48 MONTANA STATE FISH AND GAME COMMISSION 



Much credit must be given to sportsmen of Montana, who, as a result of 

 close and whole-hearted co-operation with the Commission, have given valu- 

 able assistance in bird work in the state. A fine and very commendable ex- 

 ample is the splendid work done by sportsmen last winter in feeding game 

 birds which otherwise would have perished. 



The State Fish and Game Commission is in constant touch with bird 

 problems over the state due to the vigilence of its deputies and the cooperative 

 spirit of sportsmen. 



HIGHWAYS SPOIL FISHING? WHERE 

 DO YOU GET THAT STUFF? 



By BOB FLETCHER 



Planning Engineer, Montana Highway Department. 



HERE are still a grist of fireside fishermen bemoaning the 

 march of progress, which they claim has ruined the good old 

 days. These lugubrious gents carol a dirge entitled, "Those 

 happy times have gone forever." About one out of hundred of 

 these oracles can tell one kind of trout from another. A large 

 percentage can talk glibly about the merits of reels, tapered 



lines and agate guides but they are plumb ignorant regarding the details of 



a trout's home life, appetite and habits. 



These phony Ike Waltons recall the era when the number of trout they 

 snaked out of a riffle was solely dependent upon the number of flies that 

 dangled from their leader — one fly, one trout; two flies, two trout, and ad lib. 

 They scoff at the softness of the younger generation and narrate tales of ris- 

 ing before the uneasy crow to sally forth on a ten-mile fishing trip in the 

 family phaeton. They gloat over the discomforts and uncertainties attending 

 a jaunt in the pioneer inotoring period of stem winding cars. 



These enthusiasts likewise used to take the Sunday fishing train when 

 they wanted to be real sporting. Based on that sound adage "the farthest 

 fields are greenest," the railroad drummed up a nice little volume of extra 

 business transporting piscatorially inclined parties far afield to streams not 

 one jot or tittle nor even half a whit better than those right at home. They 

 played on that well known male weakness, the yen for an occasional change of 

 pasture. 



Now the particular feature in the march of progress which these slippered 

 pantaloons deplore is the construction of modern highways that give motorists 

 a two hundred mile radius from which to choose their Sunday fishing grounds. 

 They complain that no more can a man skid on a slick rock in mid-stream 

 and wade out with his boots full of fish. They lay this alleged dearth of brain 

 food to the new highways. 



Well, brother, it is undoubtedly true that you can nowadays dip a drink 

 of crystal clear mountain water out of a stream without having to strain the 

 fish out of it but it isn't because there are no fish left. There are perhaps 

 not quite as many as there used to be but the finny denizens that now disport 



