Lippincott's Magazine, August, 1885

by Various

  FISHING IN ELK RIVER.

  When a man has once absorbed into his system a love for fishing orhunting, he is under the influence of an invisible power greater thanthat of vaccine matter or the virus of rabies. The sporting-fever is theveritable malady of St. Vitus, holding its victim forever on the go, asgame-seasons come, and so long as back and legs, eye and ear, canwrestle with Time's infirmities. It breeds ambition, boasting, and"yarns" to a proverbial extent, with a general disbelief in the possibleveracity of a brother sportsman, and an irresistible; desire to talk ofnew and privately discovered sporting-heavens. The gold-seeker stakeshis claim, the "wild-catting" oil-borer boards up his lot, the inventorpatents his invention, and the author copyrights his brain-fruit; butthe sportsman crazily tells all he knows. So the secret gets out, andthe discoverer is robbed of his treasure and forced to seek new fieldsfor his rod and gun.

  Colonel Bangem had enjoyed a year's sport among the unvisited preservesof Elk River. Mrs. Bangem and Bess, their daughter, had shared hispleasures and acquired his fondness for such of them as were withinfeminine reach. Any ordinary man would have been perfectly satisfiedwith such company and delights; but no, when the bass began to leap andthe salmon to flash their tails, the pressure was too great. His friendsthe Doctor and the Professor were written to, and summoned to his find.They came, the secret was too good to keep, and that is the way thischronicle of their doings happens to be written.

  No sooner was the invitation received than the Doctor eased hisconscience and delighted his patients by the regular professionalsubterfuge of sending such of them as had money to the sea-shore, andtelling those who had not that they needed no medicine at present; theProfessor turned his classes over to an assistant on pretext of a suddenbronchial attack, for which a dose of mountain-air was the prescribedremedy. And so the two were whirled away on the Chesapeake and OhioRailroad across the renowned valley of Virginia and the eastern valleysteps of the Alleghany summits, past the gigantic basins where boil andbubble springs curative of all human ills, down the wild boulder-tossedwaters and magnificent canons of New River, around mountain-bases,through tunnels, and out into the broad, beautiful fertility of theKanawha Valley, until the spires of Charleston revealed the last stageof their railroad journey. When their train stopped, stalwart portersrelieved them of their baggage and deafened them with self-introductionsin stentorian tones: "Yere's your Hale House porter!" "I's de man ferSt. Albert's!"

  "It's no wonder," said the Doctor, as he followed the sable guide fromthe station to the river ferry, and looked across the Kanawha's busyflow, covered with coal-barges, steamboats, and lumber-crafts, toCharleston's long stretch of high-bank river front, "that Western riversget mad and rise against the deliberate insult of all the towns andcities turning their backs to them. There is a mile of open front,showing the cheerful faces of fine residences through handsomeshade-trees and over well-kept lawns; but here, where our ferry lands,and where we see the city proper, stoops and kitchens, stove-pipes andstairways, ash-piles and garbage-shoots, are stuck out in contempt ofthe river's charms and the city's comeliness."

  "Stove-pipes and stairways have to be put somewhere," said thematter-of-fact Professor. "And the best way to turn dirty things istoward the water."

  The ferry-boat wheezed and coughed and sidled across the river to afloating wharf, covered, as usual, with that portion of the population,white and black, which has no interest in the arrival of trains, oranything else, excepting meals at the time for them, but which managesto live somehow by looking at other people working.

  "Give me," said the Professor, "the value of the time which men spend ingazing at what does not concern them, and, according to my estimate, Icould build a submarine railroad from New York to Liverpool in two yearsand three months. What are those fellows doing with their huge barrelson wheels backed into the river?"

  "Dat is de Charleston water-works, boss," answered the grinning porter."Widout dem mules an' niggahs an' bar'ls dah wouldn't be 'nough water indis town to wet a chaw tobacky."

  A winding macadamized road leads up the river bank to the main streetrunning parallel with it. There is a short cut by a rickety stairway,but, as some steep climbing has to be done before reaching the lowerstep, it is seldom used. These formerly led directly to the Hale House,a fine brick building, which faced the river, with a commodious portico,and offered the further attractions of a pleasant interior and anexcellent table; but now a blackened space marked its site, as though ahuge tooth had been drawn from the city's edge, for one morning aneighboring boiler blew up, carrying the Hale House and much valuableproperty with it, but leaving the owners of the boiler.

  "Dat's where de Hale House was, boss, but it's done burned down. I's deporter yit. When it's done builded ag'in I's gwine back dar. Dis time Itake you down to de St. Albert. I's used to yellin' Hale House porter somany years dat St. Albert kind chokes me."

  So to the St. Albert went the Doctor and Professor, where they met witha home-like greeting from its popular host.

  Wheeling was formerly the capital of West Virginia, but for good reasonsit was decided to move the seat of government from "that knot on thePanhandle" to Charleston. A commodious building of brick and sandstone,unchristened as to style of architecture, has been erected for the homeof the law-makers; and henceforth the city which started around thelittle log fort built in 1786 by George Glendermon to afford protectionagainst Indians will be the seat of government for the great unfencedState of West Virginia. Its business enterprise and thrift, itsexcellent geographical and commercial position, its healthinessnotwithstanding its bad drainage, or rather no drainage, have induced agrowth almost phenomenal. Churches, factories, and commodiousstorehouses have spread the town rapidly over the beautiful valley inwhich it lies. The United States government has been lavish in itsexpenditure upon a handsome building for court, custom, and post-officepurposes; and to it flock, especially when court is in session, asmotley an assortment of our race as ever assembled at legal mandate.Moonshiners, and those who regard whiskey-making, selling, and drinkingas things that ought to be as free as the air of the mountain andlicenses as unheard-of impositions of a highly oppressive government,that would "tax a feller for usin' up his own growin' uv corn," andcourts as "havin' a powerful sight uv curiosity, peekin' into otherfellers' business," afford ample opportunities for the exercise ofjudicial authority.

  A long mountaineer was before a dignified judge of the United StatesCourt for selling liquor without a license. He had bought a gallon at astill,--as to the locality of which he professed profoundignorance,--carried it thirty miles, and peddled it out to hislong-suffering and thirsty neighbors. Every native being a naturalinformer, the story was soon told: arrest followed, a march of fiftymiles over the mountains, and a lengthy imprisonment before trial.Following the advice of his assigned counsel, he pleaded guilty. Beingtoo poor to pay a fine, and having an unlimited family dependent upontheir own exertions,--which comprises the sum of parental responsibilityamong the natives,--the judge released him on his own bail-bond, andtold him to go home. He deliberately put on his hat, walked up to hishonor, and said, "I say, jedge, I reckon you fellers 'ill give me 'noughmoney to ride hum an' pay fer my grub, 'cause 'tain't fair, noway. Youfetched me clar down yere, footin' it the hull way, an' now you'relettin' me off an' tellin' me to foot it back. 'Tain't fair, noway.You-uns oughter pay me fer it." And he went off highly indignant athaving his modest request refused.

  There is much of the primitive not outgrown as yet by Charleston: it hasput on a long-tailed coat over its round-about. The gossipy telephoneis ahead of the street-cars; gas-works supply private consumers, whilethe citizens wade the unlighted streets by the glimmer of their ownlanterns; innumerable cows contest the right of pedestrians to the boardfootways and what of pavement separates the mud-holes; anice-manufactory supplies coolness to water peddled about in barrels; theofficials outnumber the capacity of the jail; the ferry-facilities varyfrom an unstable leaky bateau to a dirty, open-decked dynamitestea
mboat, whose night-service is subject to the lung-capacity of thetraveller hallooing for it, and the fares to necessities andcircumstances; the fine brick improvements are flanked by frametinder-boxes; the offal of the city has not a single relieving sewer:yet it is a beautiful, healthy place, and the chief city of the greatestmineral-district in the world.

  Our travellers breakfasted on delicious mountain mutton and vegetablesfresh from surrounding farms. Their host secured three men and a canoeto carry them up Elk River to Colonel Bangem's camp, at the cost of onedollar a day and "grub," or one dollar and a quarter a day if they foundthemselves, with the moderate charge of fifty cents a day for the canoe.

  When the time arrived for starting, the Professor was missing. Bellswere rung, servants were despatched to search the hotel for him, but hewas not to be found. The Doctor grew impatient, but restrained himselfuntil an uncoated countryman, who had just walked into town and wasready for a talk, told him that he "seed a feller, thet wuz a strangerin these parts, with a three-legged picter-gallery, chasin' a water-carta right smart ways back in the town, ez I come in."

  "That's he," said the Doctor. "He is crazy after pictures. I'll give youa dollar if you bring him to the hotel alive."

  "Is he wicked?" asked the man.

  "Generally," answered the Doctor, whose eyes began to twinkle; "but youget hold of his picture-gallery and run for the hotel: he will followyou. I often have to manage him that way."

  "I'm minded to try coaxin' him in thet a-way fer a dollar. You jist takekeer uv my shoes, an' I'll hev him yer ez quick ez Tim Price kin footit, if he follers well an' hain't contrairy-like, holdin' back."

  Tim Price relieved his feet of their encumbrances, and started. When histall, gaunt figure had disappeared around the corner, the Doctor grewred in the face from an internal convulsion, and then exploded past allconcealment of his joke.

  "If you gentlemen," he said to the by-standers, "want to see some fun,just follow that man. I will stay here as judge whether the man bringsin the Professor or the Professor brings in the man."

  A good joke would stop a funeral in Charleston. The hotel was cleared ofmen in an instant to follow Tim and enjoy the hunt. Tim sighted theProfessor about a quarter of a mile back in the town, A darky driving awater-cart was standing up on the shafts, thrashing his mule with theends of his driving-lines, and urging it, by voice and gesture, to thehighest mule-speed: "Git up! git up! you lazy old no-go! Git up! Don'tyou see dat picter-feller tryin' to took you an' me an' de bar'l? Gitup! Wag yer ears an' switch yer tail. You're not gwine ter stan' stillan' keep yer eyes on de instrement fer no gallery-man to took, 'lessyou's fix' up fer Sunday. Git up, you ole long-eared corn-eater!"

  The Professor was keeping well up with the flying water-works. His hatwas stuck on the back of his head, he carried his camera with its tripodspread ready for sudden action, and every step of his run was guided bythoughts of proper distance, fixed focus, and determination to have thewater-works in his collection of instantaneous photographs. A turn inthe street gave the Professor his opportunity: he darted ahead, set hiscamera, and took the whole show as it went galloping by, when hereclined against a fence while making the street ring with his laugh.

  Tim Price, who was watching his chance, saw that it had come. He grabbedthe camera, gave a yell of triumph, and faced for the home-run. He hadnot an instant to lose. The Professor sprang for his preciousinstrument. Tim's long legs carried him across the street, over a fenceinto a cross-cut lot, and away for the hotel at a mountaineer's speed.The Professor was small, but active as a cat. Where Tim jumped fences,the Professor squirmed through them; where Tim took one long stride, theProfessor scored three short ones. Tim lost his hat, and the Professorthrew off his coat as he ran. The main street was reached withoutperceptible decrease of distance between them; but there the pavementswere something Tim's bare feet were not used to catching on, and thepeople something he was not used to dodging: he upset several, butdashed on, with his pursuer gaining on his heels. Men, women, dogs, anddarkies turned out to witness the race or follow it. "Stop thief!" "Goit, Tim!" "You're catching him, stranger!" "Foot it, little one!" werecries that speeded the running. The Doctor stood waiting at the hoteldoor, laughing, shaking, and red as a veritable Bacchus. Tim Pricebanged the camera into him, whirled round suddenly, caught the Professoras he dashed at him, and held him in his powerful arms, squirming likean eel.

  "Yere's your crazy man, stranger," said Tim, in slow, drawling tone. "Itell you he kin jest p'intedly foot it. Thar hain't been such a run inKanoy County sence they stopped 'lectin' country fellers fer sheriff. Ireckon I've arned thet dollar. What shall I do with the leetle feller?"

  The Professor was powerless, but lay in Tim's arms biting, kicking, andcurled up like a yellow-jacket interested with an enemy.

  "Let him go," said the laughing Doctor. "He will stay with me now. He isnot dangerous when I am about. Set him on his feet."

  No sooner was the Professor deposited on the pavement than he dealt Tima stinging blow which staggered him, and stood ready with trainedmuscles set for defence.

  "Look yere, leetle un," said Tim, coolly and with great self-restraint,"'tain't fer the likes uv me to hit you, bein's you're a bit out in yourtop, but I'll gin you another hug ef you do that ag'in; I will,p'intedly."

  In the good humor of the crowd, the mirth of the Doctor, and thelatter's possession of the camera the Professor scented a joke, and atonce saw his friend's hand in it. He joined in the laugh at his expense,and lengthened his friend's face by saying, "The Doctor having had hisfun, he will now pay the bill at the bar for all of you: he pays all myexpenses: so walk in, gentlemen."

  The laws of hospitality west of the Alleghanies do not permit any one todecline an invitation, so the Doctor settled for the whole processionand paid Tim Price his well-earned dollar.

  "Captain," said Tim to the hotel-proprietor, who had joined the crowd,"ef two fellers comes here from the East, one uv 'em ez round ez apunkin an' red ez a flannel shirt an' bald ez a land-tortle, an' t'otherez brown ez a mud-catty an' poor ez a razor-back hog, tell 'em I'm yereto pilot 'em up Elk to Colonel Bangem's caliker tents. He said they wereez green ez frogs, an' didn't know nothin' noway, an' fer me to takekeer uv 'em. He don't reckon they'll come tell to-morrow. One uv 'em's ahoss-doctor, an' t'other's a perfessor uv religion, Colonel Bangemtelled me. I dunno whether the feller's a circuit-rider er a ralepreacher."

  "That's the highly-illuminated pumpkin, my good man," said theProfessor, pointing to the Doctor, "and I am Colonel Bangem's spiritualadviser. We got here a day sooner than we expected to."

  "You don't say? May I never! An' the colonel never telled me nothin'nohow 'bout any one uv you bein' crazy. Howdee? How do you like theseparts? Right smart town we've got yere, hain't it? I'll take keer uvyou. There hain't no man on Elk River kin take keer uv you better norTim Price, ary time. I hain't much up to moon men, though. Thar's onefeller up my way thet gits kinder skeery at the full uv the moon; but Ihain't never tended him. I reckon I kin l'arn the job,--ez the ole boysaid when his marm set him to mindin' fleas off the cat."

  Tim Price was the hunter, boatman, fisherman, yarn-spinner, andcharacter of his region, and Colonel Bangem's faithful ally in all hissports: the latter had therefore sent him to meet his friends on theirarrival at Charleston, and he at once proceeded to take command of thewhole party as a matter of course.

  "I footed it over the mountains, and sent my boat the river way. Hitoughter be yere now: so we'll pack you men's tricks to the boats an'p'int 'em up-stream. It 'ill be sundown afore we git thar."

  The party started from the hotel, the procession followed to see themoff, and they were soon down the Kanawha and into the mouth of Elk atthe point of the town. Log rafts, huge barges, miles of railroad-ties,laid-up steamers, peddling-boats, with their highly-colored storehouses,fishermen's scows, floating homely cabins alive with bare-leggedchildren and idlers of the water-side, push-boats loaded to the edge ofthe narrow gunwales with merchandise for delivery to
stores and dwellersfar up the river, boats loaded with hoop-poles, grist, chickens, and the"home-plunder" of some mover to civilization, coming down the river fromthe mountain-clearing, and samples of every conceivable kind of theriver's outpour, were tied to the banks or lazily floating on thecurrentless back-water from the Kanawha.

  An old steamboat-captain once said of Elk that "it was the all-firedestriver God ever made,--fer it rises at both ends and runs both ways towunst." This is true, and is caused by the Kanawha, when rising, pouringits water into the mouth of Elk and reversing its current for manymiles, while at the same time rain falls in the mountains, increasingthe latter river's depth and velocity. Flour-mills, iron-foundries,saw-mills, woollen-mills, and barrel-factories extend their long woodenslides down to the river's edge, to gather material for theirconsumption. A railroad spans it with an iron trussed bridge, and thedemands of wagon and foot-travel are met by an airy one suspended bycables from tower-like abutments on either side, both bridges swung highin the air, out of reach of flood and of the smoke-stacks of passingsteam-craft.

  A mile from the river's mouth, and just beyond the limits of Charleston,is one of the finest sandstone-quarries in the world. The United Statesgovernment monopolizes most of its product in the construction of themagnificent lock and shifting dams in course of erection on the Kanawhato facilitate the transportation of coal from the immense deposits nowbeing mined to the great markets of the Ohio River. A little farther on,the brown front of a timber dam and cribbed lock looks down upon a wildswirl and rush of water; for through a cut gap in its centre Elk flowsunobstructed,--a penniless mob having made the opening one night thattheir canoes might pass free and capitalists be encouraged to removesuch worthless stuff as money from the growing industries of the river.Prior to this act of vandalism the water was backed by the dam for adistance of fourteen miles, to Jarrett's Ford, making a halting-placefor rafts and logs, barges and floats, coming down from the vast forestsabove when rains and snow-thaws raised the river and its tributaries;but now a long stretch of boom catches what it can of Elk's commerce andis a chartered parasite upon it.

  Here at the old dam the mountains close in tightly upon the narrowvalley. Log cabins and a few simple frame houses nestle upon diminutivefarms; the wild beauty of shoal and eddy, bouldered channel andlake-like stretches of pool, rocky walls and timber-clad peaks, beginsto charm the stranger and draw him on and on through scenery asattractive as grand toss of mountains and delve of river can make it.

  By dint of poling, pushing, rowing, and pulling, the boats were workedover rapids and pools for almost a score of miles, to where the lastrays of the sun slid over a mountain-point and hit Colonel Bangem's hatas it spun in the air by way of welcome, while the prows clove the waterof a lovely eddy lying in front of his camp. The meeting was that of oldfriends, with the addition of a blush from Bess Bangem and its brightreflection from the Professor's face.

  Tim Price took the colonel to one side mysteriously, and whispered, "Itook keer uv the Perfessor my own self: he guv me a power uv trouble,though. Shell I hitch him now, er let him run loose?"

  "We'll turn him loose now, Tim; but if he takes to turning somersets,catch him, loosen his collar, take off his boots, and throw him into theriver," was the colonel's sober reply.

  Scientists nowadays set up Energy as the ancestor of everything, measurethe value of its descendants by the quantity they possess of the familytrait, and spend their time in showing how to utilize it for the good ofmankind in general. Professor Yarren was an apostle of Energy: itabsorbed him, filled him. From the weight of the sun to boiled potatoes,from the spring of a tiger to the jump of a flea, from the might ofchemical disembodiment to opening an oyster, he calculated, advised, anddilated upon it. He himself, was the epitome of Energy: in his size heeconomized space, in his diet he ate for power, not quantity. To himeating and sleeping were Energy's warehousemen; idleness was dry-rot,moth, and mildew; laughing, talking, whistling, singing, somersets, andfishing, never-to-be-neglected and in-constant-use safety-valves. Heregarded himself as an assimilator of everything that went into him, beit food, sight, sound, or scent, and his perfection as such in exactratio to the product he derived from them. So when next morning he said"Come on" to the Doctor, and Colonel Bangem, Mrs. Colonel Bangem, BessBangem, and Martha, the mountain-maid, who were all standing in front ofthe camp rigged for a day's fishing, he meant that one of Energy'ssafety-valves was ready to blow off, and that further delay might bedangerous to him.

  In the Doctor, Energy was stored in bond as it were, subject to duties,and only to be issued on certificate that it was wanted for use andeverything ready for it: therefore at the Professor's "Come on" hecalmly sat down on a log, filled his pipe, leisurely lighted it, andgood-humoredly remarked, "I am confident that one-half of what we calllife is spent in undoing what we have done, in lamenting the lack ofwhat we have forgotten, or going back after it: therefore I make it arule when everything seems ready for a start--especially when goingfishing--to sit five minutes in calm communion with my pipe, thinkingmatters over. It insures against much discomfort from treacherousmemories and neglect."

  As the Doctor whiffed at his pipe, he inventoried guns, tackle, lunch,hammocks, air-cushions, gigs, frog-spears, and all other necessaries fora day's sport on the river. The result was as he had prophesied,--manythings had been omitted. "Now," said he, when the five minutes were up,"we might venture down the bank, which, rest assured, each member ofthis party will have to climb up again after something left behind."

  A motley little fleet awaited the party at the water'sedge,--square-ended, flat-bottomed punts, sharp-bowed bateaux, long,graceful, dug-out canoes, and a commodious push-boat, with cabin andawning, whose motive power was poles. Elk River craft are as abundant asthe log cabins on its banks, and their pilots are as numerous as theinhabitants. Neither sex nor size is a disqualification, for, exceptingthe trifling matter of being web-toed, all are provided from birth withwater-going properties, and, be it seed-time or harvest, the river hasthe first claim upon them for all its varied sports and occupations. Ashot at mallard, black-head, butter-duck, loon, wild goose, orblue-winged teal, as they follow the river's winds northward in thespring-time, will stop the ploughs furrowing its fertile bottoms as faras its echoes roll around mountain-juts, and cause the hands that heldthe lines to grasp old-fashioned rifles for a chance at the wingedpassers. When, later, woodcock seek its margins, gray snipe, kill-deer,mud-hens, and plovers its narrow fens, the scythe will rest in thehalf-mown field while its wielder "takes a crack at 'em." And whenautumn brings thousands of gray squirrels, flocks of wild pigeon andwater-fowl, to feed on its mast, no household obligation or out-doorprofit will keep the natives from shooting, morning, noon, and night.

  Some day in the near future a railroad will be built "up Elk," and then,while commerce and civilization will get a lift, the loveliest of riverswill be scarred; her trout-streams, carp-runs, bass-pools,salmon-swirls, deer-licks, bear-dens, partridge-nestles, andpheasant-covers will be overrun by sports-men, her magnificent mountainswill be scratched bald-headed by lumbermen, her laughing tributarieswill be saddened with saw-dust, and her queer, quaint, originalboat-pullers and "seng-diggers" will wear shoes in summer-time and coatsin winter, weather-board their log cabins, put glass in the windows andpartitions across the one room inside. Woods-meetings will creep intochurches, square sousing in the river will degenerate to the gentlebaptismal sprinkle; no picnics or barbecues will delight the inhabitantswith flying horses and fights, open fireplaces and sparking-benches willgive way to stoves and chairs, riding double on horseback, with fairarms not afraid to hold tight against all dangers real or fancied, willbe a joy of the past, "bean-stringin's," "apple-parin's,""punkin-clippin's," "sass-bilin's," "sugar-camps," "cabin-raisin's,""log-rollin's," "bluin's," "tar-and-feathering," and "hangin's," will beout-civilized, and the whole country will be spoiled.

  "It looks like a good biting morning for bass," said Colonel Bangem,while he was distributing the party prop
erly among the boats. "But, inspite of all signs, bass bite when they please. It is a sunny morning:so use bright spoon-trolls, medium size. If the fish rise freely,twenty-five feet of line is enough to have out on the stern lines; and,as the ladies will use the poles, ten feet of line is enough for them.Don't forget, Mrs. Bangem, to keep your troll spinning just outside theswirl of the oar, and as near the surface of the water as possible. Youknow you _will_ talk and forget all about it. Now we will start. If weget separated and it grows cloudy, change your trolls for three-inch'fairy minnows;' and if the wind ripples the water, let out from sixtyto eighty feet of line. Take the centre of the river, and you will haulin salmon; for bass will not rise to a troll in the eddies when thewater is rough. Salmon will. Tim, take the lead with the Professor, thatthe other men may see your stroke and course. In trolling, the oarsmanhas as much to do with the success as the fisherman."

  Off they went, three to a boat, the fishers seated in bow and stern, theladies in front with their fishing-poles, and the oarsman in his properplace, rowing a slow, steady stroke, dipping true and silently justfifty feet from bank, or sedge, or shelf of rock, steering outside ofsnags and drift and where overhanging trees buried their shadows in thewater.

  The boats had hardly reached their positions--two on each side of thestream--when a shout from the Professor announced a catch, as hand overhand he cautiously drew in the swerving line or held it taut, as thediving fish sought the rocky bottom or the friendly refuge of a logdrift. With unvarying stroke Tim kept his boat in deep water, away fromentangling dangers. There was a flash in the air and a jingle of thetroll, as a fine bass shot out of the water to shake the barbs from hisopen mouth; but the hooks held firm, and the taut line foiled the effortto dislodge them. Down came the fish with a splash, to dart for theboat at lightning speed and leap again for life; but this time no jingleof troll announced his game. He leaped ahead to fall upon the line andthus tear the hooks from their hold. Successful fishing depends upon twothings,--the presence of fish and knowing more than fish do. At theinstant of the fish's leap the Professor slackened his line: down camethe bass on a limber loop, defeated in his strategy and wearied by hiseffort, to be hauled quickly to the boat's side and landed, wrigglingand tossing, at Tim Price's feet.

  "You've cotched bass afore, Perfesser. You ez up to their ways ez amus'rat to a mussel, er a kingfisher to a minner," exclaimed Timadmiringly, as he loosened the troll from a two-pound bass. "Hit'sp'intedly a pity you're out uv your head 'bout picters."

  "Oh, I have one! I have one!--a fish! What kind is it?" screamed BessBangem, who was the Professor's companion, as her light trout-pole bentfrom a sudden tug, and the reel whirred as the line ran off.

  "Stop him, hold on to him, wind him in, and I will tell you," answeredthe Professor, laughing.

  Bess was a practised hand, and loved the sport; but, woman-like, shealways paused to wonder what she had caught before proceeding to findout.

  "It will be the subject of a lecture for you, whatever it is," repliedBess, with a saucy shake of her head, as she wound in the line andguided the playing fish with well-managed pole. Her fine face flushedwith the excitement of the run and leap of her prey, as it came nearerand nearer, until Tim slipped the landing-net quietly under it andlanded a beauty in the boat.

  "Poor fellow! I wonder if I hurt him?" said Bess.

  "Not much, if any," remarked the Professor. "I never was a fish, andconsequently never was foolish enough to jump at a bunch of hooks; but,as the cartilage of a fish's mouth is almost nerveless, there is butlittle pain from a hook diet. Bass, salmon, pike, and other gamey fishwill often keep on biting after they have been badly hooked."

  "So will men," said Bess, as she threw her troll into the water to dofresh duty.

  "You're p'intedly keerect," said Tim Price. "I got the sack four times,an' hed right smart mittens, afore I cotched a stayin' holt on my oldwoman."

  Shout after shout waked the mountain-echoes, as fish were held up intriumph, and as the boats glided over the smooth water of the eddy.Ahead was a mass of foam and a long dash of water down a shoal.

  "Yere's where me and the colonel catches 'em lively when I pull him,"said Martha to the Doctor. "They bite yere ez lively ez a stray pig in atater-patch. Whoop! I've got him! He pulls like a mule at ahitchin'-rope. Keep your boat head to the current, Alec, an' pull hard,er we'll drift down on him an' I'll lose him. Whoop! May I never! Afive-pounder! I'll slit him down the back an' brile him fer breakfast.Whoop! In you come!"

  The boatmen pulled hard against the fierce current at the foot of theshoal, crossed and recrossed, circled, and at it again, until a score ormore of noble bass were hooked from the swirl, and Colonel Bangem ledthe way up the rapids. Then the oarsmen leaped into the water and towedthe boats through the wild current, until the eddy at the top of itallowed them to take oars again.

  "Preacher, kin you paddle?" asked Tim Price of the Professor, as hedrained the water from his legs before getting into the boat. "Ef youair a hand at it, take an oar an' paddle a bit astern: there'll be whitepeerch an' red-hoss lyin' yere at the head uv the shore."

  The Professor took an oar and paddled, while Tim Price poised himself inthe boat, spear in hand and the long rope from its slender shaft coiledat his feet. He peered intently into the water as the boat moved slowlyalong. Presently every muscle of him was set: he bent backward for acast, pointed his spear with steady hands to a spot in the river, andquick as a flash it pierced the water until its ten-foot shaft was seenno more. As quickly was it recovered by Tim's active hands catching theflying line to haul it in; and on its prongs squirmed a monstrous fishof the sucker tribe,--a red-horse,--pinned through and through by hisunerring aim.

  Shoal and eddy, swirl and silent pool, yielded good sport and harvest,as haunts of bass and salmon were entered and passed, until the invitingmouth of Little Sandy Creek suggested rest for the boatmen and a strollfor the fishers. A neat hotel, clean and well kept for so wild a region,harbors lumbermen, rivermen, and those who love the rod and gun. Thereare many such attractive centres along the banks of Elk, with charmingcamping-grounds, where neighboring hospitality abounds, and chickens,eggs, milk, corn, and bacon are abundant and cheap, and the finestbass-and other fishing possible, from Queen's Shoal--four miles away--tothe old dam above Charleston. Above Queen's Shoal the region increasesin wildness and attractiveness for traveller or sportsman. Trout inplenty find homes in the mountain-tributaries of Upper Elk; deer abound,and all manner of smaller game. Where nature does her best work, man isapt to do but little. Nature farms the Elk country.

  Bright moonlight, the early morning after the sun is up, and from acouple of hours after mid-day until the mountain-shadows strike thewater in the evening, are the best times to troll for bass. If sominded, they will rise to a fly at such times in the rapids; but noallurement excepting the troll will bring them to the surface in stillwater. When the river is rising, or the water is clouded with mud ordrift, bass scorn all surface-diet; but the live minnow or crawfish,hellgramite or fish-worm, will capture them on trout-line or hookattached to the soul-absorbing bob. A clothes-line wire cable, furnishedwith well-assorted hooks baited with cotton, dough, and cheese wellmixed together, and stretched in eddy-water when the river is muddy,will give fine reward in carp, white perch, catfish, turtles, garfish,and sweet revenge on the bait-stealing guana.

  After nooning, lunch, and a quiet loaf, the party sped homeward with thecurrent, handling rods and trolls as salmon and bass demanded livelyattention. Shooting a rapid, and out into a deep pool at its foot, theDoctor's boat struck a snag, and he, having a resisting power equal tothat of a billiard-ball, put his heels where his head had been, anddisappeared under the water, to pop up again instantly, sputtering andspitting, like a jug full of yeast with a corn-cob stopper.

  "Oh, Hickey! Whoop!" exclaimed Martha, as she went off in wild screamsof laughter. "Kin you swim?" she asked, with the coolness of themountain-maiden she was.

  "No, no," sputtered the Doctor.

&
nbsp; "I reckon you'll tow good. Jest gimme your han', an' keep your feetdown, an' me an' Alec 'ill tow you ashore to dreen. Hit's like you'repurty wet."

  He was soon landed by the stalwart Martha and Alec, and, while heattitudinized for draining, the Professor amused himself with taking aninstantaneous photograph.

  "By gum! he mought hev drownded," said Tim Price to the Professor. "TheDoctor hain't a good shape fer towin', but he floats higher than anycraft of his length I ever seed on Elk River."

  Just as the golden light of evening cast its sheen upon the river thecamp-tents came in sight, where a group of natives stood waiting thearrival of the fishers to "hear what luck they'd hed."

  Colonel Bangem and Bess carried off equal honors in greatestcount,--sixty-two bass and five salmon each. Martha, with herfive-pounder, was weight champion. Mrs. Bangem had the only blue pike.The Professor claimed that, besides his twoscore fish, he hadillustrations enough for a comic annual; and the Doctor asserted that heknew more about bass than any of them, for he had been down where theylived, and was of the opinion that he had swallowed a couple.

  Bess Bangem said to the Professor, as they went up the bank together, "Ihad a great mind to count you in with my fish, to beat father; but Icaught you long ago, so it would not have been fair."

  TOBE HODGE.