As has been described in Ihc geo¬
graphical sketch, in this volume. West¬
ern North Carolina is a mountainous
expanse, measuring about 200 miles
•n length by an average breadth of
mountain plateau of 30 miles, yet in
all this area there is not one lake.
This seems a singular fact when con¬
trasted with what is known of the
waters of other mountain regions.
There is no lack of water, however,
in the Carolina mountains. It gushes
up from thousands of springs in every
valley, on every mountain slope and
summit; but nowhere does it find a
deep, wide basin in which to rest it¬
self before hurrying to the sea. There
are a few ponds in some of the val¬
leys, but they are small, and are all
artificial. Many are stocked with trout,
from which the owners' tables are
easily supplied. One of these ponds is
at Estes’ place near Blowing Rock.
Trout are, at intervals, bagged in the
brooks near by, and then freed in its
waters. The tourist can be paddled in
a boat over the clear surface, under
which the standing trunks of the
flooded trees are visible, and may be
fortunate enough to pull out a few
fish; but the fascination of killing the
game in the mountain torrents is
wholly lost.
Colonel Hampton, of Cashier's val¬
ley. has a well slocked trout pond
formed by the dammed up waters of
Cashier creek. A screen fastened into
the dam allows the escape of nothing
but the water. The spawn is deposited
high up the channels of the limpid
streams, which empty into this pond.
A fortune could be made in fish cul¬
ture in the Carolina mountains. The
valley of Jamestown, six miles cast of
Cashier’s valley, is admirably suited
for an enterprise of this kind. A lake
of six square miles could be formed
here by damming, at a narrow gorge,
a fork of Toxaway.
The headwaters of all the rivers may
be whipped with success for trout. An
exception to this general statement
must be made of the slow-flowing Little
Tennessee; the headwaters of its tribu¬
taries. however, teem with speckled
habitants. Those streams most widely
known as trout streams, while they,
in fact, afford fine sport, arc not to
be compared with many loud-roaring
little creeks, almost wholly unknown,
even by the deni/.ens of the vales into
which they descend. Let the angler
go to the loneliest solitudes, strike a
stream as it issues from the balsams;
and, following it to its mouth through
miles of laurel tangle, he will cover
himself with glory. It will be a well
filled basket which he carries; there¬
fore his wet clothes, his bruised body,
tired legs, and depleted box of lines
and flics left behind him on the
branches of the trees, ought not to
discourage him from trying it again.
For the angler of adventurous spirit
and fond of the picturesque, that
prong of the Toe river which flows
between the Black mountains and the
Blue Ridge, would be the stream for
him to explore. With its North fork,
this fork unites to form a wide and
beautiful river, which flows along the
line between Yancy and Mitchell coun¬
ties, and empties into the Nolechucky.
Its course is due north. Along its up¬
per reaches, for mile after mile, not
a clearing is to be seen; not a column
of smoke curls upward through the
trees, unless it be from the open fire
before the temporary shelter of a be¬
nighted cattle-herder, or a party of
bear-hunters; not an echo from the
cliffs of dog or man; only the sombre,
The Block Mountain Rongc,
Ь»
Ed DuPu». To
on *our
пек»
trip.
Into the Wil
of th<l
Our 1880 travJ
fishing trip in
Mitchell.
By 7.EIGLH
mossy woods, the rocks, crags and the
stream beside the primitive path; the
loud roar of rapids and cascades, or
the low murmur of impetuous waters,
sweeping under the rich drapery of the
vines. One is not only outside the pale
of civilized life, but is widely separated
from visible connections with hu¬
manity. Let him shout with all the
strength of his lungs, no one will hear
him or the deep, sepulchral echo that
comes up from the black-wooded de¬
files. A jay from out a wild cherry
may answer him, or an eagle, circling
high overhead, scream back as if in
defiance to the intruder.
Here are the trout. Every few yards
there are deep, clear pools, whose
dark-lined basins make the surface of
the waters perfect mirrors, strong and
clear; so that the handsome man, for
fear of the fate of Narcissus, would
better avoid leaning over them. Such
pools arc the haunts of trout of largest
size. They dwell in them as though
protected by title-deeds; and old fisher¬
men say that every trout clings to his
24
THE STATE. April 20. >957
