POLLACK AND PILCHARDS 119 



heroic effort to get the second anchor in, I actually 

 so far tired the bass as to bring that scaly truant to 

 rest and even coax a little line in over the gunwale. 

 Yet it was to no purpose, and it went off with a 

 final rush which caught me hanging out of the 

 boat with the winder extended at arm's length. 

 For all I know, he may still be cruising about 

 those seas with eight and-forty-yards of line trail- 

 ing from his powerful jaws, though more probably 

 the poor devil got tethered to some sunken 

 anchor or clump of seaweed and there died a slow 

 death from starvation, to be finally devoured by 

 crabs who would murmur at the poor condition 

 of the fare. That is always the sportsman's 

 regret when a heavy fish breaks away with hook 

 and line, for he cannot help thinking of the tor- 

 ture to which, unless by rare good luck the hook 

 comes out, the fugitive must inevitably be exposed. 

 For this reason, I always deprecate the use of 

 very fine tackle from high bridges and piers where 

 more fishes are dropped off in mid air than brought 

 to the creel. At Poole, for instance, those who 

 fish for bass from the Hamworthy Bridge, insist 

 on using fine gut tackle. As most of this fishing 

 is done in the dark, the escape of the fish is still 

 further favoured, and about nine out of ten (some- 

 times a slightly higher average) get away, often 

 with broken tackle in their jaws. This is sheer 

 cruelty. If you must fish for such heavy game 



