12 



large eels. If the line touches the bottom for an 

 instant an eel seems certain to be waiting for it, and 

 I would as readily handle a squid as an eel. 



My brother, who frequently accompanies me, is 

 not a fisherman and prefers fishing for eels, and 

 by a rule of contrariness the bass bother him quite 

 as much as the fresh- water "snakes," as I call 

 them, bother me. 



Among my troubles I must not forget the mud 

 turtles and snappers. They, too, are a nuisance 

 when baiting with worms, and anyone who desires 

 a few of the "shell-backs" can be abundantly ac- 

 commodated. 



For more than two miles of this lovely stream 

 any man who knows how to handle a rod or throw 

 a fly can land, or at least hook, some of the liveli- 

 est two to three pounders he could wish for, and 

 although bass vary in their tastes at different per- 

 iods of the day, I know nothing better than the 

 common trolling spoon as a regular thing. There 

 is one pool where I would almost be inclined to 

 wager that I could get a strike with either spoon 

 or fly every ten minutes during the first two hours 

 of daylight, or from five to eight in the evening. 

 That is saying a good deal, but it is a fact. 



The best fish I caught last season was when I 

 was going up stream in the canoe near the mouth 

 of the lake and close to the right side. By a sudden 

 movement I shot under some willow branches. I was 

 just letting my line run out after a weed strike and was 

 holding the paddle in my left hand, with the line be- 



