The Salmon—Salmon Adventures.

Tadousac. June.

I intend to devote the present letter to the acknowledged king of all the finny tribes, the lithe, wild, and beautiful salmon. He pays an annual visit to all the tributaries of the St. Lawrence lying between Quebec and Bic Island, (where commences the Gulf of St. Lawrence), but he is most abundant on the north shore, and in those streams which are beyond the jurisdiction of civilization. He usually makes his first appearance about the twentieth of May, and continues in season for two months. Nearly all the streams of this region abound in waterfalls, but those are seldom found, which the salmon does not surmount in his “excelsior” pilgrimage; and the stories related of his leaps are truly wonderful. It is not often that he is found man bound at the head of the streams he may have ascended; but when thus found and captured, his flesh is white, skin black, and his form “long, lank, and lean as is the rebbid sea-sand.” His weight is commonly about fifteen pounds, but he is sometimes taken weighing full forty pounds. The salmon is an important article of export from this region, and is also extensively used by the Indians. The common mode for taking them is with a stationary net, which is set just on the margin of the river at low water. It is customary with the salmon to ascend the St. Lawrence as near the shore as possible, and their running time is when the tide is high; the consequence is, that they enter the net at one tide, and are taken out at another; and it is frequently the case, that upwards of three hundred are taken at one time. The Indian mode for taking them is with the spear by torch-light. Two Indians generally enter a canoe, and while one paddles it noiselessly along, the other holds forth the light (which attracts the attention of the fish, and causes them to approach their enemy), and pierces them with the cruel spear. This mode of taking the salmon is to be deprecated, but the savage must live, and possesses no other means for catching them. It is but seldom that the Indian takes more than a dozen during a single night, for he cannot afford to waste the bounties which he receives from Nature. For preserving the salmon, the Canadians have three modes: first, by putting them in salt for three days, and then smoking them; secondly, by regularly salting them down as you would mackerel; and, thirdly, by boiling, and then pickling them in vinegar. The Indians smoke them, but only to a limited extent.

I must now give you some account of my experience in the way of salmon-fishing with the fly, of which glorious sport I have recently had an abundance. If, however, I should give you a number of episodes, you will please to remember that “it is my way,” and that I deem it a privilege of the angler to be as wayward in his discourse as are the channels of his favourite mountain streams.

My first salmon expedition of the season was to the St. Margaret River. I had two companions with me; one an accomplished fly-fisher of Quebec, and the other the principal man of Tadousac, a lumber merchant. We went in a gig-boat belonging to the latter, and, having started at nine o’clock, we reached our place of destination by twelve. We found the river uncommonly high, and a little rily. We made a desperate effort, however, and threw the line about three hours, capturing four salmon, only one of which was it my privilege to take. He was a handsome fellow, weighing seventeen pounds, and in good condition; he afforded my companions a good deal of fun, and placed me in a peculiar situation. He had taken the hook when I was wading in swift water up to my middle, and as soon as he discovered his predicament, he made a sudden wheel and started down the stream. My rod bent nearly double, and I saw that I must give him all the line he wanted; and having only three hundred feet on my reel, I found it necessary to follow him with all speed. In doing so I lost my footing, and was swept by the current against a pile of logs; meantime, my reel was in the water and whizzing away at a tremendous rate. The log upon which I depended, happened to be in a balancing condition, and, when I attempted to surmount it, it plunged into the current and floated down the stream, having your humble servant astride of one end, and clinging to it with all his might. Onward went the salmon, the log, and the fisherman. Finally, the log found its way into an eddy of the river, and, while it was swinging about as if out of mere malice, I left it, and fortunately reached the shore. My life having been spared, I was more anxious than ever to take the life of the salmon which had caused the ducking, and so I held aloft my rod, and continued down the stream over an immense number of logs and rocks, which seemed to have been placed there for my especial annoyance. On coming in sight of my fish, I found him in still water, with his belly turned upward and completely drowned. I immediately drew him on a sand-bank near by, and, while engaged in the reasonable employment of drying my clothes, my brother fishermen came up to congratulate me upon my success, but laughing in the meantime most heartily. The lumber merchant said, that the log I had been riding belonged to him, and it was his intention to charge me one shilling for my passage from the rift where I had hooked the salmon to the spot where I had landed him, which was in full view of the Saguenay; and my Quebec friend remarked, that he knew the people of Yankee-land had a queer way of doing things, but he was not acquainted with their peculiar mode of taking salmon. As may be readily imagined, we retraced our steps back to the log shantee where we had stopped, and, having carefully stowed away our salmon, we laid aside our fishing tackle, and made arrangements for a little sport of another kind.

The hamlet of St. Margaret, where we spent the night, contains some eight or ten log shantees, which are occupied by about twenty families, composed of Canadians, Indians, and half-breeds. They obtain their living by “driving” logs, and are as happy as they are ignorant. Anxious to see what we could of society among this people, we sent forth a manifesto calling upon the citizens generally to attend a dance at the cabin of a certain man, whom we had engaged to give the party at our expense. Punctual to the appointed hour the assembly came together. Many of the men did not take the trouble even to wash their hands, or put on a coat before coming to the party; but the women were neatly dressed, with blue and scarlet petticoats, over which were displayed night-gowns of white cotton. The fiddler was an Indian, and the dancing-hall (some twelve feet square) was lighted with a wooden lamp, supplied with seal-oil. The dance was without any particular method, and when a gentleman wished to trip the light fantastic toe, he only had to station himself on the floor, when one of his friends would select his partner, and lead her up for his acceptance. The consequence was, that if a man wished to dance with any particular lady, he was obliged to make a previous arrangement with his leading-up friend. The fiddler not only furnished all the music, but also performed a goodly portion of the dancing—fiddling and dancing at the same time. The supper was laid on the table at ten o’clock, and consisted principally of dried beaver-tail and cariboo meat, fried and boiled salmon, (which was cooked out of doors near the entrance to the cabin), rye-bread, maple molasses, and tea.

The party broke up at twelve o’clock; when we retired to the cabin where we had secured lodgings, and it is an actual fact, that our sleeping-room on that night was occupied not only by ourselves, but by two women, one man, and four children, (divided into three beds), all members of the same family, with whom we had succeeded in obtaining accommodations. On the following morning we rose at an early hour, and again tried our luck at salmon-fishing, but only killed a few trout; whereupon we boarded our gig and started down the romantic Saguenay, telling stories and singing songs.

Another river in this region which affords good salmon fishing is the Esquemain. It empties itself into the St. Lawrence about twenty miles east of the Saguenay. It is a cold, clear, and rapid stream, abounding in rapids and deep pools. At its mouth is situated a saw-mill, but its water-works are so managed as not to interfere with the salmon. The fish of this stream ascend to a great distance, and, though rather small, are exceedingly abundant.

The best fishing in the river is at the foot of a waterfall, which forms a sheet of foam, about one mile above the mouth. My Quebec friend accompanied me to this place, and, though we only threw the fly about six hours (three in the evening and three in the morning), yet we killed thirteen salmon, without losing a single line, and with the loss of only three flies.

Owing to the bushy shores of the stream, we were compelled to fish standing upon boulders situated in its centre; and whenever we hooked a fish, there was no alternative but to plunge into the current and trust to fortune. For some unaccountable reason (of course it could not have been our fault), we lost more than half of those we hooked; but it was worth a moderate fortune to see the magnificent leaps which the fish performed, not only when they took the fly, but when they attempted to escape. There was not one individual that did not give us a race of at least half a mile. The largest taken during this expedition was killed by my companion, and caused more trouble than all his other prizes. Not only did this fellow attempt to clear himself by stemming the foam of a rapid, and rubbing his nose against a rock to break the hook, but he also swept himself completely round a large boulder, poked his head into a net, and ran with the speed of lightning to the extreme end of his line. It took my friend forty minutes to land this salmon; and I can assure you that he was particularly pleased when he found that his fish weighed one pound more than the largest I had taken. The fact was, our rods were almost precisely alike in length and strength; and, as two countries were represented in our persons, the strife between us was desperate. I will acknowledge that the Canada gentleman took the largest salmon; but the States’ angler took them in the greatest number.

Notwithstanding all the fine sport that we enjoyed on the Esquemain, I am compelled to state that it was more than counterbalanced by the suffering that we endured from the black fly and musquito. The black fly is about half as large as the common house fly, and, though it bites you only in the day-time, they are as abundant in the air as the sand upon the sea-shore, and venomous to an uncommon degree. The musquito of this region is an uncommonly gaunt, long-legged, and hungry creature, and his howl is peculiarly horrible.

We had been almost devoured by the black flies during the afternoon, and as soon as darkness came, we secured a couple of beds in a Frenchman’s house, and as we tumbled in, congratulated ourselves upon a little comfortable repose. It was an exceedingly sultry night, and, though we were both in a complete fever from the fly-poison circulating in our veins, the heat excelled the fever, and our bodies were literally in a melting condition. We endeavoured to find relief by lying on the bare floor, with no covering but a single sheet; and this arrangement might have answered, had it not been for the flood of musquitoes which poured into the room, as one of us happened to open a window to obtain fresh air. Every spot on our bodies, which the flies had left untouched, was immediately settled upon by these devils in miniature. They pierced the very sheets that covered us, and sucked away at our blood without any mercy.

Unwilling to depart this life without one effort more to save it, we then dressed ourselves and sauntered into the open air. We made our way towards a pile of lumber near the saw-mill, and, without a particle of covering, endeavoured to obtain a little sleep; but the insect hounds soon found us out, and we bolted for another place. Our course now lay towards the rude bridge which spans the Esquemain, just above the mill. Our intentions at the time, though not uttered aloud, I verily believe were of a fearful character. On reaching the bridge, however, a refreshing breeze sprang up, and we enjoyed a brief respite from our savage enemies.

We now congratulated each other on our good fortune, and had just resolved to be happy, when we discovered a number of Indians in the river spearing salmon by torch-light; and as it was after midnight, and the heathen were spearing on our fishing-ground, we mournfully concluded that our morning sport was at an end. But, while in the very midst of this agreeable mood of mind, a lot of skylarking musquitoes discovered our retreat, and we were again besieged. We now endeavoured to find relief on board the boat which had brought us from the Saguenay, and here it was that we spent the two last hours of that most miserable night.

Though not exactly in a fitting condition to throw the fly with any degree of comfort, we made an effort after salmon in the morning, and succeeded in killing a portion of the thirteen already mentioned. That we enjoyed the good breakfast which we had prepared for our especial benefit, and that we departed from Esquemain as soon as possible, are facts which I consider self-evident.

The mouth of the Saguenay, as I have before remarked, is completely hemmed in with barriers of solid rock; and when the tide is flowing in, from one of these points, first-rate salmon fishing may occasionally be enjoyed. I have frequently had the pleasure of throwing the fly on the point in question, and on one occasion was so carried away with the sport that I took no notice of the rising tide. It was near the sunset hour, and on preparing for my departure home, I discovered that I was completely surrounded with water, and that my situation was momentarily becoming more dangerous. The water was bitter cold and turbulent, and the channel which separated me from the main shore was upwards of a hundred yards wide. I was more than half a mile from the nearest dwelling, and could not see a single sail on the Saguenay, or the still broader St. Lawrence, excepting a solitary ship, which was ten leagues away. My predicament, I assure you, was not to be envied. I could not entertain the idea that I should lose my life; and, though I felt myself to be in danger, my sensations were supremely ridiculous. But something, I was persuaded, must be done, and that immediately; and so I commenced throwing off my clothes for a final effort to save my life. I had stripped off every thing but shirt and pantaloons, and to a flock of crows which were cawing above my head I must have presented an interesting picture. I thought of the famous swimming adventures of Leander and Lord Byron, and also of the inconveniences of being drowned (as Charles Lamb did of being hanged); but just as I was about to make the important plunge, an Indian in his canoe came gliding around a neighbouring point, and I was rescued, together with one salmon and some dozen pounds of trout.

But I have not finished my story yet. On the night following this incident, I retired to bed in rather a sober mood, for I could not banish the recollection of my narrow escape from a ducking, if not from a watery grave. The consequence was, that in my dreams I underwent ten times as much mental suffering as I had actually endured. I dreamed that in scaling the rocks which lead to the point alluded to, I lost my footing, and fell into the water. While in this condition, drinking more salt water than I wanted, floundering about like a sick porpoise, gasping for breath, and uttering a most doleful moan, I was suddenly awakened, and found my good landlord at my side, tapping me on the shoulder, for the purpose of summoning me—from the back of the nightmare I had been riding.

As I may not have another opportunity of alluding to this portion of the Saguenay, and to the rocky point already alluded to, I must give my reader another and a remarkable incident connected with them. Some years ago, the Hudson’s Bay Company had in its employ as clerk, at Tadousac, an intelligent and amiable young man, whose name was McCray. For some unaccountable reason he became deranged; and on one occasion, a cold and stormy winter night, he took it into his head to cross the Saguenay upon the floating ice, which was running at the time. When first discovered, he was about half-way across the stream, and making frightful leaps of ten and fifteen feet from one block of ice to another. His friends followed in close pursuit, with a boat, as soon as possible; but on reaching the opposite shore, the unhappy man was not to be found. On the day following, however, some people who were hunting for him in the woods, discovered him perched in a tree, almost frozen to death, and senseless as a clod of the valley. He was taken home, the circulation of his blood restored, and he is now an inmate of the Quebec Lunatic Asylum. The mind of this worthy man was thought to be of a high order; and it is certain that he possessed an extensive knowledge of botany and geology. From remarks that escaped him subsequently to the wonderful feat he performed, it is supposed that, at the time of starting across the river, he was thinking of a particular book which he wished to obtain, and had been told could be purchased in Quebec, towards which place (unattainable by land) he had set out. It is worthy of record, that poor McCray is the only man who ever crossed the deep and angry Saguenay on the ice, as it is never solidly frozen; and it is almost certain, that the feat he performed, can never be again repeated.

But to return to my piscatorial remarks. Next to the salmon, the finest sporting fish of this region is the trout. Of these I have seen two species, the salmon and the common trout. Of the former I believe there is but one variety; but that is an exceedingly fine fish for sport or the table, and is found in the lower tributaries of the St. Lawrence, from five to fifteen pounds. They are taken chiefly in the salt water, and possess a flavour which the trout of our Western lakes do not. Of the common trout, I have seen at least six varieties, differing, however, only in colour; for some are almost entirely white, others brown, some blue, some green, some black, and others yellow. These are taken everywhere in the St. Lawrence, and in all its tributaries. Those of the Saguenay are the largest, most abundant, and of the rarest quality. Upon the whole, I am inclined to set this river down as affording the finest trout-fishing that I have ever enjoyed, not even excepting that which I have experienced at the Falls of St. Mary, in Michigan. Almost every bay or cove in the Saguenay is crowded with trout; and, generally speaking, the rocks upon which you have to stand afford an abundance of room to swing and drop the fly. In some of the coves alluded to, I have frequently taken a dozen two-pound trout during the single hour before sunset.

Trout fishing, in this region, possesses a charm which the angler seldom experiences in the rivers and lakes of the United States, which consists in his uncertainty as to the character of his prize before he has landed him; for it may be a common or salmon trout, or a regular built salmon, as these fish all swim in the same water. It is reported of a celebrated angler of Quebec, that he once spent a week on the Esquemain, and captured within that time seventy salmon, and upwards of a hundred trout. This is a very strange story, but I have faith enough to believe it true.