The King Bass of the Delaware 



development, I stood on the rocky shore of this pool. 

 Impaling a large green frog on my hook, I cast him 

 into the middle of the stream. As the frog lay kick- 

 ing on the surface of the pool, the largest small-mouth 

 bass I ever saw alive rolled silently to the surface. 

 A mouth that seemed a foot across and the baleful 

 glare of a pair of red eyes actually frightened me as 

 I stood there paralyzed at the sudden appearance. 

 Perhaps those eyes in that wonderfully clear water 

 actually did see me standing there mouth open; per- 

 haps the bait I offered was not to his liking, but at 

 any rate he disappeared as silently and rapidly as he 

 had appeared, and no amount of casting or still-fish- 

 ing ever brought him up again. 



Many hours were spent every summer in a try for 

 " my " bass, but he refused in turn everything from 

 flies to mice, though occasionally on a dark night we 

 could hear him from the bungalow porch smashing 

 through schools of minnows or jumping at the sur- 

 face. Daylight, moonlight, darkest night were all use- 

 less so far as hooking him was concerned. Local en- 

 thusiasts, with memories of broken " poles " and lost 

 snelled hooks and cod lines, estimated him at from 

 seven to eight pounds. Discounting this by a pound 

 or two made him even then a regular whale of a 

 bass for this river of many rapids, little feed and few 

 deep pools for honest small-mouths to loaf in and 

 grow stout. 



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