Tragic Fishing Moments 



gentleman's sport. This is not a "gone-are-the-days" 

 lamentation old anglers will know what I mean. 

 Jugging was a form of fishing popular with our 

 forefathers, like the netting of quails and the baiting 

 of bears. It was a river sport and required plenty 

 of room and patience and muscle. Almost any se- 

 rene summer afternoon, when the old Ohio was 

 drowsing along as clear and unruffled as the surface 

 of a mirror, the juggers could be seen pulling their 

 boats up towards the bend above town. To their jugs 

 or buoys they would attach short lengths of strong 

 cord, with big hooks, baited with liver or chunks of 

 fat pork. The jugs would be cast overboard, about 

 one hundred feet or more apart, the boats leisurely 

 following them down the channel. Now and then a 

 jug would disappear or go zigzagging across the 

 river, and then there would be an exciting chase and 

 the possible capture of a big channel cat that might 

 tip the beam at fifty or a hundred, or even two hun- 

 dred pounds. 



One day when I was watching one of these stren- 

 uous exhibitions I got an idea. Why not go after 

 one of those big fellows with rod and reel? That 

 was before the big-game sea-anglers had begun to 

 win buttons by conquering giant tunas and tarpons, 

 but I must have had the budding faith of the Order, 

 for that little idea grew and grew until it reached 

 maturity. I became too obsessed by it to wait for a 



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