Forgotten Treasures #16: FISHING IN ELK RIVER--PART 1

FISHING IN ELK RIVER

PART 2
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"Yere's your crazy man, stranger," said Tim, in slow, drawling tone, "I
tell you he kin jest p'intedly foot it. Thar hain't been such a run in
Kanoy County sence they stopped 'lectin' country fellers fer sheriff. I
reckon 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, and
curled up like a yellow-jacket interested with an enemy.

"Let him go," said the laughing Doctor. "He will stay with me now. He is
not dangerous when I am about. Set him on his feet."

No sooner was the Professor deposited on the pavement that he dealt Tim a
stinging blow which staggered him, and stood ready with trained muscles set
for defence.

"Look yere, leetle un," said Tim, coolly and with great self-restraint,
"'tain't fer the likes us me to hit you, bein's you're a bit out in your
top, 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 the latter's
possession of the camera the Professor scented a joke, and at once 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 his fun, he will now pay
the bill at the bar for all of you: he pays all my expenses: so walk in
gentlemen."

The laws of hospitality west of the Alleghanies do not permit any one to
decline an invitation, so the Doctor settled for the whole procession and
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 a punkin an'
red ez a flannel shirt an' bald ez a land-tortle, an' t'other ez brown ez a
mud-catty an' poor ez a razorback hog, tell 'em I'm yere to pilot 'em up Elk
to Colonel Bangem's caliker tents. He said they were ez green ez frogs, an'
didn't know nothin' noway, an' fer me to take keer uv 'em. He don't reckon
they'll come tell to-morrow. One uv 'em's a hoss-doctor, an' t'other's a
perfesser uv religion, Colonel Bangem telled me. I dunno whether the
feller's a circuit-rider er a rale preacher."

"That's the highly-illuminated pumpkin, my good man," said the Professor,
pointing to the Doctor, "and I am Colonel Bangem's spiritual adviser. 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 these parts?
Right smart town we've got yere, hain't it? I'll take keer uv you. There
hain't no man on Elk River kin take keer uv you better nor Tim Price, ary
time. I hain't much up to moon men, though. Thar's one feller up my way
thet gits kinder skeery at the full uv the moon; but I hain't never tended
him. I reckon I kin l'arn the job,--ez the ole boy said when his marm set
him to mindin' fleas off the cat."

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

"I footed it over the mountains, and sent my boat the river way. Hit
oughter be yere now: so we'll pack up 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 them off,
and they were soon down the Kanawha and into the mouth of the Elk at the
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-legged children and idlers of
the water-side, push-boats loaded to the edge of the narrow gunwales with
merchandise for delivery to stores and dwellers far up the river, boats
loaded with hoop-poles, grist, chickens, and the "home-plunder" of some
mover to civilization, coming down the river from the mountain-clearing, and
samples of every conceivable kind of the river's outpour, were tied to the
banks or lazily floating on the currentless back-water from the Kanawha.

An old steamboat-captain once said of Elk that "it was the all-firedest
river God ever make,--fer it rises at both ends and runs both ways to
wunst." This is true, and is caused by the Kanawha, when rising, pouring
its water into the mouth of Elk and reversing it current for many miles,
while at the same time rain falls in the mountains, increasing the latter
river's depth and velocity. Flour-mills, iron-foundries, saw-mills,
woollen-mills, and barrel-factories extend their long wooden slides down to
the river's edge, to gather material for their consumption. A railroad
spans it with an iron trussed bridge, and the demands of wagon and
foot-travel are met by an airy one suspended by cables from tower-like
abutments on either side, both bridges swung high in the air, out of reach
of flood and of the smoke-stacks of passing steam craft.

A mile from the river's mouth, and just beyond the limits of Charleston, is
one of the fines sandstone-quarries in the world. The United States
government monopolizes most of its product in the construction of the
magnificent lock and shifting dams in course of erection on the Kanawha to
facilitate the transportation of coal from the immense deposits now being
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 wild swirl
and rush of water; for through a cut gap in its centre Elk flows
unobstructed,--a penniless mob having made the opening one night that their
canoes might pass free and capitalists be encouraged to remove such
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 a distance of
fourteen miles, to Jarrett's ford, making a halting-place for rafts and
logs, barges and gloats, coming down from the vast forests above when rains
and snow-thaws raised the river and its tributaries; but now a long stretch
of boom catches what it can of Ilk's commerce and is a chartered parasite
upon it.

Here at the old dam the mountains close in tightly upon the narrow valley.
Log cabins and a few simple frame houses nestle upon diminutive farms; the
wild beauty of shoal and eddy, bouldered channel and lake-like stretches of
pool, rock walls and timber-clad peaks, begins to charm the stranger and
draw him on and on through scenery as attractive as grand toss of mountains
and delve of river can make it.

By dint of poling, pushing, rowing, and pulling, the boats were worked over
rapids and pools for almost a score of miles, to where the last rays of the
sun slid over a mountain-point and hit Colonel Bangem's hat as it spun in
the air by way of welcome, while the prows clove the water of a lovely eddy
lying in front of his camp. The meeting was that of old friends, with the
addition of a blush from Bess Bangem and its bright reflection from the
Professor's face.

Tim Price took the colonel to one side mysteriously, and whispered, "I took
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 the river,"
was the colonel's sober reply.

Scientists nowadays set up Energy as the ancestor of everything, measure the
value of its descendants by the quantity they possess of the family trait,
and spend their time in showing how to utilize it for the good of mankind in
general. Professor Yarren was an apostle of Energy: it absorbed 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 of chemical disembodiment to
opening an oyster, he calculated, advises, and dilated upon it. He himself,
was the epitome of Energy: in his size he economized space, in his diet he
ate for power, not quantity. To him eating and sleeping were Energy's
warehousemen; idleness was dry-rot, moth, and mildew; laughing, talking,
whistling, singing, somersets, and fishing, never-to-be-neglected and
in-constant-use safety-valves. He regarded himself as an assimilator of
everything that went into him, be it food, sight, sound, or scent, and his
perfection as such in exact ratio to the product he derived from them. So
when next morning he said "Come on" to the Doctor, and Colonel Bangem, Mrs.
Colonel Bangem, Bess Bangem, and Martha, the mountain-maid, who were all
standing in front of the camp rigged for a day's fishing, he meant that one
of Energy's safety-valves was ready to blow off, and that further delay
might be dangerous 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 and everything
ready for it: therefore at the Professor's "Come on" he calmly sat down on a
log, filled his pipe, leisurely lighted it, and good-humoredly remarked, "I
am confident that one-half of what we call life is spent in undoing what we
have done, in lamenting the lack of what we have forgotten, or going back
after it: therefor I make it a rule when everything seems ready for a
start--especially when going fishing--to sit five minutes in calm communion
with my pipe, thinking matters over. It insures against much discomfort
from treacherous memories and neglect."

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

A motley little fleet awaited the party at the water's edge,--square-ended,
flat -bottomed punts, sharp-bowed bateaux, long, graceful, dug-out canoes,
and a commodious push-boat, with cabin and awning, whose motive power was
poles. Elk River craft are as abundant as the log cabins on its banks, and
their pilots are as numerous as the inhabitants. Neither sex nor size is a
disqualification, for, excepting the trifling matter of being web-toed, all
are provided from birth with water-going properties, and, be it seed-time or
harvest, the river has the first claim upon them for all its varied sports
and occupations. A shot at mallard, black-head, butter-duck, loon, wild
goose, or blue-winged teal, as they follow the river's winds northward in
the spring-time, will stop the ploughs furrowing its fertile bottoms as far
as its echoes roll around the mountain-juts, and cause the hands that held
the lines to grasp old-fashioned rifles for a chance at the winged passers.
When, later, woodcock seek its margins, gray snipe, kill-deer, mud-hens, and
plovers its narrow fens, the scythe will rest in the half-mown field while
its wielder "takes a crack at 'em." And when autumn brings thousands of
gray squirrels, flocks of wild pigeon and waterfowl to fee on its mast, no
household obligation or out-door profit 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 rivers
will be scarred; her trout-streams, carp-runs, bass-pools, salmon-swirls,
deer-;licks, bear-dens, partridge-nestles, and pheasant-covers will be
overrun by sports-men, her magnificent mountains will be scratched
bald-headed by lumbermen, her laughing tributaries will be saddened with
say-dust, and her queer, quaint, original boat-pullers and "seng-diggers"
will wear shoes in summer-time and coats in winter, weather-board their log
cabins, put glass in the windows and partitions across the one room inside.
Woods-meetings will creep into churches, square sousing in the river will
degenerate to the gently baptismal sprinkle; no picnics or barbecues will
delight the inhabitants with flying horses and fights, open fireplaces and
sparking-benches will give way to stoves and chairs, riding double on
horseback, with fair arms not afraid to hold tight against all dangers real
or fancied, will be 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 be
out-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 properly among the boats. "But, in spite 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 the swirl of the oar, and as near
the surface of the water as possible. You know you will talk and forget all
about it. Now we will start. If we get separated and it grows cloudy,
change your trolls for three-inch 'fairy minnows;" and if the wind ripples
the water, let out from sixty to eighty feet of line. Take the centre of
the river, and you haul in salmon; for bass will not rise to a troll in the
eddies when the water is rough. Salmon will. Tim, take the lead with the
Professor, that the other men may see your stroke and course. In trolling,
the oarsman has as much to do with the success as the fisherman.


Off they went, three to a boat, the fishers seated in bow and stern, the
ladies in front with their fishing-poles, and the oarsman in his proper
place, rowing a slow, steady stroke, dipping true and silently just fifty
feet from bank, or sedge, or shelf of rock, steering outside of snags and
drift and where overhanging trees buried their shadows in the water.

The boats had hardly reached their positions--two on each side of the
stream--when a shout from the Professor announced a catch, as hand over hand
he cautiously drew in the swerving line or held it taut, as the diving fish
sought the rocky bottom or the friendly refuge of a log drift. With
unvarying stroke Tim kept his boat in deep water, away from entangling
dangers. There was a flash in the air and a jingle of the troll, as a fine
bass shot out of the water to shake the barbs from his open mouth; but the
hooks held firm, and the taut line foiled the effort to dislodge them. Down
came the fish with a splash, to dart for the goat at lightning speed and
leap again for life; but this time no jingle of troll announced his game.
He leaped ahead to fall upon the line and thus tear the hooks from their
hold. successful fishing depends upon two things,--the presence of fish and
knowing more than fish do. At the instant of the fish's leap the Professor
slackened his line: down came the bass on a limber loop, defeated in his
strategy and wearied by his effort, to be hauled quickly to the boat's side
and landed, wriggling and tossing, at Tim Price's feet.

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END PART 2

"Wolfgang" wrote in message
...
FISHING IN ELK RIVER



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END PART 2

Posting error. Should have been titled "Forgotten Treasures #16: FISHING IN
ELK RIVER--PART 2" and posted to a new thread.

Oh well.

Wolfgang