390 AMERICAN GAME FISHES. 



rubbing side by side until the female is ready to spawn. 

 They are careless fish — leaving the spawn to take care of 

 itself until the gentle undulations of the stream and the 

 warmth of the sun's rays produce the young fry. 



As soon as these are able to take care of themselves, they 

 show the family likeness, and begin their bold predacious 

 attacks on the fry of the silver chub and shiner family. They 

 are greedy feeders, and from the time they are the length of the 

 little finger, the Pickerel are looking for something nice to 

 eat. 



Years ago, ere the appliances for fishing had improved to 

 their present stage, I was fishing with a crude, jointed rod. 

 home-made — the rod a simple home-spun affair — and was 

 enjoying the sharp vicious strikes of Pickerel that were 

 abundant in the local waters, forgetting that my ancient 

 enemy, a pugnacious and well-developed ram, was in the 

 pasture lots. His butting propensities had caused a declara- 

 tion of war between us; boy like, I enjoyed many a bout 

 with him, but always had to cut and run, for he would chase 

 and butt at me untd my wind was exhausted. Being fleet of 

 foot I could outrun him every time. 



I was quietly casting across stream into some dog-tail 

 weeds, where we could always find Pickerel, when hearing the 

 familiar b-a-a-h-h! behind me, I turned, and there was my 

 enemy, head up and "sniffing the battle afar of!." I had just 

 been congratulating myself that I was safe, shaking my fist 

 and laughing at him, because another stream ran between 

 him and myself, about forty feet wide, 



A Pickerel took my bait and was running down stream. I 

 was fishing just then: the ram did not trouble me any. 

 After playing this fish a few minutes I landed him, and put 

 on another minnow, had cast out a few yards down stream, 

 and struck another fish; he was gamy and gave me plenty 

 of fight. 



Absorbed with my fish I forgot my surroundings. The 



