THE BOOK OF THE PIKE 



of artificial lures would catch more fish on a three- 

 day muskellunge trip, if he would spend the first two 

 studying the water to be cast over without even wetting 

 a line. Perhaps that is an exaggeration ; however, this 

 is the point I would emphasize: In raising fish, a knowl- 

 edge of the water is more important than good tackle. 

 Good tackle is an accessory after the fact. A fine rod, 

 expensive reel, and finished lure are impotent unless the 

 handler knows the habits of the muskellunge and is 

 comparatively well acquainted with the water to be 

 fished. 



I had a fishing acquaintance with a muskellunge of 

 Eagle Lake, Wisconsin, some summers ago, and 

 though he rose to my lures and live bait a number of 

 times, and I hooked him once, always he escaped. 

 Wise old Gray-sides! The careless handling of a 

 paddle, the scraping of a boot upon the floor of the 

 boat, even a flash from the reel was sufficient to awaken 

 his suspicions. Frightened, he never stampeded, as 

 does the trout ; rather, faded away. That is an apt de- 

 scription. More than once I saw him lying near the 

 surface, inert, motionless; then, presto, without move- 

 ment or motion apparently, he was gone. But a bask- 

 ing — "sleeping" — muskellunge seldom if ever strikes. 

 Well do I remember old "Gray-sides' " lair — the top 

 of an upturned tree, reaching out from the shore to 

 the very edge of deep water. The shore itself was 

 bordered with a mat of lily leaves, thick and impen- 

 etrable. Just off the lily bed, the water suddenly 

 deepened to twenty or thirty feet. Any muskellunge 

 fisherman will recognize it at once for an ideal "muskie 

 hole." Ah, "Gray-sides" was heavy, wise, and old — 

 too old and wise and heavy for me. 



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