126 FISHING GOSSIP. 
roam once more through his wide domain, and to pre- 
pare for that sunny phase of his existence in which I 
shall presently present him to the reader. Lastly, in 
this brief record of his habits, he essays in some dark 
and stormy night of November, or thereabouts, to 
reach that Mecca of the ocean to which all true- 
believing and orthodox eels endeavour to make a, pil- 
grimage, once at least in their life. It was in a . 
fruitless attempt of this kind that I recollect having 
seen fifteen dozen of these intending emigrants taken 
of a morning from a small weir or eel-trap, con- 
structed under the arch of a bridge that spanned a 
streamlet running out of a large lake, and not more 
than six to nine inches deep. What struck me on 
the occasion was not, of course, the number of the 
captives, but the fact that there was not one in the lot 
legs than about three pounds, and many much more. 
As they undoubtedly bred in the lakes, these annual 
migrations to the ocean—from which, unlike some 
members of the salmon family, they seem never to 
return—present a problem which the fish philosophers 
have not yet, I believe, solved. 
The instrumental requisites for sun-spearing are a 
small boat and a spear specially constructed for the 
purpose. Besides skill in the use of these agents, a 
practical knowledge of swimming, or in lieu thereof 
“a good conscience,” is most desirable. Persons who 
may never have had occasion to test practically the 
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