THE ANGLER'S GUIDE 89' 



colors of gold, silver, copper, green, blue and brassy bronze 

 are enthusiastically admired by all. 



"That's the first live bluefish I've ever seen," says 

 Wilstach, and to me its the most beautiful fish in the 

 world!" 



"And a game fighter?" I ask. 



"The greatest I ever battled with, and I've caught my 

 share of trout, bass and maskinonge. I don't know about 

 the salmon, as I never caught one, but I can't believe it 

 possible for any species to be a greater gamester than the 

 bluefish, if they're all like this one. Why, he weighs only 

 about six pounds, you say, and yet he fought longer and 

 fiercer and gave in harder than any of my maskinonge four 

 times his weight. Henceforth, I'm a bluefish enthusiast. 

 And the fishing, this practical play in salt water, is equal 

 to any sport in lake or stream, if done right, with proper 

 tackle, a steady head and hand, and a humane heart." 



Griggs is now busy with his first bluefish of the day,, 

 and we are all making room for him the same as we aided 

 Wilstach, when a cry from Pierce announces that he, too,, 

 has hooked his game. 



Griggs' fish breaks away, and the line, snapping a yard 

 or so above the leader shoots back as if started from a 

 spring gun. 



Pierce is only a trifle more fortunate with his fish as he 

 loses it on a slack line soon after the accident to brother 

 Griggs. 



I am having a great time all by myself over by the chum 

 boy, who is giving me all kinds of advice and the choicest 

 pieces of fat bait only to get a strike at nearly every 

 throw without hooking the game. This is repeated at 

 every toss of the line for the first half hour. My bait no 

 sooner clears the stern than there is a tug on the line that 

 nearly takes me off my feet. I simply can't hook the 

 fish, try as I will. 



The Captain declares I don't know the trick, the boy 

 says my bait is taken by weakfish, not bluefish, and that 

 I should strike differently, but I think my hook is at fault , 

 too large or too dull, for I am not a tyro in this sort of 

 fishing, and I tell the bayman and his boy how easily I 

 was high hook last summer in this very same spot on more 

 than one occasion. 



"Well, I says it taint th' bait, th' chum, or th' fish," 

 snarls Captain Brant, as I again receive the strike and 

 miss the fish when I strike back; "th' blues be here thick- 

 er'n herrin' in a net, an' them 'ere menhaden pieces an r 

 this 'ere chum be a fetchin' 'em all but in th' boat hook 

 him, yeh've got him this time!" 



And so I have, but only for a tug or two longer than with 

 the other strikes, and the fish is as free as any in the bay. 



"Lem me see thet hook," says Brant, as I reel in for a 

 fresh bait. The hook is examined, and the old bayman 

 looks daggers at me as he hurries on a new piece of herring 



