A BOOK OF FISHING STORIES 



will presently be told, and ate with friends, and very excellent 

 the fish was, even as interpreted by the old Greek cook, a some- 

 time shepherd, who looked after me in my quiet retreat in 

 Asia Minor. 



The bass is a fish which those who have met and fought it 

 under many skies associate with greater variety of scenery 

 than, perhaps, any other fish of river, lake, or sea. I say this 

 deliberately, mindful of the beautiful salmon and trout scenery 

 on which, in England, Scotland, and Canada my eyes have 

 feasted, often enough to the detriment of the catch, since I 

 confess to being one of the unpractical to whom the catching 

 of fish is not all of fishing. Many a rise I have missed, many 

 a time I have struck a second too late, just for watching a 

 sunrise come over the mountains or a rainbow lose itself in the 

 river ; nor would I, at the price of such agreeable sights, have 

 rather had the extra fish or two in the creel. There are few 

 fish associated with more distracting scenery than the bass, 

 and there is certainly no other fish among those caught by 

 sea anglers, since no other so determinedly hugs the land or 

 wanders such distances inland. The only other comparable 

 to the bass in this respect is the grey mullet, and that is a fish 

 rather of docks and piers, never taken on the hook out in the 

 open water off rocky headlands, and rarely, like the bass, out 

 of sight or hearing of the sea, as at Arundel and other spots 

 notable in the annals of bass-fishing. The panorama of my 

 own bass scenery includes, in addition to many dim scenes 

 that range from Anglesea to Suez, two settings that, since all 

 my best fish were taken in one or the other, must always 



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