THE BOOK OF THE PIKE 



by a simple slash with my knife in case I connected 

 up with one of the mythical "big ones," in which case 

 an anchor rope might lead to as disastrous an entangle- 

 ment as the murder of some tin-crowned prince in a 

 two-by-four country. The reader may smile at my 

 forethought, but to it I attribute the successful issue 

 of more than one ichthyic struggle, and in this case— 

 but read on. 



I have already said the rod was the old tried and 

 true "six-foot-six," though it might have been the 

 regular caster or long cane pole, though if the latter, 

 then fitted with reel-bands and line guides. Personally, 

 I prefer the shorter rod for the fishing. My reel was a 

 large level-winder, the one that happened to be cleaned 

 and in perfect condition, and there was a second in 

 my tackle-case, in case of accident. It held eighty 

 yards of line. My hook was large. No. 7-0, provided 

 with a ten-inch piano-wire gimp and swivel. I placed 

 a float on the line in such a position that the hook 

 would almost reach the bottom, but not quite. There 

 was such a sea running that I found it necessary to 

 attach two large sinkers. I know it sounds like "shark 

 tackle," but, after all, a big great pike is a sort of 

 shark, in nature, at least. 



I selected my minnow from the pail, an eight-inch 

 chub, that reddish-black variety, with little warts or 

 knobs on its nose, called locally "horned dace." I 

 thrust the large hook through the body of the bait 

 about midway between head and tail and below the 

 backbone. To pierce the latter would be to kill the 

 bait, and I desired that it remain alive as long as 

 possible. Hooked, I tossed it into the rough water 

 and the waves quickly carried it away from the boat, 

 out as far as I would allow it to go. I had a rod- 

 holder in my tackle-box; it I fastened to a boat-seat, 

 slipped the rod in, and settled back to rest, invoke my 

 soul, and admire the view. The reader will readily 

 understand that the waves tossing the float or "bobber" 

 up and down kept the bait in motion. That is one 

 reason why I selected a windy day, though, as every 



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