igi vik |@aN ANGLER. 
SEPTEMBER, 1895. No. 9 

AMONG THE CISCOES OF LAKE GENEVA. 
BY WILLIAM C. HARRIS. 
In June last, at the invitation of 
Mr. John E. Burton, we visited Lake 
Geneva, Wisconsin, primarily for the 
object of affording Mr. Petrie, the art- 
ist, an opportunity to paint the cisco 
as it came, blushing in rose and violet, 
from its spring-fed habitat. This fish, 
like the grayling of northern Michigan, 
is looked upon by the anglers of the 
State in which it lives with more of 
local pride than any other fish that 
swims, and the conditions under which 
it is captured, its beauty of form and 
color, its firm, flaky flesh, and almost 
mathematical limit in size, render it 
worthy of the meed it receives. 
Reaching Lake Geneva in the after- 
noon of June 3, through the courteous 
attention of the city authorities, mem- 
bers of the local press and others, we 
were at once taken on a steam launch 
to the cisco grounds, where a scene 
was spread before us not equalled, in 
vividness of interest, at any other time 
or On any other spot. in. America: 
About forty boats were anchored within 
an area of a few hundred feet. Each 
of them contained two to four anglers, 
all of whom were engaged in fishing 
for ciscoes. The boats were anchored 
in about seventy-five feet of water, and 
each of them had on board more or less 
bushels- of live May or June flies 
(Ephemerts vulgate), which are used, 
exclusively by the residents, as lures 
for the cisco, and so great is the at- 
traction these flies possess for this fish, 
that from a depth of 1oo feet or more 
the cisco will rise from the bottom to 
feed upon them. At the time we an- 
chored, some distance from the fleet of 
fishing boats, the water was as pure 
and placid as that of a land-locked 
mere, where not even a zephyr comes 
to ruffle or disturb the mirrowing sur- 
face. Not a sign, not even a water 
whirl of a fish could be seen, and we 
looked with astonishment and distrust 
upon the request to go aboard the fish- 
ing skiff, which was rowed several hun- 
dred yards away from the launch. We 
could see the fishermen in the forty or 
more boats, some distance from us, 
lifting the ciscoes from the water, and 
dropping them quietly into the skiffs, 
but where we anchored not a fin or 
evidence of one could be seen. Upon 
expressing our surprise at this condi- 
tion of things, we were told to hold our 
patience with a strong hand, but only 
for a few moments. 
The bow anchor was dropped at least 
100 feet, and another one at the stern 
to keep the boat steady, for which 
there was no occasion on this unusually 
calm day. So far as we could see there 
was not even a ripple on the surface of 
the lake, which is about twelve miles 
