TROUTING IN NEW ZEALAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 1688, 29 March 1884, Page 27

TROUTING IN NEW ZEALAND.

A short time ago I sent you a photograph of some trout that I caught ono evening last year, in order td.giye you au idea of the sport to be Ka'd hi this country. A little later I went with a couple of friends on a fishing expedition to the Lee stream. We took the train from Dunedin to a place called Moegiel, drove to Outram, then had to walk on to our camping ground some five or six miles up a terribly steep hill. As we were carrying all our belongings, including tent, opossum rugd, cooking utensils, gun, rods, and photographic apparatus, this hill did not appear ' any the less trying. We next struck off • the track down a sharp gully through tho thick bush, and I know not which was the worst, going up the hill with a heavy swag on the back under a sweltering sun, or going down nri'B3irig one's step, and getting much shaken, the swag meanwhile catching in the branches of the , closely-woven trees. At length, very tired, we got to our camping place, and lay ex hauatgd on the ground for a short time. The e'yening was drawing on, fast and we could see ' tfie 'trout- rising hi, the stream. The first-law pn/occasip.nsof this kind is to secure your camp ancTpitcti the tent. Away therefore we went, tearing^ off the, small branches of the ti-tri or m'amjka' scrub, a close-growing shrub, almost heathery in its consistency, with a fragrant resinous scent. This we packed in a scientific marine?! overlapping each, row, so that the bard twigs, - which might otherwise prove uncomfortable, ' wera covered with the bushy softer parts'. The branches were laid on the ground to a depth of about two feet inside the tent, and over this we wore our rugs. I never slept on a better i spring mattress. By the time we bad finished bedmaking it was top dark for trout/ but we had some eel fishing, the modus ■Sperandi being to get some of the native flax (Phormium tenax), split the leaves down to xnake^ a strong line, tie one end to a stout pole, and a piece of meat on tho other. As Boon as the eel got hold of the bait it was necessary to throw him on the bank and catch . hjm 'before he got in again. In this way we ■ soon secured some half-dozen nice eels, weight from" 21b to t 4lb or 61b. They grow to an enormous size here, and I have heard of them 301b "in weight. The largest I have caught myself and weighod was 161b. 'We woke at daylight next morning to find it pouring wet. The stream had risen several inches, and was as thick as peasoup. Fishing was quite useless. I did try but to no purpose. One of the party, a very clever amateur photographer, took two views, one of the camp aud the other of the river,' with the tent in the background. We had been disturbed during $he night by wild pigs,' and just' above tho burjh the land was Bwarming with that pest of the country, rabbits. We went off with the gun to gej; dinner, and soon had enough rabbits and patijre birds to make a capital stew. In the

afternoon, there being no sign of the weather clearing up, wo struck camp and returned to Outram, and back to Dunedin by tho early morning train. While in Dunedin my friend Capt. W., of tho ship Dunedin, asked me to get some trout that, he might ta-ke home frozen in his refrigerating apparatus, but the weather was not suitable. However, the ship Dunedin is out hero again for a fresh cargo of frozen mutton, and Capfc. W. has kindly offered to take home frozen trout for ma. I drove accordingly to the ICakanui river. The season opened on the first of October, a little too early I think, as tho iish are very sluggish, aud not in good condition ; they do not take freely while the snowwater is coming down. Tho first thing was to catch minnows. Having got a supply we worked up a nice gravelly but rather open river, with a succpssion of deep holes and long shallows, but with very little shelter on the banks ; thero is not a bush or troe for miles, and the water is as clear as crystal. There waa no wind to make a ripple, but we could seethe small fish, of about to 21b, rising freely in the smooth water. They would not, however, be coaxed, and I feared that I should have to go home empty-handed. Then I reached a nice hole under a high cliff, with strong stream coming round a bend, making a great splash and swirl. Hera ono evening last year, at the first cast, I struck and missed a largo fish ; with the second 1 struck and got fast into one which I killed after an hour and a half's play ; id turned the scale at 131b 4oz. Having landed this fish, with tho very next cast I caught an 8-pounder. So I approached this hole with hopes. Casting nicely up into the rapids I worked the minnow down ; no result. Next I cast a little further over and let if, down into the eddy gently. I fancied that I was foul of a rock, but the impediment suddenly gave two or three tugs that made my heart jump into my mouth. The fish bolted off down stream. Whirr, whirr went the reel. Up stream again, and then a sulk. A loud coo-ec brought up my friend with the gaff. A little patience, and then I got the trout into shallow water where he soon tired, and when we got home she was just 91b 7oz. Tbatwas all my luck that evening. Driving home it struck mo that, as Francis Fiancia sent out our original stock of trout to Tasmania, why should I not send him this one, a descendant of the ova about which he took so much trouble many years ago ? Although not in very good condition it is a good specimen, and I hope will prove nono the worse for its long jonrney of 14,00 d miles ; 1 hope that it may arrive safely. , Between October 11 and November 1 this year I have caught ten nice fish, weighing in all 7-llb, the hoaviest 14lb and the lightest l£lb. A curious incident occurred one evening while fishing with a friend. He struck a big fish at the top of a largo hole. It bolted to another hole about a hundred yards lower down, taking out all the line. He not being able to get down fast enough, the line broke at the reel. Ho was, however, fortunate enough to catch the broken _cad as it went through the rings, and, getting in a little slack, joined it again. On going to his assistance I fond him in despair. Sudhe, " After mending my line, and getting in the slack, I saw the fish jump out there, and he has got the line round a rock or stump, aud I cannot get loose." Sure enough it was fast and firm, not a move in it. Said I, " Something must break ; we can't stop here all day." So I put a strain on, meaning to break away, when, to our joy, the obstruction bolted off down stream, and turned out to be a fine trout, which, after half an hour's more fun, succumbed, and weighed a little over 141b. It was fortunate that it sulked just as the lino broke. lam anxious to know what* would be the probable market value of trout such as the one I am sending to you, landed in London, in good condition, frozen, during the months of December, January, and February. The frozen mutton is turning out a great success, and is proving an immense benefit to us, and I think that frozen trout might also prove successful, and that a new industry might be created by rearing trout in special ponds and sending them home for sale at a time when trout and salmon are out of season. If it could be shown that an industry of this kind would be financially successful, and a means of bringing revenue to the country, our legislators might b8 induced to look with more favour on our attempts at preserving the fish, and might be more energetic in helping us to deal with the poaching that is too prevalent. Kakanui. Otago, N. Z. [We have received the photographs, and return many thanks ; but the trout has not yet arrived.— En. J— Field, Jan. 19. BULWER'S LOVE AFFAIRS. The recently- published autobiography of E. Bulwer-Ly tton furnishes some interesting facts about that peculiar character. Before leaving Cambridge he ha ! enriched his experience wifch some vacation adventures, including an encounter with a highwayman, a night in a lonely cottage where au attempt was made to murder him, and An Amour with a Pretty Young Gipsy, in whose camp he spent five or six days of romantic dalliance. " One morning she was unusually silent and reserved. I asked her, reproachfully, why she was so cold. " ' Tell me,' she said, abruptly, ' tell me truly, do you love me ?' ""I do indeed.' And so I thought. " ' Will you marry me, then ?' " * Marry you V I cried, aghast. ' Marry ? alas ! I would not deceive you — that 18 impossible.' " ' I don't mean,' she cried, impetuously, but not seemingly hurt at my refusal; 'I don't mean as you mean — marriage according to your fashion ; I never thought of that ; but marry me as we marry.' '" How is that?' " ' You will break a piece of burnt earth with me — a tile, for iustance — into two halves.' "'Well?' ' " 'In grandmother's presence. That will be marriage. It lasts only five years. It is not long,' she said, pleadingly. ' And if you want to leave mo before, how could I stay you ?' " Poor, dear child— for child, after all, she was in yeais and in mind— how charming she looked then ? Alas ! I went farther for a wife and fared worse." The Caroline Lamb Episode. His next adventure, of which the heroine was the celebrated Lady Caroline Lamb (wife of the William Lamb who became Lord Melbourne) is strictly historical. Lady Caroline, who is described by Lord Lytton as "amusing, impulsive, capriciously kind-hearted, and soinetimen not quite sane in the excitement of her ardent attachments, had outlived her notorious passion for Lord Byron several yeara, and had not quite reached the point of separation from her husband when s>he fell in love with Bulwsr, who was eighteen year 3 younger than tieraelf. " Lady Caroline Lamb was then between thirty and torty [she was thirty-nine and Bulwer was twenty-one. — El}.], but looked much younger than she was ; thanks, perhaps, to a slight, rounded figure and a childish modfi of wearing her hair (which was of a pale golden *

colour) in close curls. She had largo hazel eyjs, capable of much varied expression, exceedingly good teeth, a pleasant laugh, and a musical intonation of voice, despite a certain artificial di'Av/1, habitual to what was callod the Devonshire House set. Apart from these gifts, she might bo considered plain. But she had, to a surpassing degree, the attribute of charm, and never failed to please if she chose to do so. Her powers of conversation were remarkable. In one of Lord Byron's letters to her, which she showed me, he said : ' You are the only woman I know who never bored me.' " There was, indeed, a wild originality in her talk, combining great and sudden contrasts, from deep pathos to infantine drollery— now sentimental, now bhrewd. It sparkled with anecdotes of the great world, aud of tho eminent persons with whom she had been brought up, or been familiarly intimate ; and, ten minutes after, it became gravely eloquent with religious eulhusiasm, or shot off into metaphysical speculations — sometimes absurd, sometimes profound — generally suggestive and interesting. A creature of caprico and impulse and whim, her manner, her talk, and herj character shifted their colours as rapidly as those of a chameleon. She has sent her page, the round of her guests at three o'clock in the morning with a message that sho was playing the organ that stood on the staircase at Brocket, and begged the favour of their company to hear her. Strange to say, it was a summons generally obeyed, and those who obeyed did not regret the loss of their sleep ; for when tho audience had assembled she soon relinquished the solemn keys of the organ and her talk would be so brilliant and amusing that the dawn found one still listening, spellbound, without a thought of bed. " She interested me chiefly, however, by her recollections and graphic descriptions of Byron ; with whom her intimacy had lasted during the three moat brilliant . ears of his life in England, and whom, whan they had fiercely quarrelled, she had depicted in a wild romance, ' Glenarvon," as a beautiful monster — half demon and yet demi-god. He never forgavo it, though he ought to have been flattered, for it lepresented him very much as, during tho zenith of his social fashion, he had wished the female part of tho world to believe him. At the time I now speak of thero was no bitterness in her talk of him, and, whatever faults she found in his character, she fired up in his defence if anyone else abused him." One day, on arriving at Brocket, Bulwer found that he had been supplanted by a Mr Russell, a natural son of the Duke of Bedford. The conclusion is told in a letter to an intimate friend : " I said to her, when we were all going to bed, 'I go to-morrow before you are up Goodby.' She sent to my room a short noto about nine o'clock next morning, imploring mo not to go till I had seen her. I went to her room. She entreated mo to forgive her, threw her arms about me and cried. Of course she persuaded me to stay. We rode out. R. went wilh us. Although she certainly did not try to make mo jealous, I soon saw that she felt for him that love of the imagination which she had felt before for me. She' could not help liking me still in an affectionate way ; but he was the idol of the moment. L was miserable. I left her before sh/i got home aud repaired to my room. You know my stormy paroxysms when lam violently affected. 1 waa in one of these when she came into my room. She implored me not to give way to my passions, and not to bo deceived. I said to her, ' 1 will believe you, and be happy, if you will only say that I have no reason to be jealous of Mr R, Say this, and I will never again insult you by doing so. Sho would not answer me. She said that she had known Mr R. for a very long time, and had once folt a love for him, but not tho sort of love she felt for me. I was, she said, in all respects more worthy of her affections. I went down stairs. Russell sat opposite me. He wore a ring. It was ono which Lord Byron had given Lady Carolineone which was only to be worn by those she loved. I had often worn it myself. She had wanted me to accept it, but I would not, because it was so costly. And how he woie it. Can you conceive my resentment, my wretchedness ? After dinner I threw myself upon tho sofa. Musia was playing. Lady Caroline came to me. ' Are you mad ? ' said she. 1 looked up. Tho tears stood in my eyes. I could not have spoken a word for the world. What do you think she said aloud? 'Don't play this melancholy air — it affects Mv Bulwer so that he is actually weeping. '& My tears, my softness, my love, were over in a momont. I sprang up, laughed, talked, and was the life of the company. But when we broke up for tho evening, I went to her and said : ' Farewell forever. It is over. Now I see you in your true light. Vain and heartless, you have only trifled with my feelings in order to betray me. I despise a3 well aB leave you. Instead of jealousy, I only feel contempt. Farewell. Go, and be happy. I left Brocket the next morning very early, was here the same night, and in a fever the next ; lost twenty ounces of blood ; but have taken your advice, and am endeavouring to forget what 1 have no wish to remember."

He did not forget the affair. He used it as literary material. Lady Caroline appears in three of his hitherto unpublished fictions, and tlie circumstances of their parting, as well as the incident (an accident at a race) which led to their acquaintance, are told in one of these stories with minute exactness. There is a reference to the husband at the close of the letter just cited : "Lamb, by-the-bye, was particularly kind to me. I think he saw my feelings. He ia a singularly fine character for a man of the world." — San Francisco Bulletin.