craft," who will enjoy a day with the gudgeon equally with one in pursuit of the mighty salmon; still I give it for what it is, i.e., the opinion of an humble individual, who is possibly misguided in taste, and ignorant of the art of angling proper. However, be this as it may, excepting salmon and trout, a good day's pike fishing is hard to beat. This means a day when the fish are greedy for the bait, and each one game for a good run. Such a day was the one I am now going to describe. They only happen now and again in a lifetime, and each is all the more sweet because, when it does happen, it usually comes unexpected.

To a line one morning from A., a cousin of mine, intimating that he had an invitation for me to join him for a day's fishing in a piece of private water, renowned alike for the size and sportive qualities of the pike it contained, an answer of joyful acceptance went by return of post. It was arranged that I should go down to his place the night before the fray, in order that we might drive over together to the scene of action, some six or seven miles distant. When the time arrived this programme was duly carried out. I recollect well it was a stormy night-the last one of January; the wind whistled round the projecting gables of the old house with that uncanny noise which makes one glad to be indoors, beside a good blazing fire. With our postprandial cigar we discussed the prospects of the morrow; and after chatting over past excursions, successful and otherwise, in which we had been companions, we separated for the night. Not being particularly early risers, it was fully ten o'clock next morning before we were settled in the trap with the attendant, who had the care of our rods and tackle. A large can, which contained about forty lively roach and dace, such as those with which these lusty pike are wont to appease their hunger, was a prominent feature in our equipment. Half an hour's drive through narrow tortuous lanes, uninteresting at this season, when all trees and hedges are denuded of their summer verdure, brought us to a large undulating, handsomelytimbered park, in which through the trees we got a distant peep of a grand sheet of water. To the house, however, we had first to go, in order to pay our respects to the host and hostess, who, in our day, have included an invitation to lunch. Having received kindly greetings and good wishes for sport, we pass through the hall-in which our host points out a cast of a magnificent pike, painted lifelike by Rolfe, which was taken in the lake some few years back-and wend our way to the water's edge. It was certainly a fishy-looking piece of water, and, as we rowed the punt out to the centre, a disturbance of the small fry every now and again seemed to indicate that some few pike at all events were suffering from the pangs of hunger. Having anchored the boat at a favourable spot, rods and lines were quickly put together; and when a couple of

tempters in the forms of a lively dace and a nice fat roach, with a triangle fixed in the back of each-had been deftly hurled from either side, we took our seats and awaited events. I may here pause to remark that, so far as the elements were concerned, nothing unfavourable could be detected. The night's gale had settled down into a good westerly breeze, which gave just enough ripple to deceive the eyes of intended victims. A. called my attention to a flock of wild duck which were circling round, disturbed from the further end by our intrusion, and we had been watching them gradually depart from sight, when, on bringing back our gaze from aërial flights, we noticed that A.'s float was nowhere to be seen; a sharp upward stroke, and he was playing the first fish. This, before coming to the net, gave some few minutes of capital play; but, as he was scarcely up to the 5 lb. standard, the fish was gently replaced in the lake. Before another bait could be fixed up, my float suddenly went under, only to appear again before a strike could be effected. The next minute, however, down it went again, with the result that a pretty little fish of 3 lb. was netted and quickly returned. For the next hour we kept our attendant busy with the net, for no sooner did a fresh bait touch the water, than it seemed literally to drop into the jaws of a pike ready for a meal. Already ten had found their way into the boat as many more escaping. Two only were retained; their weights between 6 and 7 lb. each, and they were kept alive in the well. A short time only remained before the luncheon hour, and we moved to deeper water close to the island. Here an interval of inaction came, and we began to regret having moved from the former position; but the interval happily was brief, for both floats soon simultaneously disappeared; a huge plunge at A.'s bait denoting that a larger pike than his predecessors had snapped a pair of jaws upon its prey. For fully ten minutes our hands were busy with the reel, when my fish showed signs of exhaustion, and a bright plump fish of 7 lb. joined his companions in the well. A. did not so easily bring his fish to book; twice he got under the boat, dangerously near the anchor chain, and finally he succumbed, after a hard fight of fully twenty minutes, and proved to be a fine specimen of 16 lb. The bell now sounded to summon us to the midday meal, and we pulled to land, quite ready to refresh the inner man, yet we did so somewhat reluctantly, since the fish appeared equally ready to feed with ourselves. A most enjoyable break it proved. In addition to the kind hospitality of the table, a treat was in store by way of an inspection of the art treasures which the house contains. Gorgeous pieces of ancient tapestry adorn the hall, corridors, and lofty rooms, with original Adams' ceilings, the colours in many so bright and fresh that one naturally wonders whether they could have been made so long ago. On inquiry we find VOL. LIII.-NO. 360.

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that every piece has been in the family for two or three generations, some only recently unearthed from within the old chests where they had been carefully stored for years. The pictures, too, must not be passed without comment. Sport in almost every branch is here depicted, and one could see at a glance, from the pink attire in the numerous portraits, that members of the family were, and had for long been, followers of the "chase." Famous, too, they must have been, for have not two portraits, with biographical notices attached to themsetting forth how well were the positions of M.F.H. filledappeared within the green covers of this magazine? All good things have an ending, and we find an hour has too quickly passed before we resume, with rod in hand, our neglected sport. Be not afraid that I shall weary you with further description; it will be sufficient to say that the fish were not a whit less voracious than before, and we totalled at the finish, after four hours' fishing, twenty-six lusty pike, their weights varying from 16 to 3lb. We retained only the one above mentioned, together with three other good specimens of 11, 10, and 71b. respectively. Larger fish in lakes and ponds are, of course, constantly taken, but I venture to assert that scarcely, if ever, does one find, even in well-stocked preserves, so many fish eager for the lure. The way those fish played, too, was quite exceptional, never giving up so long as there was a kick left; and we both agreed on our homeward journey that we had not enjoyed such a day's pike fishing before. Quae meliora vis?

The American Buffalo.

Its Past and Future.

WITH the disappearance of the buffalo as a wild denizen of the prairies, much of the romance and charm of the West has gone. For centuries this noble beast had been regarded as the representative of the chief characteristics of the great country within which he had been developed. By the principle of the survival of the fittest, he had become what he was: and against all his natural foes he was able to maintain his ground. The too richly-endowed paleface came in, however, to sweep him rudely from the scene. No part of the haunts which had known him so long remained sacred to an intruder, before whose blind insatiable attacks succumbed the noblest beast of chase which

the whole American continent possessed. Even his name (which is all that remains of him in a territory wherein he was

so long supreme) cannot now be said to be really his. If the classification of the men of science is to be respected, "bison" he should be called. But "buffalo" was the term applied to him by the hunters and traders, who first became aware of his existence; and with this appellation his memory will be associated through all time.

The horrible record of his destruction is still to be read upon the prairies of the West in the bleaching skeletons with which they were once thickly strewed. But even these sad monuments are being removed, for they are being collected (huddled together promiscuously with other bones) and sent by the car-load to be carried east, and made the basis of artificial fertilisers. It is estimated that in one winter 100,000 head of buffaloes were slaughtered along the line of the Union and Kansas Pacific Railroad. This wholesale destruction is, now that it is too late, universally deplored. And the story remains as terrible evidence of human cruelty and short-sighted folly, when under the influence of insatiable greed.

But the object of this paper is not to sound the dirge of a vanished race; it is rather to proclaim a new destiny which seems to be in store for this peerless species. Out of its ashes it seems probable that the buffalo may arise into a position hardly less unique than that which its ancestors held so long. By the help of its destroyer it may run a career such as, only a year or two ago, none of its friends and admirers (and it has always had both) could ever have dreamed of as possible.

There are now, as has been said, practically no buffalo to be found in a wild state. Occasionally one reads accounts of a small herd having been seen in some out-of-the-way localities; but these reports are invariably found to be erroneous, much to the regret of the investigator. There are a few buffalo preserved in a semi-feral condition in the Yellowstone National Park; and most of the Zoological Gardens all over the world still contain a specimen or two. It is curious that the Red Indians never seem to have been able to domesticate this animal; and for many years it was supposed that it would resist every effort in that direction. But in fact it is now known that the buffalo is really most amenable to the domesticating will of the white man; and the subjugation of this species is man's latest encroachment into the domain of Nature. And, however incredible it may seem, the buffalo becomes as gentle and as appreciative of man's protective care as do any of the races bovine. In fact, from the accounts we have of them in this connection, they appear to be more domesticable than are what are called the wild cattle of Britain, or their European representatives preserved by the Czar of Russia, the aurochs of the Lithuanian forests, the bos priscus of science. It is with this aspect of the subject, i.e., the results which may follow from the removal of the buffalo from a state of freedom to

the condition of ordinary cattle, that this article will practically deal.

During recent years there appears to have always been one or two persons more thoughtful than their fellows, who became interested in the fate of the only indigenous American Bos. These seem to have exerted themselves for its preservation. Accounts of the more notable attempts have, once in a while, leaked out; and occasional articles have appeared in the American papers, giving particulars of them. As we have been somewhat instrumental in obtaining authentic narratives of these attempts, and as we possess information of an interesting and valuable kind-from these pioneers themselves-we propose to give a selection therefrom for the benefit of the readers of BAILY'S MAGAZINE. The material collected presents some rather novel features, that will demonstrate the claims of our subject to attentive consideration; and, if we present it in a somewhat digressive manner, the civilised reader must excuse the blunted literary perspicuity of the 'cow-boy" of the

Western States.

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There are two men whose names have become identified with this endeavour to resuscitate an interest in the buffalo; its name having, indeed, been added to theirs as a familiarising sobriquet. Everyone has heard of "Buffalo Bill," but comparatively few of the general public have heard of "Buffalo Jones." Yet whereas the former may be looked upon more as the representative of the destroyers of the bison, the latter must, and will, be regarded as its veritable preserver. Buffalo Bill may be regarded as carrying on the traditions of the grand period of romance and chivalry connected with the American chase. Buffalo Jones should be held in mind as having been the man to initiate the enterprise of introducing the wild prairie monarch to the practical uses of civilisation. The destroyer and the preserver -which should be regarded as the greater benefactor? Buffalo Bill regarded the shaggy animals as only fair prey for his rifle, and (in the days of their countless hordes) as the objects of sport of the highest possible kind; one calling for skill, precision, and endurance in those who engaged in it, and affording the necessary excitement; in fact, he looked upon the buffalo as affording material, in these degenerate times, for a latter-day Roman holiday; and sought to amuse the descendants of our ancient barbarian forefathers by introducing them to the bull-fight of the prairie. This was, in those days, and those not very remote either, the status of the buffalo; but a different career has been opened for him by Buffalo Jones. His aim on the animal's behalf is to make it the producer in the highest possible perfection of a coveted article of winter dress for the fairest companions of the sterner sex-and for them also-in those regions where most Arctic or Siberian severity prevails for a large proportion of the year. Buffalo Bill (with a halo of Western romance about him)