328 Life and Sport on the Pacific Slope 



fish strikes vigorously, stampedes with terror when 

 he feels the barb, but soon tires. My heaviest hali- 

 but scaled twenty-eight pounds ; but fish weighing 

 several hundred pounds are often taken with hand 

 lines ! They are found anywhere and everywhere, 

 but seldom linger long in the same place. A friend 

 of mine, who has studied their habits, says they 

 bite most freely when the water is clear, and as the 

 tide begins to flow. This has been our experience. 



The barracuda comes last but one, and, like the 

 bonito, merits better treatment than it receives at 

 the hands of sportsmen. At Catalina, during the 

 months of May, June, and July, these fish are 

 slaughtered by the thousands. The power-launches, 

 at times, are nothing else but shambles reeking with 

 blood and slime ; the. stands of the boatmen hang 

 heavy with them every evening ; and the importu- 

 nate photographer drives a roaring trade. 



The barracuda seldom weighs more than ten 

 pounds, and affords fair sport if taken with light 

 tackle. Any lure will serve, if he be biting, but he 

 is an expert at disgorging. You will know him 

 long before you see his lithe, sinuous body, by reason 

 of his arrowy rushes and habit of shaking the hook. 

 He seldom sounds, and never sulks, but easily tires. 

 I have seen millions of these fish lying together, 

 packed like sardines, side by side, motionless and 

 deep down. At these times they never feed. Again 

 I have seen them playing upon the surface of the 

 water, lashing the summer seas into foam, too busily 

 employed to make way for launch or row-boats, and 

 falling, of course, an easy prey to both. 



The black bass, Stereolepis gigas, is, I believe, not 



