CHAPTER VIII 
THE HOGFISH 
“ And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish, 
Argent and gold ; and some of Tyrian skin, 
Some crimson-barred.” 
— THomas Hoop. 
Tue angler is a true lover of nature; were he 
not the gentle art would flag and die, as in his 
experience there come dark days when the game 
for some strange and unreasonable cause will not 
rise, or sink to the lure. By such periods you 
shall know the true rodsman, as when the fish 
refuse to bite he finds solace in a thousand and 
one objects: the soft sighing of the leaves along 
some favorite stream; the gurgle of the water as 
it flows from pool to pool; the call of the locust, 
which “stabs the still air with its shrill alarm” 
are all understood. If a sea-angler he can 
“call spirits from the vasty deep”; the deep blue 
of the ocean, its many moods, the shadow of 
clouds upon its surface, the delicate glasslike 
shapes that drift across his line; the sounds of 
118 
