F L Y-F ISHING IN THE SCHUYLKILL RIVER 



so tardily, that it was confined to the stretch of 

 the stream bounded up and down by the two pre- 

 viously named water-marks, the lower one of which 

 was only a distance of 300 yards from the camp. 



Mendy, fishing in the centre, and standing some 

 twenty feet back of a large rock known as " The 

 Daddy," on account of its great size, was the first 

 to get a rise. His fish was a pounder, known at 

 once to be such, not only from its size, but by 

 the vivacity of its strike. 



Mendy would never listen to the accepted theory 

 that bass could be found and caught with more 

 certainty by allowing the flies to sink an inch or 

 two below the surface. Whenever the fact was 

 announced he would bury it under a contemptu- 

 ous "Bosh!" and always persisted in skittering 

 his fly over the water. He did not vary his prac- 

 tice on this occasion, and was quickly greeted with 

 a rise, the like of which is only an occasional oc- 

 currence among bass. 



The fish, in its eagerness, missed the lure, and 

 came, trout-like, at least a foot out of the water, 

 turning a complete somersault, returning head 

 down into the stream again. 



A careful eye, watching Mendy just then, would 

 have been delighted and somewhat astonished to 

 see him, then and there, go back upon his em- 

 phatic "Bosh!" as he lulled his skittered fly into 

 a passive float, allowing the sweep of the current 



107 



