“Sit down on the bottom, sir.” The latter part of the sitting process 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.