Striped Bass. 



453 



and only conies in when he fears that the struggle is becoming 

 monotonous. 



What's that — another blue-fish ? No, his pull is too steady ; it's 

 a bass, surely ! This one strikes off in another direction ; he lays his 



course as though he were bound 

 for Pasque Island. There, he 

 has taken the line around that 

 rock ; better to give him 

 slack and risk his 

 unhooking him- 

 self than have 



\i J. i 



the line frayed 

 and perhaps 

 parted against 

 the sharp 

 granite edges. 

 Now he's off 

 again; handle him 

 tenderly : there's no 

 knowing what damage 

 that rub may have done 

 to the slender line — phew ! how cola 

 the water is ! That wave struck flat 

 against the rock which supports the 

 seat, and drenched us. 



There is no royal road to this heavy surf-fishing ; with all the 

 appliances for comfort which experience can suggest, there is a cer- 

 tain amount of hard work to be done and exposure to be borne as a 

 part of the price of success. Father Neptune is no respecter of per- 

 sons, and spatters his royal favors so lavishly and so impartially on 

 the just and the unjust that, unless you are a believer in the 'long- 

 shore theory that "salt water never hurts nobody," and can take a 

 tborougfa soaking philosophically and as a matter of course, you had 

 better give up all thought of being a bass-fisherman. It is some- 

 what trying to the nerves to have a barrel of salt water dashed unex- 

 pectedly in your face, sousing you in an instant from head to foot, 

 and at times, when there is a heavy sea running, it is dangerous. 

 29A 



