COIN' AFTER MUSKY 



So you're out for the big ones, the " tiger" of the 

 waters, the great old rascal that makes 'em all sit up 

 and doff the lid. You've bassed, trouted, and piked 

 and panned a bit, now you feel like taking a whirl at 

 the boss of the tribe, caused no doubt by the many 

 tales that have been spun about this Villa of the 

 weedbeds. No matter how harrowing the tale may 

 be, Old Man, the muskellunge is guilty of everything 

 that has been said about him. And at that he still 

 has a deck full of tricks he has never sprung on the 

 countless Waltons who try to give him the once-over. 

 He has caused more nervous prostration than the 

 bright lights, and take it from me, hooking a 20- or 

 3O-pound musky unawares is no game for a nervous 

 player. From the moment of the strike, it's a case 

 of your wits against those of the musky, and you've 

 got to think fast or you'll find yourself reeling in a 

 slack line, with the musky doing the famous fade- 

 away. 



The musky is a vicious cuss and he sure looks the 

 part. He has a pair of jaws set with a bunch of 

 sharp saw-like teeth that would make a shark jealous, 

 the lower jaw projecting beyond the upper, giving 



90 



