F L y-F ISHING IN THE SCHUYLKILL RIVER 



We have often seen an old bass, when feeding, 

 dart among a crowd of minnows where the water 

 was so shallow that his great dorsal fin was per- 

 force entirely out of the water; and more than 

 once, when fishing over the stretch of the bar near 

 Quail Island, the Doctor had observed large bass 

 working their way for yards, with side fins and 

 muscles, where the river had a depth of only a 

 few inches. 



Knowing this retreating habit of the bass when- 

 ever deeper water was accessible, the Doctor deftly 

 and quickly threw his flies about three feet to the 

 rear of the spot where he had last seen the body of 

 the fish splash into the water. He had not only 

 dropped his flies behind, but also allowed them to 

 sink an inch or two below the surface, knowing 

 fuU well that bass would not make two immedi- 

 ately consecutive rises. His caution and skill were 

 promptly rewarded. 



The flsh, doubtless with his appetite sharpened 

 by the delicacy of the silver shiner just swallowed, 

 struck with such boldness that the Doctor, who had 

 hitherto invariably handled his strikes in silence, 

 cried out: 



"Mark! Mark!" 



His experience and memories of the past de- 

 lights of the field probably prompted this invol- 

 untary cry, as not many years ago, before his eye 

 had been dazed by the sweep of a covey, he was 



111 



