longest of sum-
mer days must end; our time came to rettirn, and the
camp was struck.

The river is quite evenly divided between the various
stopping-places, and it is almost exactly three miles
NEW BRUNSWICK. 143

between each. There are six good fishing places: the
Grand Falls, Middle Landing, Bittabock, Pabineau Falls,
Round Rocks and Rough Waters.

We stopped at our original camp, the Round Rocks
and there we struck our last fish. My friend hooked
in the middle of the current a noble specimen, that gave
such splendid play that I laid down my rod to witness
the contest. The bright sides of the fish, as he leaped
again and again out of water, proved that he was fresh
run and strong, an impression his fierce rushes confirmed.
He was played with great care and delicacy; but alas!
suddenly darted across the current, took a turn around a
rock, and returning passed round another. All hope was
given up, but when the canoe was skillfully pushed across
after him, he was found to be still on and the line nninjured
by the smooth rocks. My friend, greatly rejoiced, had
another severe contest, and foiled two determined efforts
at escape down an impassable rapid, and when compelled
to follow him through some very rough water, did it in a
masterly style, standing erect in the canoe, which was
ably handled by the two Chamberlains, and guiding the
fish through the safest channel. Nearly an hour had
been expended, and the fish, almost exhausted, made one
last effort to reach the next rapid, and being prevented,
came alongside, feebly turning over and over. My friend
unfortunately had put on a double leader and could not
reel up short, so the salmon lay deep under water, dimly
seen, when John attempted to gaff him. At that instant
the fish turned, the gaff slipped, he made a rush into the
current, and one cry from my friend, “There, he’s off,”
told the tale. The line sprang up into the air, we looked
144 NEW BRUNSWICK.

at one another in silence; the occasion was too sad for
words. My friend sat down upon the rocks in despair;
I felt for, but had no power to console him. At last,
slowly and sadly, he broke the mournful silence: “ Let
us go home,” he said; and we went.

Good bye, lovely Nipisiquit, stream of the beautiful
pools, the fisherman’s elysium; farewell to thy merry,
noisy current, thy long quiet stretches, thy high bluffs,
thy wooded and thy rocky shores. Long may thy music
lull the innocent angler into day dreams of happiness.
Long may thy deep holes afford secure havens of safety
for the salmon, where they can bid defiance to the rapa-
cious net and murderous spear. Long may thy romantic
scenery charm the eye and gladden the heart of the artist
and welcome the angler to a happy sylvan home. And
often may I visit thee, beautiful Nipisiquit !
WHITE TROUT OF THE “SCOODIAC. 145

CHAPTER VII.

WHITE TROUT OF THE SCOODIAC, OR ST. CROIX.

I am unable to give a scientific description of these
beautiful and delicious fish, and believe they have never
been properly described. They however closely resemble
a dwarfed salmon, and have been supposed to be these
fish landlocked, prevented, by a natural or artificial
obstruction, from completing their annual migrations to
and from the sea. The better opinion, however, is that
they are a distinct fish, and the color of their sides natu-
rally suggests the above appellation, although they have
no popular name. The name Scoodic is applied gener-
ally to the St. Croix River, its lakes and tributaries, and
in Maine they are known as the St. Croix Trout, in New
Brunswick as the Scoodic Trout, while Mr. Perley sug-
gests that they may be the Grey Trout.

They are, however, extremely tame and numerous,
take the fly readily, afford excellent sport, and delicious
eating. They weigh from one pound. to four, and may
be taken in hundreds. The season commences about the
first of June, and lasts throughout that month, and the
best flies are the gay ones, composed mainly of feathers
from the golden pheasant. The scarlet ibis and Irish
jake flies are prime favorites.

The steamer of the International Line, from Boston or

4
146 WHITE TROUT OF THE SCOODIAC.

Portland, connects at Eastport with a river boat for Ca-
lais, whence there is a railroad to Lewis’ Island. From
Lewis’ Island it is nine miles to the fishing-ground, six
of which are by water and three by land. A man
named Goole will take the baggage over the portage,
and the best fishing is above the Grand Falls, between
the first two lakes. Inquiries must be made at the time
about the necessity of carrying the canoe across the por-
tage, as often no canoe can be obtained at the fishing-
ground. Of course the angler must expect to camp out,
and will provide himself accordingly.

Norz.--Since the above was written these fish have been examined by
Professor Agassiz, and pronounced to be salmon.
WHITE-FISH. 147

CHAPTER VII.

WHITE-FISH.

Coregonus Albus—Attihawmeg.—Although included
in the salmon family by having the second dorsal adi-
pose, and the fin-rays soft, this fish differs totally from
either the trout or salmon. It has minute velvet-like
teeth, scarcely perceptible to the touch, except on the
gill-arches, where there is a row of long and slim ones,
like bristles; the scales are large and the body com-
pressed like that of a shad, and it has been called the
Fresh-water Shad. The mouth is very small, utterly un-
suited for seizing the prey on which the trout and salmon
feed; the color of the back is greyish blue, and the sides
white.

Fin-rays, D. 13.0; P. 17; V. 12; A. 13; ©. 198, the
second dorsal being adipose.

The proper appellation for this fish is the Indian
name, Attihawmeg, and if sportsmen would in all cases
follow the names used by the aborigines they would
show more sense than the common people of our coun-
try, who think every fish with a spiny back fin must be
a bass, and every other a trout. The Attihawmeg
abounds in Lake Huron, where it attains a weight of
twelve to fourteen pounds, and is tolerably abundant in
Lakes Erie, Ontario and Michigan. It feeds on mussels
148 WHITE-FISH.

and shellfish, or on aquatic plants, and is usually taken
in nets. The general opinion is that it will take no bait,
natural or artificial; but it might be tempted by the
artificial fly, or perhaps the cray-fish. It is the finest
fresh-water fish of America upon the table, having no
rival that approaches it in excellence except the Otsego
bass. But being extremely delicate, it should be eaten
immediately on leaving the water, and is never in condi-
tion in the cities. If it has been frozen, as is always the
case in Winter, the Attihawmeg is utterly worthless. It
is unsurpassable split and broiled, very similar in appear-
ance and flavor, only much superior to the shad. It is
not properly a game fish, whatever may be thought of its
delicacy of taste and appearance, but a description of it
is necessary to complete the series and to distinguish it
from certain others.
CISco, 149

CHAPTER IX.

CISCO.

I rEcorp a description of this fish for the purpose of
calling to it the attention of those who have the requisite
knowledge to determine what it is, and beg naturalists,
if it is still undescribed, to leave it its own pretty, ori-
ginal name. It inhabits Lake Ontario, near its outlet
into the St. Lawrence, and is taken in the neighborhood
of Cape Vincent. It is one of the Coregonus group, but
neither the White-fish, Attihawmeg, Coregonus albus, nor
the Otsego Bass, Coregonus Otsego. It may be related
to the Coregonus clupetformis, although differing much
from the meagre description of the latter in the accounts
copied one from another, of Dr. Mitchill, Lesneur, and
Dr. De Kay.

The Cisco is not so compressed nor deep as the white-
fish ; the teeth are more delicate and velvety, and in the
gill prehies are a few long, distinct, slim teeth or bristles.
The mouth is smaller than that of the white-fish, and
when open, perfectly square. The scales are similar to
those on the latter, but the tail is so delicate as to make
counting the rays mere guesswork; the point of the
tongue is hard, the back colored green, the sides silver
white, while the first ray of the pectoral, ventral and
anal fins is darkish. The first dorsal has ten soft rays,
150 CISCO.

the second is adipose; the pectoral has fourteen soft
rays, the ventral eleven, the anal twelve, and the caudal,
as well as I could count them, fourteen. It is a very
beautiful and delicate fish, more so even than the white-
fish,

The cisco is taken at Cape Vincent, with the eel-fly
baited on a small hook and dibbled along the top of the
water, and is said not to notice any artificial fly. I unfor-
tunately had no chance to try, though I saw them rising
and taking the natural fly readily. They do not rise with
the rush of a salmon or trout, never springing out of water,
and simply show their heads as they seize their prey.
The eel-fly is a fat and sluggish fly, and it may be that
the fish rising slowly, as they naturally do, would disco-
ver the deception even if an imitation eel-fly were offered
to them. This fly, as I have elsewhere observed, is simi-
lar, both in appearance and habits, to the famous Euro-
pean May-fly.

The fish known as the lake herring, salmo clupeifor-
mis, although very similar in appearance, has certain dis-
tinctive characteristics; for instance, there are minute
teeth on the tongue, and the fin-rays, as I make them,
are—

D183 Beige Vi tls A, Ths O.19es B.. 9,

According to Lesueur—

D.12; P. 163 V.12; A. 14; ©, 195.

In the lake herring I also found the first ray of the
dorsal the longest, although Lesueur says it is simple
and short; the tail is deeply forked. The dorsal termi-
nates nearly opposite the ventrals, and the second dorsal
is opposite the centre of the anal.
OTSEGO BASS. 151

CHAPTER X.

OTSEGO BASS.

Coregonus Otsego.—This fish must be carefully distin-
guished from the Oswego Bass, there beitg no resem-
blance except in the stupidity of confounding by name
one of the perch family, to which the latter belongs, with
one of the salmon family, to which this belongs. The
Otsego Bass is closely allied to the white-fish, but has
numerous dusky longitudinal lines on the sides. Its
mouth and scales are small, and it appears to have no
teeth except the bristles on the gill-arches. The lateral
line is nearly straight, and the tail is deeply forked.
The back is a rich blue, fading into green, the sides bril-
liant with mother of pearl, and the belly gleaming like
molten silver. The rays are as follows:

Br. 9; D. 18; P.17; V. 11; A.11; C. 22.

The second back fin, as in all the salmon tribe, is adi.
pose and rayless.

These fish have as yet only been found in Otsego
Lake, where they are rapidly diminishing in size and
numbers. They are not known to take any bait, and
are presumed to feed on aquatic vegetation. Early in
spring they seek the shallow water for a few days, when
they are taken in nets; but shortly retiring to the
deepest water, they remain till Autumn, when they
152 OTSEGO BASS.

again seek the shores to spawn. They never exceed
four pounds, and rarely two, and though undesirable
on table, are not a sportsman’s fish, and have been
described only that they may be distinguished from
other species.
THE BLUE-FISH. 153

CHAPTER XI.

THE BLUE-FISH.

Temnodon Saltator—Scomber Plumbeus (Mitchill)—*
Horse Mackerel—Green-fish of Virginia—Skipjack of
South Carolina.

This fish belongs to the mackerel family ; it has pro-
jecting teeth in the fore part of the jaws, and velvety
teeth on the roof of the mouth and tongue. The first dor-
sal lies in a furrow, and there aré two minute spines con-
cealed under the skin before the anal. The scales extend
over the head, gill-covers and high on the fins; the back
is bluish-green, and the sides and abdomen lighter ; the
- pectorals, second: dorsal and tail are greenish-brown,
while the ventrals and anal are white, tinged with blue.
The gill-cover has two indistinct flat points. The fin-
rays are as follows, the spines being distinguished from
the soft rays.

D. 7255 Fo lts V¥. Ly A LaTs @ 12

These fish furnish one of the most remarkable instances
of the appearance and disappearance of species on our
coast. Asin our day, with the Spanish mackerel, that
darling of the gourmand, so in former times, the blue-fish
appeared suddenly. He was first seen on the coast of
Massachusetts in 1764, and then not again till 1792; and
it is only since the year 1830 that he has been abundant.
154 THE BLUE-FISH.

He seems to have superseded another and larger fish of
the same name, and as his numbers augment, those of
the weak-fish, otolithus regalis, diminish. The blue-fish
has singular vagaries, sometimes crowding every inlet
in swarms, and then deserting us altogether, visiting in
one season one locality and in the next another, but ordi
narily frequenting our entire coast north to Massachusetts.
They afford excellent sport on a rod and line, being
~ among the strongest and boldest of their kind, taking
the fly readily, and making fierce and well-sustained
rushes; but from the localities they usually frequent,
they are mostly taken with a hand-line from a sailboat.
An artificial squid of bone, ivory or lead, is trailed along
at the end of forty yards of stout line, from a boat
dancing merrily over the waves under the influence of a
fresh mackerel breeze. The boatman’s business is to
watch for a shoal, which can be seen by their breaking,
and when he has found it, by repeated tacks to keep the
boat in or near it; the fisherman’s duty is to haul in
steadily and regularly immediately on feeling a bite,
and to get out his line again as soon as possible. The
fish dart forward, and throwing themselves out of water,
turn a complete somersault, when, if the line is not taught,
they will throw the hook out of their mouths. The dash-
ing of the waves and flying of the spray, the rapid exhi-
larating motion of the vessel, the fresh sea-breeze, the
rapid biting and fine play of the fish, make a day pass
pleasantly if they do not afford scientific sport.
Blue-fish attain a weight of thirty pounds, and the
largest being usually taken outside the bars, beyond the
breakers, are a source of much amusement to our yachts-
THE BLUE-FISH. 155

men; but the arms of the fisherman soon weary, and
their hands, unless protected by leather gloves, are often
seriously lacerated. The fishing can hardly be said to
begin till July, and continues till late in the Autumn ;-
the smaller fish are taken early.

If cooked when just out of their native element, these
fish are excellent, but they soon lose their flavor. They
should be broiled, or split and nailed on a shingle and
roasted quickly before a hot fire.

Undoubtedly they could be taken with the trolling
spoon, and a stout leader of double gut running on
swivel traces attached to a dark hand-line would adc
greatly to the success. In fact, like all other fish, at
times they are shy and must be fished for with fine
tackle, and then the rod and line come into play. In
fishing with a rod, from a sailboat, the moment a fish is
struck the sheet is eased off, the boat run up into the wind,
and the fish killed at leisure; if the boat were kept in
motion, the strain would be too great for the rod and
reel.

One of the favorite haunts of blue-fish, although they
frequent the entire length and breadth of the Great
South Bay of Long Island, is Fire Island Inlet; and
there, of a bright summer day, may be seen congregated
the white sails of fifty boats tossing about in the roll of
the breakers, clustering together as the shoals collect, or
scattering far out to sea in the hopes of better luck.
There, when the wind blows, they may be seen under
double reef, plunging along, throwing the spray from
their bows, or, if a milder day, under full sail, generally
a single one, sweeping over the quiet waters. Moderate
156 THE BLUE-FISH.

weather is the best, and it is no use fishing unless the
fish are on, which means that their visits are variable.
At midday, when they generally cease biting, the adven-
turous fisherman may land on Raccoon Beach, immor-
talized by the genial wit of J. Cypress, jr., and either
cook his fish by a fire built from the waifs of the sea,
which I decidedly recommend, or get a fashionable din-
ner from Dominy or “t’other man” that keeps a hotel
there. -At this time it will be found, and I note the fact
for the benefit of future generations, that a little liquor
containing condensed carbonic acid gas and vulgarly
called champagne, with water reduced to the tempera-
ture of freezing and commonly called ice, will be pleas-
ing to the palate and beneficial to the inner man. In
explanation of this episode, I may say I have just been
there.
SNAPPING MACKEREL, 157

CHAPTER XII.

SNAPPING MACKEREL.

Temnodon Saltator.—One of the gayest, merriest, live-
liest, little fish that chases and devours those smaller -
than himself, and is chased and devoured by such as are
larger, is the Snapping Mackerel, the young of the pre-
vious species, but individualized from the voracity with
which he snaps at the live or dead bait. He is a beau-
tifal, silver-sided little fellow, weighing from an ounce
to half a pound, and makes his appearance in immense
numbers along our coast in the latter part of September
or fore part of October.

“ Whence he comes,
Whither he goes,
Nobody cares
And nobody knows.”

He must have just arrived, however, from the parents’
spawning ground, his diminutive size proving that he has
not been long out of the shell. He roams about, at first
in small numbers, but soon increasing to multitudes, and
gives active chasé to the minnow and spearing, that may
be seen momentarily springing out of water in their
frantic efforts to escape his charges. He lurks in the
foaming water of a mill-tail or sluiceway, or in the eddy-
ing current of the receding tide, watching for his prey
158 SNAPPING MACKEREL.

as they swim or are drifted along unsuspiciously. He
makes one dash, a dozen startled spearing leap into the
air, and swim for dear life; but the victim is generally
carried off, a dainty and epicurean meal.

Spearing invariably swim near the surface ; they haunt
the gates of tide-mills when the tide is rising, and are
drifted in with the current when the gates open before
the advancing waters. The snappers take the opportu-
nity, not merely to plunge among the shoals before the
gates lift, but afterward, when the spearing, who are
helpless in a strong current, are swept along, to pounce
upon them.

Of course in such places they can be captured with
most success. When they first make their appearance,
not longer than your forefinger, but tender and delicate
beyond ‘belief, they may be found at low water in the
rivulets of white.froth that run bubbling from holes and
leaks in the mill-gates. The best mode of taking them
at this time, for they are small and fastidious, is with a
salmon-rod and a tiny spearing on a Limerick hook; by
making casts and drawing the bait along the surface of
the water and through the frothy eddies, the young inno-
cents are deceived, and thinking to prey upon their
weaker brethren, become themselves a palatable viand
for larger creatures. They break like trout, without
throwing themselves out of water, but with a noisy snap,
and if they miss the bait at first, will follow it resolutely.
It is no mean sport to stand upon the old worm-eaten,
weather-stained bridge, and wield the long rod, playing
your allurement over the water to the music of the rush-
ing current and the steady clack of the mill-wheel, and
SNAPPING MACKEREL. 159

see one after another of the green-backed, silvery snap-
pers dart from under the accumulated froth, chase and
swallow your bait, and no slight satisfaction to observe
the increasing number in your basket, and think of how
your friends will enjoy their supper that night.

There is one singular fact to be observed, that whereas
blue-fish invariably take the invitation squid, or artificial
fly, with voracity, the snapping mackerel, except in the
South Bay of Long Island, can rarely be tempted by it.
In Long Island Sound I have failed with the fly and the
spoon entirely, and have found the gutta percha minnow
to work only passably, whereas in the South Bay they
are taken readily with a leaden squid, of a peculiar
shape, run on a large hook and polished bright.

The spearing ‘is their favorite food, but the extreme
sensitiveness of that remarkable little fish, that renders
keeping him alive impossible, injures the attractive-
ness of the bait. As has been elsewhere observed,
when small fish are used, it is desirable to keep them,
alive if possible, and the snappers will often give the
preference to a lively killey, that by his efforts to escape
incites the eagerness of their pursuit, over a dead spear-
ing, that by his peculiar manner of resting in the water
arouses their suspicions.

As the season advances, the fish are found in all rapid
currents of the salt water, and the barred killey is by far
the most killing bait. The best way of rigging your
tackle is to have a small float and light swivel sinker,
below which there is a short leader of gut. The latter is
fastened to the middle of a piece of whalebone or wire
about two inches long, to each end of which the hook,
160 SNAPPING MACKEREL.

dressed on gut, is attached. As the teeth of these vora-
cious fish are sharp, and after being hooked they snap
continually, the silk whipping of the hook, as well as the
gut itself, is soon bitten through. Either a small quill
may be slipped down over the hook before it is attached,
and into this the teeth sink without damage, or care must
be taken to put a couple of half hitches with the snell
‘over the shank, as the whipping wears out.

A light rod and reel are necessary for this sport, and
there is the same skill and excitement in the repeated
casts that lend to striped bass fishing one of its peculiar
charms. The morning hours, the last of the ebb and first
of the flood, are the most propitious times; but as the
Fall-advances, any hour, tide or place will furnish sport
in abundance.

I was once fishing with a friend whose experience is
greater with the pencil than the rod, on one of those
glorious evenings of what might be properly styled in
our country “fiery brown October,” and our success
made us unmindful of the fleeting hours that had bid.the
sun farewell and welcomed the moon from her bed.
Cramped as we had been in a cockle-shell of a boat, we
had taken one of the thwarts and the oars, and placing
them across the gunwale, had made two high but dan-
gerous seats. The boat was extremely unsteady, and
many and solemn had been my unheeded warnings to
move as little as possible, and to exercise care in what-
ever motions were unavoidably necessary. The fish were
out in force, and seized our bait frantically the instant it
touched waves, over which the moonlight glanced in
tiny ripples. A northeaster had been blowing, but, dying
SNAPPING MACKEREL, 161

away, left only a long, heaving swell, that was broken by
neighboring projecting rocks, and in no wise added to the
steadiness of the boat. Our eagerness increased with
the increasing darkness, and when unable longer to see
our floats, we cast out and reeled in, finding generally a
worthy reward for our pains. The fun grew fast and
faster ; at one particular place we were always sure of a
fish. To reach it was a long cast, and my friend, in an
effort to excel himself, leaned back for a vigorous throw,
lost his balance, and toppled overboard. His weight, as
he went on one side, careened the boat, threw me down
to leeward, and let the water pour in over the gunwale
in, barrels. Down almost under water I saw the other
gunwale turned up and nearly over me, when my friend,
falling headlong out, gave the boat a lift, of which I
took advantage by getting back amidships pretty well
ducked, but not yet cast away. The water was nearly
up to the seats, but by careful balancing, I could keep
her ‘afloat. Imagine my horror. when my friend reap-
peared from the oozy depths to which he had descended,
and commenced madly trying to clamber over the side.
I begged. and besought him to think of what he was
doing; that I was still partially dry ; that my watch was
a patent lever; that I had a family of small children;
and that the boat would never, in her present state, hold
us both. Reluctantly he listened to reason, and allowed
me to bail her out with a bucket we had provided to
carry our fish. As I threw out the water I could just
see with deep regret, in the moonlight, the sparkle of
fish after fish that I was unavoidably throwing away, and
that I hoped would have served so different a purpose.
162 SNAPPING MACKEREL.

She was finally freed of water; hats, oars and rod were
picked up, the latter by means of the float that was
calmly fishing all by itself; my friend, who had swam to
and was shivering on a neighboring rock, was taken
aboard, and we returned; solemn and sad, my friend very
cold and myself greatly disgusted.

In fishing, therefore, for snappers, it is better not to
fall overboard; but if, by your awkwardness of doing so,
you half fill the boat, never try to climb in over the side,
but sacrifice yourself bravely. We were using on this
occasion a bait that, late in the season, is often more suc-
cessful than any other—a part of the fish himself. This,
in the early fishing, they will not touch; but in cold
weather, frequently prefer.

It is a singular fact, that although blue-fish have always
abounded in the Great South Bay, snapping mackerel
were unknown there till lately; whereas, while the latter
have been abundant in Long Island Sound from time
immemorial, the former have never been taken there to
any great extent. ;

 
THE COMMON CARP. 163

CHAPTER XIII.

THE COMMON CARP.

Cyprinus Carpio.—This, as well as the goldfish, Oy-
prinus auratus, is not a native of our country, but has
been introduced from Europe, and naturalists have sup-
posed that there is no native carp of any size in this
country. I have seen a fish called the Western Carp,
which, although I had no chance to more than sketch its
head, was certainly a true carp, and of four or five pounds’
weight. It had large scales, and all the fin-rays soft,
except the first anal, which was robust.

The common carp, which has increased with amazing
rapidity till it is found everywhere in the Hudson River,
has a small mouth, fleshy lips without teeth, large scales,
three branchial, rays and teeth on the pharyngeals; has
the first ray of the dorsal and anal fin serrated behind,
has two barbels at the angle of the mouth, and a smaller
one above on each side, small eyes, large nostrils, a high
back and radiating strieze on the gill-cover. The color is
a golden olive, lighter underneath.

These delicate fish, having become acclimated, and
finding the Hudson River suitable to their wants, are
increasing rapidly in size and numbers; but none that I
have seen equal the western carp or are properly game
fish.
164 MASCALLONGE,

CHAPTER XIV.

MASCALLONGE.

Esou Estor —Masqueallongé— Muskellunge — Musca-
linga—Masquinongy—Maskinonge— Muscanonga.

The sides of the body are marked with numerous
rounded, distinct greyish spots. Three bands of card-
like teeth are situated on the roof of the mouth, on the
palatines and vomer, converging to a point toward the
snout. There are long, sharp, distinct teeth along the
edges of the upper and lower jaw, and continued to the
extremity of the latter, although some authorities assert
the contrary. The gill-arches are also covered with
teeth. Mascallonge reach a length of about six feet and
a weight of seventy pounds, and the comparative length
of the head with the whole fish is as one to four. The
fin-rays are as follows:

Branchial or gill-rays 20; Dorsal 18; Pectoral 16;
Ventral 11; Anal 17; Caudal 24; according to my best
coniputation.

Br. 183 D. 213 PB. 183 Vel; A. Bt O.197.— Dew
De Kay.

DD. 213 P. 143 Vs 11; “A. 17; ©. 26. —Dr, Mitchill.

D. 22; P.18; V 18; A. 20; C. 26.—Prof. Agassiz.

The lutezal lige is sat ecuunngn, the under jaw is
more elongated than that of the northern pickerel and
MASCALLONGE. 165
some fish have on their sides dark spots on a light grey-
ish ground.

The name of this fish is derived from Masque allongé,
long snout, which is a translation from the Canadian
Indian dialect, of Masca-nonga, words which have the
same signification; and from corruptions of these two
designations arise our numerous names. I took great
pains to ascertain precisely how the Canadian boatmen,
who are a cross of the Indian and Frenchman, pro-
nounced this name, although, in their French patois, he
is ordinarily called Brochat, and the best my ears could
make of it was Mas- or Muscallung, the latter syllable
being guttural. But as the most sonorous, expressive
and appropriate name is Mascallonge, it is desirable that
all sportsmen should employ it.

There is a dispute as to the size and weight that these
fish attain, and while some writers claim for them a fabu-
lous size, others entirely underrate them. Mr.S. D. Johns-
ton, the proprietor of the Walton House, at Clayton, a son
of Mr. Johnston, who was a prominent man in the Cana-
dian rebellion, and for many years forced to hide among
the Thousand Isles and live by his hook and spear, said
that the largest fish he ever saw was taken by his father,
who, in one night, speared two Mascallonge weighing
respectively sixty-three and forty-two pounds. There is
plenty of authority to prove that there was taken near
Clayton, in the year 1859, a mascallonge that measured
five feet seven inches in length, and weighed fifty-one and
three-quarter pounds, that it was poor and thin, and in
good condition would probably have weighed over sixty

-peunds. One fisherman caught in a single year twelve
166 MASCALLONGE.

mascallonge, ranging from twenty-one to forty-four
pounds. Larger fish and far greater numbers may per-
haps be taken in wilder waters, and, indeed, in some of
the lakes in the remote parts of Canada these fish are
innumerable.

Their length, proportionally to their weight, is, in con-
sequence of their peculiar shape, excessive; a fish of
twenty-five pounds’ weight will measure forty-six inches
in length by six in depth, and a fish of seventy pounds
it is presumed would be-over six feet in length. Although
this is not quite equal to the great pike of Pliny, that
weighed a thousand pounds, and was drawn out by a
pair of oxen, and caught on a hook attached to an ox
chain, it must be vepavied by the most fastidious as
respectable for the present degenerate days. If the
accounts we receive are reliable, the pike of Europe, of
which the old song erroneously says :

“Turkeys, carps, hoppes, piccarel and beer
Came into England all in one year,”

vastly surpass ours in size, a fish being taken in a pond
near Stockholm with a brass ring round his neck, having
an inscription to the effect that he had been put into the
pond by the hands of Frederick the Second in 1230, or 267
years before. He weighed 350 pounds, and measured fif-
teen feet, and his skeleton was a long time preserved at
Manheim. The ring was arranged with springs so as to
enlarge as he grew. The Shannon is said to have pro-
duced a pike of ninety-two pounds, and Lock Spey one of
one hundred and forty-six; but, when reading of these
accounts, I feel like the Yankee, who, when boasting of
MASCALLONGE. 167

his great country, and especially its great cataract, was
somewhat taken aback by being told his land produced
no volcanoes, nothing to equal Vesuvius or Etna, but
who, after thinking a moment, replied: “That was true
those were big fires, but he guessed Niagara had water
enough to put them all out.” So I think our mascallonge
could eat up the biggest pike Europe can produce; and
it will be a pity if, when our country is as old as Europe,
we cannot tell as extensive stories.

 

Head of Western Carp.
168 PICKEREL,

CHAPTER XV.

PICKEREL.

In some remarkable and incomprehensible manner the
good old name of Pike has fallen into disuse, and is now
applied in this country to a fish that is not a pike at all,
but a perch, Lucio perea, the Pike Perch, Big-eyed Pike,
or Glass Eye of the Lakes; while the name Pickerel,
which is merely the diminutive of Pike, is appropriated
to the most gigantic and ferocious monsters of the deep.
There is no fish whose appearance is more appalling, and
whose appetite is more ravenous than the Great Northern
Pickerel, which is alleged to attain a weight of twenty
pounds, and which, in its fury, will pounce upon and
swallow almost any small moving object. Nor does it
much surpass the common pickerel of our ponds, which
has very similar habits, and sometimes weighs as high as,
ten pounds.

The pickerel family, like most of the fish of America,
have never been properly classified by the scientific, nor
named by the vulgar. In fact, they, with the exception
of the mascallonge, appear to have no specific names in
common parlance, ‘while naturalists have vague or no
acquaintance with their peculiarities. Sportsmen and
others speak of catching pickerel, whether it be in the
St. Lawrence, Great Northern Pickerel, which seem to

id
PICKEREL. 169

have had no scientific designation till named by Agassiz
Esox Lucioides, or on Long Island, Esox Fasciatus, or
on our principal inland waters, Hsox Reticulatus, or in
some of the lakes of the Eastern States, where a fish is
caught, of which Dr. De Kay, in his “Natural History
of New York,” doubts the existence, and which Dr.
Mitchill has dubbed the Federation Pike, Esow Tredecem-
radvatus. In truth, the distinction between the Mascal-
longe and the Great Northern Pickerel is scarcely visi-
ble even to the eye of science, and to the unlearned is
marked only by a slight difference in the shape of the
head and the coloring of the sides. The light tint is yel-
low in the pickerel and white’in the mascallonge, while
in the latter at times the sides have dark spots on a
white ground instead of the dark network of the pick-
erel. It has even been doubted whether these fish are
not identical, and the differences of size and color pro-
duced by local habits; but the views of all practical fish-
ermen lean the other way, and they can at once distin-
guish the smallest mascallonge from the largest pickerel,
although they are unable to point out the precise dis-
tinctive characteristics; while scientific men do make
out that there is a difference in the number of the fin-
rays. For the latter, however, although I have given
the most careful attention that could be expected from
an amateur, my enumeration differs from that of all
others as they differ among themselves. My computa-
tion of the fin-rays gave—

Dorsal 18; Pectoral 16; Ventral 11; Anal 17; Cau-
dal 24. -

While according to Dr. Mitchill they were respectively,

8
170 PICKEREL.

D313 °P. 145 ¥. il; A. ir; C. 26.

And according to Dr. De Kay—

D. 21; P. 135 ¥. 1b; Av 2l; C. 10p

And according to Professor Agassiz—.

D. 22; P.18; V.13; A. 20; C. 26.

This goes to show that either it is very difficult to
count the fin-rays, or that they differ; to the latter of
which suppositions my belief inclines, as I think the
older the fish the more fin-rays are formed, or so hard-
ened as to be perceptible.

The habits of this class of fish are as similar ag their
appearance, and whether you capture a tiny pickerel with
your fly in some shallow Long Island water, or entrap
the huge mascallonge with a treble hook half concealed
beneath red flannel and shining tin, they rush with the
same eagerness and grasp with the same determination.
I amused myself one evening on Long Island in casting
over a newly-made shallow pond with my ordinary trout
cast of flies, and seeing the ferocity with which - pickerel,
varying from four to nine inches in length, would dart
upon their anticipated prey.

All pickerel inhabit sluggish water, and abound among
the long, grassy pickerel weed that thrives upon a muddy
bottom. The St. Lawrence, where it winds amid the
beautiful Thousand Isles and forms innumerable deep
and quiet bays, is their favorite home. The water, flow-
ing from the immense lakes and holding suspended the
seeds of aquatic plants, is favorable to the growth of
the pickerel weed, and is in every way suitable to the
fish themselves. The latter, however, have great power,
and can unquestionably stem a strong current, for no
PICKEREL. 171

doubt they ascend the rapids of that mighty river, being
Sound in the eddies; but they prefer quiet water, where
they can lurk among the weeds, watching stealthily for
their prey, or bask near the surface in the warm summer
sun. Both mascallonge and pickerel abound in the innu-
merable lakes of Lower Canada, and are so abundant in
addition to being almost tasteless, as to be unsalable for
food.

In other waters pickerel are found in the summer
months among the lily-pads, often in water scarcely deep
enough to cover. their backs. The federation pike I have
never taken, except in some of the remote ponds of the
wild woods of Cape Cod, near Sandwich and Wareham,
especially in the Little Herring Pond. And although at
the time I had no knowledge of the scientific distinctions
of fish, I at once recognized the description which I saw
for the first time afterward, but had often sought in vain
among our works on ichthyology. All the pickerel
family are readily distinguishable by their having but
one dorsal, and that opposite the anal fin and near the
tail, and the sportsman acquainted with one will readily
recognize all the tribe.

There are many ways of capturing this fish, and he is
not the least particular if he is offered anything that has
the semblance of food. He may be trolled for with dead
bait, generally a minnow, or better, a yellow perch, on a
gang of hooks, or fished for with a live bait and a float,
and he will readily take a frog, provided the latter shall
not, as described in the “ Angler’s Miseries,” have the
intelligence to creep out upon a stone and watch the
fisherman, while the latter watches his float; but the
172 PICKEREL.

true way in open wate, is to fish for him with a spoon.
The last is objected to as being too destructive; but as it
is clean, requires no bait, and is little trouble, and as the
fish are utterly worthless either for sport or the table, the
sooner they are destroyed and replaced by nobler sub-
stitutes the better.

Among the water-lilies the only mode is to use a long, ~
stiff rod and short line, loaded with one buck-shot about
a foot from the hook, and baited either with a minnow,
the belly of a yellow perch, or better than all, a slip of
the skin of pork cut into something resembling a small
fish. The latter never wears out, and can hardly be torn
off, while it often is preferred to more natural food.
The bait is dropped into the opening among the lily-pads,
and sinking rapidly, by the weight of the shot, toward
the bottom, is started up again by a twitch of the rod,
and. goes bobbing up and down till the pickerel, ren-
dered frantic by such an absurd performance, can stand
it no longer, and with one furious rush determines to end
the gyrations of such a silly creature. Never wait for
pickerel to gorge the bait, discard such old fogy notions,
and by the aid of a strong rod and line, pull him out at
once. At least one-half the time fish eject the bait instead
of swallowing it, and no one who has ever eaten pork
can question their taste. Waiting five or ten minutes,
or till they make two or three runs, will not do in our
rapid country. I have seen fish that were corpulent with
over-feeding, and surrounded by their favorite food,
young herring, taken by a piece of themselves being
spun in this manner, when they would touch no other
bait.
PICKEREL. 173

But the most wonderful mode of all is that practised
in the St. Lawrence, and generally among the larger
waters of Canada and the northern States. The fisher-
man places himself in the stern of a light canoe-shaped
boat, with his face forward, the oarsman sits near the
bows, of course facing aft; on each side of the fisherman
are pegs like row-locks, or grooves, in the gunwale, with
corresponding round holes in the stretchers on the oppo-
site sides; two short, stiff rods are laid across the boat,
projecting on each side like wings, kept in their places
by the pegs, and their buts supported by the holes. A
long line is let out from each rod, say forty yards, armed
with a spoon bait; while the fisherman holds an ordinary
trolling-line in his hand, and is thus rowed about till
either he, or more frequently his oarsman, perceives from
the bending of the rod that he has a bite, or he feels a
dead drag on his hand-line. If it falls to the share of
the rod, he takes the latter up, ends it round till he can
reach the line, when he pulls the fish in by hand. If he
uses a reel, it is a good plan to takeone or two turns of the
line round it, so that it will just render. By so doing he
might save the rod from breaking, which would be apt to
happen with a heavy fish. Mascallonge invariably stop
perfectly still when struck.

Tn landing a fish by hand, which is always the prefer-
able mode, the reel only being used for an emergency,
hold the line very lightly between your fingers and give
to every jerk or rush. Innumerable large fish are lost
by an endeavor to pull them in by force, and I have seen
men, with their hands cut by the line, complaining that
they had lost a mascalonge of forty pounds. Pickerel
174s PICKEREL.

nevér make many nor long-sustained rushes, but they
give powerful jerks and flounces that, if resisted, will
tear out or break any hook; otherwise, they can ordina-
rily be drawn through, or more properly over, the water
like a wet rag. The person who pulls them in as though
it was a question of strength between him and the fish,
deserves to lose them and have his. fingers cut besides.
The moment, however, the fish is at the side of the skiff,
he should be either gaffed or lifted over the gunwale
at once, as more are lost then than at any other time.
Their jaws are mere skin and bone, the skin tearing
away at. once, and the bone forming no substance in
which the hook can imbed itself, the latter sometimes
slips out or more frequently is broken off. If you value”
your fingers, never put them in a pickerel’s mouth or
gills, which are armed with innumerable sharp and even
venomous teeth. The best weather for trolling is a light,
southwesterly breeze, and in large and deep waters a
bright sky; in a heavy wind, it is impossible to manage
the boat.

The hook should always be on wire or gimp, the
former preferable as the latter is so rarely what it pro-
fesses to be, and of course should be attached to the line
by not less than two swivels. The best spoon is the so-
called Buel’s patent, with three hooks, either in one
piece, or soldered firmly together, and a small elliptical
piece of tin, copper or brass, made to revolve round them
by means of a shoulder on the shank. This may be tin
on one side and red on the other, or copper.and brass, or
copper or brass alone, to suit the angler’s fancy, and the
shank of the hooks is wound with scarlet flannel, or
PICKEREL. 175

covered with the ibis feather, or left uncovered, as expe-
rience shall dictate. Bright spoons are preferable on
dark days,eand for mascallonge the oldest and most suc-
cessful fishermen use no feathers or flannel. Avoid
purchasing any spoon with small, dangling hooks, or with
more than three or less than two, or with any fastening
of any kind except wire or gimp. Nothing else will for
a moment stand the terrible teeth of these ferocious
monsters. I once had an expensive imitation pearl fish,
, that was fastened with thin brass wire, bitten off by the
first pickerel that touched it. If you use a reel, you will
of course use your ordinary bass line; if not, purchase a
common stout hand-line, and troll with from forty to fifty
yards out. Your trolling-rod must be short, stiff and
strong, not over ten feet long, and can be readily made
by adding a stout top to your but and second joint;
while, for weed fishing, you must have a long, stiff rod,
and when the fish are heavy and tangle themselves in
the weeds, which their first rush will often do, you must
reach your line and draw them out by hand; by taking
hold of the wire or gimp, you can readily land a ten-
pound fish.

These fish, both pickerel and mascallonge, can be cap-
tured in immense numbers in the St. Lawrence, at Cape
Vincent, Clayton, Alexandria Bay and many other
places; in Lake Champlain, near Rouse’s Point; and in
all the lakes of Canada; but they are dull sport in the
catching and poor food in the eating. Believe no one
who boasts of the fine flavor of the mascallonge, cook
him as you will, he is nothing but a dirty, flabby, taste.
less pickerel. And as for the sport, carry a blanket with
176 PICKEREL.

you, take a turn with the hand-line round your leg, and
stretching yourselves as best you may in the bottom of
the boat, sleep comfortably till either a call from your
oarsman or a tug on your leg rouses you to the dreary
work of pulling in a worthless, unresisting log. When
you strike and lose one fish, remain rowing round and
round; if he is not much hurt, he will bite again, and
where there is one there are more; remain at that spot
till, by passing over the ground once or twice without a
strike, you are thoroughly satisfied you have exhausted
the supply. There is sometimes great beauty of sce- ©
nery, and if your guide has anything to say, which
he rarely has, you can, as you should be able ever to do
in the open air, enjoy yourself. ;

The mode of fishing among the pond lilies that I have
described is much more exciting, requiring continued
activity, some skill and no little judgment, while there is
_ greater risk of losing your prey. To avoid the latter
casualty, if the fish weigh not over four pounds, lift him
out at once, and proceed in the same way with larger
fish to the extent your rod will stand. As for snap-
fishing, that is, using a hook so constructed as to spring
open or shut the moment it feels the bite, and thus
grasping the fish or imbedding an extra hook in his jaws, -
I have only tried it sufficiently to be disgusted with it,
although probably it may work well in open water. If,
however, it touches a weed, it will be sprung, and then
you cannot catch a fish at all till it is reset. It was
invented to avoid the hook’s coming out of the pickerel’s
mouth, which, from the nature of the latter, it is apt to
do, a difficulty which old, slow, poky, English punt-
PICKEREL. 177

fishers endeavor to remedy by allowing the pike or jack,
as they call him, to gorge the bait. A pickerel, like a
trout, rushes up, strikes his prey, and immediately returns
with it to his haunt; he then ends it round, having gen-
erally struck it crosswise, and swallows it. This he takes
much longer to do than a trout, and the English works
on fishing direct you to wait five minutes or till he runs
again, and then, by striking smartly, you can fix the
hook into his gills or stomach, from which nothing but
the knife will remove it. The disadvantage, however, is
that the pickerel often eject instead of gorging the bait,
and when the fisherman, having impatiently awaited his
‘five minutes, comes to strike, he strikes naught but the
thin water or the stem of a water lily. After a few such
disgusting results, he will probably determine, as the
writer has, to strike at once, unless, by one of those
exceptional cases to all good rules, some peculiar diffi-
culty forces him to proceed otherwise. The word spoon,
that has been so frequently used, is derived from the use
originally of the bowl of a pewter table-spoon, into one
end of which was fastened three hooks, and into the other
a swivel attached to the line, and which, by playing and
flashing through the water, attracted the fish; the old-
fashioned spoon is now out of use, and entirely super-
seded by Buel’s patent. Pickerel, especially the smaller
varieties, will take a fly, but not very readily; and this
can hardly be said to be an established mode of fishing
for them.

There is another style of pickerel fishing which is
amusing, to say the least of it, and is practised exten-
sively throughout the State of New York. You take a

g*
178 PICKEREL.

small’ piece of flat board about nine inches across, and
pass a stick through a hole bored in the centre so as to
project above and below it; the lower end is then loaded,
and to the upper is attached a line of some twenty or
thirty feet, that is baited with either a live or dead min-
now. The line is coiled on one side of the wood, and
leaving sufficient end for the bait to sink to a proper
depth is fastened slightly in a slit cut in the wood like
the thread of a spool. As many as you please to use
are then placed in the pond and left to fish while you
row about or otherwise employ yourself. If a pickerel
takes the bait, the line is jerked out of the cleft, and
uncoiling, allows him to carry off and pouch the bait,
but when he undertakes to move away he is hooked
by the resistance of the wood against the water. The
motion of the float can be seen from some distance, and
it is quite interesting to chase one after another that. go
“bobbing around,” as fish after fish is hooked. A plan
somewhat similar to this is described by Walton and
other writers, and it is merely a modification of an old
invention.

The best season for pickerel fishing is after the first of
September, although they are taken at all times, includ-
ing their spawning seasons of February, March and
April, and are quite good, voracious and abundant in
July and August. The English pike is reported to show
an abstinence from food in Summer that our fish never
exhibit, and, indeed, differs from ours in many particu-
lars, and none more to his credit than his scarcity. In
Summer our fish resort to the shallow water, as they are
also said to do in their spawning season, and at both
PICKEREL, ~ 179

times they are shot or speared without mercy. In fact,
the quick eye, ready hand and steady foot required for
spearing renders it an exciting and reputable sport,
worthy of, and often unattainable by, the best of us. In
Winter, pickerel seek the warm, deep water, and are
caught through a hole in the ice by a live bait on a hand
line. This is said to be very exciting, provided a rude
hut is built over the hole, and a fire made in the hut,
and provided the fisherman, seated in a comfortable chair,
provided with a book, a segar and a glass of hot punch,
has an assistant to pull out the fish. It is alleged
that these fish are, “during the height of the season,”
brilliant and beautiful ; if that is so with any, except the.
Long Island Pickerel and the Federation Pike, the height
of the season must have been too high for me to reach.

The family of the Hsocide are truly typified by the
voracious and terrible Hsox lucews, wolf-fish, the true
pike, from which they take their name, and include
among their numbers the formidable Gar-pike, Esox
osseus of the Southern waters. Although their flesh is
hardly fit for the table, they are universally abundant,
and their capture affords that kind of pleasure always
derived from taking many and large animals of any
description.

The principal species known in this country are:

Tae Mascattonas, sox Estor.

Tae Norraern Picxerer, Hox Lucioides, both of
which inhabit the great-rivers and lakes of the North.

Tue Common Picxerer, Hsox Reticulatus, of ‘the mid
dle and northern States.

Tae Lone Istanp Pickxeren, Hsox Fasciatus.
180 *  PICKEREL.

Tat Wire Picxernr, Esow Vittatus, of the West.

Tae Brack Picxerer, Hsox Wiger, of Pennsylvania
and of Saratoga Lake, New York, which Dr. De Kay
presumes to be only the young of the common pickerel.

Tae Frpreration Prez, sow Tredecem ae of
the eastern States.
-THE GREAT NORTHERN PICKEREL. 181-

CHAPTER XVI.

THE GREAT NORTHERN PICKEREL.

Esox Lucioides.—This fish is very similar to the mas-
eallonge, so much so that it is not mentioned in most of
the works on American Ichthyology, being confounded
with the latter. The principal differences in appearance
are, that the snout of the pickerel, the under jaw espe-
cially, is shorter-and more obtuse than that of the mas-
callonge, the light tint of its sides is yellower, and it
never attains over twenty-five pounds. The markings
on the sides are somewhat different, the light, elongated
spots of the pickerel, being occasionally replaced in the
mascallonge by dark spots on a greyish ground, and the
fin-rays are not so numerous.

Dorsal 18; Pectoral 16; Ventral 10; Anal 15 and
Caudal 24.

Or, according to Professor Agassiz—

D. 21; P.16; V.11; A. 16; C. 17.

The principal color is dark grey, lighter on the sides
than on the back.

These fish are caught in all the sluggish waters of the
North, and on the same ground and at the same time with
the mascallonge, and coincide with him entirely in habits
and disposition. They exhibit the same ferocity, are
allured by the same baits, entrapped in the same manner,
and, in a culinary point of view are, if possible, inferior.
182 THE COMMON PICKEREL.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE COMMON PICKEREL.

Esou Reticulatus—These fish, which are sometimes
called by the learned, and none others, Pike, have on
their sides a network of dark lines upon a yellowish
ground, and are named by naturalists from this peculiar-
ity. The lines are sometimes longitudinal, and but little
reticulated. The fin-rays are—

Dorsal 18; Pectoral16; Ventral10; Anal14; Caudal
193. Or, according to Agassiz—

D205 P16; V..10; A. 203 ©. 18. = ;

This fish rarely exceeds ten pounds in weight, although
he has been said to attain fifteen ; but in these instances
has probably been confounded with the Northern Pick-
erel. He abounds all through the northern States, and
is emphatically the Pickerel, when the word is used
without other qualification. The darker, more sluggish
and weedy the water, the more he likes it; old roots,
decayed trees and a muddy bottom are his delight, and
by his ferocity not a few ponds have been depopulated
of superior fish. Among a certain class of fishermen he
is a favorite, though utterly worthless for the table or as
sport, and the little enterprise our farmers have shown
has been in introducing this despicable fish into good
waters, where, in consequence of his rapid increase and
THE COMMON PICKEREL. 183

voracious habits, he has soon exterminated all other varie-
ties. Even excellent trout ponds have been treated in
this way.

The largest of these fish within my range of informa-
tion, are taken in Long Pond, New Jersey, a large pond,
originally a natural lake, and rendered more extensive
by damming. The head-waters are filled with dead
trees, amid the roots of which pickerel hide and thrive.
There they are said to attain ten pounds, and often exceed
five. Generally, however, five is the limit, and many
more are taken that weigh not over three. These fish
are not found in the waters of Canada, and are usually
captured with live or dead bait, or a piece of pork,
although in favorable water they would undoubtedly
take the spoon, like their congeners of the north. Their
habits are similar to those of the northern pickerel and
maseallonge.
184 FEDERATION PIKE.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FEDERATION PIKE.

Esou Tredecem Radiatus.—This fish, simply so called
because it has no name among fishermen and sportsmen,
is almost unknown to naturalists. Dr. De Kay doubts
its existence, and it is described alone by Dr. Mitchill.
I take, therefore, much pleasure in adding my testimony,
so far as it goes, to its existence, although after all it
may be merely a northern or common pickerel so altered
by a change of food and water as not to be recognizable.
There were a large number taken in the Little Herring
Pond, on Cape Cod near Agawam, and the secret of
their existence being kept for years, we had excellent
sport before the natives found it out, and with their.
spears and guns, fishing through the ice and killing ther
on the spawning-beds put a termination to their existence.
A few may remain, and thus determine the question.
We caught large numbers, taking them of ten pounds’
weight, and readily killing in a few hours a hundred and.
twenty-five pounds. The fish were peculiarly beautiful
in appearance, so much so that I made a rough outline
which is now before me, and marked in the colors for
the purpose of painting the picture of one. I afterward
found the undertaking difficult, on account of the dissi-
milarities of the common pickerel, which I purchased in
FEDERATION PIKE. 185

market and endeavored to use as a guide. The water
of this pond was clear as crystal, and communicated with
the ocean; it was alive with herring, perch and other
small fish, as thick as the gold leaf in a bottle of Haw de
vie de Dantsic, and may have had a great effect upon
the coloring and shape of the-fish. At the time I was
struck with their appearance, and examined all the works
on icthyology at my command, but could find no satis-
factory description.

The head was that of the pickerel family ; of the teeth
and fin-rays I remember nothing accurately ; the back
was dark brownish green, growing greener on the sides,
where it was interspersed with numerous lilac spots or
scales, and shading off, as it descended on the sides, into
light green with yellow scales; then into yellow with
brilliant silvery scales, terminated on the belly in the
purest white. The dorsal fin and tail were dark green,
the anal burnt sienna, the ventral yellow, with, I believe,
the first ray red, and the pectoral yellow and reddish.
The back of the head was dark green, the gill-covers
were partially covered with scales, the iris was yellow
shot with pearl; between the eye and the nostril there
was a spot of lighter green; the snout and tip of the
under jaw were dark green ; adjoining on the under jaw
was a warm. lilac color, becoming purplish as it advanced
toward the gill-cover. The lower part of the fore gill-
cover was of a pearly tint, deepening into purple as it
ascended; the gill-rays were a beautiful warm light
mother of pearl, and’ behind them was a yellow tint.
These colors were all exquisitely brilliant, and bid defi-
ance to my palette. The sides were variegated with
186 FEDERATION PIKE.

irregular broken horizontal black lines, extending nearly
to the tail, which was forked. Toward the belly these
lines disappeared; and the scales of the whole body
were small and numerous. The depth was unusually
large in proportion to the length, made greater probably
by my drawing the outline round the fish as he lay
on his side. I took three outlines; but the best speci-
men weighed six pounds and a half, and was twenty-four
and a half inches long to the centre of the tail, and
twenty-three to the root, by five and a half deep, the
head having a length of seven and a half inches.

These fish were not only remarkably beautiful, but
were excellent on the table, and differed utterly in both
particulars from all other pickerel. They were taken in
Summer among the water lilies, with the belly of a yel-
low perch or a piece of themselves, and surrounded as
they were by the most delicious food, visible to our eyes
in unlimited quantities, were naturally dainty.

The above description accords wonderfully with that
of Dr. Mitchill, and there can be no doubt that the fish
are identical, although I did not count the fin-rays, which
Dr. Mitchill gives at—

Br. 13; D.13; P. 13; V.9; A. 18; C. 21.
THE uONG ISLAND PICKEREL. 187

CHAPTER XIX.

THE LONG ISLAND PICKEREL.

Esox Fasciatus.—This fish has no name whatever in
common parlance, and naturalists have dubbed him Va-
ried Pickerel, Mackerel Pickerel, and other terms which
are unknown except to their authors. He abounds on
Long Island, although he is found elsewhere throughout
the State, and probably the most appropriate name would
be Banded Pickerel, as his scientific appellation justly
suggests. Varied pickerel 6 appropriate to nothing, and
mackerel pike to the scomber esow, another fish» altoge-
ther. This fish is distinguishable by having dark verti-
cal bands upon his sides, and being altogether of a darker
hué on the back than any other pickerel, while the pec-
toral, ventral and anal fins are lighter colored and some-
times reddish. A dark band passes from the eye to the
angle of the jaw, and the fin-rays are—

D. 22; P. 16; V.10; A. 18; C. 18. Or, according
to Dr. De Kay—

D.15; P.15; V.9; A. 14; C. 194.

This fish never exceeds one pound in weight, and one
foot in length ; and although endowed with all the fero-
city of his family, does not apparently injure the trout
ponds of Long Island, where he has a local habitation
andaname. Probably he cannot destroy the larger fish,
188 THE LONG ISLAND PICKEREL.

and the young fry do not live where he resorts. It is
not from want of will but of power that he is harmless,
for he will take a small fly with the same ravenous eager-
ness that the mascallonge exhibits in seizing the deadly
spoon. He is fat and free from bones, and not a bad
pan fish, and in these particulars, as well as in habits
and appearance, he sets his big brothers a good
example.
THE THOUSAND ISLES. 189

CHAPTER XxX.

THE THOUSAND ISLES.”

At the upper edge of the State of New York, where
civilization terminates and Canada begins, a mighty
river, the outlet of a hundred lakes and thousand streams,.
flows amid innumerable islands in a fierce current
toward the sea. It bears upon its broad bosom in im-
mense rafts the wealth of the forests of the Northwest.
Enormous quantities of timber, collected from all its
tributaries, even from the region around Lake Superior,
are brought in large vessels, mostly three-masted schoon-
ers, to the head-waters of this stream, and there, at Cape
Vincent or its neighborhood, are bound together into
rafts, preparatory to descending the rapids. These rafts
cover acres in extent, and sometimes have as many as
fifty shanties built upon them to accommodate one hun-
dred men for months, or until they shall reach Quebec or
Montreal. Launched upon their journey, they are car-
ried along by the current, and by sails when the wind
is favorable, and even without the latter, moving as they
do by the force of gravity faster than the stream, can be
steered to some extent. Rough oars are fastened on the
fore and after part, by a vigorous use of which the raft
can be kept from danger and retained in the middle of
the stream. They press on with resistless force, some-

\
190 THE THOUSAND ISLES.

times passing entirely over projecting rocks or small
islands, and in one instance carrying off a lighthouse
that had been located near their path. One end often
runs far on shore, when the other swings round and drags
it off; vessels of all kinds keep clear of them, if possible.
They are bound together with withes made by twisting
saplings, and so strongly that they rarely give way when
rushing over rocks or descending rapids that are almost
cataracts. Sometimes they are composed of logs, some-
times of rough staves. The latter are bound together in
cribs, and instead of three drams making one crib, as is
common in New York, three cribs make a dram; and the
wood measure of the North may be said to be
1000 Staves make one Crib ;
3 Cribs make one Dram ;
20 Drams make one Raft.
And no one has any scruples whatever, for the country
being poverty itself, the people are neither elevated nor
moral, and eke out a scanty subsistence by rafting and
fishing.

The people use for fishing, boats on the plan of a small
whaleboat, built of thin cedar, and the surprise of my
companions upon their first visit to this desolate region,
was by no means small on discovering that they were
expected to fish with three lines at once, holding one in
their hand and having a rod projecting from each side
of the boat in addition. We had arrived the evening
before at Clayton, and, like true knights, finding there
was to be a ball given by the natives, had attended it,
and danced till the wee hours, with pretty little bright-
eyed girls, strange dances called by Indian names, among
THE THOUSAND ISLES. 191

which the most remarkable was Moneymust. It was in
the latter part of July, and the day after the ball being
bright and beautiful, with a southwesterly breeze, we each
selected our boatman—for only one fisherman can go in
each boat—and started for a day’s sport among the mas-
callonge and pickerel. We separated at once, some going -
up-stream, others across by Powder-horn and Shot-bag
Islands, while I kept down along shore and ran into the
bay behind the old mill.

I had on the line of my right-hand rod a Buel’s patent
spoon, tin on the outside and red on the inside, bright-
ened, by being rubbed with pumice stone, till it shone
like burnished silver, and, with red ibis feathers wound
round the treble hook, it glanced and sparkled through
the water, visible at a great distance. On the left-hand
rod the spoon was copper on the inside, and the hooks
were wound with scarlet flannel, while that in my hand-
line had copper on the outside, brightly polished, but
neither feathers nor flannel round the hooks. We passed
down from the outer point of the island toward the
lower part of the bay without success, but when return-
ing inside, my right-hand rod suddenly bent, and the
line slowly unwound from the reel, over which I had
taken a couple of turns to prevent its rendering too
rapidly ; dropping the hand-line, which was made fast to
the seat, I seized the rod, and turning it round and reach-
ing my line, commenced to draw it in as lightly and
delicately, but steadily as possible, just holding it
between the tips of my fingers. The fish was large, and
when he was about half-way in, having come thus far
with no other objections than a few violent flounces, he
192 THE THOUSAND ISLES.

made a fierce rush; instantly the line slipped with a
steady but slight strain through my finers, and he dashed
off for some distance, but soon tired, he allowed me to
pull him up to the side of the boat; once there, grasping
the wire above the hook, I lifted him quickly over the
side and threw him on the bottom, where he flounced
about vigorously and with energy enough, if exhibited
sooner, to have broken almost any line. Taking the
hook carefully by the shank, 1 twisted it out of his
mouth, and weighing him with the scales that were
always in my pocket, found he weighed ten pounds.

Turning at the head of the little cove, we retraced
our path and struck another fish, and so over and over
again, some of them making violent but unavailing efforts
to escape, others slapping off just as they were being
lifted into the boat, others again coming in with their
heads out of water like a yawl towed behind a steamboat.
Sometimes it was the right-hand rod that bent, some-
times the left, then the hand-line felt the strain—often
two and sometimes all three at once; it kept me busy,
to say the least of it. The reels were of little use, as the
boatman had to keep rowing to prevent the lines sinking
to the bottom and catching in the weeds, which, in spite
of all precautions they sometimes succeeded in doing,
and the strain was consequently too great for them.
The bottom of the boat was filled with the long-bodied,
wolfish and ravenous devils, that snapped their jaws,
struggled about, their eyes gleaming with impotent fury
and merciless cruelty, as ugly looking a set as the sun
ever shone upon; but as they were brought in, one after
another, my oarsman was delighted.
TIE THOUSAND ISLES. 193

We remained on the same spot, rowing round antil
satisfied we should get no more, when wé headed over
toward the Canadian shore, into the far-famed region of
Eel Bay. The latter takes its name from a fly that is
found in the fore part of July in immense numbers on
the waters of this region. It appears to one who has
small claims as an entomologist to be the May-fly or
famous Green and Grey Drake of England. Some that
I pressed and brought to the city were recognized at
once by the English fly-makers, who were delighted to
see an old friend, and made a number of them for me
after the pattern, saying that there was but a shade of
color between them and what they had so often pre-
pared as the May-fly at home. These flies appear in
myriads; when the wind is northerly, the waves will
cover the dock at Cape Vincent with them several inches
thick. Their body is long and so heavy that in the early
morning, when their wings are damp with the dew, they
cannot rise to fly and are readily picked up by their
wings, which project invitingly above their backs. Eel
Bay is named from the immense quantities of these flies
that appear there ; they constitute the principal food of
the fish from which they derive their name, as well as
of the cisco, black and rock bass, chubs, and probably
many others. They rise with difficulty from the water;
and fly heavily and slowly.

Our course carried us across the rapid current of the
St. Lawrence, where my boatman was glad to have me
haul in my lines, that dragged heavily, as there was no
chance of taking fish. We were soon in the bay, an
extensive reach formed by a bend in the St. Lawrence,

9
194 THE THOUSAND ISLSES.

lying upon one side, out of the force of the current, and
filled with innumerable islands. It probably holds within
itself a thousand isles. They are of all kinds, shape,
form and appearance, some half a mile in extent, consti-
tuting a cultivated farm, others a bare rock scarcely pro-
jecting above the surface, some covered with a dense
foliage, others furnishing a single trée, and many bare
of tree, bush or grass. There is immense variety of
appearance, but all are inconceivably picturesque. None
are very high, but at times the rocks run straight up
like a wall of stone, while others are long, low and flat.
They are clustered together, often affording barely
room for the boat to pass, and offer to the eye every
variety of shape and foliage. Amid them we now wan-
dered, admiring their bewitching beauty as they lay
basking in the broad sunlight upon the calm bosom of
the river. Seldom are they-inhabited, and most of the
primeval forest trees having been cut, they have grown
up with a dense underwood, occasionally relieved by
some tall monarch of the forest that has survived the
fury of man.

Keeping close along under the overhanging tree or
rock, or passing into the open water with ever-changing
scenery, we drew from the “vasty deep,” where the
long pickerel weed could be seen reaching up toward
the surface, one after another of those savage monsters,
the Great Northern Pickerel. Without catching any-
thing of wonderful size, we had taken an unusual num-
ber, when the calls of hunger warned us that the hours
were fleeting faster than we thought.

Landing at the point of an island where there was a
THE THOUSAND ISLES. 195

beautiful natural grove, we set to work to build a fire and
prepare our fish for dinner. -The pleasantest arrange-
ment connected with this fishing is that each boat is
provided with a basket of good cold fare, a frying-pan
and the necessary means of cooking; and in the middle
of the day it is customary for several to meet at an
appointed island, and for the fishermen to have a jolly
dinner. Although we were first to arrive, our com-
panions were not long behind us, and the best fish,
especially the black bass, were selected, cleaned, split
open, and fried in the grease tried out of a few pieces of
salt pork. Onur provisions were combined and made
quite a handsome picnic set-out, rendered more accept-
able to our sharpened appetite by a few glasses of iced
champagne. Of course we had our stories to tell: how
skillfully we had landed this fish, or how unfortunately
we had lost that; and one man, who had struck and
almost landed a mascallonge, was agitated with mingled
happiness and despondency. The days were long, our
boatmen had had a hard tug of it, the shade was grateful,
the champagne refreshing, our cigars excellent, and con-
sequently no one was hurried. The wind, however, kept
increasing, and after a couple of hours, pleasantly passed,
we once more embarked and bid each other farewell till
night.

My boatman struck well in toward the Canadian shore ;
but although we crossed places where he had had won-
derful success on many a previous occasion, and of which
there were extraordinary stories of mascallonge, our
luck had deserted us. However, perseverance was re-
warded; suddenly my hand-line was taughtened as
196 THE THOUSAND ISLES.

though it had struck a log; for a moment it was still,
then I felt the motion of the fish. The boatman instantly
dropped his oars and reeled in as quickly as possible the
other lines—just in time; for the fish, feeling he was
caught, made one rush directly toward us. I drew in the
line hand over hand, to have something to give out when
he should make away again, but not nearly so fast as he
moved. He passed close to us; we could see the broad
back, the long nose, the fierce eye, the mighty length of
the mascallonge.

“Turn the boat broadside toward him,” I whispered as
he passed.

Away he went, the slack of the line hissed through the
water as his increasing distance took it up, and partially
deadened his way as he reached the end of it and came
against the light though steady strain with which I held
it. Giving to him, at first readily then more sparingly,
I again turned him; this time he did not approach so
near, but swung round well in-shore. Then, with a sud-
den rush, he came straight on, and flashed directly
beneath the bottom of the boat. If the line once touched
the rough surface, or caught in a splinter of the wood,
we knew it would part like pack-thread. The oarsman
tried to swing her round; there was no time; hastily
gathering a few coils, I threw them into the water at the
stern, and passing the line over my head, anxiously
watched them sink. Suddenly they were taken up, the
line in my hand taughtened and lifted out of water; it
had not caught, and that danger was past. The strug-
gle lasted long; again and again he darted away; once
he nearly exhausted my line, and compelled me to use
THE THOUSAND ISLES. 197

considerable force, but generally I held the least possi-
ble strain on him. Finally, he made one grand rush, was
foiled, allowed himself to be drawn alongside, and was
neatly gaffed by the boatman.

He was an immense fish, a triton even among pickerel
of ten pounds. Beauty he certainly did not possess, but
grandeur and ferocity marked every lineament. His
huge head, immense jaws, and terrible teeth, his long,
narrow body, large fins, and broad tail, and above all, his
fierce, gleaming, savage eye, marked him as the undis-
puted master of the fresh waters. His enormous size and
prodigious strength, the latter exemplified by his nearly
springing over the gunwale, indicated that he had no
match even in our extensive lakes, while his merciless
ferocity, that would spare neither large nor small, friend
nor foe, was but too apparent. His weight, as afterward
ascertained, was thirty-five pounds, and his length was
excessive proportionally to other fish. Although he
fought well, he had not exhibited in the water the vigor
he did out of it. Now that his fate was sealed, he lashed
about, struggled and flounced as though his capture had
just commenced, and scarcely showed an intimation of
approaching death or surrender. It appears to be a
peculiarity of the pickerel family that they exhibit their
courage and strength too late, waiting till they are man-
acled before they fairly rouse themselves to the emer-
gency. Their efforts consequently afford little pleasure
to the sportsman or profit to themselves.

Having captured the master spirit of the stream, we
did not wish any of his smaller brethren, and while he
was dying we wound up the hand-line and removed the
198 . THE THOUSAND ISLES.

spinning tackle from the others. I then took out a
twelve-foot salmon leader, or casting-line, as our friends
across the water express it, and fastened on it, at equal
distances, five large flies, the upper dropper and tail-flies
being dressed with white and ibis feathers mixed on a
large sized salmon hook, while the intermediate ones were
small, dark colored salmon flies. ‘This leader, thus
equipped, being fastened to one line, and.a similar one,
except that a small, gay spoon replaced the tail-fly, to
the other, they were trolled thirty or forty yards astern,
so that they sank well as we moved slowly along. Then,
leaving the quiet bays, with their sluggish current and
weedy bottom, we struck out boldly into the rapid water
and sought the rocky shoals where black bass love to
hide and wait.

The wind had increased till there was quite a sea, and
it was difficult to manage the boat; but that was soon
forgotten in the excitement. The-fish were numerous and
in excellent disposition ; every shoal we crossed furnished
us with several; we often took two or three at a time,
and occasionally had both lines engaged at once. They
were brave, vigorous and determined ; madly they darted
forward on feeling the hook, and threw themselves high
out of water to shake it from their mouths; finding that
vain, they made rush after rush to escape, again and
again they leaped in the air, resolute and courageous to
the last; not till they were in the net would they sur-
render.

Strange it was to note the different shades of their
colors. Their deep sides, for they are an awkward-looking
fish, and their shape gives little indication of their
THE THOUSAND ISLES. 199

strength, were, in some, of that dark green, almost black,
from which their name is derived; in others it was a
light green, and again in others pale yellow. Whence
these variations are derived, unless it be from the shade
of the ground they live on, to which all fish are said to
assimilate, is not known; but it has often led to their
being divided into distinct classes, or mistaken for other
species. Their peculiarity of springing out of water is
remarkable. Sulmon and blue-fish do so frequently,
trout rarely, and other fish seldom or never; but a black
bass of any size will invariably make one or more des-
perate leaps. It is a glorious sight to see his full length
above the water, and a nervous moment till the line that
has been slacked is again taughtened by his strain. Such
leaps are his most effective means of escape, by enabling
him to shake the hook from his mouth or strike the line
with his tail; and though not so persevering as the trout,
generally, at the sight of the net, he makes a final, dan-
gerous rush. |

We coasted along by island after island, crossing near
one named after “Old Bill Johnston,” memorable for
having taken an active part in the Canadian rebellion,
and long forced to hide from his English pursuers.
Johnston’s Island, as it is called, was his favorite resort,
where he was succored and warned of danger by his
beautiful daughter, universally known as the Queen of
the Isles. What a theme for the poet or the novelist:
the father safe neither on the English shore, where he
had waged unjustifiable war, nor among the Americans,
who would have been compelled to surrender him, lurk-
ing among those beautiful isles, then wilder and more
200 THE THOUSAND ISLES.

densely wooded than now, trusting for his support to his
rod and line—for he rarely dared to use his rifle—and to
the scanty supplies brought by his daughter; the latter
residing on shore watching for any expedition that
might be fitted out against him, and at the first intima-
tion darting off in her light canoe in spite of rain or
storm, in the daylight or impenetrable darkness, and
arriving at her retreat, perhaps just in time to warn him
of his danger and enable him to escape. Imagine the
woman’s ready wit, ever at work, ever on the watch for
him; imagine the father’s joy on seeing her amid his
trying and wearisome solitude, and her anxiety till he
is once more out of danger. The thought that such
things had really happened so near to where we then
were, added to our excitement, and was only dissipated
on passing Whisky Island, which is in dangerous prox-
imity to the former.

Our boat was headed down-stream and driven betore
the strong wind; we moved rapidly with varying suc-
cess till we arrived at one little shoal, the name of which
I have forgotten, or it never existed, and where we found
fish innumerable. Frequently every hook on both
lines was engaged; often I landed three, sometimes four,
and once or twice five fish at a time. The sport was

>» wonderfully exciting; first one rod bent, then the other;
and then, while I was busy foiling. the struggles of fish
so numerous that they made the water foam, I would see
with a feeling of despair the other rod bend and the line
slowly render round the reel. It was impossible to move
faster, useless to hurry; but, as quickly as I could and
dared, the fish were brought to net. This shoal was
THE THOUSAND ISLES. 201

exposed to the full fury of the wind, and the water
dashed in over the bow or broke against the side, while
the oarsman had all he could manage to row against. the
blast.

Round and round this spot we moved, ever with the
same result; the lines were not half out before they
would be seized, it was almost impossible to keep the two
rods in play. This lasted till we were both utterly worn
out with the excitement and the exertion, and were com-
pelled to give up from sheer exhaustion. My fingers had
many a bloody mark left by the reel-handle, that a sudden
rush had jerked from my grasp, and being compelled in
the uncomfortable seat to turn my body round to reel up,
my back was almost broken. The man. had rowed as
long as he could, but was forced to run down between
the Powder-horn and Shot-bag Islands and rest awhile
before breasting the storm homeward.

We had had great luck, taking in the last hour and a
half seventy-three bass. It was a glorious sight when
we arrived at home to see our fish laid out side by side,
the mascallonge at their head, and tapering regularly
down to a half-pound black bass. The latter do not
average any great size, rarely exceeding three pounds
and never known to be taken over six; but a day upon
the St. Lawrerice among those beautiful Thousand
Isles, either in pursuit of the mighty mascallonge,
the furicus pickerel, or, best of all, the spirited black
bass, will never be regretted by the poet or the sports
man.
202 STRIPED BASS.

CHAPTER XXI.

STRIPED BASS.

Labrax Lineatus—Rock-fish of Pennsylvania and the
South—Perca Labrax (Smith)—Sciena Lineata (Black.)

This fish, which has a large number of scientific names
and several popular ones, belongs to the Perch family,
has two spines on the after part of the gill-cover, and the
margin of the fore gill-cover rough like the edge of a
saw. Its color is bluish on the back, light on the sides,
and white on the belly. The sides are marked by seven
to nine longitudinal dark lines, from which its name is
derived, the upper of which reach the tail, but the lower
fade out above the anal fin. These lines sometimes are
broken or consist of contiguous dots. The ventral fins
are below and somewhat behind the pectorals, and have
the first rays spinous. The fore part of the ‘dorsal has
nine spiny rays, and at the interval between that and the
after part there is another small hard ray, while the after
part is composed. of twelve soft rays. The pectorals
have sixteen soft rays, the ventrals one hard and five
soft, the anal three hard and eleven soft, and the tail
seventeen soft rays.

Whether the name Bass nieans Perch or not, I cannot
say, although there is no such tradition among my
Dutch ancestry, and I am unable to find the word in
STRIPED BASS. 203

their Dutch dictionaries. There could, however, be no
more creditable derivation, and as many authorities
assert the fact, it is as well to let it pass. The fish are
found along the coast from Maine to Florida, although
they appear never to have. visited Europe, and are the
gamest salt water fish of our continent. In their season,
which is at intervals from early Spring to late in Fall,
they are taken on the bars and in every creek of our ex-
tensive coast. The net destroys the greater number, but
they bite freely and fight bravely for their lives. Great
skill and experience are requisite for their successful
capture when they are shy and scarce, but when abun-
dant or hungry, although always a dainty fish, they bite
rapidly and boldly. Like the squid of the deep seas,
these may be said to be the largest and smallest of fish;
they are taken from an ounce to a hundred pounds’
weight.

The Striped Bass becomes an object of the angler’s
attention in April, when he runs up the rivers to spawn.
He ascends into cool fresh water, until arrested by a
natural, or, too frequently, an artificial barrier. He is
taken under the Cohoes Falls in the Mohawk, and at Al-
bany and Troy in the Hudson, and reaches the very
head-waters of the Delaware, where he is known as Rock-
fish. Many, and those the largest, do not appear to
leave the salt water, and are found in the small bays and
inlets. In the fall, when the cold weather sets in, they
retire to the salt water coves and lagoons, where they lie
imbedded in the mud or hiding near the bottom, secure
against danger, or discomfort from cold or storms. Ad-
vantage is taken of this peculiarity by the market fish-
204 STRIPED BASS.

ermen, and there is a pond on Long Island, near Sag
Harbor, and others near Point Judith, that are a source
of great profit to their owners. The mill-pond at Stam-
ford having carried away the gates one Winter, and run
out nearly dry, striped bass of immense size were picked
up by cart-loads from the muddy bottom.

These fish can be confined to fresh water without
being permitted to visit the sea, and they will not only
live and breed, but are said to be much improved by
the change. In September they appear on the coast in
shoals, and are taken both inside and outside of the bars,
and in the bays and inlets where they resort for food.
As they are much sought after and highly appreciated,
and as I have added largely to my own knowledge by
drawing extensively upon the experience of my friends,
the following description of the numerous modes of tak-
ing them will be found rather minute.

When they first appear in April the shad are running,
and hence, in the rivers that the latter frequent, shad roe
is the best though most troublesome of all baits. In
places where shad are not to be found, the bass are sus-
picious of such bait. As it is most difficult to fasten on
the hook, it must be cut with the skin that envelops it,
and tied on with tow, flax, or floss silk. Stonehenge,
after eloquently defending the use of the salmon roe as
a bait, which is ordinarily considered a kind of poaching,
gives for its preparation the following directions, that
apply equally well to the shad roe: Boil the roe without
its envelope for twenty minutes; bruise it in a mortar to
a uniform consistency; add.to each pound an ounce of
common salt and a quarter of an ounce of saltpeter ;
STRIPED BASS. 205

beat them together and store it an earthen jar covered
with a bladder. Frank Forrester recommends that the
roé be well washed and thoroughly dried in the air,
salted with two ounces of rock salt and a quarter of an
ounce of saltpeter to a pound of spawn, dried gently and
potted down, covered with melted lard or suet in earthen
jars. This, either fresh or potted, is a most effective
bait for striped bass, but I confess for trout my experi-
ence is to the contrary. ;

In streams that the shad do not frequent, striped
bass are taken early in the season with shrimp threaded
on longitudinally, by passing the point of the hook
under the back plates; as the season advances, and
crabs shed their coats, with the shedder, or better,
soft crabs; and in the Fall with shrimp, the bass, or
barred killey, and the spearing. In fishing with shrimp
—and it is a good bait all the season through, and must be
tried when others fail—use a float fastened about three
feet above a swivel sinker, to the lower swivel of which
are to be attached two distinct gut leaders, one of three
feet, the other of two. Single gut, if large, round, and
true, is decidedly preferable to double, and the hook
should never be a coarse, clumsy Limerick, which has
such an undeserved reputation, but a delicate Carlisle,
with a broad, round bend. If very large fish are ex-
pected—and they rarely are—use No. 0; but gener-
ally No. 3 is large enongh. With crab the hook must
be larger. I prefer always to have the point of the hook
covered, and recommend that the shrimp should be
bunched on till they hide the hook entirely, and form a
round, attractive bait, composed of so many shrimp as
no bass ever before saw together.
206 STRIPED BASS.

In June, and throughout the Summer, the crab “is a
better bait ordinarily than the shrimp. I prefer the soft
crab, because it does not dull the point of the hook, as
will sometimes happen with a shedder that is not quite
ripe; it is easily cut up into proper baits, whereas the
shedder has to be skinned, or, more properly, shelled—
a long and nasty operation; it is always in good order
whereas others, unless carefully selected, and kept just the
right time, will tear to pieces in the course of preparation ;
and finally, the skin of the soft crab, especially as it
verges toward the buckram, enables the hook to retain
its hold. Judging from human nature, I fancy the fish
must prefer a nice, soft, plump bait, to one that is Jagged
and half full of pieces of shell.

Most writers say, fish with crab on the bottom, be-
cause there it is naturally found ; I say, fish with it near
the top, because no sensible fish, can imagine that a quar-
ter of a crab long since dead and dismembered has any
control over its own motions. In fact there is no unbend-
ing rule for fishing; the only way is to try all plans,
and if the fish will not notice your crab suspended in
mid-water, take off your float and swivel sinker, put on
a running sinker, as it is called, made like a piece of
lead pipe with a small hole in the centre, tie a knot in
the line to prevent its going down on the hook; use a
single bait of a good-sized piece of crab, and cast well
out from you, and the first eel that comes along will
astonish, not to say disgust you. The line being free,
though the lead lies on the bottom, you can feel the
first touch of a fish, and strike at once; whereas .if the
sinker were the old-fashioned deep sea lead he would
have to drag its weight some distance before the fisher-
STRIPED BASS. 207

man would be aware of his proceedings. A man, by
fishing on the bottom, although justified by a philosophy
which establishes the fact that bass ought to look for
crabs there, and not dangling about in mid-water, will
surely catch three eels ‘to one bass. The truth is, crabs
are not found-on the bottom in such places, generally
strong foaming currents, which they never frequent un-
less carried away by the force of the water, and soft
crabs are by their natural enemies, and many other
causes, often torn into pieces and borne about by the
tide.

The bait should be kept in continual motion: this is
the first law of all bait fishing. It is done by twitching
the rod, and induces the fish to seize the prey, which they
imagine is about to escape. I have seen them time and
again dart at a bait when in motion, that they had
smelt round contemptuously when still. Crab is uni-
versally regarded as the preéminent bass bait in Summer,
although its reputation is disputed by that wonderful
production of thesea, the squid. This horrible monster, of
which sailors tell such astounding stories, has illuminated
the tales of olden time, and been a pet forecastle yarn
with ancient and modern mariners. There are accounts
of ships seized by its arms, that reached to the mast-
heads, and sunk or only saved by prayers to the Virgin
Mary and the vigorous use of axes on its many muscular
and boneless limbs; of grateful mariners presenting pic-
tures of the dreadful encounter to the shrine of Our
Lady ; of huge pieces of the arms of this fish, indicating
that they must have been sixty or more feet long, found
in the maw of the whale, whose food they are; and hor-
208 STRIPED BASS.

rible stories whispered with bated breath, of men in
bathing drawn down by even the smaller of the monsters.
Though there must be something in it, I doubt if this is all
true, notwithstanding the squid is ugly enough for any-
thing. With us the squid or cuttle-fish is harmless except
to the sight, and in his native element is glad to hide him-
self in the obscurity of a dark liquid that he has the power
of emitting, when pursued. The only bone in his body is
in the middle of his stomach, and what it is put there
for unless to give him an accurate idea of indigestion, no
one knows. For the present it is enough to say he is
good bait, although not handsome, and may be used
either in trolling or still fishing.

Another excellent bait early in the Fall, although no-
where mentioned in the books, and, I believe, my own
discovery, is the scollop. My attention was first called to
it by some men opening them for the table and throwing
the many-eyed skins into the water. The bass collected
at once and rushed eagerly to the very dock, almost
springing out of water to seize the coveted morsel.
Upon this hint I acted, and by great care, for the scol-
lop is extremely tender, and by passing the hook several
times through the skin, I succeeded in keeping the bait
on while I cast very gently. My success was astonish-
ing, and then and afterward I took the largest fish
under the most unfavorable circumstances with it, when
they would not touch the most tempting crab. The
heart of the scollop is pearly white, and is attractive and
so good that no wonder the bass should be crazy for it.
It is difficult to manage and easily washed off the hook,
but if any fisherman shall see bass, as I have often, lying
STRIPED BASS. 209

in a deep pool, occasionally leaping out or sluggishly
showing their back fins on the surface and refusing all
allurements, let him try scollops, and he will think of
me in his dying hour.

As the days grow colder and the crab reassumes his
impenetrable coat and dangerous pincers, shrimp again
come into play, and on many occasions the belly of the
white soft clam will attract the bass even earlier in the
season. But in August I have had excellent sport cast-
ing, if I may use the word, for him with the spearing.
Early in Summer a delicate little fish an inch or two
long, pearly white and semi-transparent, with a black
eye and a white band along the lateral line, makes its
appearance on the shores of Long Island Sound and else-
where, and has come to be called the spearing. It is
a beautiful fish, and properly dressed might rival in
delicacy the far-famed English white-bait ; but it is never
brought to market till later in the season, when it has
grown several inches long and is comparatively tasteless.
Being too small in the early summer to take a hook,
they are difficult to catch ; but an excellent net, both for
them and killey-fish, can be made of mosquito netting
stretched double between two hoop-poles, with a stout
cord run alon¥ the top and bottom to receive the leads
and floats respectively. The netting being of extra
width, can be doubled together with the lead line laid in
the bag, or, as sailors would say of a rope, in the bight,
and the leads being small pipe, fastened at short intervals,
will keep the net close to the bottom—an important par-
ticular. It should be five to six yards long; and two
men, taking each a handle, can sweep a considerable part
210 STRIPED BASS.

of the shore, and often fill a pail with minnows or spear-
ing at one haul.

The killey-fish, so called by our anacetens from. being
caught in the kills or creeks, and which, by the by, are
at least of three kinds without counting sticklebacks,
will rush about and try to creep under the net; but spear-
ing, which always go in shoals, when once in the net do
not seem to be able to escape, and will stay there as long
as it is kept in motion. No fisherman living near the
water should be without this contrivance, as nothing is
so annoying as to be unable to get bait; he will soon
acquire considerable skill in its use, and if he is as boy-
ish as a fisherman ought always, though grey-headed, to
be, he will experience much excitement in the pursuit
even of his bait. If spearing cannot be had, though
that is rare, the barred killey, vulgarly called the bass
killey, is the next in beauty and attractiveness; it is the
Funduius fasciatus, or striped killey-fish of De Kay,
and if it cannot be had, the ugly green killey-fish, /un-
dulus viridescens, may be used, but with doubtful suc-
cess.

To cast with spearing in the manner here suggested
successfully, a stout long salmon rod will be requisite.
A small hook is run through the spearing’s mouth and
out at his side, for he is long since dead, and a cast is
made into the foaming torrent of a mill-tail or rushing
tide. The bait is drawn irregularly over the surface of
the water, and again cast and played like the fly. The
bass strike it as trout or salmon take the latter, and
there is the same skill and uncertainty in the pursuit.

I was once fishing in this manner for snapping mack-
STRIPED BASS. 211

erel, the young of the blue-fish, Zemnodon saltator, with
single gut half worn through, and the lightest tackle.
I had been quite successful, much to the disgust of older
men who were fishing in the usual manner with live
killey and no luck, and finally made a cast right among
a number of their floats. Suddenly, from the turbid
depths, shot a huge bass, gleamed for a moment in the
sunlight, and disappeared beneath the surface carrying
my spearing in his mouth. It was a splendid fish, and
my skill was tried to the utmost; many a run I was
forced to give to, and only the great length of line I had
on the reel saved him ; after a good half hour’s excellent
sport I brought him to the net, and my companions were
still more disgusted at their want of luck. I again made
a few casts, catching several snappers, when another
bass, full as large as the first, struck me and was landed
after an equally spirited contest. This was early in Sep-
tember, and before the fish were taken by trolling in
that neighborhood.

In June and October, bass of great size are captured
off Point Judith with half a mossbunker, otherwise men-
haden, hard-head or bony-fish, the Alosa menhaden,
thrown from the rocks by rod or hand into the surf. The
bait is ordinarily tied on the hook, which is large, and
thrown without float or sinker as far into the sea as its
weight will enable the fisherman to cast, and then slowly
reeled or drawn in. Similar fishing is pursued at New-
port, and bass are frequently taken of over forty pounds.

A favorite mode of catching these fish is by trolling
from a boat either with rod and line or hand-line and
with the natural squid, or the imitation made of pewter,
912 STRIPED BASS.

tin or bone. In this mode very large fish were once
taken at Hell Gate, but the glory thereof has departed.
Where squid cannot be obtained, the large spearing or
barred alley will answer well.

There is this redeeming quality about taking striped
bass with the float and sinker, that the fishing generally
being done in a rapid, and at times, boisterous current,
the bait has to be kept in motion, and it is necessary to
reel in and cast out every few minutes. As great skill
in casting can be obtained, and there is an immense
advantage in throwing into the exact spot, it is truly a
sportsmanlike mode of procedure. A good fisherman
can cast thirty to forty yards, or even more, into the size
of a hat, without tangling the line or jerking the bait,
while the tyro will generally fail reaching half the dis-
tance, and will frequently leave his baits on the way. I
can cast better and further from the left side, and have
heard many old fishermen say the same, but you must be
able to use the rod on either side.

As there are persons so ignorant as not to know how
to cast at all, and asI once found one stopping his reel
with his first finger, I will say that to make a cast the
line is reeled up till the float touches the tip, or in
case no float is used, till the bait is within a foot of it,
the right hand grasps the rod at the reel, which is turned
up, and the thumb placed upon it to regulate the escape
of the line; the left hand is near the but; the point of the
rod is then carried back behind the fisherman, and witn
a steady, springy motion is suddenly brought forward
and the line delivered. A jerk, or the fouling of the line,

which will surely happen if it is allowed to overrun, will
STRIPED BASS. 213

certainly tear off your baits, and perhaps your float and
sinker ; the sinker must strike the water in advance of
the float, or the leader is apt to hitch round the upper
point of the latter.

The most scientific and truly sportsmanlike mode of
taking striped bass must be admitted to be with the fly ;
which, unfortunately, can only be done in the brackish.
or fresh water. Like salmon, they will not take the fly
in the salt creeks and bays, and thus, though the sport is
excellent, it is confined to few localities, and those diffi-
cult of access. Fly-fishing may be done either with the
ordinary salmon rod, or in a strong current with the
common bass rod, by working your fly on the top of the
water and giving a considerable length of line. The
best fly is that with the scarlet ibis and white feathers
mixed, the same as used for black bass; but bass may
be taken with any large fly, especially those of gay color.
Excellent sport is frequently had in this way from off
some open bridge, where the falling tide, mixed with the
fresh water, rushes furiously between the piers.

It is generally conceded that the best time for bass
fishing is at night, especially if the moon be bright.
The most favorable wind is a southwesterly one, strong
enough to make a good ripple on the water, and the
right time of tide from half-ebb to half-flood. In the
shallower inlets the neap tides are preferable, as they
do not drain the water so low as to alarm the fish.

In bass fishing, whether for trolling or casting, the rod
should be eight to ten feet long, stiff and light, but with
a certain amount of elasticity. A rod made of a piece
of bamboo, cut in two joints, will, until some-awkward
O14 STRIPED BASS.

friend steps on and breaks it, answer as well as any other,
and one that costs three dollars is in every particular as
good as one worth forty. The light bamboo jointed rods
of our ancestors are no more to be had; the makers say
it is impossible to get the cane of the proper taper, and
rods of ash and hickory have come into fashion. The
latter will answer every purpose, but as they are sure to
warp, the guides should be double, so that the line can
be shifted from one side to the other. Patent standing
guides are all the fashion with us, though the English
use the old-fashioned rings made large. Of course we
prefer our own invention. The funnel-top should be
large, and for a valuable rod, or a particular gentleman,
should be made of agate. They are infinitely superior
to the old-fashioned ring-top still used in England. Avoid
having many guides; they create friction, and three or
four will answer every purpose.

If you are a gentleman and a man of fortune, of lavish
hand and open heart, you should -use what is called a
grass or raw silk line, buying a new one every two
weeks, by which time it will be rotted out. It does not
kink or over-run, works*beautifully, and will enable you
to cast ten yards further than with any other; but it is
not strong at best, will rot immediately if not dried after
the least exposure, and costs money. If you are a poor
or a careless man, buy a new flax line every year, and
throw it away in the Fall, after being disgusted with it
all the season. If you are neither of these, buy a plaited
silk line of one hundred yards; be sure and get a new
one, and take care of it.

Lines may be preserved from rotting by being dipped
STRIPED BASS. 215

in a mixture made of one pound of printer’s varnish,
half a pound of siccity, and one gill of spirits of tur-
pentine, warmed up-together, or in the ordinary drying
oil sold at the paint shops, and although they do not
render quite so easy, I have all mine, trout and bass
lines, so prepared. I cannot take the trouble to dry my
lines after every exposure, and if once forgotten, without
being so protected, they are ruined. A well-made silk
line is strong enough to hang oneself by, if the angler
should be disgusted with life by his ill luck, and coated
in this manner they will last a long time. They do not
get saturated or take up water in casting, and do not
stick to the rod as they otherwise would. Lines for fly
fishing, prepared in a similar manner, are sold in the
fishing-tackle stores, although the makers are opposed t
an improvement that will diminish their business. The
line is dipped in the preparation when warm, and left in
all night; it is removed next morning after the mixture
has been rewarmed, and is stretched in a garret or other
place not exposed to the sun or rain, and the superfluous
varnish wiped off, and after it is thoroughly dried, it is
well rubbed. This preparation cannot be used with linen
or cotton lines, as it will rot them.

In striking a bass you cannot be too quick, and when
fishing with a float your line will sink in the water and
enable you to trip the float and fix the hook at once.
The fish must then be kept well in hand; but never
exhibit severity unless compelled by circumstances; be
rough, and the fish will be rough; be gentle, and he will
come to you like a friend. Keep him from the rocks and
bottom if possible; but give to his willful rushes till he
216 STRIPED BASS.

is content to listen to reason. By this course you will
avoid feeling often that sinking of the heart that follows
when the strain suddenly ceases on your line, and- you
know he has escaped.

That fine game fish of the southern States usually
called bass or red-fish, belongs to another family, and is
the Corvina ocellata, or branded corvina. It is distin-
guished by a peculiar black spot, like a drop of ink, near
the tail. It furnishes noble sport and excellent eating,
abounds in the neighborhood of the Chesapeake Bay, and
is highly prized at southern tables.
BLACK BASS. G17

CHAPTER XXII.

BLACK BASS.

Gristes Nigricans (Agassiz)—Centrarchus Fasciatus
(De Kay).

This fish has innumerable scientific names, while it can
scarcely be said to have any distinctive popular one.
Bass, either alone or with some additional appellation, is
applied by common usage to almost the entire perch fam-
ily, one of the largest among the American fishes, while
scientific men are at as great a loss for appropriate nomen-
clature or accurate distinctions. There are probably
several species classed under the same name as this fish,
and itself differs greatly in color and appearance, accord-
ing to its food, water or locality. There is no doubt that
all fish, and more especially trout, change their hues
according to the color of the water they inhabit, or even
to the light or shade of their favorite haunts. It is sup-
posed that they assimilate to the bottom where they are
found, a provision of nature to protect them from their
enemies of the air. Unquestionably the same species
present a very different appearance in clear, limpid
streams, and in muddy, sluggish brooks. Black Bass are
said to possess of themselves the power to change their
color at will, and have been known to do so repeatedly
when confined in a vessel of water. They are found to

10
218 BLACK BASS.

have black, green and yellow sides, according to circum-
stances, and often within a short distance of one another,
though their backs are generally dusky black.

The gill-cover has two flat points, the teeth are minute,
while the back fin, though single, is partly divided into
two. It contains ten hard and fourteen soft rays; the
pectoral has eighteen’ soft rays, the ventral six, the first
one almost spinous, the anal three spines, the first very
short, and twelve soft rays, and the tail sixteen soft rays.
This fish has been confounded with the Lake Huron Black
Bass, /uro nigricans, which is now supposed to be a
different variety, characterized by two longitudinal lines
or stripes running the entire length of its body.

The gill-rays are six and the fin-rays, as given by Dr.
De Kay, are as follows, but I think liable to consider-
able variation.

D. 9.1.14; P.18; V.5; A. 3.12; C. 163.

Black Bass, belonging as they do to the perch family,
have many of the habits and can be captured in the
same manner as their congeners. But, as they are infi-
nitely superior in flavor, they are equally so in game and
sporting qualities. They will take minnows, shiners,
grasshoppers, frogs, worms, or almost anything else that
can be called a bait, and like all fish, prefer the live to
the dead. They may be fished for with good stout
tackle, gut leaders, a reel, and an ordinary bass rod, in the
same manner as fish are generally captured by boys and
blockheads. In June they affect the grassy bottom in
water fifteen to twenty feet deep, but as the season
advances they resort to the rocky shoals and rapid cur-
rents, where they are taken on and after the middle of
BLACK ° BASS. 219

July by sportsmen with the fly. They may be captured
by casting the fly as for salmon or trout, and this is by
far the most sportsmanlike way, but the most destructive
and usually resorted to is trolling. For casting, a two-
handed seventeen foot salmon rod is preferable, while for
trolling, a short bass rod is the thing. By anchoring
your boat to the windward of. a shoal, or by walking out
on some point of rocks, you can command a great extent
of water with your fly-rod, and have royal sport alone,
whereas for trolling an oarsman is indispensable.

The flies to be used are the ordinary small-sized salmon
flies, not too gaudy, though the first dropper and tail fly
may be larger and made of white and ibis feathers
mixed. In casting you will use your ordinary cast, but
in trolling you may attach five or six flies to a long sal-
mon leader at equal distances, and will frequently take
several fish at a time. My experience has convinced me
that a number of flies attract fish, whether trout or bass,
and the more you can conveniently use the greater will
be your success.

Black bass abound in the northern waters, where they
are invariably trolled for with two rods, one on each

“side of the boat, in the same manner as in taking pick--
erel, but two rods are a great additional trouble, for
when a fish strikes one the ethek has to be reeled up by
your boatman, lest the hooks sink to the bottom. If the
boat is kept in motion, it is almost impossible to reel in
a large bass, and would make a labor of a pleasure, even
if he should be eventually captured.

A small trolling spoon is excellent bait, probably pre-
ferable to the fly at all seasons except the middle of
220 BLACK BASS.

July, when the eel-fly, the principal food of ine bass, is
just disappearing, and the artificial fly is then a ‘uxury.
In case a spoon ?s used, the shank of the hook is usually
wound with ibis feathers, and a Buel’s patent is the
favorite. It has been recommended at times to fasten a
forked piece of -pickerel tongue on the bend of your fly-
hook, but like a similar direction as to.a worm ona trout
fly-hook, I have no faith in it. Another successful bait
that has, in my opinion, more reputation than value, is
the kiil-devil, a creature that is beyond my powers of
description, and must be seen to be appreciated.

The hours and days favorable for fishing are,:in the
main, similar for all fish ; if the water is deep or turbid
there may be an exception, but generally a southwesterly
wind, a cloudy sky, and the morning and evening hours,
will yield the best sport. This is so for black bass, and
‘the more wind the better, until it becomes difficult to
row and manage the boat. In the western wilds, where
deer are plentiful, an attractive fly is made by tying a
white and red tuft of deer’s hair along the shank of the
hook ; the thread being passed round the middle of the
tuft, allows the upper part of the hairs to be bent back
by the motion through the water, giving an appearance
of life to the bait.

An ingenious mode of proceeding is suggested in
Brown’s Angler’s Guide, that is worthy of young Ameri-
can genius, to which it is attributed. A boy having
caught a sun-fish, runs his hook through its nose and out
at its mouth, covering the point with a lively worm.
Other sun-fish, seeing their fellow have all to himself a
fine, fat worm which he seems unable to master, collect
BLACK BASS. 291

round him, and by their numbers attract the bass, who

dashes in among them, and while the rest make off,

swallows the one with the worm, and of course himself

falls a prey to the ingenious young fisherman. This, ,
like the use of cray-fish, mice, swallows, and many othez

baits, may be excellent, but I have never tried it or

them; so long as the fish will take a fly, I fish with

nothing else ; it is infinitely more exciting to kill one fish

on the fly than ten with bait.

Black bass are taken among the Thousand Isles. in
immense numbers, but not of any great size, rarely
exceeding three pounds. In Lake Champlain, near
Rouse’s Point, and in the lakes of Canada, they grow
larger. The largest, probably, never exceeding eight
pounds. They are taken in most of the waters of the
northern and northwestern States, especially in the
Niagara and Detroit rivers, Lake St. Clair, Lake Erie‘
and Lake Huron. They make their appearance from
deep water in May and June, grow to great excellence
in July and August, but are in theif best condition in
September and October. They are a fine, noble game
fish, and where trout are not to be had are well worthy
of the sportsman’s attention; when captured, which can
only be done by skill and care, they prove an zor liene
addition to the table.

The fish usually known as trout at the Routh, albeit
that name is applied to many varieties, is a species of .
black bass, and is taken by trolling with a rod and short
line before the boat as it is rowed along.
299 ROCK BAS

CHAPTER XXIII.
ROCK BASS.

Centrarchus Ameus.—This is an entirely distinct spe-
cies from the Black Bass, though, being somewhat similar
in color and shape, is often confounded with them. The
same may be said of the Oswego Bass, which is now
ascertained to be equally. distinct, though commonly
known as bass, and supposed to be identical. The fish .
under consideration must in no wise be confounded with
the Rock-fish of Pennsylvania, which is the Striped Bass,
Labrax lineatus, and which the benighted Pennsylva-
nians would oblige us by calling by its right name.

The Rock Bass has two flat points at the angle of the
gill-cover, and is distinguished from the variety last de-
scribed by six or seven spines and eleven soft rays in the
anal fin. The dorsal has eleven spines, and ten or twelve
soft rays; the pectoral fourteen soft rays, the ventral one
spine and five soft rays, and the gill-rays are six. The
fin-rays are given by Dr. De Kay as follows:

De Tides Fas Yolo As Gil} C. 18,

This fish is found in much the same waters as the
black bass, and, like the latter, made its way on the com-
pletion of the Champlain canal through it into the Hudson
River. It takes any of the ordinary baits, preferring,
however, the cray-fish, Astacus Bartoni, and can be
ROCK BASS. 293

captured even with the fly, but not readily. In the St.
Lawrence River it feeds mostly on the eel-fly, so long as
that lasts, choosing, I believe, the dead ones; and in
July I have found them filled with that fly. They never
attain the size of the larger black bass, although they
are taken of over three pounds, but are a brave, vora-
cious fish, and excellent at table.
Lo
19
~

THE PIKE PERCH.

x

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE PIKE PERCH.

Lucioperca Americana.—tThis fish is mentioned more
on account of the absurd misnomers that have been
applied to it, to warn persons against similar errors, than
on account of its sporting qualities. There appears to
be some confusion among. naturalists concerning this
family ; there is probably an undescribed species. Dr.
De Kay mentions a bluish fish which he regarded not as
a distinct variety, but as an aged specimen. By a close
comparison of the two, I am satisfied that although the
scientific peculiarities are wonderfully alike, there are
substantial differences.

The Pike Perch is called the Glass-eye, the Big-eyed
Pike, the Pickerel, Pickering, and Pike of the Lakes;
whereas a simple suggestion will establish the difference
between it and the pikes or pickerel. The latter has all
the fin-rays soft, and the ventrals in the centre of the
abdomen, whereas this fish, which is a true perch, has
many spinous rays, and the ventrals close beneath and
just behind the pectorals.

The Pike Perch is of an olive color on the back, yel-
lowish on the sides, and white beneath. It attains a
weight of thirty pounds, and is distinguished particularly
by the peculiarity of having the menibrane attached te
THE PIKE PERCH. 295

the last two rays of the first dorsal jet black, whereas
that attached to the other rays is yellow. The lower
edge of the gill-cover has been described as smooth, but
I find the fore part of it slightly serrated; the posterior
part has one flat spine, beyond which there is a pointed’
membrane, and above a rudimentary spine. There is a
series of sharp teeth on both jaws and the gill-arches,
two in the front of each jaw being long and conspicuous.
The base of the’tongue is roughened but toothless, and I
can find no teeth on the vomer. The scales are not large,
and have the edges marked out by a series of dots.
The fins, as I make them, aré—
Br. 7; D. 13.2.20; P.10; V.1.5; A, 1.14; 0. 178.
But according to Dr. De Kay they are—
Br. 7; D. 18.1.21; P.15; V.1.5; A. 114; 0. 178.
The color of the anal is reddish yellow; of the ven-
trals light yellow, and pectorals yellowish olive. There
are scales on the gill-covers ; those on the fore gill-cover
being scattered and few. Beyond these differences my
examination found the ordinary pike of the lakes to ac-
cord with the description of Dr. De Kay; but the other
species that I have mentioned was very different both in
color and appearance, and is, as I conceive, the true
Ohio salmon, a name that has been applied to the spe-
cies just described.
As for the color in the latter species, that was totally
different, being so far like the salmon as to have no
doubt given origin to the name. It is bluish grey on.
the back, greyer on the sides, and white on the abdomen,
“The only part of membrane of the dorsal of the salmon
that is black is that attached to the last spine alone of
10*
296 THE PIKE PERCH.

the first dorsal. The shape of the fore gill-cover is
slightly different, and the spines on its edge are more
distinct and regular, like teeth. There are no bats on
any fin except the dorsal; there are no scales on the gill-
cover, and the fins are all light and transparent. There
are minute teeth on the base of the tongue.

The fish that this description is taken from were found
in New York market on the 25th day of February, and
may have been altered by their winter dress; but they
were unknown to the fish-dealers, one of whom called
my attention to them and inquired their name. They
did not weigh over a pound, and the largest was fifteen
inches long, of which the head was four. Of the dorsal,
the second, third and fourth rays were the longest.
Being but a sportsman, I mention these matters to attract
the attention of the learned, who would do us a favor if
they would seek out the old Indian names to apply to
our anonymous fish.

There is a third described species of Zuctoperca or pike
perch, as the word means; JZucioperca grisea, that is
found in the limits of New York, as well as the Zucio-
perca canadensis, which belongs to Canada.

It is to be observed that Dr. De Kay puts the length
of the luctoperca americana at 14.5, but says they are
occasionally much larger ; whereas the fish known as the
pike of the lakes is taken in immense quantities in Lake
Ontario, in April, of twenty pounds’ weight, and rarely
falls below five. There is a small pike perch known as
the sorga, with the same general characteristics, but with _
the membrane attached to the last spine-ray of the first
dorsal alone black. The back is yellow mottled with
THE PIKE PERCH. 227

black, and shaded down the sides to white on the abdo-
men; the first dorsal is yellow with dusky spots; the
second dorsal and tail yellow with dusky bars; the gill-
cover is scaled and the fore gill-cover partly scaled. It
is precisely the shape of what I call the Ohio salmon
but of a totally different color. Its length is about
twelve inches, and its weight does not exceed a pound.
The fin-rays are—

Br. 7; D. 12.1.18; P. 12; V.5; A.1.41; C. 178.

There are unquestionably at least three distinct varie-
ties, besides the grey and the Canadian pike perch ;
they are popularly known as the pike the sorga, and the
Ohio salmon, and all are highly esteemed for the
table.

 
228 THE YELLOW PERCH.

CHAPTER XXV.
THE YELLOW PERCH.

Perca Flavescens.—The Yellow Perch has, as his
name indicates, a predominant yellow color on his
sides; there are a number of dark vertical bars over
the. back, and the pectorals, ventrals and anal are
orange. The gill-cover is serrated beneath and armed
with a long spine, and the fore gill-cover has a toothed
margin. There are two dorsals; the ventrals are be-
neath and slightly behind the pectorals, and the teeth
are minute. The greatest weight is four or five pounds.
The fin-rays are as follows—

D.13.2.153 V.15% A. 2.83 C. 178.

Unfortunately, this fish, equally despised by the
gourmand and the sportsman, abounds in our fine ponds
and lakes, that ought to be devoted to his noble con-
gener, the black bass. He will take the fly if it is
allowed to rest in the water, and after hooking a trout
that had fouled in the weeds, I have found a perch on
the second fly. He spawns in April or May, seeking
the sandy shore, near projecting roots, where there is
a depth of a foot of water. I have seen them crowd-
ed together, male and female, jostling and following one
another round and round through the roots, pressing out
milt and spawn, and so busily engaged that they could
THE YELLOW PERCH. 224

be taken with the net or the hand. In mere wantonness
and desire to diminish their numbers I destroyed all I
could, hanging them on strings with the spawn stream-
ing from them. The eggs, which were almost trans-
parent, were in the water in masses, kept together by
a glutinous substance, and each marked with a black
spot, and could be taken up in the net, straining slowly
through the meshes.

Yellow perch will take worm or minnow, preferring
the former, and it is probable destroy numbers of
young trout. Their flesh is coarse, white and tasteless.
They are pursued only by boys and ladies.

 

 
930 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

CHAPTER XXVI.

PROPAGATION OF FISH.

TuerE is no subject more important to the material
welfare of our country, or that a persistent and willful
disregard of the laws of nature has rendered more neces-
sary, than the culture of the various tribes of fish that
were once abundant in our rivers and lakes and along
our coasts, but which are rapidly diminishing, and
threaten soon to become extinct. How sad it is to think
that once the glorious salmon leaped- and frisked in the
quiet waters of our noble Hudson, and sought bowers of
love in its cool sources ; that they were formerly so plenty
in the Connecticut, as I have already mentioned, that a
person buying shad was required to take a proportion of
salmon. How great the loss, not merely to us sports-
men, but to the long-headed political economists, who
calculate to a penny all that a nation would bring if put
up at auction, and look at everything as a source of
wealth.

Thousands of dollars are sent yearly to Nova Scotia
and the Canadas to pay for salmon that even there are
rapidly diminishing, whereas, with a little public spirit,
they might abound at our own doors. There is no doubt
that all these streams might be restored, and many others
supplied with salmon, at little expense and less trouble
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 931

in fact, the sportsmen would take the affair into their
own hands, if the proper legislation could be obtained.
But so long as private individuals are allowed to dam
the water-courses by an obstruction so constructed that
the fish cannot surmount it, so long will private enter-
prise and public effort Both be in vain. A dam, no mat-
ter how high, is rendered entirely harmless by being pro-
vided with a narrow sluiceway or flume, a few feet wide
and leading to the'water beneath, or by boxes placed
one below another, making a number of small leaps.
This the salmon can surmount, even with a moderate
depth of water, and will, if left undisturbed, readily
ascend at night. It occasions no loss to the proprietor,
is built at little expense; and yet the want of it has cost
our State alone millions. It is now required in the dams
of Lower Canada, where effective laws lave lately been
found necessary to preserve the fish even there from
annfhilation, and could be introduced on all our streams
for one-tenth the annual tax we pay to the British Pro-
vinces for salmon. With the destruction of the forests,
saw-mills, those enemies of fish-kind, have greatly dimin-
ished, and could easily be so regulated as to do no harm,
and as the same thing may be said of the tanneries, there
need be nothing to drive the fish away were the waters
replenished. This we sportsmen will undertake to do, if
our legislature will, for a few moments, forget Republi-
can and Democrat, and attend to the interests of their
constituents by passing laws similar to these enacted for
the Canadas.

It is strange indeed that, while we pay a heavy bounty
to our countrymen engaged in the cod fisheries, we
232 PROPAGATION: OF FISH.

should be unwilling to adopt the simplest legislation to
preserve, foster and protect our other fishing interests.
Cod are not generally considered equal to salmon or
trout, and although at present more numerous, a few
years of culture might bring the latter extensively into
competition. I am not in a position to give statistics,
but the salmon that are sold in our markets fresh and
smoked, to say nothing of that which is pickled, must
amount to millions annually. No one single subject is
so important and so capable of adding to the wealth of
our country as the re-stocking our rivers with their
natural inhabitants.

There is a very erroneous impression, encouraged, too,
it is shame to say, by Smith, in his work on the fish of
- Massachusetts, that the wild creatures of.the woods and
waters must, in the nature of things, disappear before
man. Now, although this is a lamentable fact, it is not
a necessary consequence, and there is nothing in man’s
capturing fish or killing game, properly and reasonably,
that will seriously diminish their numbers. Fish and
~ birds prey on one another; for every large trout a man
takes he saves a hundred small ones; for every hawk he
catches hovering over his barnyard, and kills, he saves a
‘ hundred quail, and thus, although he kills them himself,
he preserves them from vermin, from one another, and
from birds of prey. If he will add to this a very little
care and protection of the young, he will increase the
supply a thousand fold.

It is calculated that the roe of one shad or cod would
stock the world, but that not one egg in a million arrives
at maturity. The lowest calculation of the roe of a

wr
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 233

pound trout is’ five hundred, and I belfeve it frequently
exceeds a thousand, and salmon have many ‘more. Con
ceive, for a moment, if each female trout produced one-
hundred mature fish, which in three years would each
produce one hundred more, the incredible number that
would exist.

The waters of the earth are able, if as well tilled,
of supporting as many as the land; and there is no
reason why they should net be cultivated. Nothing is
simpler; as with the land a savage may scratch up the
earth sufficiently with a stick to support himself and
family, a scientific farmer, with proper tools, would in
the same ground support a hundred times as many; so
with the Water, a careless, lazy person will get one fish
for ten eggs, while a fhoronph-golngs careful laborer will
bring to perfection almost all.

This may be done with only the labor, which, in fact,
is the greatest of pleasures, and at the small expense of
feeding the fish. Young fry require fine food, such as
meat or fish grated, but as they grow older, devour
almost anything. Ronalds, the author of the “ Fly-fisher’s
Entomology,” having dosed them with cayenne pepper
and mustard, found it not in the least disagreeable or
apparently injurious.

If this were an attempt to introduce fish where they
had never before existed, there might be some doubt of
its success, but it is merely following a course adopted in
England and France with astonishing results, by which
many streams that liad been as totally depopulated as
the Hudson, and none could be more so, have been
entirely restocked, and are now sources of great profit to
934 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

their owners. There is nothing, therefore, in the least
startling or original about the undertaking, and it
requires public aid only because rivers are never here
owned, as in England, by one great proprietor. It
applies to all our fresh water and most of our salt water
fish, and is in full operation upon some of the smaller
ponds in this country. Where the fish are open to all,
there is not sufficient interest for one person to under-
take their culture, and as this,must always be the case
with salmon, their production must be made either a
question of public interest or private enthusiasm. The
latter, with the sanction of the former, will be fully suf-
ficient for the purpose.

One invariable peculiarity of the American people is,
that they attack, overturn and annihilate, and then
laboriously reconstruct. Our first farmers chopped down
the forests and shade trees, took crop after crop'of the
same kind from the land, exhausted the soil and made
bare the country ; they hinted and fished, destroying
first the wild animals, then the birds, and finally the fish,
till in many places these ceased utterly from off the fain
of the earth; and then, when they had finished their
work, that race of gentlemen moved west to renew the
same course of destruction. After them came the re-
storers; they manured the land, left it fallow, put in
practice the rotation of crops, planted shade and fruit
trees, discovered that birds were useful in destroying
insects and worms, passed laws to protect them where
they were not utterly extinct, as with the pinnated
grouse, of Pennsylvania and Long Island, and will,
I predict, ere long restock the streams, rivers and
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 935

ponds with the best of the fish that once inhabited
them.

Another utterly erroneous impression exists that steam-
boats and river craft frighten away the denizens of the
deep, and the disappearance of striped bass in Hell Gate
is brought forward as an evidence. But the.proof does
not sustain the proposition; it cannot be doubted that
the fish have diminished, but in Hell Gate the change
was produced by blowing out Pot Rock and destroying
the best eddy. It may be well to remark, for the bene-
fit of the benighted individuals who do not reside in the
city of New York, that Pot Rock was situated in the
centre of Hell Gate, and being only some seven feet
under water, was as much admired by the bass as it was
dread2d by the steamboats, till the United States Govern-
ment employed a French gentleman to blow it to pieces
with gunpowder, so that there should be twenty-one feet
of water over it at low tide. Since this was done the
bass have left in disgust, and the steamboats have had
the better of it, which they never would have had unless
aided by gunpowder anda Frenchman. Of course, fish
are not so numerous as they were fifty years ago, when
there.was little market for them, but the net is to be
blamed rather than the steamboat.

The first attempt at artificial fish-culture in Europe
was made by Messrs. Gehen and Remy, in France,.
although it appears to have been known to and prac:
tised by the Chinese for centuries, and by the Germans
a hundred years previously. In 1850, the attention of
the French government was called to their efforts, and
M. Milne Edwards was appointed by the Minister of
236 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

Agriculture to examine into the subject. His report was
so favorable and so fully confirmed by subsequent inves-
tigation, that the government took the matter under
their own care, established extensive works, stocked to
repletion many of the rivers, and- now supply all France
with impregnated egg or young fry of the best varieties.

In England, that land of sportsmen, the discovery was
hailed with enthusiasm, and put in immediate and suc-
cessful operation. Millions of trout and salmon were
hatched, and the results were truly wonderful. Rivers
that had ceased to afford a single fish were made to teem
with them, and large revenues were obtained from the
fishing rights. Over a million fish were introduced into
the waters of one company, and surprising discoveries
were made as to their growth. In Scotland, a large
number of young salmon or smolts, being one year old
and averaging an ounce weight, were marked by cutting
off the adipose dorsal fin of every hundredth fish, and
allowed’to descend to the sea. They returned in two: or
three months, the smallest weighing three pounds and a
half, and the largest nine pounds and a half. Suppose
that one hundred thousand out of the three hundred
thousand hatched returned, having gained an average
weight of five pounds, and worth in New York market
forty cents a pound, will some one that is good at figures
please calculate the hook and net profits..

Very confused ideas of the growth of fish are popularly
entertained ; numerous contradictory statements are to
be found in the books and to be heard from sportsmen,
but the truth is generally missed; in fact, everything
depends upon the food. A strong fish grows the fastest ;
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 237

the larger he becomes the more he is able to seize and bear
away from his brethren. Hence, in the same hatching,
I have seen trout at one year of age, the largest of which
was six inches long and the smallest less than three. In
two years, with good feeding and_.a variety of food, such
as is always to be found in a newly-made pond, they will
grow to weigh three-quarters of a pound. In overstocked
streams, like our country brooks, where there is little on
which to feed, trout never attain any considerable size ;
the greater number will not exceed a few ounces, and a
pound fish is looked upon with awe.

The migratory trout that go to the sea in Winter grow
much faster than those that remain in the fresh water,
and will frequently gain a pound in one season. With
this explanation, these differences of opinion are perfectly
reconcilable, one observer having drawn his conclusions
from individuals luxuriating on the fat of the land, or
rather water, and another drawing his from some poor,
half starved specimens. Range of water is indispensable
to the attainment of great size ; there is no species but is
puny in confined limits—a result that follows naturally
from the first statement; in large streams and lakes
there is greater variety and abundance of food; but they
will increase rapidly if well fed, no matter thom restricted
their dwelling-place. Frequently a trout kept in a
spring will attain several pounds in weight in conse-
quence of being well served by the children of the house-
hold. A gourmand will find his advantage in having
them stall-fed, if possible, before being killed for the table.

Three-year old trout spawn, and it is said that small
trout have smaller eggs than those of greater size and
238 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

age, that the young of the latter are larger and grow
faster than those of the former; but my observation has
not convinced me that this is the case. The spawning
season commences about the middle of October, and, lasts
nearly two months, some fish, like hens, laying and hatch-
ing earlier than others; a great convenience to the
breeder, who is not hurried by their coming in all to-
gether. Of course, the young appear at different times,
the first about the ninth: of January and the last in
March ; they take about sixty days to hatch, according
to the weather and water. When they first appear, the
body of the egg, like a bag, adheres to the abdomen,
and its absorption forms their supportefor thirty days,
after which they must be fed with pieces of worm, of
raw or cooked fish, and of raw or cooked meat grated or
pounded fine or with boiled blood. They eat, also, small
animalcule in the spring-water, flies or insects that float
upon its surface, and are especially fond of the micro-
scopic animals in stagnant pools, and I should suppose
of the minute worms generated in boiled flour allowed
to turn sour. But contrary to the generally received
opinion, I warn breeders to keep frogs from their trout
ponds ; as these live on the young fish. Although, the
trout may fancy frog’s spawn, which is questionable, the
latter more than return the compliment by preferring
the young fish entire, My attention was particularly
attracted to the fact that around the pond where the fry
lived, the frogs were abundant, while there were none in
the preserve of the big fish. I concluded they were
afraid of the latter, till one day I caught and threw a frog
to them, and found, much to my surprise, they would
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 239

not swallow him. Being some hundreds together, they
struck at him as they would at a stick if thrown upon
the water, but immediately dropped and let him escape
to land. Although I tried the experiment over and over
again, they had found out what he was, and now would
not touch him.

‘To complete my enlightenment, I only wanted an
experience which was destined soon to be furnished. I
had an aquarium in which were kept, among a quantity
of small minnows and other fish, a frog that had ex-
panded from a tadpole, together with several tadpoles
that were expanding rapidly. The frog had attained a
respectable size,,and was a great favorite, from the readi-
ness and suddenness with which he seized and devoured
flies offered to him, and was endeared to our hearts by
several hair Srentith escapes, such as jumping out of the
aquarium and being lost for days round the room, and
even falling out of the window, through the area grating
into the cellar. He was wondrously solemn, but had a
way of darting on a fly that was aely fatal. We
began to observe, however, that our small fish disap-
peared strangely, “leaving not a wreck behind,” and
always at a time when the frog seemed to have suddenly
grown in circumference. This continued till my suspi-
cions connected the two together, and one day we abso-
lutely saw him'seize and swallow a minnow half as long
as his own body. His plan was to remain perfectly
motionless till his destined prey. swam near, when he
would make one spring, and devour it at a gulp. In
spite of his cannibal propensities, we kept him, although
we could often see the shape of a fish under his extended
240 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

sides, and our aquarium was nearly depopulated, till at.
last he swallowed one of his brother tadpoles, and our
sense of justice constrained us to banish him to the
country. :

The reason that the frogs collected round the breed-
ing-pond was now perfectly apparent, and doubtless
hundreds of fish paid for their presence. Give the
fry something safer than frog spawn; they obtain
so much from the water they need little extraneous
food. The first thing, however, is to get the young trout
to feed.

It may be well to remark that salmon and trout are
the most difficult of all fish to breed; they require more
care, and have to be watched closely in consequence of
certain unfortunate habits. For instance, they will eat
one another ; a trout of twelve inches will dispose of one
of six and think nothing of it, and this no matter how
well he is fed. Perhaps he has been offended, but
it rather seems to me an experiment to see how
capacious his swallow is. When large and small
are together, the latter, being the most active, are
invariably first to seize the bait or food; no man ever
caught at the first cast the largest trout out of a shoal.
While the smaller ones are busy with the food, the larger
seize them, sometimes even by mistake, I fancy, in
making a rush at the same morsel, and if they are caught
by the gills, good bye to them. After a struggle, they
get ended round, and down they go head foremost, their
tails often waving out of the destroyer’s mouth for hours,
a sad memento of their untimely fate. Fish of one year
will devour those of the next, and a friend of mine lost
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 241

thousands by a yearling happening accidentally to get
among the fry just hatched.

The ponds from which my experience is mostly drawn
I have no part nor parcel in, further than what may be
claimed from having furnished extensive advice; but I
have taken a deep interest in their success, and if I speak
of them as my ponds and my experiments, the party that
really made them will understand and excuse me, and
the public will comprehend that no egotism is intended.

They are five, and will soon be more, built of gravelly
sand along a bank that is filled with pure, clear springs,
and about five feet deep. In the first place, the musk-
rats are annoying, having in one instance tunnelled a
dam and let out over a hundred breeders, and when the
expense is not an object, it is well to put a fence of
boards or even stone-work in the middle of the dam.
These ponds all communicate with one another at the
surface of the water by a sluiceway that can be closed
at pleasure, and each can be drawn off dry separately.
In that which might be called the highest, and communi-
cates directly with the principal springs, are placed a
row of boxes about twelve feet square and one foot deep,
divided into compartments by divisions of wood, with
openings cut to let the water circulate. The boxes are
kept on a level by being supported on stout pegs driven
into the sand, and are filled about half full of pure white
gravel, leaving the water about four inches deep. There
is an open passageway to the outside and through the
partitions, whereby the fish can enter, and doors, com-

osed mainly of wire, keep off leaves and twigs that
would foul the water, but can be lifted at pleasure.

J
242 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

These boxes become more or less covered yearly with a
green aquatic growth that is always found in spring
water, and need a good scrubbing every Fall before they
are used. The gravel need not be changed, and the
water will carry off the sediment as the scrubbing liber-
ates it.

The fish, however, do not confine themselves to these
boxes, but, spawn all over the pond in every little scour
that the spring water makes; for as yet we have not
tried extruding the eggs artificially, having attained suffi-

_cient success in the natural method.

. The breeders, of which there are about three hundred,
oceupy two of the ponds, and the others are used for Baap.
ing the fish of the various years separate; at the age of
two they are safe to be trusted and may be said to be of
full age, and even in twelve months have learned a great
deal about taking care of themselves. Some of the breed-
ers weigh about a pound and a half, and anything less
than six inches left among them would be devoured at once.
They were originally taken on their spawning beds with
a scap-net, but are now kept over from year to year,
thriving well on minnow and meat, their principal food.
In order to spawn, trout seek the narrow and shallow
spring runs, where they can always be found in pairs,
and, with a little skill, caught in a net or taken with the
fly—for I utterly deny that they will not feed when
*spawning—and can be accumulated in that way from
year to year till a large number is obtained. While
the small trout are in the breeding-pond, the large
ones are rigidly excluded, but when they have been
removed, by drawing off the water into the lower ponds,
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 2438

and the spawning season has arrived, the communica-
tion with the stew-pond is opened and the breeders
let in. They do all their pairing, making their beds,
spawning and milting of themselves without human
help, and are allowed to remain till about the first of
January, when the pond is isolated again and drawn off,
so that they can be captured with a scap-net and
returned to their former habitation. Care must be taken
to handle them as little as possible, as handling rubs
away their natural slime, and induces a sort of white
fungus that will sometimes prove fatal. And you must
give heed to your steps while netting the fish, lest you
tread upon a spawning bed, which can be recognized by
its being free from mud and leaves.

The fish, when they have determined the locality of
their nest, clear away the sand and deposit the ova upon
the clean pebbles, the male impregnating them at the
same time. They will eat one another’s spawn, and the
male is ever on the watch to guard his wife from such
an outrage. After the eggs have all been exuded, the
parents fan the sand over, covering them entirely from
sight. This is an important matter, which the artificial
breeders omit, and the omission of which, doubtless,
leads to the destruction of many eggs by fungus and
sediment. In artificial breeding, I should strongly
recommend that eggs covered with clean sand should
be tested in comparison with those uncovered. A num-
ber of the eggs, after having thus been deposited, were
removed and exposed uncovered to the water: they died
in a few days and turned. white.

The eggs when first exuded are a brilliant golden
244 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

orange, but when impregnated change to a pale, trans-
parent yellow, with a sinall black spot in the centre, and
on losing their vitality turn white. When one dies in
artificial breeding, it communicates disease to the rest
unless it is removed, but in the natural method the cov-
ering of sand isolates them and appears to prevent this.
The water must flow steadily, and, if not sufficiently
fresh and abundant, should be allowed to fall in little

cascades, to give it life. As the operation proceeds, the
change in the egg can be readily seen with the micro-
scope, the cells of which it is composed clustering to one
side. Any one curious on this subject is referred to Dr.
Garlick’s interesting little work on fish culture.

Every old fish having been carefully removed, the
_breeding-pond is refilled immediately, and the young,
awkward, unwieldy little infants, soon make their appear-
ance, and after their thirty days of self-sustenance are fed
on worms cut in small pieces, on gr ‘ated or pounded fish or
meat cooked. Before Summer is over they are a few
inches long, and are driven down into their new home
by again drawing off the water of the breeding-pond
into the latter, and frightening them into it.

The number raised in this manner is perfectly surpris-
ing. From about one hundred breeders, male and female,
we produced over seven thousand fish, the latter fact being
determined not by guesswork but by actual count. An
average of nearly one hundred and fifty young, in spite
of frogs and accidents. One is apt to under-estimate in-
stead of exaggerating the number by guessing ; they are
so small and lie so quiet that they almost escape obser-
vation.
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 245

The foregoing is all that it is necessary to do to raise
fish in abundance ; the main point is their protection, and
this is effected by not allowing them to enter the open
water till their second or even third season. Nothing is
more entertaining than to feed the full-grown fish, and
enjoy their breaking at. sticks and weeds in their eager-
ness and confusion ; this they will often do one after ano-
ther for twenty times. Their slow motions till they per-
ceive the prey, and then the ferocity of their rushes,
assimilates them to the dreaded salt water shark. With
watchful eye they move cautiously about, but woe to
the fly or minnow that touches the surface! A dozen
rush at it and fling themselves into the air, turn-
ing suddenly on their sides by a flap of their tails, and
disappear as instantly, one of them with the victim in
his mouth.

The natural method of propagating fish, though abun-
dantly successful, and so simple that there is no skill
required to perform it, cannot be expected to equal the
results effected by artificial fecundation. The latter,
however, requires considerable care, and although a total
failure is almost an impossibility, neglect will result in
great loss. Each trout should produce geveral hun-
dred young, and if a business is intended to be made of
it, the artificial method must be pursued.

The first consideration, therefore, is to obtain a male
and female fish, fully prepared to spawn. This is deter-
mined by the ease with which the eggs and milt can be
pressed from them ; for if it requires more than the light-
est pressure, the spawn will not be mature, and the
parent’s life may be destroyed if the operation is per-
246 PROPAGATION. OF FISH. -
sisted in. The only entire failure I ever heard of was
effected in this manner, a friend succeeding in killing
several fish without raising one.

Where there can be made a convenient stew-pond,
with a gravelly head-water or springy sides, there is no
difficulty, as the fish may be taken at any time, and may
be kept here till the proper season arrives. But it is
said, though on questionable authority, if there are no
appropriate spawning-beds at hand, the nature of the fish
changes, and they either delay or cease spawning altoge-
ther. The roe is incased in a skin, the rupture of which
will produce death till the time of maturity, when it is
absorbed and the eggs lie free in the abdomen and can
be readily extruded.

The female is taken in the jan when ready—and
observe that fish as well as other animals will be gentle
in proportion as they are handled gently—the abdomen
is pressed carefully with the other hand, the eggs are
forced out and allowed to fall into a basin or pail of pure
fresh spring water. When all the spawn is deposited, it
is as well to agitate it with a feather, and, if there is
extraneous matter, to pour off and renew the water.
The male fish is then taken and treated in the same way,
the milt being allowed to fall into the same basin and
brought into thorough contact with the eggs by the use
of the feather again. The milt of one male will answer
for the spawn of several females, and it is said that the
milt will be renewed in the male in the course of a few
days ; but this, not corresponding at all wth the female, is
at least doubtful. The reason of the superabundance of
milt over the roe is a simple provision of nature to make
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 947

up for the quantity that must inevitably be washed away
by the water, without coming in contact with the latter
in the natural process.

The impregnation of the eggs may be ascertained by
their alteration in color, exchanging the orange for a
yellow tinge, and by the presence of the black spots, as
in the natural process ; when it is thoroughly effected, the
water is poured off and fresh supplied. Care should be
taken to preserve the most perfect cleanliness; sediment.
is very destructive to the vitality of the embryos.

There are several modes of disposing the spawn,
either in boxes, half full of white pebbles, with sides
perforated with holes, or in wicker baskets, either with
or without pebbles. It is nowhere recommended to
cover the eggs with sand; but as the fish naturally pur-
sues this course, and as great injury is produced by sedi-
ment and delicate aquatic plants, and as disease is com-
municated from one to another, I would decidedly advise
that it should be given a trial, and the comparative
results observed. It would certainly preserve the eggs
from many of their principal dangers from water-bugs
and insects, from dirt and infection, and can do no injury
to the young fry, which, when hatched, readily make
their way through it to the pure water.

These baskets or boxes are arranged in various ways,
according to convenience, and will do well so long as a
pure stream of spring water, about 32 to 35 degrees of
temperature, flows through them, whether directly from
the spring or intermediately through one another. By
allowing a few inches’ fall from one to another, the water
is aérated and its vivifying powers increased. Care must
248 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

be taken to remove the sediment, fungus and minute
plants as they form, together with all eggs that turn
white and die. The boxes should be covered with an
open-work cover, either of lattice-work or wire, to keep
out leaves. A lgrge species of sieve, of galvanized wire,
can be obtained at the stores, and answers well for this
purpose, and also to make doors to the breeding-boxes
and to be fitted over the outlets or communications be-
tween the breeding-ponds, to keep the fish separate.

The water should be four inches deep in the boxes,
and its temperature affects the rapidity of developrhent.
A thorough examination should be made every few days,
and if the sediment increases beyond control, the eggs
may be bodily removed into a clean box. When the
young appear they may be left in the boxes or allowed
to escape into the pond at large, and will take care of
themselves if there be no larger fish around; in the lat-
ter case expect to see them no more. If regularly fed,
large numbers can be kept without trouble or danger in
narrow accommodations until they attain a respectable
size.

Since writing the above I have had an opportunity of
examining Fry’s excellent and thorough little work on
fish-breeding, which, though principally a translation,
exhausts the subject in its present stage, and contains all
the requisite instruction. It is recommended to place
the fecundated ova on willow hurdles suspended in boxes
an inch or thereabout beneath the water, so that they could
be conveniently removed and examined. An excellent
substitute would probably be, what can be found univer-
sally throughout our country, a champagne basket. It
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 949

is asserted that the same water may be used over and
over apain if filtered, and that it may be allowed to
pass from one box to another to an unlimited extent.
That in case aquatic vegetation makes its appearance,
the eggs can be transferred to a clean hurdle. The
reader is solemnly warned against heaping up the eggs
upon one another, a fault entirely inexcusable consider-
ing the small space they occupy, and a good food is sug-
gested in the fecundated eggs and consequent young of
other species. , :

The transportation of fish is one of the most important
subjects that presents itself, and with full grown trout
is one of the most difficult to effect. But the impreg-
nated eggs can be carried with care for hundreds or
thousands of miles with little loss and no inconvenience.
The best and healthiest looking spawn must be selected,
and if it canbe left for a few days to mature after
impregnation, so much the better; it may be deposited
upon sand or the leaves of plants found in the waters it
frequents, placed in a wooden or tin box, and covered
with similar leaves or sand, upon which another layer of
eggs and leaves or sand can be placed, and so on till the
box is full, when it is dipped in water and thoroughly
saturated. The lid is put on to prevent any motion of
the contents, and it can be carried almost any distance
if it is occasionally dipped in water at a low but not a
freezing temperature. Upon arriving at its destination,
the contents are poured out carefully, and the eggs
hatched in the ordinary way.

Young trout a few months old can be transported with
facility in water 20oled with ice. For travelling by rail-

11*
250 PROPAGATION OF FISiL

road, the most convenient plan is to have round zine cans
of about two feet and a half diameter and three feet in
depth, with the top projecting over on the inside, pierced
with minute holes, and carried down into the water for
a short distance, leaving a place in the centre of six
inches diameter, where the ice can be kept without dan-
ger of injuring the fish. On the upper edge of one side,
there is a small door through which the fish can be
poured. By continually renewing the ice, yearlings may
be transported without difficulty, fifty or more in a can.
It is supposed the cold reduces their respiration, or possi-
bly the dissolving ice communicates air to the water.
Trout of half a pound or over cannot be carried more
than a score or even a dozen together, or they will die
in spite of the greatest care in a few hours.

The cans have handles to which ropes are fastened by
broad hooks, and may be suspended from the beams of
the baggage cars, where they sway slowly forward and
back, and do not shake and jolt out the water as they
otherwise would.

It may be well to remark, for the ita of those
desiring to stock trout ponds, that Mr. Aaron S. Vail, of
Smithtown, Long Island, has devoted his attention to the
artificial culture of trout; that he has been very suc-
cessful and is willing to stock ponds with any number of
young trout at reasonable rates, and has generally quite
a number of both young and old fish on hand. I believe
he charges for young trout of one or two months seven
dollars a hundred, but for larger fish of one year or more
he expects five or six dollars a dozen; his expenses of
travel to be paid, but the fish to be charged for as deliv-
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 951

ered alive and healthy at the place of destination. For
more accurate information it would be better to commu-
nicate with him direct, and his breeding apparatus is
well worth a visit.

Besides the trout and salmon the only other fresh
water fish worth breeding is probably the black bass.
There are many localities where the water is too warm
or quiet for trout, which demand cold and rapid currents
flowing from fresh springs. The black bass will thrive
in almost any clear pond with a pebbly or sandy beach
on which they can deposit their ova. Like all the perch
family, they spawn in April and May, and hatch in a
much shorter time than trout, or in about two weeks;
‘they build their nests in the sand, and extrude the milt
and roe by pressing upon or between roots and stones,
and either cover or leave exposed their eggs. They may
be treated in the same manner as trout, but do not
require the running water nor one half the care and-
attention. Their increase is still more rapid. ‘

Undoubtedly the mascallonge could be acclimated and
treated in the same manner, and the striped bass might
be introduced into and confined to the fresh water with
eminent advantage.

-There is also an opportunity for novel and interesting
experiments in the crossing of various species, upon
which there is little definitely known except that it can
be done. The spawn of trout has been impregnated with
the milt of salmon and has produced young, but what
the young were, and whether they were capable of
breeding among themselves, is not settled.

Salmon give a much greater quantity of eggs than the
252 PROPAGATION OF FISH.

trout, estimated at over 10,000 ina medium sized fish.
The young, called usually pinks, remain in the fresh
water one year after hatching, when they are termed
smolts, and descend to the sea, returning in a few months,
generally about the middle of June, weighing from one
to ten pounds, and are then called grilse. After they
have spawned as grilse and again returned to the sea,
they are termed salmon. They grow with astonishing
rapidity in salt water, a large fish doubling his weight
in a little over a month, until a certain size is attained,
when their growth almost ceases. Smolts rise readily at
the fly, and may be mistaken for trout, which they some-
what resemble. I have taken great numbers of them
when fishing for trout in Canada, and was at first some-
what at a loss to tell what they were. Of course I
relieved them carefully of the hook, and returned them
to their native element.

Salmon spawn in pools, on rough, gravelly beds, com-
posed of small stones about the size of a walnut, and ac-
cording to some accounts, require several days to deposit
all the roe and milt. They should be taken by the net
when engaged in this operation, and treated in the same
manner as trout, or placed in a tub where they can be held
by head and tail, and the spawn expressed without
injury. This course may be pursued with all fish whose
weight would render them unmanageable out of water,
but will not generally be found necessary. They spawn
in November or December, hatch in March or April, and
next March or April descend to the ocean. In other
partieulars they do not differ materially from trout, and
the rules for the propagation of the latter will apply
PROPAGATION OF FISH. 258

equally well to them. They remain in the fresh water
during the Winter, descend to the sea early in the Spring,
and return in June. They invariably return to the river
where they have bred, and in the course of their ascent
will overcomé powerful rapids and considerable falls.
For a more full account ‘of their habits, the reader is
referred to the appropriate title.
/,

 
FLIES AND KNOTS. 255

CHAPTER XXVII.

FLIES AND KNOTS.

Ir is generally considered that fly-making cannot be
taught by written instruction, but this depends some-
what on the intelligence of the scholar, who must not
undertake to conceive the result before he has waxed his
thread, but should be content to follow the directions
word by word. At all events there is something that
the experienced, and an immense deal that the partially
instructed beginner may add to his store of knowledge,
and if the following directions will not make a novice
perfect, they may aid him when he has had a few per-
sonal lessons. To tie a fly, the gut should be singed in a
candle or bitten at one end, and the hook’ and thread
waxed to insure the hook’s not coming off, which, when
a fine fish has it in his mouth, is a heart-rending casualty.
Take a few turns with the thread on the shank of the
bare hook, nearly to’ the head, then applying the gut,
whip it firmly on by working back to the bend; under
the last turns at the bend insert whisks for the tail dub-
bing, floss or herl for the body, and tinsel if desired.
The floss, silk and dubbing are generally spun or twisted
in with the thread, and then wound back toward the
shoulder, but they may be wound on before, with, or
after the thread. Care must be taken that the turns
256 ‘FLIES AND KNOTS.

at the bend be firm, and when the material is carried
back, the body is finished with a couple of turns of the
silk, a hackle is then introduced under them and firmly
ly secured. Wind the hackle round the hook at the
place where it is inserted, and when it is sufficiently
thiek, and the fibres which constitute the legs stand out
well, tie it down. Prepare your wings by stripping off
the requisite number of fibres, and tie them on, either
single or divided, and finish off. To make a buzz-fly,
that is, one with the hackles the whole length of the
body instead of only at the shoulder, insert a hackle at
the bend at the same time with the body and-tail, and
twist it round the body after that is put on, and fasten it
at the shoulder. The wings are sometimes laid on point-
ing up the shank, and afterward bent down and brought
in their places. And thus, if any one desires, he may
make a fly.

Few people in this stage of civilization dress their own
trout flies; and although skill in the art will enable you
to make a better selection in your purchases, it is rarely
useful at the riverside. The better plan is to have a great
variety, keep them safe from moths by the use of a linen
bag, and fish often enough to prevent the gut’s decaying.
I have flies that have been in my possession for fifteen
years, and yet seem to be as Pood asever. You would
require a knapsack to keep all the articles requisite to
dress every fly, and would waste half your day in the
operation. Nor is it yet settled that by imitating the ~
natural insect you gain any advantage; one half the most
skillful fishermen assert that the fly, as for instance, the’
scarlet ibis, need resemble nothing on earth, or in the
FLIES AND KNOTS. 257

waters under the earth, and that the sharp-sighted fish are
never deceived by thinking ours the natural insect, but
take him for some new and undescribed species. As for
myself, to use the quaint language of the editor of the
“ Knickerbocker,” “ sometimes I think so, and then again
I don’t, but mostly I do.” On certain occasions it would
seem that the closer the imitation the better, on others the
less the similarity ‘the greater the success. Upon this
question my friends stand like the hackle on a well-
dressed fly, “ every which way.” At any rate, it is no
time to be dubbing when you ought to be fishing, and
if you cast a long line and a light fly and the fish will .
not rise, you may be sure they will not.

The various flies that appear upon the surface of the
numerous and varying waters of our country, from the
borders of Mexico to the confines of Labrador, would fur-
nish the subject for an instructive and interesting work.

The natural flies, whether hatched from the caddis at
the bottom of the streams, or from the burrows in the
ground, or.the knots on the limbs, or the cocoons amid
the leaves of trees, are more numerous than those of any
European country. As a class, they are larger, the
ephemere especially, and although often found to be
similar in general appearance, furnish many species
unknown there. They have never been properly de-
scribed and classified, and no satisfactory work has been
written, at all thorough and reliable, in which an attetnpt
is made to record their nature and habits.

Many of them do not return every year, but seem to
require several seasons to mature, and the earliest fly of
one season may not be that of another. Every observant
258 FLIES AND KNOTS.

fisherman has noticed flies at one time that he may not
see again for a long period, and has found his imitations
of them perfectly useless.

The first tree that puts forth leaves in the spring is the
maple, and its buds are a bright scarlet. As they drop
into and are swept along the surface of the water by the
wind, the fish seize them, no doubt either decoyed by
their appearance or attracted by insects that may be con-
cealed upon or within them. The scarlet ibis resembles
these buds nearer than any other known thing, and is
probably mistaken by the fish for them.

When commencing this work, it had been my inten-
tion not only to describe the artificial flies in general
request, but to give the habits, periods and names of the
natural ones of which they were imitations, without
which latter information the former would have been far
from complete. But the obstacles in my way were so
numerous, the confusion existing as to names, localities,
and times of appearance was so utter, the difficulty of
finding any satisfactory work on the natural insects so
great, that I was almost in despair; on the point, how-
ever, of making the attempt, rash as it appeared, I was
informed that the matter had been undertaken by a friend
of mine, who is every way equal to the task. Although
much relieved, there was still something to be done to
give a general idea of the flies in use with us. On this
subject, the only work existing of any value is the sup-
plement to Frank Forester’s “ Fish and Fishing,” written
by a gentleman who is a thorough sportsman, and along-
side of whom I have often had the pleasure of casting
the fly. The directions in the body of that work itself,
FLIES AND KNOTS. 259

like many other parts of it, are copied from the English
writers, and in our waters are utterly valueless. “The
author, although a splendid sportsman, was not as an
angler acquainted with our trout streams and ponds, and
the contributor of the supplement judged rather too
exclusively from his experience on Long Island.

The first and most striking difference to be observed
between the systems of the two countries is in the com-
parative size of the flies, those of America, following the
natural insect, beng larger, and, probably for a similar
reason, gaudier. It is a remarkable fact that the most
gaudy of all, the scarlet ibis, is prominently successful
alone in the streams of Long Island and of the British
Provinces. As many of the Long Island trout yearly
migrate to the sea, in which peculiarity they resemble
the fish of the latter place, it may be that this fly is only
a favorite with sea-going fish. A little tinsel wound
round the body is supposed to improve its efficiency, as
some fishermen suggest from a resemblance to the prin-
cipal Winter food of the trout, the salt water minnow.

The earliest fly on the Long Island ponds is a dark
water fly, with a brownish red body and legs, and black,
filmy, transparent wings. It is rather large, is wafted
along upon and occasionally risés from the water, and
never appears in any considerable numbers. It is usually
represented by the English or female cow-dung, which,
although not similar in coloring, presents somewhat the
same general appearance. ‘The wings, being transparent,
should not be imitated with a black feather, although J
have had great success when these flies were on the water
with a fly that had black wings and a claret body and
260 FLIES AND KNOTS.

legs. The orange dun, with a body tinged with brown,
would be a good imitation.

The next natural fly, which is smaller-than the last, is
of a greenish yellow, and is also caricatured by the cow-
dung. But it is decidedly recommended to make a more
faithful copy, which the writer has done with eminent
success. In speaking of this matter, it is important to
add that the midges, such as the black gnat and others,
are out earlier, and it is to the larger flies alone that
reference is made. The earliest of the species mentioned
appears in ordinary seasons about the first of March, and
the next about a week later. At this period, and at all
periods, of a bright day a large black gnat with black
hackle, black or dark blue body, silver tinsel at the tail, -
and dark wings, is usually successful.

Shortly after the greenish fly, come many others,
appearing almost together, and among them the cow-
dung and the yellow sally, the latter occasionally fairly
covering the water. About this time the professor an
swers well, although I have never discovered its proto-
type, if it has any, and shortly afterward an unimitated
brown fly, together with the blue blow and cinnamon, and
in warm weather innumerable others. In the latter part
of April and early part of May, the bushes and streams
are alive with the gay little beauties, of every color, size
and shape, and the fish make them their principal food.
But the waters are growing clear, the deception is becom-
ing apparent to the fish’s eye, and the insects, though in
reality larger, must have more delicate substitutes. At
such times a small red bodied fly, with dun wings, has
proved extremely killing, and although large, white,
FLIES AND KNOTS. 261

gelatinous ephemeree swim upon the water, the midges
are on quiet days the most successful ; and when the sky
is bright, subdued colors are in principal demand.

In June there are prominent, among many others,
the black fly, with body, wings, legs and antenne all of
the same sable hue, busy the entire day dancing over the
water a veritable dance of death, for it is often terminat-
ed by the fatal rush-of the watchful trout; a dun fly,
with greyish dun mottled wings, grey legs, and light
green body; another -fly with similar wings, but red
legs, and a tich brown body—none of these having any
whisks in their tails; another beautiful and delicate yel-
low fly, that appears generally in the morning and eve-
ning, and flies heavily and slowly from place to place,
till it falls suddenly, and is forever submerged in the
cruel waters. Its legs, body and wings are yellow, the
latter being the palest, and it has two short whisks and
antennee of the same color. All the foregoing have four
wings, in the black and yellow varieties strongly reticu-
lated, and all but the last swim well under water. Tow-
ard night a frail whitish fly makes its appearance still
more fragile than its yellow compeer ; it has two wings,
a thick body and long whisks. The eyes of the yellow
and white fly are black spots, and although I never have
done much with a white fly, a small yellowish drake was
successful when the yellow flies were abundant. A bet-
ter imitation however could be made of pure yellow.

On one occasion I was struck with the fact that
although I did not know these insects were on the water,
my only successful flies were a yellowish fly, a green-
bodied, dun winged fly, and a similar fly with a brown
262 FLIES AND KNOTS.
body, and I hit on them accidentally after trying a great
variety.

Hackles, in our Long Island ponds, are, by universal
testimony, a failure, and the palmers worthless; and
throughout the breadth and length of our country, the
winged flies are vastly preferable. The hackles and
* palmers are intended to represent the caterpillars, which
our fish very sensibly ignore alongside of the innumer-
able beautiful, delicate and gaudy ‘flies, and which under
no circumstances are found except in the fresh-water
brooks. Through all the early Spring; the stomachs
of the trout will be found filled with the shells of the
caddis, and these, if they could be obtained, would
doubtless be a killing bait. Fortunately they cannot be,
and are not to my knowledge used here at all.

In our mountain streams the fish are generally
extremely numerous, though small, and will eagerly
seize any fly presented to them, vying with one another
to be first. The following is a good assortment, and will,
in addition to those already mentioned, be sufficient for
all waters: The alder-fly, English partridge hackle,
hackles of all colors, red and black ants, the devil-fly
with a yellow body, the tail of one red and one black
whisk, black hackles and red and black, wings, dark
mackerel, red spinner, English blue jay, fern-fly, orange
dun, the camlets of various colors, grey, dun and black
midges, the coachman, the stone-fly, the May-flies,
millers for night-work, the sand-fly, the various other
duns, the turkey brown, and a large light grey fly.

As each maker employs different colors and feathers
for the same fly, these descriptions are rather indefinite ;
FLIES AND KNOTS. 963
"

but by taking a number of various shades, you can rea-
dily select the most effective. The well-known flies should
be dressed after Ronalds as far as practicable. It is to
be regretted that there is not more uniformity and pride
in, or practical acquaintance with, the subject among our
principal tackle-makers. With the English makers it
has always been an especial care that their flies should
be dressed well and with uniformity ; but here, anything
that can be palmed off on an ignorant or indulgent pub-
lic, or a barbarous country trade, is all that is desired.
It is better always to*send a pattern, with instructions to
copy it precisely, and that no originality of variation
will be permitted. Then, and then only, can you obtain
what you wish. So much for trout-flies.

To make a salmon-fly, the following additional direc-
tions, most. of which. apply equally to carefully made
trout-flies, will be found convenient. Tie on the gut as
before directed; upon reaching the bend, fasten the
spring pliers on to the thread, and do not take them off
till the fly is finished. Take two turns with the silk over
a strip of tinsel, pass the latter several times round the
hook to form the tag, fasten it with the silk and cut it
off; introduce the floss for the tip, take several turns
evenly, tie it down and cut off the end; introduce the
tail and then a piece of herl, wind the herl at the root
of the tail and fasten it; take in a new piece of tinsel
and a hackle by rubbing back all the fibres but a few at
the point; leave both pointing from the head. Take a.
small piece of mohair between your fingers, break it over
and over again into small pieces, lengthen it out and twist
it round the silk toward the left, as otherwise it will
264 FLIES AND KNOTS.

unlay in winding; wind the silk and mohair together
round the shank to the shoulder, leave a space of bare
hook sufficient for the wings. Wind in loose coils
first the tinsel and then the hackle, and fasten both at
the shoulder. Strip two wings from feathers that have
been taken from the opposite sides of the bird, place
them together, hold them firmly on the hook with the
left forefinger and thuntb, and fasten them securely.
Cut off the ends, insert a piece of herl, wind it over the
head and tie it down. Lay the end of the silk back
down the shank, and take three furns with the other
part over silk, hook and gut; pass the gut end through
the loop three times and draw the silk tight. Two turns
of silk should hold the different parts during the entire
operation, and a couple of half hitches under the wings
at the shoulders are sometimes used to fasten off. The
feathers should be mated to make neat wings, and if
they.are laid right side out they will close round the
hook; if otherwise, they will stand out. Do not fail to
varnish at the head with wood varnish, or some other
kind that will dry rapidly. The hackle may be intro-
duced at the shoulder. Where herl or floss is used for
the body, it is wound on separately from the tying silk,
which is sometimes passed in loose coils afterward. A
second hackle of a different color, or a feather wound
like a hackle, may be introduced after the first, or after
the wings and before the head is finished, and is called
the legs. The wings must be tied above the dubbing on
the hook, or they are liable to turn, especially where
floss silk is used for the body.

The following is a list of Canadian salmon flies, copied
FLIES AND KNOTS. 265

from the work on Salmon Fishing in the Provinces,
edited by Colonel Alexander, supposed to be by Dr.
Adamson, with two of my own added; the latter having
been furnished by a friend of extended experience, are
warranted excellent: -

No. 1. .Lovisz—An extremely beautiful fly, having
wings composed of the golden pheasant’s top-knot, breast
feather and tail, with sprigs from the green parrot, blue
macaw and kingfisher; the body is of fiery brown mo-
hair, with gold twist; the head of orange mohair; the
tail, a single feather from the golden pheasant’s top-knot ;
reddish-brown hackle and jay legs.

No. 2. Epwmy.—A much simpler fly and often equally
efficacious among the fins, the wings being composed of
the golden pheasant’s tail feather with a dash of yellow
macaw; the body, yellow mohair; ribs, of black silk;
head, black mohair; tail, golden pheasant’s top-knot;
hackle, yellow; and scarlet silk tip.

No. 3. Forsyru.—Wings of the yellow macaw, with a
slight dash of mallard wings at each side; yellow mohair
body, with black ribs; head, black; tail, golden phea-
sant’s top-knot; hackle, yellow, with light blue silk tip.

No. 4. Srepuens.—Wings of golden pheasant’s breast,
feather, with slight mixture of mallard; body of reddish
brick-colored silk, gold twist; head, black ostrich; tail,
golden pheasant’s top-knot; hackle, red, to match the
body; tip, blue silk. }

No. 5. Ross.—Wings of mallard and peacock’s herl ;
body, cinnamon-colored silk, gold twist; no head; tail,
green parrot; red and black hackles and black tip.

No. 6. Taz Parson.—This is a beautiful and efficient

12
266 FLIES AND KNOTS.

fly. The wings are mixed, and very similar to those of
No. 1, but have a slight mixture of wood duck in them ;
the body is of very dark claret silk, with gold twist;
head, black ostrich; tail, golden pheasant’s top-knot ;
hackle, dark claret; legs, blue, with a tip of yellow and
gold.

No. 7. Srracuan.—Mixed wings, chiefly of golden
pheasant’s tail, yellow macaw and jay’s wing; body of
crimson silk with gold twist; head, black ostrich; tail,
golden pheasant ; black hackle, with jay’s wing legs ; tip,
yellow and gold. ;

No. 8. Lanezvin.— Wings, body, tail, hackle, legs, tip
all yellow, made of the dyed feathers of the white goose ;
the head of black ostrich, and the twist of black silk.

No. 9. Wurrcner:—Mixed wings, of mallard and
hooded merganser, the latter being like the teal wing,
only more of a yellowish green, or the tail of the golden
pheasant may be used; head, black ostrich herl; black
hackle and black mohair body, with a thin rib of silver ;
tip, yellow silk ; and tail from the top-knot of the golden
pheasant.

No. 10. Grey Fry.—Mixed wings, of mallard, tur-
key, golden pheasant’s neck and top-knot, and sprigs of
blue macaw ; head of black ostrich heel; legs, carmine;
grey hackle; body of a grey mohair, with silver ribs, and
tip of silver and deep orange silk; tail, mixed grey mal-
lard and tail of the golden pheasant.

It will be observed that the foregoing are not imita-
tions of any natural insect, but merely fanciful combina-
tions of beautiful colors. The more harmonious the tints
the finer the effect. Some of them are gay flies, gandier
FLIES AND ~KNOTS, 267

than I should recommend; modest colors suit the sal-
mon as they do the ladies of our country. For the rivers
of New Brunswick more particularly, I would add, the
following, requesting the reader to bear in mind that
larger and more brilliant flies are permitted among the
rougher waters and heavier fish of the Canadas.

No. 11. Nicnorson.—Wings mallard with sprigs of
blue macaw; body, blood-red mohair, head of black
ostrich herl; hackles, one blood red and one dark blue
wound on together ; gold ribs and tip; tail, mallard and
golden pheasant neck. This is one of the best flies ever
cast on the Miramichi or Nipisiquit, and is simple and
inexpensive. :

No. 12. Caamprrtain.—Turkey wing, the lighter and
darker fibres mixed, or turkey and mallard ; head, black
ostrich herl; orange mohair body and hackle, yellow
legs, silver or gold ribs and tip and black silk twist ; tail
of golden pheasant top-knot.

No 13. Daztive.— Wings of turkey and golden phea-
sant neck feather and sprigs of blue macaw; head, black
ostrich ; hackles, black along the stem, but with reddish
ends; tip, orange silk; tail, golden pheasant top-knot ;
thin gold ribs and tag and black mohair body.

No. 14. Masor.—Wings of mallard and turkey with
sprigs of blue macaw, head, claret herl; light red
hackle, and orange legs; body, deep purple mohair; tip,
blue silk: tail, golden pheasant neck feathers ; ribs and
tag gold tinsel.

No. 15. Caprary.— Wings of turkey and golden phea-
sant tail and neck feathers and sprigs of blue macaw;
head claret herl; red hackle ; body, claret mohair ; tip,
268 FLIES AND KNOTS.

orange silk; silver tag, gold ribs, and tail of golden
pheasant top-knot.

No. 16. Carroo.—Wings of turkey and mallard with
sprigs of macaw, and a few fibres from the golden phea-
sant’s neck; head of black ostrich herl; claret legs ;
grey hackle ; body of grey cariboo hair or mohair; lower
part of tip golden yellow silk, and upper part black silk ;
tail, golden pheasant top-knot, and gold tag. This fly,
with various modifications, is extensively used by the
resident fishermen of Fredericton.

No. 17. Emmur.—No head ; wings of black and golden
pheasant neck feather with sprigs of macaw ; body, black
mohair; black hackle; gold tip and twist; a turn of
black herl taken just above the tail, which is golden
pheasant crest.

No. 18. Luzm.—Wings and tail dark grey turkey ;
body, mohair of the same dull color; yellow silk tip;
red hackle, and no head. This is almost identical with
the stone fly, and approximates in color to the natural
fly, and is generally dressed on a small hook.

There is no limit to the list of salmon flies that might
be given; artistic beauty is a great point to be gained,
but further than that nothing is positively ascertained
on the subject. I was once visiting a well known salmon
river with fifty dozen flies loaned to me by an excellent
angler who was one of the oldest Aabztwés of the stream.
Another excellent fisherman looked over my books with
an unapproving air, and after my return told me that
he was surprised I had taken any fish at all, for my flies
were totally unsuited to the river. It is, however, gene-
rally conceded that diffgrent waters require different
FLIES, AND KNOTS. 269

flies, and those in vogue in Canada are much gayer than
those of New Brunswick. In Great Britain it was once the
custom, as it still is in Wales, to use sombre colors; in
England and Ireland the gayest are now the rage; per-
haps it will be the same here, and in the end we may
find that handsome, gaudy feathers answer best.

The turkey wing is of various colors, but where no
other specific direction is given, the common mixture of
black and brown is intended. Some sportsmen pretend
to assimilate their flies to the sand-lance, others to the
shrimp; as the salmon obtain neither in fresh water,
there is little to choose between the plans.

As will be seen, therefore, from the foregoing, salmon
flies are much more complicated than trout flies, and
require more skill in,their manufacture. The wings are
ordinarily made of numerous fibres, frequently of dis-
tinct feathers, which are fastened separately upon one
another, and. usually called toppings. The hook is often
first tied securely with thick silk and then varnished,
while a small loop instead of a length of gut is used.
This is allowed to dry, and finer silk, usually the color
of the intended fly, is employed to tie the feathers.
Occasional fastenings may be made by taking a hitch
over the whole, and varnish is applied, especially at the
head and tail. After the hook is tied on, the silk is made
fast at the bend, where the tinsel, the whisks, the body
and the hackle are inserted ; the latter may, however, be
introduced after several turns have been taken with the
body, and the body may be divided into sections of
various colors, in a manner that the least practice will
render easy.
270 FLIES AND KNOTS.

It is no small matter to give a list of the requisite fly-
making materials, but the following are a few of the
most important :

Silk of various colors, wax, nippers, scissors, a bench
vice, picker, spring pliers, varnish, hooks and gut, tinsel
of gold and silver, twisted and plain; hackles of all
colors, feathers of the mallard, teal, woodcock, golden,
silver and argus pheasants, turkey, macaws, curlew,
ruffed grouse, ibis, blue-jay, black-bird, fresh water rail,
guinea fowl, common chicken, and any and all other
birds that may come in the angler’s way ; dubbings of
mohair, pig’s hair, wool, seal’s fur, rat’s, mole’s and squir-
rel’s fur; floss silk of all colors, and peacock’s and
ostrich herl. Dyed feathers had better be purchased of
the tackle makers, and should include blue, purple,
orange, yellow, brown, green, crimson and scarlet hackles,
and yellow wing feathers.

There is a Limerick hook now made with the shank
turned over so as to form a loop into which the gut is
inserted and the trouble of tying the gut is avoided.
They have come into general use among the Irish and
Scotch fishermen, and are a great aid to the man that
ties his own flies. The gut in ordinary fly fishing wears
out just above the hook, a difficulty that is entirely °
removed by this improvement, and it is by no means so
ugly or ungainly as might be supposed. This is no new
discovery, but has been practised with common Ameri-
ican hooks for a considerable period, and might be
advantageously used in many kinds of fishing, and ap-
plied to all hooks.

Hooks are numbered in the most singular manner, no
FLIES AND KNOTS. 27]

two makers agreeing, and some indulging in remarkable
eccentricities. But as Limerick. hooks are generally
used for fly-making, the numbers 2, 1, 14, 0 and ’/, will
include all that is requisite. No. 1} is my favorite for
ordinary purposes, but a few */, may be desirable in
heavy water, with an oceasional monster for foaming
rapids.

The charges for dressing trout flies in this country are
- exorbitant, whereas in England they can be purchased
of the best makers at from seventy-five cents to a dollar .
and a half per dozen; we are charged from a dollar and a
half to three dollars, and generally furnished an inferior
article. There is an abominable article of wholesale
traffic sold for fifty cents a dozen, that is beneath any
sportsman’s notice. I have imported a great many, but
it is a troublesome operation, and the best way is to bear
the imposition meekly.

The English and Irish salmon flies are, on the con-
trary, expensive; a great deal of the neck and top-knot
of the golden. pheasant and of the wings of the blue-jay
is employed, birds which cost from ten to twenty-five
dollars a piece, and which only furnish twenty to thirty
pairs of each kind of feathers. The use, theréfore, of
several long crest and neck feathers at fifty cents a pair
in the wing, and five or six from the top-knot for the
tail, besides other expensive materials and the employ-
ment of the best workmanship, will make a fly dear at
the original cost. Blacker, the great English rod and
fly maker, has been paid two guineas apiece for his
finest. The reader may console himself by remembering
that salmon were taken with the fly before the golden
D2 FLIES AND KNOTS.

pheasant was heard of as one of the indispensable ingre-
dients. A little practice will enable the angler to make
flies himself, and add to his sport the consciousness of
invention. ,

Except in that way, and except for salmon fishing, the
sportsmen of our country have no time to waste tying
flies. The regular shops charge a heavy profit over the
amount paid the workman, and if the purchaser is capa-
ble of telling a good fly, the best plan is to go direct to
the latter, explain what is wanted, and show an interest
in the proceeding. A half dozen of each of the fore-
going specimens, firmly fastened on strong, round, even
gut, will last two months’ daily salmon fishing in well-
stocked streams. An average loss of four or five a day
would be by no means surprising, although a single one
might kill a great many fine fish. Hooks are apt to be
broken at the bend by striking against a rock, from care-
lessness, or the awkward handling of too long a line. If
you find a hook broken in that way, lay it primarily to
this cause, and watch the sweep of your cast.

After the fly is made, tying it on to the leader and the
leader to the line is an important matter, and as it is
always desirable to put the right knot in the right place,
the following directions may do something toward ena-
bling one to effect that object, and after a little practice
will be found entirely intelligible. The gut lengths of
the droppers should be short, to prevent their fouling
round the leader.

No. 1 and No. 2 are both good ties to fasten the
leader to the line. No. 3 isa becket-hitch, and No. 4a
double becket-hitch. No. 5 is a single water knot.
 

 

 
274. FLIES AND KNOTS.

No. 6 is a double water knot. The latter are used for
tying lengths of gut together. But recollect that before
a knot is made in gut it must be wet, and had better be
soaked for some time in warm water. In using the
double knot, the ends need not be whipped down.
No. 7 shows how a dandy fastens his droppers to the
leader. No. 8 shows how a ae man does the same
thing.

No. 10 is a reef, or square knot: No. 11 is a granny
knot, and you had better not knot that knot as a reef
knot at sea. The former never slips, and yet never jams;
the latter always slips and always jams. No. 12 is a
bowline; the best knot of all.

No. 18 is a wall. No. 14, a wall and crown; follow
the strands round with the ends, and it is a double wall
and crown. No. 15, a Mathew Walker, is made by
unlaying the strands a sufficient distance, and carrying
one end. underneath and through its own bight, then the
next underneath through the bight of the first and its
own bight, and then the third underneath through the
bight of the first and second and then its own. No. 16
shows the first strand passed; No. 17 is the finished
knot. A diamond knot, No. 18, is made by laying the
strands back along the rope, hen passing the first end
over the second through the bight of the third, the
second over the third and through the first, and so on,
drawing all tight.’ It may be crowned like a wall.

No. 19 isa sheet bend. No. 20, a studding sail bend.
No. 21, a rolling hitch. No. 22, atimber hitch. No. 28,
a clave hitch. A whipping is put on as shown by No. 24,
by first passing the turns over one end, and then the
FLIES AND KNOTS. a7

other end under the last few turns, and drawing it close.
No. 25 is called a cat’s paw. These knots will probably
be sufficient without adding the hangman’s knot, with
its seven professional turns, and a choice among them
will often be found convenient, while a glance at the cut
will refresh an imperfect recollection.

In tying flies or hooks, it-is well to use varnish occa-
sionally, in fact wherever it can be done without injur-
ing the appearance of the colors; no fly will last well
that has not been varnished. In making the wings of
salmon flies, it is usual to put on numerous fibres, often
of different feathers, and tie them on separately. This
renders the wings more pliable, but destroys their beauty
and harmony. A number of inconsistent colors will
injure the effect of one another; the contrast between
body and wings should be decided, and the unity and
coherence of the latter should be preserved. If the tip
of the feather is used and fastened by the stem, it will
slip unless firmly secured. There is great difference in
the adhesion of the fibres of different feathers, but a lit-
the practice will determine the selection.

Black bass flies are generally made with a red body,
gold twist, and wings of ibis and white, or black and
white, or peacock’s herl and white; but a beautiful and
effective fly is made as follows: wings, two plumes of
the silver pheasant with two smaller ones of ibis over
them; body, blood-red mohair; furnace hackle; blue
floss tip ; gold tag, and ibis tail.

In salmon fishing it is customary to use but one fly,
as two sixteen-pound fish would be troublesome to
handle; but occasionally a dropper is added at the
276 FLIES AND KNOTS.

upper end of the casting line to attract their atten-
tion.

Three flies are sufficient for trout fishing, and are
desirable, although frequently failing to hook the fish in
consequence of lying on or close to the leader. This is
in a measure prevented by short, stiff gut lengths, but
when the rises are mainly at the upper flies, many will
be missed.

In this connection it may be well to mention that
coloring gut, especially for bright, transparent waters, is
an error; remember the fish from below look at it
against the sky, and will see it the plainer the more
it is colored. The less distinguishable to the angler
the more apparent it is to them. This can be proved
without difficulty, by holding against the light two
strands, one plain and the other colored. For salmon,
it should, if single, be round and strong; for trout, fine
and delicate.

 
INSECTS. QT

CHAPTER XXVIII.

INSECTS.

Ture is nothing more beautiful, wonderful and inter-
esting than insect life; there is nothing that offers a
wider field for examination or affords more gratify-
ing results. Under the head of insects are classed,
in popular language, all the minute animals; but
only those having six legs and two antenne, and which
undergo one or more changes or metamorphoses should
be included ; most of them have wings, and their name
is derived from the word insecta, divided, which is ap-
plied to the divisions or articulations of their bodies.
The outer part of their body is slightly bony, and to it
the muscles are attached.

Insects exist in myriads; whole families are still
undescribed, and many species unknown. Even in the
old countries new discoveries are made yearly, and in the
New World it can hardly be said that anything is
authenticated on the subject. Facts concerning the com-
monest are most remarkable. One class of white ants,
like our southern fellow countrymen, makes slaves of a
darker race. Many beautiful flies live only a few hours.
The eyes of the common house fly are composed of nu-
merous surfaces or lenses, and their life, habits and
instincts are a study in themselves. Being so numerous
278 INSECTS.

and so nearly allied, their classification is entirely imper-
fect, and like a similar attempt with any other part of
animal life, a failure. Almost every scientific writer has
invented a system of entomological distribution for him-
self, and their united efforts have produced endless con-
fusion ; the arrangement generally followed is that of
Latreille, the father of modern entomology.

Insects are by him divided into two great divisions:
those that live by chewing, mandibulata, and those that
live by sucking, haustellata, whence the name applied to
some of the human family. Of the former the beetles,
coleoptera, are prominent, and among the latter the
butterflies, Zepidoptera. It is to be observed that the
bees, although furnished with a sucking apparatus to
collect honey, feed with mandibles, and are in the first
class.

Latreille further divides the various groups as follows ;
and although English authors have made many changes,
the alterations are of such doubtful utility that the origi-
nal classification will be retained.

The first class is that of insects without wings, such as
the thysanura, or those having a bushy tail, which are
mandibulate. Parasites or lice, and fleas, both of which
are suctional, the last having a metamorphose, but the
first two not. All others have wings, but the second
class includes those that have a hard covering or case,
called an elytron, over their wings; the- beetles, which
have a horny wing cover and perfect metamorphose; the
dermoptera, which have a horny wing cover but an im-
perfect metamorphose; the orthoptera, or straight-winged
insects, their wings folding longitudinally, and having a
INSECTS. 279

leathery cover—all of which are mandibulate ; and the
hemiptera, which ‘have the wings half ieathian: and half
membranous, and the mouth suctorial, and in both of the
latter the metamorphose is imperfect. In the third class
the wings are naked and alike; it includes the newro-
ptera, or nerve-winged insects, in which the veins of the
wings are like a net; the hymenoptera, the wings being
membranous, and veined lengthwise—both families being
mandibulate; the lepidoptera, or scale-winged insects,
having delicate scales on the wings—this order is sucto-
rial, and the entire three orders have four wings; the
rhipiptera, which are mandibulate and have two balances
or halteres before the wings which close like a fan,
whence their name is derived, and the diptera, which have
two halteres behind the wings—in these families there
are only two wings.

The orthoptera include, as familiar examples, cock-
reaches, crickets, katydids, and grasshoppers; the newro-
ptera white ants, May-flies, caddis-flies, dragon-flies or
devil’s darning needles, and hoodlbugs ; the hymenoptera
common ants, wasps and bees; the lepidoptera butter-
flies, moths, silk-worms, and humming-birds; the hemi-
ptera plant lice, cochineals,.and locusts ; the diptera mos-
quitoes, house-flies, horse-flies, and bot-flies.

The order hemiptera is frequently divided into two,
according as the wings are of a uniform texture, homo-
ptera, or of a varied texture, heteroptera ; the lepidoptera
are divided into three classes—those that fly by day, and
generally have the antennz knobbed ; those that fly in
the twilight and have the antenne thickened, and those
that are nocturnal and have the antenne slender. The
280 INSECTS.

English writers have transposed the families grillida
and locustidw to suit the popular translation of the
Scriptures, and have introduced a separate order called
trichoptera.

As they are principally minute objects, wise men
wisely concluded the deficiency should be made up in
length of name, and but one class appears under the
weight of less than four syllables. . The families compos-
ing these orders are almost innumerable, and only those
that are allied to the subject in hand can even be men-
tioned. Amateur entomologists prefer the coleoptera for
their beauty and variety, and collections of insects are
mainly composed of brilliant, gaudy and wondrous bee-
tles, varying in size from the giant, as large as the pretty
fist of one of the reader’s little female acquaintances, to
the pigmy that is hardly perceptible to the eye. There
is the beautiful and useful lady-bird, the wonderful light-
ning-bug, the elephant beetle with trunk and tusks, the
hercules with stout heavy limbs, the palm weevil, whose
disgusting grubs are eaten as delicacies by the deluded
people of St. Domingo, and many other dangerous look-
ing fellows with long sharp snouts that are really harm-
less, and innocent looking fellows that are really danger-
ous. The fly-fisher, however, relies for his pleasure
mainly upon his imitations of the neuroptera and diptera,
and not so much upon the coleoptera.

The young of the insect tribe, when it issues from the
shell in the shape of a worm, is known as the larva,
although the larve of some butterflies are called cater-
pillars, and of certain flies maggots. When the larva
begins its metamorphose it is named a pupa or chrysalis,
INSECTS. 281
\

and the covering with which it surrounds itself a pupa-
‘case or cocoon. It then undergoes a wonderful change,
becoming the full-formed insect or imago—the ugly
worm, that a short time previous had surrounded itself
with a silken cocoon, bursting its case and flying off a
gay, attractive and resplendent butterfly. From crawl-
ing meanly over the ground or the foliage, leaving a
slimy streak behind, or horrible with a greenish smooth
body and clinging feet, or disgusting with innumerable
bristles, it soars away, its gay plumage glittering in the
sunlight as it flits from flower to flower, the envy and
admiration of the human female sex. How much is
there not in beauty !

Many insects live for years as worms, and but a few
hours in their perfect state. The ephemera, so called
from appearing in the morning and dying before night,
often do not reach half that age, although if the sexes
are separated they will sometimes attain the great age
of several weeks. They may be regarded as sacrificing
their lives for the tender passion. They cover our waters
in Summer, warmed into existence by the sun’s rays, flit-
ting in a graceful but inefficient way from place to place,
or floating calmly upon the surface, dropping back into
nonentity with the departing sunlight. They are some:
times, especially in the southern country, quite large, and
include what among fishermen are known as the May-
flies.

In some classes the change from the larva is not so
remarkable, the worm having much of the appearance,
and many of the distinctive marks of the perfect fly,
as for example the bee; in these the metamorphose is
282 INSECTS.

said to be imperfect. The eyes of insects are either
compound, composed of numerous lenses, amounting in
certain butterflies to thirty thousand, or simple, called
stemmata, the latter alone being found in the larva,
although in some'of the beetles the larvee have eyes in
the head and tail both. They are often long in matur-
ing; one species of locust, as is well known, remains
seventeen years before coming to perfection, and many
other families continug several years as larvee. Some of
the larve live in the earth, some in wood, and others
under water; some hide themselves in a cocoon ere their
metamorphose is effected, others build houses of stones
or sticks, others have no protection ; but all are wonder-
ful. One swims upon the water, another walks upon its
surface, a third crawls along at the bottom, although the
majority live upon dry land. In defence they use a
sting, simulate death, eject a poisonous liquid, or emit
an offensive smell. The eggs mature in the running or
stagnant water, in the ground, in the limbs of trees, in
the foliage and stems, or in the fruit. Grasshoppers in
the East, grubs among savages, snails among French-
men, ants among Brazilians, locusts among prophets,
and, if all reports are true, certain minute parasites
among Italians, have furnished pleasing and nutritious
food.

But of all the marvels of insect life, that which is least
consonant with nature and least credible to human
understanding, is the fact that they appear spontaneously.
Why should a few drops of rain-in a dusty road produce
animalcule never seen before? Why should a little per-
manent dirt originate two distinct parasites, according as
INSECTS. : 283

it accumulates on the head or body? Why should new
insects year after year make a perpetually changing
warfare against the farmer’s crops in gradation with the
exhaustion of the soil? Why should the Hessians bring
the Hessian fly, or vice versa, as you please? And a
great many other Whys which never have been and
never will be answered till the “ heavens shall be rolled
up as a scroll.”

Insects feed voraciously on leaves, vegetables, fruit, on
human blood—sad to relate—and fortunately on one
another. Mosquitoes, thank Heaven, have parasites that
cling to the delicate rings of their bodies, stinging the
arch-stinger, and inflicting by their venomous bites the
same agonies the sufferers inflict on others. It is to be
hoped those gentlerien will increase and multiply, and
after exterminating mosquitoes may pay their addresses
to the black gnats. Certain families, especially of the
coleoptera, emit a species of phosphorescent light in the
dark, occasionally light enough to read by. The majority
of insects have wings, but many have not, and in some
only one gender is winged. A few kinds, such as the
locusts, katydids, crickets, death-ticks, emit sounds, to
which man’s sympathies have added-either'a pleasant or
painful association, and produce these peculiar cries gen-
erally by rubbing the wings or some part of the body.
The wings of insects do not ‘exceed four, and are often
limited to two; their legs are six; some have antennz
or feelers, others long whisks from their tails.

The neuroptera, or net-winged insects, florfliegen, gauze-
flies, as they are called by the Germans, include the
_ principal pets of the fly-fisher. Their bodies are long,
284. INSECTS.

tapering and delicate ; their wings, four, almost transpa-
rent and marked with net-like veins. They keep in
continual motion for the purpose of: catching smaller
insects, on which they mainly feed, and generally deposit
their eggs in the water, where the grubs live from one to
two years on plants or other insects.

That most fearful looking, but really harmless and bene-
ficent creature, the devil’s darning-needle, or dragon-fly,
libellula, is a remarkable specimen of this family. They
are called demoiselles by the French, wasserjunfern, water-
virgins by the Germans; but, in spite of these pretty
appellations, are the tyrants of the surface of the ponds;
they seize and tear to pieces all other insects, including
butterflies and mosquitoes, and will clear a house of the
common fly. They are cruel, rapacious and insatiable,
and I do not know of their ever being used as bait for
trout.

The phryganea, or water-moth, is one of the favorites
of the fly-fisher. Its grubs surround themselves with a
case formed of wood or grass, and are used by him as
bait under the name of caddis-worms. They ‘are the
favorite food of the trout in early spring. But the
ephemeride include most of the specimens imitated by
the fisherman. The larve of these live in the water, for
one or more years, and then, swimming to the surface,
suddenly change into winged insects, delicate and beau-
tiful. They sometimes appear in’ myriads, their dead
bodies covering the water. A few make a second change
after flying about for a time, and crawl out of their skins
once more, leaving their old clothes, to all appearance
perfect, sticking to a tree or fence. On their first appear-
INSECTS. 285

ance they are said to be in the pseudimago state, and to
them the name duns is applied by the fly-fisher; when
they change to the ¢mago or perfect-fly, they are called
piscatorially spinners. There are exceptions to this uni-
formity, as with the May-flies; the green drake is the
psevdimago, and the grey drake the dmago.

The phryganide and ephemeride are easily distin-
guished; in the former the wings lie close along the
back, projecting beyond the body; the antenne or
feelers are long, and there are no whisks; in the latter
the wings stand upright from the body like a butterfly’s,
the antennz are very short, and there are two, or occa-
sionally three, long delicate whisks.

The phryganide attach their eggs to the foliage over-
hanging the water, whence upon hatching the larve fall,
and immediately proceed to construct, of twigs or gravel,
miniature houses like a snail’s shell, where they reside in
peace and safety. These cases are lined with silk, spun
from the insect’s mouth, and are so light as not seriously
to impede its swimming and rambling in search of food,
and being open at both ends, allow him a view of the
outside world. The larve live mainly on aquatic plants,
and when the proper time arrives, they close the ends of
their houses with a species of grating, and commence the
dormant state of the pupa. In this they remain a few
days, and then emerging from their case, they ascend to
the surface, burst their skin, and fly away in their perfect
state of beauty.

The ephemeride deposit their eggs in the water, where
they soon hatch, and where the grub, which lives usually
on clay or vegetabl: matter, resides, occasionally for
286 INSECTS.

several years, hiding under stones or in holes in the mud.
It then becomes a pupa, and after accomplishing its time,
rises to the surface, throws off its skin, and flies away,
bearing the name of dun; it shortly alights on a tree or
fence, and sheds its entire skin, withdrawing even its
delicate wings and minute whisks from their: previous
covering. Its colors in the second stage are usually more
brilliant, and under the name.spinner it enjoys the plea-
sures of life, perpetuates its species and dies in a few
hours. While laying its eggs, it will be noticed either
resting on the water or floating up and down over it.
Certain species can swim well under water, and I believe
descend to the bottom to deposit their eggs. I have had
numbers alight on my pants when I was wading a rapid
stream, run down my legs to the bottom, crawl over the
stones, and with a zig-zag motion swim against the cur-
rent to the surface. Rocks are frequently seen darkened
with flies, that on any sudden approach drop into the
water and disappear.

The ephemeride include the blue dun, which becomes
the red spinner in its final state; the marsh brown, which
changes to the great red spinner; the turkey brown, that
is transformed into the little dark spinner ; the iron blue
dun, that becomes the jenny spinner; the green and
grey drakes, the July and August duns, and many others.
The phryganide comprise the sand and cinnamon flies
and the grannom or green-tail, besides many undescribed.
Of the diptera, which are distinguished by having but
two wings, we have the cowdung-fly, the golden dun
midge, and the black gnat; of the beetles, the peacock
and fern flies and marlow buzz; of the hymenoptera, the
INSECTS. 287

red ant and orange-fly; and occasionally crickets and
grasshoppers are imitated.

These are a few, and but a few, of the beautiful insects
that sport around or upon our lovely lakes and streams;
the advancing heat of Spring warms them into life; they
burst forth, enchanting man with their-beauty, and gaily
pass a few days or hours, surrounded by innumerable
dangers, which they seem never to heed. One kind suc-
ceeds another as the summer advances, usually the more
gaudy during the greatest heat, till they crowd the
ponds, the air, the bushes with indescribable brilliancy.
I have seen, toward evening, yellow sallies appear in
myriads, their dead bodies literally covering the water ;
and in the St. Lawrence rivers, dead eel-flies lie in such
masses as to give the effect of sea-weed.

It is very desirable that fishermen should, for their
own sakes as well as the sake of science, pay more atten-
tion to the habits and peculiarities of these insects. The
study of nature in its minute productions is wonderful;
the observations of individuals combined is of great
value, and adds immensely to the general store of know-
ledge ; something more would be effected than the mere
pleasure of taking a large mess, and the reproach of
idleness removed from our enjoyments. ‘To be sure, the
men of science, by the use of ridiculous foreign names
and the confounding of a confused and worthless system,
have done all they can to discourage such an undertaking
and repel such aid; but every one can note the pecu-
liarities that are Heretofore mentioned, can even readily
preserve a specimen and mark the times and manner of
their appearance and the length of their duration, and
288 INSECTS.

though he may fail to obtain the scientific name, can
determine the species and ascertain the habits of a few
members of the most wonderful, intricate, and interest-
ing portion of the creation.

 
©AMP LIFE. 289

CHAPTER XXIX.

CAMP LIFE.

One of the most important matters that demand the
sportsman’s attention, is the equipment he should take
with him to make his life in the woods pleasant. He will
have-many annoyances and even hardships to encounter,
and should be as well prepared to meet them as circum-
stances will permit. The following directions are founded
upon the idea he intends to retire to the wilderness, far
from the abode of man, where he will have to trust for
his support to his own exertions, and although many of
them may seem superfluous, and to the robust may savor
of effeminacy, to those who desire real comfort they will
prove acceptable.

The great pest of the wild woods is—not tigers nor
panthers, not bears nor wolves, not even snakes—but
something far smaller but infinitely more terrible—rux
Buack Fry! If it were possible for the uninitiated to
conceive or the pen to describe the horrors conveyed in
these words, I should endeavor to record them. Think -
of the rack, the boot, the thumb-screw, the wheel; think
of being rent asunder by wild horses, or torn in bits with
hot pincers; think of the tortures of the inquisition, or
the cruel fanaticism of India, and smile; they do not
compare with the black fly. When mosquitoes hover

13
230 CAMP LIFE.

round you day and night, when they fill the air you
breathe and deafen your ears with their hum, when your
hands, face and body are covered with itching lumps, it
is hard to bear. But mosquitoes are comparatively quiet
in the sun-light, and are partially affected by smoke;
they can be influenced by a smudge, can be frightened
off and sometimes killed ; they do not compare-with the
sand-fly.

‘The latter, almost invisible to the naked eye, comes in
absolute myriads ; it settles upon every inch of exposed
flesh ; it creeps into every crevice; it cannot be frightened
away, but must be brushed off; its worst attacks are at
night, when tired nature is pining for a little rest; its
bite does not itch, but burns like fire, till face, hands and
neck feel as though they had been scalded. But the
sand-fly, bad as he is, can be persuaded out of your tent
by a fire; he does not abound except in sandy localities ;
his bite des not draw blood, nor raise a lump, and is not
permanent; he does not compare with the black fly.

The latter comes without a warning note ; he bites till
the blood runs in a stream, and inflicts the sharps pain;
he clings fast till he is absolutely rubbed off, and crawls
up your sleeve or pants or down your neck; he loves
not the fire, nor fears the smoke; he cannot be enticed
nor driven away. The mosquito comes numerous as the

‘rain-drops in a shower; the sand-fly as the motes in sun-
light ; but the black fly like the sand of the desert when
the simoom is raging. Resignation can endure the first,
stoicism the second, but nothing the last.

All three of these pests are found abundantly in the
woods, and without being prepared for them, instead of
CAMP LIFE. 991

pleasure, the sportsman’s trip would be one long torture.
People have been known to be completely disfigured by
their bites, and I have had my neck as thoroughly gir-
dled as though it had been done with a hot iron. Their
bite inflames the blood, and if accompanied with the free
use of ardent spirits, may produce unpleasant conse-
quences. Let no man through foolhardiness brave their
attacks, thinking he can rough it and not give way
betore such pitiful insects; as brave and strong men as
ever lived have had their pleasure destroyed by these
curses of our country, and he will repent his rashness, if
not in sack-cloth and ashes, in blood and misery. I
have seen a hard-working man so worn out by their
attacks as to fall fast asleep standing up leaning against
a rock in a hot July sun, that by its excessive warmth
had for the moment driven the torments away. He wore
a veil, but not being properly arranged, the flies could
climb up its folds, and it was little protection.

One may well ask how is it possible to defend oneself
from such irrepressible villains ; nor can it be done per-
fectly ; with the best precautions there will be enough
to try nerve and temper. Gauntlets of leather drawn
above the wrists over the coat sleeve will, though rather
warm, effectually protect the hand, and when oppressive,
may be cooled by being dipped in water. A veil is the
best thing for the face; a piece of elastic run round the
‘top will enable you to slip it over your straw hat and
fasten it above the brim, which will keep it out from the
face; a spring wire or whalebone hoop sewed in a few
inches below, will keep it off your nose, and another
-piece of elastic round the bottom will hold it tight around
292 CAMP LIFE.

your cravat, so that the flies cannot make their way
beneath it; or the latter may be omitted to enable you
to wipe your face and rub off those stragglers that will
find their.way in, notwithstanding your precautions.
There is a light substance called tissue, that makes a
cool but delicate veil, and is preferable to the ordinary
barege, and for mosquitoes and black flies, bobinet is
still lighter, but sand-flies might pass the meshes.

Various ointments have been tried with partial suc-
cess ;;among them, tar ointment has lately become con-
spicuous, as also oil with a few drops of creosote, but
my favorite has always been a mixture of the oil of pen-
nyroyal with an equal amount of almond or sweet oil;
this is both cleanly and effectual, and need only be
renewed once a day. But remember it must be the
oil and not the essence of pennyroyal, which latter is
utterly worthless. Care must be taken with it, as with
the others, not to let them run into the eyes, as they will
produce unpleasant smarting. This composition is death
on black flies, and quite successful against mosquitoes ;
but it is well, also, to be provided with tar ointment,
which will not spill if the bottle is broken.

For clothes, the best suit is of strong duck, heavy
enough to resist an able-bodied mosquito, but as loose as
«possible, so that warm flannels, of which every descrip-
tion should be taken in abundance, can be worn beneath.
Flannel coats, shirts and drawers or pantaloons can be
crowded into a small space, and are excellent for keep-
ing out cold, and are not rendered unpleasant by moist-
ure. It must be borne in mind that the Summers in
Canada are occasionally absolutely cold, and for weeks
CAMP LIFE. 293

in July, I have shivered in every coat and flannel I had
with me.

Moccasins are the things for the canoe, but if you try
to clamber over rocks or wade streams in them, your
feet will be bruised and cut severely. It is advisable to
wear stout ankle gaiters that lace up, with heavy iron-
nailed slippers that may be fastened with a strap and
buckle over them, after you have left the canoe, and by
means of which you can cling to the rocks without slip-
ping so frequently as you otherwise would. You will
wear a straw hat, of course, and where mosquitoes are
not innumerable, your flannel underclothes will make a
delightful boating suit. Never use anything but woollen
socks for any sort of hard walking, and by having your
net handle shod with iron, and carrying it in one hand,
you will make your way among the slippery rocks with
comparative safety.

The bedding should consist of plenty of blankets, and
one or two of them coated with India rubber and ren-
dered waterproof, to keep off the moisture that will
always rise from the ground at night, to wrap the rest of
your clothes in, and to protect them and yourself from
rain and wet. A stout leather strap and buckle is neces-
sary for the latter purpose. The best tent is a circular
one without any ridge-pole, but supported by a rope run
through a pulley attached to three long poles cut in the
woods, and placed in the shape of a tripod above. The
pins are driven into the cloth itself, and hold it so close
to the ground that no insects can penetrate beneath,
while a flap effectually closes the door. There is a hole
for ventilation at the top, which, in a rain, may be closed
994 CAMP LIFE.

with a canvas cap. <A stout post may be set up in the
centre with a few nails on which to hang clothes. This
tent should only be used at a permanent camp; and for-
travelling, the ordinary tent with a ridge-pole, as more
accurately described hereafter, is preferable ; a piece of

oiled cloth laid over sticks planted slanting in the ground,

will keep off the rain and dew.

A round tent of twenty-four feet in circumference will
not accommodate more than two men luxuriously, where-
as one of double that circumference will hold five times
the number. A large tent is a great comfort and not.
much trouble. A separate tent should of course be
taken for your men, and another simple one for a make-
shift and a dining-room. To arrange the latter is your
first care on arriving at your permanent camping-ground,
the table is of bark, either birch or spruce, nailed fast to
posts, and shielded by some protection from the rain ;
the seats are either a large log or the barrels you have
brought with you to carry stores and fish, or else stools
ingeniously chipped from the trunks of trees with the
branches for legs. A dressing-stand is then arranged,
with a wash-basin made of birch bark ; the fire-place is
rigged up with a ridge-pole supported on two notched
sticks, and with a hooked withe to support the kettle,
and your sylvan home is furnished.

To support and gratify the inner man, it is well to
have with you all conceivable little delicacies, such as
nutmegs, allspice, preserved fruits, meats and vegetables,
sweet oil, lemons and raisins, sardines, chocolate, citric
acid and ginger ; but the necessaries are clear salt pork,
flour, rice, oat-meal and Indian-meal, coffee, tea, brown
CAMP LIFE. 298

and white sugar, red and black pepper, fine and coarse
salt, butter, sauces, preserved and fresh eggs, solidified
milk, ales and ardents according to consumption, pota-
toes, smoked beef, pickles, piccalilly, matches, the
essence of coffee, bacon, ham, dried beans and _ peas,
hominy, cigars, onions, bread, crackers, molasses, tobacco,
desiccated meats and soups. Many of these articles may
be advantageously stowed in the barrels intended for
packing fish, but the butter should be put up in air-tight
jars in small quantities, and may in hot weather be
buried under water in the sand. The oil tried out of the
pork is usually used for frying ; but if you have sufficient
butter the latter is infinitely preferable.

For cooking you will need an iron pot and boiling ket-
tle, tin kettles fitting inside of one another, a frying-pan
with a handle like the kettle, a coffee-pot, some knives

-and tin plates, cups, spoons, forks and deep dishes, and
above all an oyster broiler. The latter hag thin wires,
and, having two surfaces, can be turned more readily

. than a gridiron. It should be used extensively: fish and
game split open and broiled, well basted with butter, are
undeniable, and will be found a pleasant change from the
eternal fry. Large fish may be boiled and served up
with a little of the liquor strengthened with a teaspoon-
ful of Worcestershire sauce. The greatest difficulty
will be found with the bread; the latter may be kept a
couple of weeks, and when excessively dry, by steaming
in the pot will be rendered eatable, but not good. Ship
biscuit must be the main reliance for a long tramp.
Before taking your departure, if you could obtain a few
lessons in cooking from some elderly lady friend whose
296 CAMP LIFE.

youth has not been so entirely devoted to dress as to pre-
vent her knowing something of her household duties, and
will carry with you a few simple recipes, you will not
regret it. h

As no one can be certain of perfect health or freedom
from accident, it is well to be provided with plenty of
sticking and court plaster, cholera medicine and Rochelle
salts; but generally the fine exercise and open air are a
brave preventive against sickness. Do not forget brown
soap to wash the dishes, candles for light in the evening,
and cream of tartar and soda to make the flour rise.

_ The most necessary tools are an axe, a hatchet, one of
Aiken’s patent diminutive awl tool-chests, with which to
mend broken rods, needles and thread to mend torn
clothes, some rosin to mend the canoes, and a supply of
various sizes of nails for numerous purposes, while a file
and sharpening stone will be found useful additions. An’
india-rubber water-proof bag is admirable as a receptacle
for clothes or blankets, which should be heavy, and a
tin wash-basin and an air-pillow will be great additional
comforts. Fresh eggs may be conveniently stowed in
the barrels of coarse salt used for curing fish.

Of the foregoing there are none you can comfortably
omit, and besides them there are plenty you would do
well to have; but the judgment and taste of each indi-
vidual will suggest the additions.

As one of the first objects will be to preserve the fish
you catch, a preparation of eight ounces of sugar, two
ounces of salt, half an ounce of brown pepper, well
rubbed into fish from which the back bone has been re-
moved, and which are allowed to dry in the sun, will
CAMP LIFE, 297
preserve them over a month. They should be packed in
barrels with layers of bark between, and will prove more
edible than when simply smoked ; by smoking they may
be kept for years, and the fisherman long have the proud
pleasure of offering to friend at breakfast a little of the
salmon he killed and smoked himself the previous Sum-
mer in Canada.

In warm weather, fish merely salted cannot be kept
long, and pickling in brine utterly destroys their flavor ;
but if the latter method must be adopted, a pickle of two
parts salt and one part common brown sugar will keep
them forever. Before cooking, however, they should be
well soaked. Pickling in vinegar with a few cloves is
probably the best mode where it is possible.

The gum for mending the canoes—and it is surprising
how large a hole it will fill—is made of one part rosin
to three parts balsam gum, fused together. If the aper-
ture is very extensive, a piece of linen saturated with
melted gum should be applied. In New Brunswick and
Maine it is usual to mix rosin and grease, which answers
every purpose.

To smoke fish, it is necessary to salt them in a tub,
where they can form a brine, and leave them thus for
two days, and then hang them in a smoke-house, not
too near the fire, for as many weeks, when they are to be
packed in layers, separate. Fish are soused by being
partially boiled, and having vinegar boiled in copper
kettles mixed with allspice and poured over them. Iron
turns the vinegar black, and hence this mode cannot be
pursued in the woods. Small fish may be headed,
cleaned and packed in a jar, which is then filled up with

13*
298 CAMP LIFE.

vinegar and allspice and baked all night. Next day
fresh vinegar is added to make up for the evaporation,
and lard is run in to exclude the air. They keep well
and taste excellent.

An air-tight can is now made, with a cover that fits
into a trough which can be filled with melted rosin.
This may be used over and over again, and is peculiarly
adapted to the woods. It must be hermetically sealed
while the contents are boiling, but without sealing might
be advantageously used to.protect sugar and such things
from the wet. The same cover is applied to brown ear-
then jars, which are well suited for carrying butter.

Literature will be found a great resource in the woods,
and although Harper’s last Monthly may be permissible
on account of the shortness of its stories, nothing should
be taken of too interesting a character, lest it divert
attention from the main object in view. This work will
be found extremely safe.

In giving the foregoing directions _ is assumed that
the reader intends to travel with canoes, and does not
expect to make any extensive portages, or, as they are
called in American, “carries;” for if the men are ex-
pected to back the traps for any considerable distance,
the only admissible articles are fishing-tackle, penny-royal,
an axe, the tents, pork, ship biscuit, tea, sugar, pepper,
salt, tea-kettle, matches and a frying-pan. The slightest
weight becomes a mountain on such occasions, aind it will
require stout muscles to carry enough for their own sus-
tenance. In salmon-fishing this is rarely necessary,
unless a man would be an explorer, and the adventurous
are always sufferers. .
CAMP LIFE, 299

As it is possible none of my reader’s female acquaint-
ance have ever soiled their rosy fingers—Heaven save
the mark!—with domestic cookery, an outline of the
theory of that science may be advantageous. There are
certain wel] known rules that have no exceptions, unless
in the hands of a genius, and which apply to classes and
divisions of edibles. For instance, a little salt must always
be thrown into the water before anything is boiled in it.
Thus, again, with the great class of fried cakes: milk
thickened with flour, and an egg or two, and a pinch of
salt, makes griddle: add squash, boiled and mashed, and
you have squash cakes; employ boiled and mashed rice
in place of squash, and there is produced the delicate
rice cake; introduce Indian-meal, which has been first
scalded, and you have Indian cakes. This class of cakes
is made by pouring the preparation, in large tablespoon-
fuls at a time, on a greased griddle or frying-pan. In
broiling, frying, roasting, baking, or stewing, salt and
pepper are first. rubbed on the article to be cooked; in
broiling, baking, or roasting, it is basted with butter or
grease, and in frying the butter is first put in the pan
and heated. Potatoes boiled, and cut thin when cold,
are delicious fried. In stewing, a little water is poured
over the meat, and the cooking is done with a cover on.

Frying is with butter or grease alone; stewing with
grease and a little water ; and boiling with water alone.
You determine when things are done by the color and
trying how they resist a fork. An excellent chowder is
made by putting pork, fish, cracker, meat, clams, and
anything else that is handy, with vegetables, sufficient
seasoning, and a little water, and stewing it well. Stew-
300 CAMP LIFE.

ing can hardly be carried to excess, as from the closeness _
of the vessel the nutritious particles cannot escape.

The best omelette the tyro can make, and excellent it
will be found, is by frying eggs, which are first beaten
up and sacred, till they are not quite’ firm. They
must be stirred all the while to keep them from burning,
and if they are done hard are ruined.

A white sauce is made of flour and butter well mixed
together, stirred into hot water and allowed to boil for
fifteen minutes; a hard boiled egg may be chopped up
and added if desired. This is the appropriate sauce for
salmon. <A brown gravy is made from the drippings of
the meat, and some burnt sugar or browned crumbs add-
ed and warmed up.

The following is an accurate recipe for griddle cakes:
one pint of boiled rice, three tablespoonfuls of flour, two
tablespoonfuls of milk and two eggs. While for fried
cakes it will be observed that flour, milk and eggs are
used, for ordinary cakes flour, butter and eggs are neces-
sary, with sugar added for sweetening. Thus, a good
cake is made of five cups of flour, three cups of sugar,
two cups of butter and four eggs. This cake must be
‘baked slowly, which could be done in a piece of birch
bark inclosed in heated stones, allowing room for it to
rise.

The simplest and best way to boil a salmon is to slash
him on the sides with vertical cuts to the bone, having

‘previously drawn; opened and cleaned him, to wash him
well in the nearest spring, put him into boiling water
sufficiently salt to bear an egg, and cook him seven or
eight minutes to every pound of weight, and serve him
CAMP LIFE. 301

with some of the water he was cooked in for sauce. The
latter may be thickened with fionr and butter. He
should, like all other fish, be cooked fresh.

Broiled fish, or, if they are large, slices of fish, cook
better wrapped in a piece of paper oiled; and the one-
half of a salmon spread out, tacked on a board and roast-
ed by a hot fire is excellent; and in cooking small fish
suspended by a twig near the fire, Frank Forester recom-
mends that a small stick with a piece of pork threaded
on it, should be inserted to keep the belly open, and a
biscuit placed below to catch the drippings. A hot fire
will cook a fish thus in ten minutes.

To bake a fish he is wrapped in oiled paper or birch
bark, and placed in an oven built of stones laid in a hol-
low, and from which the fire has just been removed,
other heated stones are placed above him, and the fire is
raked back over the whole.

It will be hardly necessary to remark, in connection
with these directions, that fish must be cleaned and have
the gills removed and be well washed and scaled before
they can be cooked ; that when the word butter is used,
and my reader have no butter, he must use such grease
or oil as he may have; that in all cases he can add such
sauces and spices to his condiments as he may relish and
possess. Among all the variety of prepared sauces, an-
chovy for salmon and Worcestershire for meats are the
best, but lemon. alone gives an excellent flavor.

To bread anything, whether it be fried oysters or fried
eels, dip them in the yolk of egg beaten up, and then in
cracker pounded fine, or they may first be dipped in flour
and afterward in egg and cracker.
302 CAMP LIFE.

Tea is made by pouring a little hot water on the leaves
and allowing it to draw by the fire for ten minutes and
then filling up with hot water. Coffee, by putting the
coffee, mixed with the yolk of an egg, into boiling water
and allowing it to boil once—no more, on-your life. If
you do not wish to use an egg, put in a teaspoonful of
cold water immediately on taking it from the fire. This
is done to clear it. Chocolate is made by melting a cake
broken into small pieces in warm water, adding a cup of
milk after it is perfectly smooth, and boiling for twenty
minutes. An excellent tea is made of yellow birch bark.

Bread, especially if it is a little stale, is much improved
by toasting, which should be done by approaching it close
to the fire, even throwing it on the coals and burning the
outside almost black. If buttered and covered with
brown sugar and eaten hot it makes an excellent dessert.

If salt pork is to be broiled, it should be cut thin, and
may be soaked well in water, dipped in Indian-meal, so
as to bread it, and then broiled or fried brown. It can
be used in soup by being boiled in two waters.

Smoked beef is good if stewed a few minutes with a
lump of butter mixed with flour and enough milk to
cover the whole, which may be seasoned with pepper.
Fried fish that has become cold can be revived in the
same way ; the flour may be omitted and some salt must
be added.

An onion may be boiled in er sauce, and removed
before serving, or pepper may be added ; celery chopped
and cooked in a stew or sauce adds a pani liarly pleasant
flavor. Tough meat of all kinds should be stewed, and
except salt pork, meat should be rarely fried. The fore-
CAMP LIFE. 303

going are soon acquired by practice, and experience will
suggest many valuable alterations; but they are all the
directions necessary to make camp life not merely com-
fortable, but by the aid of a good appetite extremely
pleasant. Cookery is no mean science, and a knowledge
of it will prove interesting and advantageous not only
in the wilderness, but so long as Irish cooks shall rule our
kitchens and ruin our digestions, in the realms of civil-
ization. .

To unite economy in space and weight with the utmost
amount of accommodation, the following sized tents will
be found to answer for two fisherman and five guides or

even four fishermen.

The tent of the gentlemen should be four cloths deep,
each cloth of twenty-six inches, and cut twenty feet long,
so that there should be ten feet on each side of the ridge-
pole; the wall takes about three feet, at the upper edge
of which a small piece is tabled in where the bolt-rope
passes, to shed the rain. There is an extra strip of can-
vas along the ridge, with two small grummets in each
end, inside the tent, to receive the poles; but there is no
bolt-rope except along the wall, and there must be no
cross seams, as they are sure to leak. A shoulder is left
on the poles, which are thrust into the grummets and a
‘spreader is forced up between them and sustained as a
ridge-pole by a notch cut in each. There are three tent
ropes on each side, with a stout line and toggle, or but-
ton where they join the tent, to trice up the walls in
warm weather; the doors, which are at both ends, lap
well over, and are secured by a strong galvanized hook
and eye, and are closed with strings. Along the bottom
804 CAMP LIFE.

of the wall are rings to peg it down, and the width is
the same as the depth. This tent sets up eight feet high,
and is quickly pitched if the poles are retained, which
can be readily done, as they are convenient in the bottom
of the canoe to keep other baggage from the wet. The
size may be diminished to eight feet square, but will be
found rather cramped, especially in wet weather, when the
fisherman is more or less compelled to stay indoors, and
will not permit of what is often desirable, accommodat-
ing a visitor.

For the men, a simple strip of canvas eight feet square,
with sloping sides, is all that is required. In fact, in cold
weather an open tent with a fire in front is preferable to
all others, and can be kept as warm as an oven. A Sib-
ley tent has many advantages, but must be large, and is
troublesome to transport. In cold weather, logs should
be cut down and laid up with mud like a hut, or boards
driven into the ground close together to form the foun-
dation, and the tent set over them. It will be warmer
and more roomy.

Where there is naught to be shot, and as little to be
caught, no man has any business in the woods; but as
bad marksmanship or scarcity of game may cause the
first, or a rise of water the second, it is well to know
that a pound, of biscuit and a pound of pork per day is
all that a man requires for his support. A fair allowance.
however would be, considering it merely as an addition -
to the proceeds of the gun and rod, a pound of biscuit
or bread, and half a pound of pork. Where flour is
taken the amount of bread may be reduced; but as the
staff of life occasionally becomes wet and moldy, it is
CAMP LIFE, 305

better to be well supplied. Half a pound of solidified
milk will last one man ten days, a pound of tea thirty,
and half a pound of tobacco one week. Eight pounds
of brown sugar, the same of butter, a bushel of potatoes,
and two gallons of molasses are sufficient for two anglers
and five men one week. It is not customary to give
men milk, sugar or coffee; they are carried only for the
gentlemen, and the above calculations are made on that
footing. These computations may be relied on, and will
be found extremely useful ; although the luxuries of camp
life may fail, the nenesserinn must not be exhausted.
There is no fun in having to send a couple of your best
men fifty miles for provisions, when salmon are rising or
along journey is to be made. Time devoted to pleasure
is precious ; a day wasted is indeed a loss.

And now, good reader, farewell. In looking over this
book, I perceive how far short I have fallen of my own
expectations, and feel how greatly I must have disap-
pointed yours. Much has been badly said, much omit-
ted, and no doubt much unintentionally misstated.
Opinions differ, and experience leads to contrary results.
There are game fish, and modes of taking them, with
which doubtless I am unacquainted, and yet I hope you
will find something here that has not been written before.
My aim has been to induce sportsmen to study the habits
and proper designation of the different varieties of game
they pursue, to apply the appropriate names and distin-
guish the various species. My hope is to elevate their
3896 CAMP LIFE.

purpose above the mere indulgence of that peculiar
innate pleasure experienced in the chase, and at the same
time, if possible, to press upon the attention of natural-
ists the vast assistance they might obtain from their
humbler brethren by reducing their language to the
standard of ordinary comprehension ; and above all, to
insist, by every consideration of humanity, upon the
absolute necessity of preventing the cruel, wanton, and
untimely destruction of the beautiful inhabitants of our
woods and waters. These have been my objects; it is
for you to judge how far I have succeeded. But, reader,
let me warn you: neither praise nor dispraise overmucli.
In either case I shall write another book, to justify the
former or disprove the latter.

 
APPENDIX.

CAP. LXITI.
AN AOT RESPECTING FISHERIES AND FISHING.

Protection to Fisheries.

1. The Governor in Council may grant special fishing leases and
licenses on lands belonging to the Crown, for any term not exceeding
nine years, and may make all and every such regulation or regu-
lations as may be found necessary or expedient for the better man-
agement and regulation of the Fisheries of the Province.—22 V. c.
86, 5. 4.

2. The Governor may, as occasion shall require, appoint two
Superintendents of Fisheries, one for Upper and one for Lower
Canada. Four Overseers may be appointed by the Commissioners
of Crown Lands, in such places, and in such divisions of territory, as
may be considered necessary.—I 2d. 8. 5. °

5. The Governor in Council may cause to be set apart any river
or other water for the natural or artificial propagation of salmon,
trout or other fish.—Jdid. s. 8.

. 6. The Governor in Council may grant permission to fish in the
rivers within the King’s Posts.—Jbzd. s. 9.

7. Whoever threws overboard ballast in any river, harbor or
roadstead, where fishing is carried on, or the remains of offal of fish,
in any such river, or within three miles of the coast of the mainland,
.or of any island, or on any fishing-bank, shall incur a fine not exceed-
ing eighty dollars, and the master or owner of such vessel or boat,
from which such ballast or offal of fish shall have been thrown, shall
be held liable for every such offence: Provided always that it shall
be lawful for any person to bury such offal of fish on the mainland
or any island at a distance of not less than an acre from the beach

thereof.—JZdid, s. 11.
* OT
3808 APPENDIX.

8. No one shall anchor near the shore in such a manner as to
impede the throwing and hauling of seines, or the setting of standing
nets.—Lbid. s. 12.

9. No one shall set standing nets in such a manner as to impede
the throwing or the hauling of seines.—J did. s. 18.

10. No one shall set seines or nets in such a manner as to impede
the navigation or anchorage in any bay, harbor or roadstead, or other
place required for navigation —J bid. s. 14.

20. No one shall fish for, catch or kill salmon in any way what-
ever, between the first day of August and the first day of March in
any year; except only ‘that it shall be lawful to fish for salmon with
a tod and line, in the manner known as fly-surface-fishing, from the
first of March to the first of September in any year, in Upper or
Lower Canada.—Jbid. 8. 24.

21. No one shall use any net, or take salmon in any way what-
ever, at any salmon-leap, or where any artificial salmon pass shall
have been constructed, nor in any pools or ponds where salmon are
wont to spawn.—J. bid. 8. 25.

22. Whoever obstructs the main channel or course of any river,
either by placing therein nets or fishing apparatus of any kind, or
any obstacles of any kind whatever, for the purpose of taking salmon
or any other species of fish, shall thereby incur for each offence a
fine not exceeding twenty dollars, and the forfeiture of his fishing
apparatus; and in no case shall the said channel or course so left
open be less than one-third of the whole breadth of such-river.—
Ibid. s. 26.

23. The owner of any dam or slide where fish may ascend, shall,
for the purpose of affording a passage to the fish, attach and main-
tain to each dam or slide, a fishway of such form and dimensions as
shall be determined by the Superintendent of Fisheries, under a
penalty of four dollars for each day on which he shall fail so to do
after two months’ notice by the superintendent.—Jbéd. s. 27.

24, Any salmon taken in contravention of the twentieth section
of this act, shall subject all parties concerned in the breach of the
said section, whether the actual transgressors or accessories, to a
penalty of not more than forty dollars, nor less than twenty dollars,
together with the forfeiture of the fish, canoe, boat or other vessel
in which the fish-may have been placed, or to’ imprisonment for a
period of not more than six months, nor r less than three months.—
Lbid. 3, 28.

* 95. The meshes of any ae used for the oe of salmon shall not
be less than five inches in extension, knot to knot, under penalty
and on pain of forfeiture of the nets.—Jbid. s, 29.

26. No one shall fish with any net or seine whatever, of a less
sized mesh than one and a half inches on the square, in any lake,
river or bay, or in any of the waters of Upper Oanada.—Jbid. s. 80.

27. No one shall fish for, catch or kill any kind of trout in any
APPENDIX, 309

way whatever, between the twentieth of October and the first of
February in any year, in Lower Canada.—Jdid. s, 31.

28. No one shall kill any kind of speckled trout, in any way what-
ever, between the twentieth of October and the first of April in any
year; nor shall any speckled trout be killed at any time by means
of nets or seines in any inland lake, river or stream in Upper
Canada.—Jbid. s. 82.

29. No one shall catch trout, by means of nets or seines, in any
lake ur river, or at the outlet or inlet of any lake, or in any river
except the river St. Lawrence, in Lower Oanada.—Tbdid. 8. 83.

30. Except in the Lakes Huron and Superior, no one shall catch
salmon-trout between the fifteenth day of November and the first
day of February.—Jbid. s. 34.

81. Except as aforesaid, no one shall catch maskinonge, pickerel
or black bass, between the fifteenth of March and the fifteenth day
of May.—Tdid. s, 35. ,

32. No one shall buy, sell-or have in possession any salmon, sal-
mon-trout, nor any kind of trout, bass nor maskinonge, taken in
contravention of this act; and any fish so taken may be declared
forfeited by any magistrate whomsoever, and any person so found in
possession of any of the aforementioned fish, or of any part or por-
tion thereof, shall be held to have obtained the same in violation of
the provisions of this act, except only upon legal proof to the con-
trary, which proof shall devolve wholly upon the person accused.—
Ibid. s. 36.

83. No one shall construct any fish pound in any river.—
Ibid. s. 37.

84. The Superintendent of Fisheries may grant written permission
to any person or persons who may be desirous of obtaining spawn
for bond jide artificial or scientific purposes, to fish for that purpose,
during the close season; and any person who willfully injures or
destroys any place set apart for the artificial propagation of fish,
shall incur a fine of not less than twenty dollars nor more than forty
dollars.—J bid. s. 88.

86. No one shall throw lime, or any chemical substance or drug,
into any water frequented by any one of the kind of fish mentioned
in this act, and any person found guilty of having thrown lime or any
other chemical substance or drug in such waters, shall be subjected to
a penalty of not less than twenty dollars and not more than forty
dollars for each offence.—Ibid. s. 40.

White-jish in the Rivers Niagara, Detroit and St. Clair.

417. Any person who uses or employs, or causes to be used or
ginplovells aay seine or other nets of a greater length than fifty
fathoms, for the taking of white-fish in any of the rivers Detroit,
Saint Clair, or Niagara, within Upper Oanada, shall, for every such
»

310 APPENDIX.

offence, forfeit the sum of five hundred dollars.—8 W. 4, ¢. 29, s. 1.
22 V. c. 86, s. 80. :

48, Any person found fishing for white-fish in either of the said
rivers within Upper Canada, with seines, gill-nets or other nets, on
the first day of the week, called Sunday, shall forfeit for every such
offence the sum of two hundred dollars.—3. W. 4, c. 29, s. 2.

White-jish in Upper Canada.

49. Any person who attempts to divert the natural progress or
running of the white-fish within Upper Canada, by shingling or other

. device, shall forfeit for every such offence the sum of five hundred

dollars, or be imprisoned, not exceeding three months, at the discre-
tion of the court.—3 W. 4, c. 29, s. 3.

50. All forfeitures incurred under the three last preceding sections
of this act may be recovered by action of debt, with costs of suit,
before any court having competent jurisdiction ; one moiety thereof
to the person who sues for the same, and the other moiety to be paid
into the hands of the Receiver General.—3 W. 4, c. 29, s. 5.

CROWN LANDS DEPARTMENT.

FISHERIES.

Toronto, 20th December, 1858.

Pursuant to certain provisions of the statute 22d Vict. cap. 86, the
Governor General in council has been pleased to adopt the fol-
lowing Regulations for Salmon and Sea-trout Fisheries in Lower
Canada:

By-Law A.—In agreement with the intent and meaning of the 4th
and 7th sections of the Fishery Act, it is hereby declared that hence-
forth the Crown, for all practical purposes, resumes and reéenters
formally into possession of all fishing stations for salmon and sea-
trout appertaining thereto, in Lower Canada, and that no claim by
priority or by reason of past occupation of any of these places, shall
hereinafter exist, and that any party or parties continuing to occupy
and use any net-fishery for salmon or sea-trout without obtaining
lease or license therefor under authority from the Crown, shall, after
previous notice, become liable to such pains and penalties as are
imposed by the aforesaid act—saving moreover, all other recourse in
like cases provided by law.

B.—Neither : stake-nets, drift-nets, gill-nets, float or stell-nets,

_scoop-nets, seines, weirs, nor other self-acting machine whatsoever
APPENDIX. 311

shall be used within the course of any river or stream frequented
chiefly by salmon and sea-trout, at a greater distance from the mouth
thereof than the usual mark of tidal floods, or inside of such other
actual limit as may be assigned in the field to each estuary holding
by the Superintendent of Fisheries for Lower Canada, or by the sti-
pendiary magistrate in charge of the government vessel for the
protection of fisheries.

C.—All nets, or other lawful appliances for the capture of salmon
and sea-trout, shall be placed within the estuary fishings at distances
of not less than-200 yards apart, the interval so designated to mean
along either side of the stream, and such measurement to leave the
space clear from any uet on one side to another net upon the oppo-
site shore, without separate intermediate nets, or other device, being
set anywhere therein.

D.—The Superintendent of Fisheries for Lower Canada, or the
stipendiary magistrate in command of the government vessel for the
protection of fisheries; may prescribe, either by written or published
instruction, or on sight, the open space between nets to be set in
bays, and elsewhere along the coast.

£.—At the outside of the chamber and in the pound of every set
or stake-net for the capture of salmon and sea-trout, there shall be
maintained a flap or “door” at least ten inches square, which must
be left open, affording free egress and passage to salmon and trout,
from sundown on Saturdays until sunrise on Mondays.

F.—All other persons are forbidden to take fish of any kind, and
in any manner, within limits covered by leases or licenses from the
Crown, except by special permission of the lessees or licentiates.

G.—The fishing for, taking, and killing of any salmon or sea-trout
by aid of torch-light or other artificial light, and by means of spears,
harpoon (négog), jigger-hooks, or grapnel, is hereby absolutely
forbidden.

#H.—Indians may, for their own bona fide use and consumption,
fish for, catch or kill salmon and trout by such means as are next
above prohibited during the months of May, June and July, but only
upon waters not then leased, licensed or reserved by. the Crown;
provided always that each and every Indian thus exempted shall be
at all times forbidden to sell, barter or give away any salmon and
trout so captured or killed in the manner hereinbefore described.

I—The receipt, gift, purchase, sale and possession by any person
or persons other than Indians of any salmon or trout which may
have been speared or taken as aforesaid, shall be punishable accord-
ing to law; and every fish so found or had in violation of this rule,
shal become forfeited and disposable as the law directs.

J.—No fishing shall be allowed in any water set apart by the
Crown for purposes of natural or artificial breeding of salmon and
trout, except under express sanction from the Superintendent of
Fisheries for Lower Canada.
312 APPENDIX.

K.—Hereafter, no slabs or edgings, or other mill rubbish, shall be
drifted awaste, or be suffered to drift awaste, into any salmon and
sea-trout rivers or streams in Lower Canada.

£.—For any breach of the foregoing Regulations the penalty
attached shall be as declared in the 42d section of the statute 22d
Vict., cap. 86.

The publication of the present By-laws in both the French and
English languages, in the Official Gazette, shall be sufficient notice to
give legal effect.

P. M. Vankoucunet,

Commissioner.

\

CROWN LANDS DEPARTMENT.

FISHERIES BRANOH.

x Quebec, 16th May, 1860.

Pursuant to certain provisions of the statute 22 Vict. cap. 62, Con-

~  solidated Statutes of Canada, His Excellency the Governor
General in council has been pleased to adopt the following
Fishery Regulations for Upper Canada:

By-Law No. 1.—The Crown having, for the purposes of the Act
22d Vict. cap. 62, Consolidated Statutes of Canada, practically
resumed and reéntered formally into possession of all fishing stations
within the Province of Canada, it is,-pursuant to the said statute,
further provided that the following Regulations shall hereinafter
apply to the fisheries of Upper Canada, and any person or persons,
continuing to occupy or use, directly or indirectly, any such net-fish-
ing without lease from the Crown, shall become liable to the pains
and penalties imposed by the Fisheries Act—saving moreover all
other recourse in like cases provided by law.

No. 2.—The use of pound-nets is hereby prohibited.

No. 3.—It is forbidden to fish for, capture or kill fish by means of
spears; except only by Indians,

No. 4.—No net or other device shall be so placed as entirely to
obstruct the passage of fish into and from their accustomed resorts
for the purposes of spawning and increasing their species.

No. 3.—Inlets and outlets around Burlington Bay and Dundas
Marsh shall be deemed to be, for the application of the Fisheries
Act, waters forming part of the said bay and marsh, as described in
section 23 of the said statute.

No. 6.—No fishing shall be allowed in any water which may have
heen leased or set. anart bv the Orown for natural or artificial pro-
APPENDIX. 313

Se at of fish,eexcept by express sanction of a fishery officer, or
officers.

No. T.—All other persons are forbidden to take fish, for purposes
of trade, within the limits covered by leases from the Crown— except
only by written permission of the lessees.

No. 8.—The receipt, gift, purchase, sale or possession of any fish
had in contravention of these Regulations shall be punishable accord-
ing to law; and the article _so had and all materials: so unlawfully
used therefor, shall become subject to forfeiture and disposal as the
law directs. : :

No. 9.—Hereafter no slabs or edgings, or other mill rubbish, shall
be sent adrift in any river or stream which may have been leased or
reserved by the Crown for propagation, or where fishways have been
erected. ‘

No. 10.—For any and every breach of the foregoing Regulations
the penalty attached shall be as declared by the aforesaid statute—
saving moreover all other recourse in. like cases provided by law.

The first publication of the present By-laws in both the English
and French languages, in the Canada Gazette, shall be sufficient
notice to give legal effect; and the production of a copy, purporting
to be printed by the queen’s printer, shall be primé facie evidence
of every such Regulation, and that it is in force as law.

And each contravention of any of the aforesaid By-laws may be

.stated as an offence against the Fisheries Act.

P. M. VanxoveHner,
Commissioner.

STRAITS OR RIVERS NIAGARA, DETROIT,
AND SAINT CLAIR.
AOT 8 WILLIAM IV. CAP. 29.

ABSTRAOT,.

Sro. I.—It is forbid to use, or cause to be used, any seine or other
net for the capture of white-fish, in the straits or rivers Detroit,
Saint Clair and Niagara, of greater length than fifty fathoms; under
forfeiture of one hundred and twenty-five pounds.

IL.—It is forbid to fish in the said straits or rivers, with seines,
gill-nets, or other nets, on the first.day of the week, called Sunday ;
under penalty, for every such offence, of fifty pounds,

Jil.—It is forbid to divert the natural progress or running of
white-fish, by shingling or other device; upon penalty of one hun-
dred and twenty-five pounds, or imprisonment.

: 14 i
314 APPENDIX.

IV.—Repealed.

V.—It is provided that one moiety of the forfeitures incurred
under this Act shall be applied to the public uses of the province,
and the other moiety to whomsoever shall have sued out such
complaint.

BURLINGTON BAY.

ACT 6 WILLIAM IV. OaP. 15.
ABSTRACT.

So. I.—Repealing clause.

II.—It is unlawful to draw any seine or other net in Burlington
Bay; except at a distance of one-half mile from the land at the out-
let thereof. :

IiI.—It is illegal at any time to set gill-nets in the waters of said
bay, or to use any device whatsoever, so as to prevent the free pass-
age of fish to and from the aforesaid hay.

IV.—For each offence against the provisions of this Act, the
offender shall incur a fine of not more than five pounds nor less than
ten shillings, and in default of payment, will be imprisoned; one
moiety of fine to be paid to the Urown, and the other moiety to
complainant, :

DAMS OF FISH PONDS.

ACT 4&5 VIOCT. CAP. 26.
ABSTRACT. Pi

Szo. XV.—And be it enacted, that if any person shall unlawfully
and maliciously break down, or otherwise destroy, the dam of any
fish pond, or of any water which shall be private property, or in
which there shall be any private right of fishery, with intent thereby
to take or destroy any of the fish in such pond or water, or so as
thereby to cause the loss or destruction of any of the fish, or shall
unlawfully and maliciously put any lime or other noxious material in
any such pond and water, with intent thereby to destroy any of the
fish therein, or shall unlawfully and maliciously break down or other-
wise destroy the dam of any mill-pond, every such offender shall be
guilty of a misdemeanor, and being convicted thereof, shall be pun-
ished accordingly.
APPENDIX. 315

FISHING ON SUNDAY.

AOT 8 VIOT. CAP. 45,
ABSTRACT.

Seo. III.—Prohibits all fishing and shooting on Sundays, under ;
penalty not to exceed ten pounds, nor be less than five shillings and
costs, a

MR. WHITCHER’S REPORT.

To rue Hon. P. M. VankoueHner,
Commissioner of Crown Lands, ete.

Sir—Your directions of the 17th of May last, honored me with
the service of inspecting and taking inventories of certain public
properties within the territory known as “The King’s Posts,” pre-
paratory to their resumption by government at the expiry of lease
with the Hon. Hudson’s Bay Company. Obedient to which I have
made a personal and minute inspection of the several premises with
the view of ascertaining their actual state. The results of such exa-
mination, and other information affecting their delivery and accept-
ance, as between the Company and the Crown, form the subject of
various special communications and of a General Report already
addressed to the Department.

* %* * * * * * *

The river Marguerite discharges a large volame of water, and in
the tidal portion affords tolerable salmon fishery. The lower course
is much broken by abrupt falls, and the fish not ascending the
stream to the more highly aérated waters of its sources, are ill-
shapen and coarse, and but of middling size. The spawning-places
swarmed with salmon fry. A trifling outlay in the construction of
stone basin steps would overcome the main obstacles to the ascent
of salmon along this stream.

The river Pentecost is smaller, and has a high fall quite inaccessi-
ble to fish, some three miles from its mouth, where the bottom is
soft and muddy, and the shores clayey, which peculiarities probably
deter salmon from entering it. In the entrance, and for upward of
a league along the St. Lawrence bank westward, there is excellent
sea trout fishing for nets. The trout reach four pounds’ weight, and
are well flavored. They take the artificial fly and bait with great
avidity at ebb and flow of the tide, particularly inside the embou-
chure. ;

y
APPENDIX.

co
mS
Ce

Stress of weather compelled me to advance from here to Trinity
Bay, without exploring the river Calumet, where I am informed
there once was an abundance of salmon.

There dre several fair salmon, and’ many good sea trout fishing
stands on this part of the coast.

The Trinity River I consider a valuable stream. Of the estuary
portion I shall not now speak, having described its fishings, etc., in
the previous season’s report. An almost uninterrupted passage for
near forty miles admits salmon into a part of this stream where it
widens and is divided by small islands. Here seems to be the breed-
ing-ground; and it is so distant from any place where fish taken
could: be disposed of, and the labor of navigating it with a canoe,
even lightly laden, is so formidable that salmon may again multiply
there in primeval quiet. Hitherto the estuary has been over-netted,
and the river barred across by gill-nets. Hence the decline of the
fishery. Now, however, fair play is insured, and the natural conse-
quence will be a rapid restoration of the river to its pristine cele-
brity.

Some three leagues west are the forks of the famous Godbout.
Here, too, the spawning-beds in the northeast branch are admirably
sheltered and spacious. The northwest arm communicates through
a long deep lake with one of the feeders of the Manicouagan River.
The Godbout salmon breed also in a north tributary of this lake;
and from appearance it might be inferred that they lie also within
the main outlet. Were spearing everywhere prohibited, and reason-
able netting alone allowed, there cannot be a doubt that the supply
of salmon from this river would in a few years become almost inex-
haustible. Indeed, when we recollect the dire havoc and riotous
abuse of fishing which this beautiful stream has already suffered,
nothing save a knowledge of its extensive and fine breeding-places
could enable us to account for the present existence of any remnant
of former abundance. There is encouragement in the hope that pro-
tective measures strictly enforced, will fast multiply and improve the
run of salmon resorting to this rich river.

* * * * * * * * 7

I cannot close this report without touching upon the subject of
spearing by Indians.

The practice of capturing salmon by torchlight and spears is justly
held to be most pernicious. Employed, as it almost invariably is, at
a time when the waters of each river are lowest and clearest, whilst
rthe salmon are balked at the base of steep falls, awaiting the next
freshet, and congregate during sultry nights near the mouths of lit-
tle rivulets emptying into the main stream, or loiter about the tails
of pools, spear-fishing involves excessive slaughter. Sometimes in
the course of one night as many salmon will be thus killed and
maimed as an ordinary net-fishery along the coast, or in the estua-
ries, can capture throughout the regular fishing seuson. Practised

‘

‘
APPENDIX. 817

during Autumn and periods of reproduction, as is still more frequently
the case, it becomes indescribably bad—it is the crowning act of
extirpation. The luckless fish are then killed at a stage which makes
the bare feature of destroyal in the highest degree deplorable.
They have won their devious way from the luscious pastures of old
ocean, through labyrinths of nets and a multitude of watery perils.
Urged onward by strong instincts, they have surmounted incredible
difficulties, and achieved marvels of adventurous travel. They are
now arrived at nature’s free hospitals of piscary lying-in. The
water-way by which they came is in many parts impassably shoal,
and no more heavy breeders can reach the same high grounds, or
supply their places, for that year at least. And after all, lean from
exertion and thin food; dark and slimy from the physical drain and
unhealthy action incident to the procreative state, perhaps sluggish
and heavy with thousands of ova,.or busied in the exhaustive labor
and anxious cares of depositing their prolific burden, they are ruth-
lessly slain by the spear. With every dead or wounded fish there
perish in embryo from ten to thirty, forty, fifty, even as high as
sixty thousand. Spawners and milters both suffer. Is it, then, pos-
ee to exaggerate the ruinous consequences of such improvi-
ence ?

There are also other features in this practice contributing to the
waste and injustice which it so entails, The salmon taken by spear
are, comparatively speaking, worthless as a marketable commodity.
But, being easily taken, the captors willingly dispose of them at
miserable prices, and in barter for the cheapest kinds of goods; for
rusty pork and molded biscuits. The wrong to the public, of suffer-
ing the richest and finest fish in Canadian waters—the precious
capital of our rivers—to be thus traded in when almost valueless,
and under circumstances that admit only of unscrupulous fisher-
men and dishonest traders deriving some mean benefits thereby, is
obvious. These dealers adroitly scarify the ugly portions, disguise
their ill-conditioned bargain by dry salting, or hot pickle, ard con-
cealing the unwholesome fish at the bottom of the tubs, or dispers-
ing them among other sound pieces, thus palm them off upon the
public. Costing little at prime, the sale is a ready one below aver-
age market price. If consumers were but once to see a few speci-
mens of unseasonable salmon struck by the spear, they would remem-
ber the loathsome sight, and rather than venture the chances of
again eating such deleterious food, would eschew salmon altogether.

If the river fisheries become exhausted through this custom, the
whole public suffers, because these streams are the nurseries which
breed supplies and furnish wealth to the longshore and estuary fish-
ings. Besides, to tolerate it must always expose crown lessees to the
risk of having their limits suddenly deterivrated by the bold en-
croachments of spearers. To punish them, even, cannot restore the
damage. Years, indeed, must elapse ere the pirated rivers can reco

~
318 APPENDIX.

ver from the effects of successive or casual devastations. And
while there remains a loophole for escape, as between the Indians
and abetting traders, active temptations on either side will drive
them to calculate their mutual chances of evading the law.

The qualified exemption of Indians under the Fishery Regulations
arose, I feel assured, from motives humane and considerate. Those
considerations doubtless were influenced by arguments in support
of such exception, drawn from the apparent necessities of Indian
life. Experience dissipates this cause of sympathy. It proves that
the Montaignais, Micmacs, Naskapis and Metifs, seldom spear sal-
mon in any considerable quantities for present subsistence; and to
smoke, or dry, or pickle them for winter use, never. They go to
the salting-vats of the nighest trader—pork, tea, sugar, tobacco, and
sometimes spirits, principally returning to the wigwam in exchange.
I, of course, speak of the Indians whilst near the St. Lawrence, whe-
ther from the interior or residing by turns near the seaboard. It is
quite a mistaken notion that they kill and cure salmon for provision-
ing the inland hunt.

The experienced missionary, Pére Arnaud, in his evidence to tho
Indian Commissioners, says, ‘‘ These Indians ¢are for nothing but
hunting and fishing.” Indeed I think that, as regards several of
them, the native love of excitement in the chase has somewhat to
do with their pertinacious pursiit of salmon by spears and flam-
beaux. It is a passion among some of the bands; and I must admit
the habit has peculiar fascinations, and to many it is strangely excit-
ing. Nothing can exceed the wild excitement with which these
men pursue it. The sombre night-scene of the forest river seems to
delight them. The elder man occupies the stern of the canoe, while
the younger takes “the post of honor” forward. The murmur of
waterfalls and rapids, drown those exclamatory Ughs/ and the fre-
quent splash that would else disturb the pervading stillness. With
steady, stealthy speed the light birchen boat enters the rapid, and
cutting through its white waters glides smoothly over the fall and
into the “ tail” of the pool above, or across the quiet “reach.” The
blazing torch, stuck in a cleft stake and leaning over the bow of the
canoe, glares with dazzling lightness. The flame and shadow,
swayed by ripples, conceal the spearers’ forms, and bewilder the
doomed salmon. Like moths, they sidle toward the fatal light;
their silvery sides and amber-colored eyeballs glisten through the
rippled water. The dilated eyes, the expanding nostrils and com-
pressed lips of the swarthy canoemen, fitly picture their eager and
excited mood. A quick, deadly aim, a sudden swirl, and those mo-
mentary convulsive wriggles tell the rest. The aquatic captive, with
blood and spawn, and slime and entrails, besmear the inside of the
canoe. Often the quarry is transfixed with wonderful precision and
instantly killed, the spinal marrow being pierced by the barb, and
the strong springy tines of the spear paralyzing in their sharp pinch
APPENDIX. 319

the whole muscular system, the fin-rays spread in a feeble quiver,
and the once powerful fish dies literally without a struggle. During
a single night from fifty to two hundred salmon may be thus slaugh-
tered, and half as many more lacerated in their efforts to escape,
the pools at such seasons being too shallow to afford certain safety
in retreat. The bed of cvarse boughs, the chill and hungry awaking
at sunrise, the mixture of peril and fagging which form the return
down a swift stream, broken by falls, and rocks, and rapids, with
here and there a tedious portage, over which several hundred pounds
of fish, and bruised and blistered canoes must be transported—all
these exertions appear but natural to Indians, and not worthy of
comparison as against the fruits of so much toil, converted at last
into six, eight, or ten dollars’ worth of provisions and store goods,
or perhaps a demijohn of home-made rum. Speared salmon are
sold to traders at their own price, as the deteriorating mode of cap-
ture so much depreciates the fish. The illegality of the purchase or
exchange, also, often is pleaded as a risk for which a further propor-
tional deduction in the value of barter must be made.

That the indians must suffer starvation by being deprived of the
“native liberty” to ruin our salmon fisheries, is a very flimsy apo-
logy on the part of those who still desire to perpetuate so flagrant
an abuse. With the exception of some families or Naskapis, who
have imprudently left their upland hunting-grounds and wandered
toward the rocky coasts, where sickness soon debilitates and cuts off
whole encampments, the lower St. Lawrence Indians do not endure
privations similar to many of the tribes in western Canada. This
comparative immunity is certainly due in great measure to the pater-
nal solicitude exercised by the exemplary missionaries of the Roman
Catholic Church. Almost total abstinence from “ fire water ” is not
the least of a beneficent improvement resulting from these self-deny-
ing missions. Were there not another salmon to be caught between
Quebec and Labrador, the extinction could not occasion to Indians
one tithe of the misery depicted by persons whose interest or preju-
dice it is to excite a sympathetic feeling favorable to the continu-
ance of facilities for spearing. I make no mere vague assertion; it
is a deduction from practical observations and inquiry. The Indians
themselves know this, and it makes them all the more reckless and
disregardfal of the future in their ravages. Trout are plentiful all
along the coast, and the inner lakes swarm with them. Every bay
and bank teems with codfish. The rod and line and bait will catch
both in hundreds. Hooks and lines are cheap as spearing imple-
ments, Seals are plenty-everywhere. The product of one seal will
buy the fishing-gear of a family for the entire year. But, it is
argued, they need pork and flour, tea and sugar, guns and ammuni-
tion, which can be bought with salmon carcasses. Yes, and all
of these articles can be better had in exchange for trout, cod, seal-
oil; skins and furs. Birch canoes, baskets, and other manufactures,
320 APPENDIX.

find rapid sale. Canoes bring from eight to twenty-four dollars
apiece, in cash. Necessity, therefore, is simply an excuse, equally de-
ceptious and unfounded. It is the habitual indolence of most of
these Indians which lies at the root of the matter. . It ties them
down to frequented spots, where inducements held out by cunning
traders, whether on land or afloat, are irresistible.
Ts there, then, sufficient reason why their inveterate habits should
be humored at the cost of extirpating the supply of salmon?
I have the honor to be, sir,
Very respectfully,
Your obedient servant,

W. F. Warrouer, J. P.
Quepsc, 81st December, 1859.

 

NOTE TO THE TRIP TO LA VAL.

For the information of those who may desire to trust themselves
alone to the companionship of the Canadian French, the following
list has been added of a few words that will be most necessary, and
many of which will be found in no French dictionary :

 

Potak, Potatoe. Sapin, Balsam fir.
Batture, Shoal. Moustique, Black fly.
Baril, Barrel. Ecorce, Bark.
Brulot, ‘Sand-fly. Aborder, To trim in.
Buchan, Smudge. Filer, To ease off.
Brochat, Mascallonge. Coude, Sheet.
Chaloupe, Pilot-boat. Mizzin, Foresail.
Perche, Rod. Grande voile, Mainsail.
Egog, Spear. Luff, Luff.
Gruyot, Porridge. Arrive, Keep off.
Belluat, Blueberry. Tapecu, Jigger.
Pleindurer, To fill. Jib, Jib.
Peinturer, To paint. Steambo, Steamboat.
Cite, Here. Bagage, Baggage.
Roches, Rocks. Epinette, Spruce.
Pilote, Pilot, Marounquin, Mosquito.
APPENDIX. ~ 321

NOTE TO TRIP TO NEW BRUNSWICK.

Fish of all kinds are extremely cheap in the provinces. Salmon,
near Boiestown, sell for sixty cents apiece, regardless of size, and
gtilse for twenty. In other places salmon are five cents a pound,
while smoked fish are worth one dollar and twenty-five cents apiece.
Lobsters are a nuisance to the fisherman, from their numbers; and
herring are abundant.

The expenses of a trip for two fishermen visiting both the Mira-
michi and Nipisiquit, and occupying a month, were as follows:

 

Fare to St. John 2... ... cece cee ee tence $12 00
Stale POO sou% 5 delces aigen reais neee es 1 00
To Fredeficton .........0-. eee eee cece eee 8 00
Extra to Wilson’s .......0c eee cece eee eeees 11 00
Stores for the Miramichi .............-5.55- 82 84
Men’s wWages...... ceed ee cece eee cee eneeees 60 00
Extra to Newcastle..............-+5 Fos ithe 17 00
Fare to Chatham. ..........-. eee ee eee cers , 140
ts Bathurst:.:.¢c00 2s saaest cesses 7 00
Stores on the Nipisiquit..............-.00e 29 95
Men’s WageS......-- cece eee eter eee e eens 50 00
Wagon to the Round Rocks .........--++-+- 4 00.
Extra on return to Chatham..............-- 14 00
Fare to St. John ...... 2. cece eee ee eens 8 00
Ce BOStOn: sis sarees ss savaeiew a beweiseeaes 11 00
Meals and other expenses .........--+-0 +00 35 00
Delicacies ..........-. PS cndueed aeeuee StS .... 10 00
$806 69

 

CLASSIFICATION.

Every naturalist originates a classification for himself; thank
Heaven, I am only a sportsman, and shall merely refer to that of
Cuvier. He makes grand divisions of fish into the bony and carti-
laginous; the former being separated into spinous and soft rayed,
the latter into those with free or fixed gills. :

Acanthopterygit, fin-rays spinous, including the percida, or perch ,
family, which has the edge of the gill-cover, or fore gill-cover, or
both, denticulated or armed with spines; the cheeks not mailed, and
teeth on both jaws, the vomer and palatines. In this family are
comprised the perea or perch prover the labraa or salt-water bass,

4
399 _ APPENDIX.

the Awro or black bass of Lake Huron, the Jucio perca or pike perch,
the seranus or groupa, the centrupristes or.sea bass, the grystes or
black bass, the centrarchus or rock bass—two genera generally con-
founded—the pomotis or sun-fish, and several others so rare in our
waters that they are omitted. .

The second family of the spine-rayed order is the triglide, which
is similar to the percide, except that the cheeks are mailed as it were
by the suborbitals being greatly extended and articulated with the
fore gill-cover. It includes the trigla prionotus and dactylopterus
or gurnard and flying-fish; the cottws, sculpin or bull-head; the
hemitripterus, also known as sculpin ; and the gasterosteus or stickle-
back; besides many genera that are rare.

The third family is the scienid@, which have no teeth in the pala-
tines or vomer, but have scales on the base of the vertical fins;
otherwise they resemble the perch family. They comprise the
leiostomus or Lafayette, the ofolithus or weak-fish, the corvina or
lake sheepshead and branded drum or red-fish of the South, the
umbrina or king-fish, the pogonias or salt-water drum.

The fourth family is the sparide, which has no spines or denticu-
lations on the gill-covers, and no teeth on the palate, but has large
scales. It includes the sargus or salt-water sheepshead and sand-
porgee, and the pagrus or common porgee.

The next family that frequents our waters is the scombride, which
has no spines or denticulatioris on the gill-covers, and no scales on
the vertical fins; the scales are small. It includes the scomber or
mackerel proper, the thynnus or tunny, the pelamys or bonito, the
trichiurus or ribbon-fish, ,the ziphias or sword-fish, the naucrates
or pilot-fish, the caranz or yellow mackerel, the seriole or rudder-
fish, the temnodon or blue-fish, the rhombus or harvest-fish.

The next family is the atherinide, represented by the silversides
or sand-smelts; and the next the mugilide, It has minute teeth,
entire and large scales extending over the head, and comprises the
mugil or mullet proper. The next family is the gobide, which lave
an elongated body, small scales or none, the spines of the dorsal
flexible, and the ventrals, when present, before the pectorals, and it
includes the gunnedlus or butter-fish, the zoarces or eel-pout; and the
next the lophide, which usually have no scales, but <ccasionally
spiny plates in lieu of them, and have the carpal bones elongated to
support the pectorals, The lophius proper is the sea-devil or fishing-
trog, a rapacious creature, well known on our coast by various names,
aud the batrachus, the well-known toad-fish.

The last of the spine-rayed families is the labride, which have
fleshy lips covering the jaws, toothless tongue and palate, three
pharyngeals, two above and one beneath, furnished with teeth, sharp
or flattened, and an oblong, scaly body. This family comprises the
ctenolabrus or bergall, otherwise chogset or cunner, and the tautoga,
tautog or black-fish.
APPENDIX. 323

The malacopterygii, or soft-rayed, are separated into the addomi-
nal, which have the ventrals in the centre of the abdomen; the subd-
brachial, which have the ventrals at the shoulder; and the apodal,
or footless, that is without lower fins.

Of the abdominal, the first family is that of the siluride., It 19
distinguished by a naked, slimy skin, a large head with“several fila-
ments, usually a second adipose dorsal, and the first ray of the dorsal
and pectoral a strong articulated spine. They comprise the cat-fish,
bull-pouts, bull-heads and horned-pouts, as you please to call them,
the common kinds being classed under the genus pimelodus.

The second family is the eyprinida, which have small jaws, a weak
mouth, mostly toothless, large scales, one dorsal, and teeth on the
pharyngeals. The cyprinus carpio is the common carp, the cyprinus
auratus the gold-fish, both of which were imported and are not indi-
genous. This family also includes the abramis or bream, sometimes
called dace; the ‘labeo, chub or chub-sucker; the catastomus or
common sucker, of which genus the species are known by. varied
popular appellatives, such as mullet, barbel, dace, horned-dace, golden
mullet, red-horse and shoemaker ; the genus leuciseus or dace proper,
also the red-fin, roach and shiners; the funduius or killifish, other-
wise minnow or mummychog; and the Aydragira or fresh-water
minnow. ‘

The next family, the esocide, has one dorsal opposite the anal, an
elongated body, and a large mouth filled with sharp teeth. It in-
eludes the esox or pickerel and maseallonge; the belone or sea-pike,
sometimes miscalled gar-fish and sea-snipe; the scomberesow or Dill-
fish; and the exocetus or flying-fish proper.

The family of the jistularid@ includes the pipe-fish; and the next
family of importance is that of the salmonide, comprising the salmo
salar or salmon, the salmo fontinalis or American brook trout, the
salmo confinis or lake trout, and the salmo amethystus or Mackinaw
salmon, the osmerus or smelt, and the coregonus or white-fish and
Otsego bass.

The family of the clupide has a single dorsal and compressed
scaly body. It includes the clupea or herring, the alosa or shad, ale-
wife and mossbunker; and the family of the sawride has only one
common representative, called the buffalo-fish.

Of the sub-brachial we have the family gadide, which have the
jaws and point of the vomer armed with rasp-like teeth, and two or
three dorsals. Morrhua, cod, tom-cod or frost-fish, haddock and the
melucius, or hake, form the most considerable genera; the lota or
burbot of the lakes, and the merlangus or pollack, are also taken in
large numbers. .

The next family, the planidmw, has a flat body, the under side
white and the upper dark, both eyes on one side of the head, and a
dorsal extending the entire length of the back. It includes the hip-
3824 APPENDIX.

poglussus or halibut; the platessa, flounder, fluke and flat-fish; the
pleuronectes or turbot; and the achirus or sole.

Of the apodals, or those without lower fins, we have the anguil-
lide or eels, and the genus conger or eonger eel, and the ammedytes
or sand-lance. ;

The subdivision lophobranchii, which is distinguished by having
little tufts at the gills, has the following families:

- The syngnathide, which have the body armed with transverse
plates, and have a large gill-cover and single dorsal. It includes the.
syngnathus or pipe-fish, and the hippocampus or sea-horse.

The subdivision plectonathi have concealed gills and a narrow
fissure for gill opening; the family gymnodontide has in lieu of
teeth a bony substance like enamel, and includes the diodon or
balloon-fish and the tetraodon or swell-fish, both of which can inflate
themselves. The family balistidw is represented by the file or
fool-fish.

Of the cartilaginous fish the eleutheropomi have free gills with a
strong cover, but no rays, and include the family of the sturionida,
which have large bony plates in longitudinal rows and a mouth
underneath and toothless. The genus acipenser or sturgeon is alone
common,

The order plagiostomi has fixed gills without-cover; the family
sqgualide, which has the gill-holes never underneath, comprises the
carcharias or shark, the lamna or mackerel shark, the mustellus or
dog-fish, the selachus or basking shark, and the zygena or hammer-
headed shark.

The family raiide@ has a flattened body, large pectorals and. bran-

,chial openings underneath. Jt comprises the rays, the skates and
the devil-fish.

The order cyclostomi includes the family petromyzonida, which has
neither pectorals nor ventrals, comprising the petromyzon or sea-
lamprey and the ammocetes or common lamprey.

These are the principal varieties of fish found in the waters of the
northern section of America according to their scientific designa-
tions and their confused and intricate popular appellations. Perhaps
in time, with the diffusion of knowledge and the efforts of sportsmen,
uniformity may be obtained, and the language of Massachusetts be
comprehensible to the inhabitants of Iowa. To effect this object
should be the desire of all, and it is to be hoped that naturalists. and
sportsmen will mutually aid one another by ascertaining the-appro-
priate name of each species, and when ascertained, by applying it
invariably.