AVALON, THE BEAUTIFUL 



fish, each of which gave birth to a little one while 

 being fought on the harpoon! Ye gods! It would 

 never do to record my utterances. 



But I record this fact only in the hope of opening 

 the eyes of anglers. I have no ax to grind for my- 

 self. I have gone through the game, over to the 

 fair side, and I want anglers to know. 



We are a nation of fishermen and riflemen. Who 

 says the Americans cannot shoot or fight? What 

 made that great bunch of Yankee boys turn back 

 the Hun hordes? It was the quick eye, the steady 

 nerve, the unquenchable spirit of the American boy 

 — his heritage from his hunter forefathers. We are 

 great fishermen's sons also, and we can save the 

 fish that are being depleted in our waters. 



Let every angler who loves to fish think what it 

 would mean to him to find the fish were gone. The 

 mackerel are gone, the bluefish are going, the men- 

 haden are gone, every year the amberjack and king- 

 fish grow smaller and fewer. We must find ways 

 and means to save our game fish of the sea; and 

 one of the finest and most sportsman-like ways is to 

 use light tackle. 



Wiborn, the Lone Angler, is also in a class by him- 

 self. To my mind Wiborn is the ideal angler of the 

 sea. I have aspired to his method, but realize it is 

 impossible for me. He goes out alone. Hence the 

 name Lone Angler. He operates his motor-launch, 

 rigs his tackle and bait and teasers, flies his kite, 

 finds the fish, fights the one he hooks, and gaffs and 

 hauls it aboard or releases it, all by himself. Any 

 one who has had the slightest experience in Pacific 



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