Fishing a Neiv Section of the Gatineau Region 



37 



plored the bay and other places with 

 but little success, so we edged away to 

 our fishing ground of yesterday. The 

 line had been on the water, scarcely a 

 minute, before the bait was taken, and 

 then the sport began. 



The fish was a very large one, and 

 used every art to free himself from the 

 hook. 'Twas of no avail, however, 

 but my own folly lost the fish. The 

 landing net had become disarranged, 

 and to end the contest, I attempted to 

 lift the fish into the boat. The game 

 was ended ; splash went the bass into 

 the water, and the line came home 

 with a small piece of the gill attached 

 to the hook. My companion shrugged 

 his shoulders, and I was taught the 

 lesson (not the first in my life) "most 

 haste, worse speed." Most fishermen 

 are of the opinion that the lost fish are 

 the largest. It was, indeed, a noble 

 fish, and he well deserved to escape for 

 his gallant struggles for liberty. It 

 would weigh, I should judge, some 6 

 even pounds. 



Up to noon we had continuous good 

 sport, but after that they appeared to 

 take a noonday rest, so we sought our 

 luncheon basket and flask, from which 

 we mixed with our pure new milk a 

 draught that was very refreshing. 



In the last number of The American 

 Angler the question is asked, " Does 

 a black bass wag his head." He must 

 be? a wag that asks the question, but I 

 would answer, * ' yes ; and his tail, too. " 

 Indeed, when endeavoring to free him- 

 self from that which ensnared him, 

 every muscle is brought into play. I 

 have thought sometimes that fish are 

 endowed with reason, call it instinct, if 

 you will, but first define, where the one 

 ends and the other begins. 



After luncheon w^e whiled away an 

 hour, trolling at different parts of the 



lake, and then returned to our old 

 spot, and now again the game began, 

 and it was sport indeed, for the fish 

 were strong and vigorous. 'Twas a fair 

 field, and no favor except when we had 

 to keep them out of the reeds, which 

 was not easy at times, indeed we lost 

 several fine fish, but the sport was all 

 we could have wished for. 



We left the lake at about 5 p. m., 

 fully satisfied with our trip and the 

 pleasure, and the heartfelt enjoyment 

 we had experienced. At the boat- 

 house Montcrief came to assist us, and 

 when he saw our day's sport he was 

 pleased indeed. He said they were the 

 finest catch of fish that had been taken 

 out of the lake for a long time. It was 

 no light weight that he had to carry to 

 the house. Montcrief has a personal 

 interest in the protection of the lake, 

 and the lessees have also made him 

 the guardian of the fisheries. So he is, 

 practically speaking, monarch of all he 

 surveys. 



We took a light repast, and pledged 

 our hosts in our favorite draught (he, 

 however, preferred the real "simon 

 pure"— "pure and unadulterated"). 



The trap was at the door, the fish 

 were carefully packed, and with every 

 expression of good will and " come out 

 again soon," we turned our faces home- 

 ward in the gloaming. 



The evening was delightful, not a 

 ripple stirred the placid waters of the 

 lake, and not a breeze fanned the 

 leaves. "'Twas silence all," and that 

 never to be forgotten epic Gray's 

 Elegy was vividly brought to remem- 

 brance in the objects that passed in re- 

 view as we drove along. 



" The ' curfew ' tolls the knell of parting day. 



The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea ; 

 The ploughman homeward plods his weary 

 way, 



And leaves the world to darkness and to me." 



