334 OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



under the after back fin, they survive fairly well 

 and their silver wriggllngs are hard for a pick- 

 erel to resist. 



Though I have said that I never see the fisher- 

 men off the pond I do see them sometimes fishing 

 for bait. They cut a big hole in the ice for this, 

 one big enough to let that monster pickerel that 

 is never caught come through, and through this 

 they drop to the bottom a big hoop net. This 

 they bait with cracker crumbs and now and then 

 pull it eagerly to the surface, often with many 

 shiners in it. There are small ponds that are 

 famous for being rich in bait alone and from 

 these the wiser fishermen draw their supply. 

 Though the fisherman about his fire up under the 

 lee of the pines on shore loves to tell tales of the 

 fish of other days and other ponds he is far from 

 garrulous when on the ice and hard at it. And 

 usually he is too busy to talk. If the fish are bit- 

 ing well he tears from one end to the other of his 

 long rows of traps, playing a fish here, hauling 

 one out there, setting a trap that has been sprung 

 by the wind or the too eager wriggling of the 

 bait, and on most fishing days, whether the fish 

 bite well or ill, he has to constantly make the 



