374 NATURAL HISTORY OF AQUATIC ANIMALS. 



spawn is small, brown, about as large as number five shot, and floats. The young are found 

 abundantly in the creeks and bays.' 



The fishermen of the Saint John's River told me that in November, when schooling begins, 

 the fish are full-roed, but that in December the eggs have all been spent. 



Little need be said here about their commercial value except that they are taken with gill- 

 nets and spears and by the use of bottom-lines, baited with pieces of fish or shrimps. They are 

 much esteemed for food all through the South, resembling the striped bass or rock-fish in flavor 

 and flesh-texture, though possibly somewhat inferior. They enter largely into local consumption, 

 though a few thousand pounds are sent every year to New York and other cities of the North. 



In discussing the rank of this species as a game-fish, I cannot do better than quote the 

 words of Mr. H. 8. Williams, regarding his experiences in the Indian River region: "I have seen 

 them swimming in shallow water by the hundreds, sometimes ten and twenty, almost, moving 

 with all the regularity of solid columns of infantry; all apparently of the same size. The Red Fish 

 are in season at all times, but best from the 1st of April until January 1. In size they run up to 

 forty, and even fifty, pounds. They readily take mullet bait, and when securely hooked furnish 

 fine sport, for the Red Fish is emphatically a game-fish. I shall never forget my first experience in 

 this line, a day or two before the full of the moon in November. I concluded to try a new hook 

 just sent me by a distant friend. Just at dusk I went down to the river, and baiting my hook with 

 a half mullet, I walked out on a shelving coquina rock, and swinging the hook around my head a 

 few times sent it out into the river to the full length of the line; then filling and lighting my pipe I 

 took a seat and quietly awaited results. The moon, nearly full, was half an hour or more high, 

 not a cloud obscuring its brightness, and it made a highway of silver across the broad river, now 

 calm and smooth as glass. Scarcely a breath of air stirred the leaves of the huge live-oaks above 

 my head, and everything was so still that I could distinctly hear the fish in shallow water a mile 

 away as the small-fry dashed and jumped in their frantic endeavors to escape from the ravenous 

 jaws of their pursuers; in fact, everything was so still that I remember to have heard the sound 

 of a cow-bell, two miles away, as its low, mellow notes were borne over the broad expanse of 

 water. I had occasionally taken a whiff or two at my pipe and watched the fleecy clouds of smoke 

 float slowly upward and dissolve into space, before something sent an electric message to my finger 

 from the other end of the line. It was a faint message, scarcely felt, but distinct enough to tell 

 me what was there. A moment's pause and then it was repeated ; this time it was emphatic, for 

 the fish picked up the bait in its mouth as daintily as a neatly-gloved lady would pick up an 

 orange, and then let it fall again. Aha! my boy. You are an old hand at the business, and know 

 by past experience that sometimes even the most tempting morsels are dangerous. A moment 

 more it is picked up again, and yet again, and then it is carried a couple of yards or so before it is 

 dropped; and then back again; then further off. Our fish is playing with the bait as a coquette 

 with hearts. The very moment a novice would think that he was going to take it, 'tis dropped 

 and he is gone again. No, not gone, only swimming around in circles, keeping one eye on the 

 prize and keeping away all such intruders as sharks and cat-fish. 



"Now for it. The bait is picked up, seized with a vim, as though he meant business, and 

 away he starts with it. Here the inexperienced would jerk the line and perhaps lose the fish, or 

 at least have the whole formula to go over again. But wait; the successful sportsman must 

 practice patience. Again the bait is dropped, but not for long. In a moment it is seized, and this 

 time there is no feint about it. He darts off, the lino Is drawn tight, then u sudden jerk and a 

 wild plunge tell that the game is safely hooked. And now commences the struggle for life. 

 Away he goes up the stream for fifty yards or more, straining every nerve to get free; then down, 



