The Greatest Fish Story Ever Told!
Forest and Stream
The events that happened in Kekoskee, Wisconsin are so extraordinary and improbable that I always hesitate about telling the story. The evidence is legal, convincing and overwhelming. In total it makes up the grandest fish story in the history of a lifetime. It is really a story about bullheads, and of course it is a beautiful story, for the bullhead is naturally a romantic fish. Every man in Mayville and Kekoskee knows this story, and without any hint or coaching will tell it to you exactly as his neighbor does. Everyone in town knows the horse too. You see, there was...
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A Greenhorn and Big John in the Wilds of Michigan - January 18, 1877
Forest and Stream
If the sketch which follows, depicting a general outline of incidents which entered into the experience of a "Greenhorn," on his first deer hunt in the wilds of Michigan, shall have the effect of driving the work-encumbered denizens of the city into some reasonable consideration for his own wellbeing, by taking for himself such recreation as will yield him the greatest possible benefit, the object of it will have been accomplished. After a fellow has spent say thirty years of his life with his nose at the grindstone, it is not astonishing that it comes to strike him at last as being somewhat...
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Trout Fishing - January 1, 1874
Forest and Stream
Forest and Stream - By the Poets Hand. TROUT FISHING, a poem by Eunice B. Lamberton.
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The Back Lakes of Canada - January 1, 1874
Forest and Stream
A deer hunting adventure, covering 50 miles in a canoe.
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Natures Invitation - August 14, 1873
Forest and Stream
NATURES INVITATION On the fair face of Nature let us muse, and dream by lapsing stream and drooping wood; Tread the dark forests whose primeval ranks, since the creation dawn have cast their shade; Ponder by flowing stream and ocean tides, and note the varied forms of life they hold, Mark the wild game so clear to hunter's heart, the swarming fowl that skim the salty deeps, The birds that haunt the woodlands and the plains, The fish that swim the seas, the lakes, the streams, And tempt the thoughtful angler to their marge; Glance at the life that fills our native woods, and game of Asian...
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Metaphysics of Deer Hunting - October 2, 1873
Forest and Stream
METAPHYSICS OF DEER HUNTING When the financial panic was at its height last week, we visited a wealthy friend whose up-town mansion is palatial, his income from safe and judicious investments always ample and assured, and his bank account invariably showing a balance to his credit of many thousands. A gentleman who dabbles little in speculative risks; and whom cares of State and fluctuations of the market of late do not perplex ; one of those rare exceptions among men, content with sufficient and not ambitious for more. Surely, his was a case not, within the range of human probability, to be...
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Caribou Hunting in Nova Scotia - September 25, 1873
Forest and Stream
A far reachinging journey through forests and across barrens in pursuit of the elusive Caribou.
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Reminiscence of Lake Superior - February 26, 1874
Forest and Stream
REMINISCENCE OF LAKE SUPERIOR BY THOMAS SEDGWICK STEELE It was with a hearty laugh that Dr. W. bounded into my room one bright morning in the latter part of September, without waiting to knock or in any way announce his arrival. In almost the same breath he called out, “Why! you’re a pretty fellow to be housed here all day long, fussing over those feathers and wires ! Why are you not on the river trolling, or in the woods after partridges? Come, put up those tools and lets off for a day’s tramp. Peter has put up enough luncheon for two, so pick up your gun and come on.” The fact was,...
info_outlineTROUT FISHING
Give me a rod of the split bamboo,
A rainy day and a fly or two,
A mountain stream where the eddies play,
And mists hang low o'er the winding way.
Give me a haunt by the purling brook,
A hidden spot in a mossy nook,
No sound save hum of the drowsy bee,
Or lone bird's tap on the hollow tree.
The world may roll with its busy throng
And phantom scenes, on its way along;
It's stocks may rise, or it's stocks may fall—
Ah! what care I for its baubles all?
I cast my fly o'er the troubled rill,
Luring the beauties by magic skill,
With mind at rest and a heart at ease,
And drink delight from the balmy breeze .
As lusty trout to my glad surprise,
Speckled and bright, on the crest arise,
Then plash and plunge in a dazzling whirl,
Hope springs anew as the wavelets curl.
Gracefully swinging from left to right,
Action so gentle, motion so slight,
Tempting, enticing, on craft intent,
Till yielding tip by the game is bent.
Drawing in slowly, then letting go
Under the ripples where mosses grow,
Doubting my fortune, lost in a dream,
Blessing the land of Forest and Stream.
By Mrs. Eunice B. Lamberton
Rochester, N.Y., Dec. 15, 1873