A Bit of River 75 



demands as much skill and vastly greater all-round 

 knowledge than does fly-fishing. This, to some, may 

 appear rank heresy, yet it is true. 



Of course, in this class of expert bait fishers are 

 not included those cheerful idiots who select a spot 

 because it is shady, or offers a comfortable seat, 

 then plop in the bait, set the pole in a crotched sup- 

 port, and perhaps read, while waiting for something 

 to happen. That, beyond question, is still-fishing, 

 also beautifully restful. A comical feature of it is 

 that every now and then it proves partially success- 

 ful, for even a duffer may blunder upon the proper 

 spot at the right time, while almost any one knows 

 enough to heave upon a fish-pole when the signs 

 say that something has managed to hook itself ! 



The real bait fisher, however, would scorn so 

 lubberly a method, and by bait fisher is meant the 

 man who fishes the river, instead of some six square 

 yards of it. He knows every bit of good water for 

 miles, where to expect each species of fish, what 

 baits to use and when, and what to change to should 

 a sort usually tempting happen to fail. His method 

 somewhat resembles the fly-fisher's, for he keeps 

 moving from one promising spot to another, and if 

 any one catches fish, he is apt to be the guilty party. 

 And this sort of fishing is the more interesting be- 

 cause it affords both variety and full scope for the 

 exercise of one's craft, for it calls for something of 

 the observation and resourceful skill of the still- 

 hunter, rather than the putty-like patience of the 

 ordinary still-fisher. Among the experts of our 

 river are past masters of this branch of the gentle art. 



The great charm of our river, however, does not 



