was rather emphatic. I wondered how I was to get up! All being on board
the good _chaloupe_ Quebec, the sails were spread to the breeze, and by
one o’clock we had beat out of the bay, down the Saguenay, and were on
the St. Lawrence. As we sailed, the canoes which had been in tow were
hoisted on deck; one, turned upon its side, was lashed to the shrouds
of the vessel on either side, and the third, turned bottom up, was laid
upon the cabin deck. The wind was N. W., and favorable, so that we made
about eight knots an hour. We landed at Escomains, to take on
board Pierre Jacques, a full-blooded Indian, possessing the usual
characteristics of his race—laziness and love of whiskey. He was Mr.
Macdonough’s guide; and, despite the weaknesses mentioned, proved a
good guide and a most skilful canoeist. We continued to sail until ten
o’clock at night, when we dropped anchor. The night was dark and rainy,
the wind fresh, and the river very rough, causing our little craft
to dance, roll, and pitch in a most disgusting manner. We had no
seasickness on board, but much wakefulness on my side of the cabin.
Being thus “Rocked in the cradle of the deep,” was not a success as a
soporific, in my case, at least.
_August 4th_.—Seven o’clock, A. M. We have been sailing since daylight
this morning, and are now at anchor near the Sault au Cochon. Mr.
Macdonough had occasion to visit a country store near the falls, and
suggested that I try to catch a trout for breakfast. The stream which
empties into the St. Lawrence here is of considerable size—say forty
feet wide—and pours over a ledge of rocks, or precipice, about fifty
feet in height, into the head of a small bay. The water under and near
the fall is very rough and swift. My guide launched my canoe, paddled
me out, and placed me in such a position that I could cast in the eddy
formed by the swift waters from the fall. With a hornbeam rod, of ten
ounces in weight, and twelve feet in length, armed with two flies, I
whipped the waters. A few casts brought up a trout. I saw its head as it
rose for my dropper, struck, and hooked the fish. It ran down with the
current, my click reel singing the tune so delightful to anglers’ ears,
until near one hundred feet of line was out. Placing my gloved thumb
upon the barrel of the reel, I checked its progress. The trout dashed
right and left, from and towards me, at times putting my tackle to a
severe test. It kept below the surface of the water; therefore, I could
only judge of the size of my captive by the strength it exerted in its
efforts to escape. My enthusiastic guide was much excited, and cheered
me by such remarks as, “Juge he big trout. He weigh three, four, five
pounds! He very big trout!” I concurred in his opinion, as it often
required the utmost strength of my right hand and wrist to hold my rod
at the proper angle. After playing the fish fifteen or twenty minutes,
without its showing any signs of exhaustion, I slowly, and by sheer
force, reeled the fish to the canoe, and my guide scooped it out
with the landing net. I then discovered it was not the monster we had
supposed it to be, but that it was hooked by the tail fly at the roots
of the caudal fin. The fish was killed, by a blow upon the head, and
weighed. The scales showed two pounds two ounces. The guide paddled
ashore, and upon the rocks near the falls built a fire, and prepared our
breakfast. The fish was split open on the back, spread out upon a plank,
to which it was secured by wooden pegs, set up before the fire, and
thus broiled, or more properly, roasted. A more delicious trout I never
tasted.
Up to this point, what has been written has been abstracted from the
prolix journal that I kept of this bout.
As I have taken my first sea-trout from Canadian waters it is fitting
that I turn to the subject of this article,
SEA-TROUT.
Like all anadromous fishes its “ways are dark and past finding out.”
Hence scientists, naturalists, anglers and guides differ widely and
materially in regard to its proper name, its species, and its habits.
Scarcely any two writers upon the subject have agreed in all these
points. Sea-trout (_Salmo Trutta_) abound in northern Europe. As stated
by Foster in his “Scientific Angler,” in “nearly every beck and burn,
loch and river of Scotland and Ireland; and are readily taken with a
fly.” These sea-trout have been mentioned and described by many eminent
writers—Sir Humphry Davy, Yarrel, Foster, and others. The description
given of this fish, the number of rays in its fins, its coloring and
markings, and lastly the absence of all red or vermilion spots render it
absolutely certain that they are not in species identical with the sea
trout of the Dominion of Canada.
As is shown by Thaddeus Norris, in his admirable work, “The American
Angler’s Book,” conclusively I think, the supposed identity of the two
kinds of sea-trout mentioned have led many writers astray when speaking
of the sea-trout found in American waters.
Norris has applied to the latter fish the name _Salmo Canadensis_,
given, I believe, by Col. Hamilton Smith, in 1834. Whether icthyologists
can find a better or more appropriate one matters not. It is desirable
that there be a name to distinguish this fish from all others, and this
one, if generally adopted, will serve all necessary purposes.
In describing the fish Norris writes thus: “A Canadian trout, fresh from
the sea, as compared with the brook trout, has larger and more distinct
scales; the form is not so much compressed; the markings on the back are
lighter and not so vermiculated in form, but resemble more the broken
segments of a circle; it has fewer red spots, which are also less
distinct.” He also thinks the sea-trout, until they attain the weight
of two pounds, more slender in form. Again I quote verbatim: “In color,
when fresh run from the sea, this fish is a light, bluish green on the
back, light silvery gray on the sides, and brilliant white on the belly;
the ventral and anal fins entirely white; the pectorals brownish blue in
front and the posterior rays rosy white. The tail is quite forked in the
young fish, as in all the salmonidæ, but when fully grown is slightly
lunate.”
Genio C. Scott, who laid no claim to being a scientist, but who was
a close observer, also compares the same fish, which he calls the
Silver-trout or sea-trout, _Trutta Argentina_, or _Trutta Marina_, with
the brook trout. He says, “The sea-trout is similar to the brook-trout
in all facial peculiarities. It is shaped like the brook-trout. The
vermicular marks on the back, and above the lateral line, are like those
of the brook-trout; its vermicular white and amber dots are like the
brook-trout’s; its fins are like the brook-trout’s, even to the square
or slightly lunate end of the tail. It has the amber back and silver
sides of such brook-trout as have access to the estuary food of the eggs
of different fishes, the young herring,” etc.
These descriptions differ but little, and are, I believe, as accurate
in the main as can be given. Both these writers, as will be seen, are
discussing, and have taken opposite sides upon the question, whether the
Canadian sea-trout is an anadromous brook-trout. This question was very
well presented by Mr. Macdonough (my companion) in an article entitled
“Sea-Trout Fishing,” published in _Scribner’s Monthly Magazine_ for May,
1877. He begins thus: “What is a sea-trout? A problem to begin with,
though quite a minor one, since naturalists have for some time past kept
specimens waiting their leisure to decide whether he is a cadet of
the noble salmon race, or merely the chief of the familiar brook-trout
tribe. Science inclines to the former view upon certain slight but sure
indications noted in spines and gill covers. The witness of guides and
gaffers leads the same way; and the Indians all say that the habits of
the sea-trout and brook-trout differ, and that the contrast between the
markings of the two kinds of fish taken from the same pool, forbids the
idea of their identity. Yet the testimony of many accomplished sportsmen
affirms it. The gradual change of color in the same fish as he ascends
the stream from plain silvery gray to deepest dotted bronze; his haunts
at the lower end of pools, behind rocks, and among roots; his action in
taking the fly with an upward leap, not downwards from above—all
these resemblances support the theory that the sea-trout is only an
anadromous brook-trout.... Indeed the difference in color between the
brook-trout and sea-trout ranges within a far narrower scale than that
between parr, grilse, and salmon.” The reader who has not read the paper
would doubtless thank me for quoting it entire.
As will have been seen, the conscientious and lamented Thad. Norris,
when he wrote as above quoted, thought that the Canadian sea-trout were
not the English _Salmo Trutta_, nor the _Salmo Fontinalis_, and as proof
gave this table showing the number of rays in the fins of the following
fish:
[Illustration: 0069]
He adds, speaking of the last two fish—“there being only a difference
of one ray in the pectorals, which may be accidental.” I am credibly
informed that some years after his book was written, and after a more
familiar acquaintance with the _S. Canadensis_, his views underwent
an entire change, and that he wrote “the _S. Canadensis_ is the _S.
Fontinalis_ gone to sea.”
The space allowed me for this paper will not admit of my quoting further
from the writings of those above mentioned or of others upon this
subject.
I will now state, as briefly as I can, my own views resulting from long
familiarity with brook-trout, gained by thirty-five years of angling for
them, my acquaintance with the sea-trout of Long Island, and those found
in Canadian waters. In regard to the markings of the fish _immediately
after migrating from salt to fresh water_ it is unnecessary to say more,
except that the vermicular marks differ somewhat in different fish. Some
that I caught and examined closely had, as Scott says, “vermiculate
marks on the back very plain and distinct.” And on others, as Norris
writes, “the markings on the back were lighter and not so vermiculated
in form, but resembling more the broken segments of a circle.” The fish
in this respect differ from each other far less than often do brook
trout, taken from the same pool. Norris thinks the sea-trout more
slender in form than the brook-trout until the former attains the weight
of two pounds. I have not been able to discover this difference between
sea-trout and the brook-trout taken from the waters of this State. The
trout of Rangeley Lake, and waters adjacent in Maine (I assume, as I
believe, they are genuine brook trout), are thicker and shorter than
trout of the same weight caught in the State of New York, or the
Canadian sea-trout. I have two careful and accurate drawings—one of
a sea-trout which weighed four and one-quarter pounds, and measured
twenty-two and one-half inches in length, and five and one-eighth inches
in depth—the other of a Rangeley trout that weighed eight pounds, and
measured twenty-six inches in length, and eight and a half inches in
depth. I have seen and measured several Rangeley trout two of seven
pounds each, one of four and one-half pounds, etc., and in all I think
there was a similar disproportion as compared with the other trout above
mentioned.
As regards the number of rays in the fins of sea-trout I can only say
that while fishing for them I counted the rays and found them to compare
in number with those of the brook-trout as given by Norris in the table
inserted ante.
All the writers from whom I have quoted, and all persons with whom
I have conversed who have fished for these sea-trout, concur in the
opinion that soon after the sea-trout enters fresh water, a change in
color and appearance begins, which ends in assimilating, as nearly as
may be, the fish in question to the brook trout. On the first day’s
fishing, when my guide accompanied me, he opened the mouth of a trout
and called my attention to small parasites—“Sea-lice,” he called
them—in the mouth and throat of the fish. He said that the presence of
these parasites was a sure indication that the fish had just left the
salt water; that they would soon disappear in fresh water. As a matter
of curiosity I examined the mouths of several fish, and invariably found
that if they presented the appearance described by Norris and Scott, the
parasites were present; but if they had assumed a gayer livery none were
to be found. The change in color, which begins with the trout’s advent
to fresh water, is progressive, and ceases only when the object of its
mission, the deposit and impregnation of the spawn, is accomplished. In
proof of this I will state that during the last days of our stay on
the stream, and notably in fish taken fifteen or twenty miles from
tide water, it was not infrequent that we caught trout as gorgeous
and brilliant in color as the male brook trout at the spawning season.
Whether this change of color is attributable to the character of the
water in which it “lives, moves, and has its being,” to the food it
eats, or other causes, it is impossible to say. I often caught from the
same or adjacent pools, trout fresh from the sea and dull in color, and
those showing in a greater or less degree the brilliancy of the mountain
brook trout. Of course they differ widely in appearance, and therefore
it is not surprising that the “Indians all say,” as expressed by Mr.
Macdonough, “that the contrast between the markings of the two kinds of
fish forbids the idea of their identity.”
As mentioned by Mr. Macdonough the sea-trout have their “haunts at the
lower end of pools” [and upper end he might have added with truth],
“behind rocks, among roots,” in short, in the same parts of a stream
that an experienced angler expects to find and does find the brook
trout.
The sea trout will take the same bait, rise at the same fly, and rest
at the same hours of the day, as brook trout. The flies that I ordered,
made from samples furnished by Mr. Macdonough, who had had some years’
experience on the stream before I accompanied him, were much larger and
more gaudy than the usual trout flies, and ordinarily were sufficiently
_taking_ in character; but, on very bright days, when the water was low
and clear, we found that the flies used by us on the Beaver Kill, and
Neversink, in Sullivan County, New York, were better. The largest trout
taken by us on this bout—four and one-quarter pounds—was hooked with
a stone fly made by Pritchard Brothers, of New York, for use on those
streams. On one occasion, I took at one cast, and landed safely, two
trout, weighing three pounds and one-quarter, and one and three-quarters
pounds, respectively, upon one of the said stone flies and a mediumsized
gray hackle.
In conclusion of this part of my article, I will say that, for the
reasons above given, I have no doubt but that the Canada sea-trout are
anadromous brook trout, and that they should be classed with the _salmo
fontinalis_, or, if preferred, _salvelinus fontinalis_.
The trout in question come up the St. Lawrence from the ocean in large
numbers, and file off, probably in accordance with the instinct of
anadromous fishes, to the streams in which they were severally hatched.
The detachment for our stream reaches it invariably in the first days of
August. “When once fairly in the current” (I quote from Mr. Macdonough’s
paper), “their movements up-stream are very rapid. Passionless and
almost sexless, as the mode of the nuptials, they are on their way to
complete, may seem to more highly organized beings, they drive with
headlong eagerness through torrent and foam, toward the shining
reaches and gravelly beds far up the river, where their ova are to be
deposited.” They stop for but a short time for rest in certain pools;
one of these resting places was directly in front of our tents. Two,
three, or more, could be taken from it in the morning; sometimes, not
always, in the evening; but assuredly the ensuing morning; and so on,
until the beginning of September.
When these fish return to “the ocean, that great receptacle of fishes,”
as Goldsmith styles it, is a problem not yet solved. Some think they
remain until winter, or spring. I incline to the opinion that they
go back to the sea in the fall soon after their procreative duty is
performed. It is well known that the _salmo fontinalis_ gives no care or
thought to its offspring; and evinces no love or affection for it after
it passes the embryotic or ova-otic stage; and that during that
stage their parental fondness is akin to that of the cannibal for the
conventional “fat missionary.” The voraciousness that prompts the
parent trout to eat all the eggs they can find as soon as deposited and
fertilized, would also prompt them to return to the estuaries so well
stocked with food suited to their taste and wants.
What becomes of the young fry during early _fishhood_ is another
problem. From the fact that no small trout are caught or seen in the
rivers, at the source and in the tributaries of which millions are
hatched, it is fair to assume that the young remain where they were
incubated until they attain age, size, and strength that enable them
to evade, if not defend themselves against, the attack of their many
enemies. When this time arrives, they doubtless accompany their parents,
or the parents of other troutlings (it is, indeed, a wise fish “that
knows its own father”—or mother), on their migration to the sea. During
our stay upon the stream I caught but two trout as small as one-fourth
of a pound, but one of six ounces, and few as small as half a pound. The
average size of our whole catch was one pound four ounces.
Since writing the foregoing, I have received from Dr. J. A. Henshall, an
answer to a letter that I addressed to him, before I began this article,
in which I asked him to give me the nomenclature of the sea trout of the
lower St. Lawrence, and also to inform me whether he thought these fish
anadromous brook trout.
I here record my thanks to the Doctor for his courteous compliance with
my request, and give a copy of so much of his letter as relates to the
fish under consideration, which, to my mind, settles the question of
the _status_ of the sea-trout of Canada.
“Cynthiana, Ky., Jan. 29, 1883.
“Dear Sir,—The so-called ‘sea-trout’ or ‘salmon-trout’ of the lower St.
Lawrence, is the brook trout (_S. fontinalis_), but having access to
the sea, becomes anadromous, and like all anadromous and marine fishes,
becomes of a silvery appearance, losing, somewhat, its characteristic
colors. The brook trout has a wide range (from northern Georgia to the
Arctic regions), and of course presents some geographical variations in
appearance, habits, etc...but does not vary in its specific relations.
Mr. ———” (naming an American author to whom I referred), “was wrong
in calling this fish _Salmo trutta, S. trutta_ is a European species;
and if he applied the name to the Canadian brook trout it is a misnomer.
I cannot say, not having read ————” (a work by said author mentioned
by me). “Trusting this may meet your wants, I am,
“Yours very sincerely,
“J. A. Henshall.
“P.S.—On next page please find nomenclature of the sea-trout of the
lower St. Lawrence.
“Canadian Sea-Trout.
“_Salvelinus fontinalis_, (Mitchell), Gill & Jordan.
“Synonomy.—_Salmo canadensis_, Ham. Smith, in Griffith’s Cuvier, x,
474, 1834. _Salmo immaculatus_, H. R. Storer, in _Bost, Jour. Nat.
Hist_., vi, 364, 1850.
“Vernacular Names.—Canadian brook trout, sea-trout, salmon trout,
unspotted salmon, white sea-trout, etc.
“Specific Description.—Body oblong or ovate, moderately compressed;
depth of body one-fourth to one-fifth of length; back broad and rounded.
“Head large, not very long, sloping symmetrically above and below; head
contained four or five times in length of body. Nostrils double; vomer
boat-shaped; jaws with minute teeth; no teeth on hyoid bone; mouth
large, the maxillary reaching to the eye; eye large.
“Scales very small, in two hundred and twenty-five transverse rows;
caudal fin slightly lunate in adult, forked in young; adipose fin small.
“Fin rays: D. 10; A. 9; P. 13; V. 8; C. 19.
“Color: back mottled with dark markings; sides lighter; belly silvery
white; red and yellow spots on body, mostly on sides.
“Coloration often plain and silvery in sea-run individuals.”
The so-called “sea-trout” of Long Island, as stated by Mr. Charles
Hallock, in his “Fishing Tourist,” and of certain streams in
Connecticut, as mentioned by Mr. W. C. Prime in “I go a-Fishing,” are
genuine brook trout. Although they have access to the salt water, and go
there for food—and hence are fat and delicious in flavor—they _are
not anadromous brook trout_. They do not “pass from the sea into fresh
waters, at _stated seasons_” (Webster’s Dic.). They are caught at all
times from February or March until the following autumn in fresh water,
and, as Hallock expresses it, “they run in and out with the tide.”
When this article was commenced it was my intention to write not only of
the sea-trout, but to give an account of our excursion in 1874; and in
doing so to speak of the events of each day succeeding those of which
I have written. It has already exceeded in length the measure that was
fixed upon, hence I can give the reader only a casual glance at us as we
proceed to our destination; and a look now and then into our camp.
I left our party—breakfast over—at the Sault au Cochon, at about eight
A. M. of August 4th. Soon thereafter we set sail and made such progress
that a few hours brought us to the mouth of our river. It was low tide
when we reached it—low tide means something here, as the tide has a
rise and fall of fifteen feet—and hence the anchor was dropped near the
river’s mouth, canoes launched, our personal baggage transferred to our
respective canoes—Macdonough’s was named _Commodore_, in honor of his
father, who made an imperishable name on Lake Champlain in the war
of 1812, and mine _La Dame_, in honor of some one who lived in my
imagination; I never met her elsewhere. In the third canoe were placed
the tents, camp utensils, and stores for twenty-four hours. When all was
in readiness I lighted my pipe, seated myself on the bottom of my
canoe, leaned back against one of the _bords_ or cross bars; then David,
sitting upon the V formed by the sides of the canoe at the stern, with
paddle in hand, sent the birch bark flying up our river. Like most
Canadian trout streams it consists of a series of still, deep pools, and
swift, rocky rapids, alternating. Often the rapids have a fall of one
foot in ten, and are from one to five, and sometimes ten or more rods in
length. It is marvellous how these canoeists will force a loaded canoe
up them. In doing so they stand near the back end and use a long,
iron-pointed “setting pole.” Before sunset we reached our camping place,
five or six miles from the St. Lawrence. The guides built a fire to
dispel the mosquitoes, which were fearfully numerous and bloodthirsty,
and then set about pitching our tents. M. and I lighted cigars, put our
rods together, and in ten minutes’ time had taken from the pool in front
of us, each two trout, weighing from one pound two, to one pound eight
ounces each. Having caught enough for dinner we busied ourselves in
arranging our tents, preparing our beds, etc. My journal for the day
ends with the following brief entry: Nine P.M.—We are now settled in
camp, have eaten a good dinner, smoked our cigars, and are going to bed.