The Fluke that Took a Fly 93 



ing craft that they gave up their play for 

 the day. 



To think a fluke would so degrade him- 

 self as to take a sweet-water bait on the line 

 of a fool fishing in salt water with a four- 

 ounce fly rod was too much for the hand- 

 liners, and they forsook our company. 

 My prize battled bravely for ten minutes, 

 not only dragging the line down under the 

 boat we were in, but now running away at 

 a lightning pace, now doubling with equal 

 speed, now diving to the very bottom of the 

 bay, and again and again bounding com- 

 pletely out of the water, his jaws tightly 

 set all the time, not relaxed as when 

 hooked inside the mouth, his fins and 

 eyes aglow, and his very frame quivering 

 with gamy strength and determined anger. 



I have since tried many times to tempt 

 the species with the artificial fly, but with- 

 out success. Still, I think there is yet 

 hope, for I know the fluke of swift, shallow 

 waters in another bay. Here shall I some 

 summer day give them a liberal trial. 



