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.
And now for a few remarks upon the fish of the St. Lawrence generally.
Cod are taken to a very great extent, and constitute an important
article of commerce. Herring and mackerel are abundant, also the
hallibut and sardine. Shad are also taken, but not in sufficient
quantities to export. The lobster, flounder, and oyster are also found
in this river; and, with a few unimportant exceptions, these are the
only fish that flourish in this portion of the great river. The
sea-bass, the striped-bass, the blue-fish, and the black-fish, for which
I should suppose these waters perfectly adapted, are entirely unknown.