184 HISTORY AND METHODS OF THE FISHERIES. 
Gill). The method of their capture I had no opportunity of observing.* They are taken in immense 
numbers by the “liviers” and furnished to the bankers. They are generally sold at a certain price 
for the baiting, and for $16, 10 to 20 or 25 barrels are supplied. They are stowed away in the bait- 
pens in the same manner as the herring, and can generally be preserved about the same length of 
time. 
Squip.—Of all the different forms of bait that are sought by the American bankers none are 
80 popular as the squid (Ommastrephes illecebrosa), and none so interesting in its capture. Their first 
approach is watched by thousands of anxious “liviers,” and news of the first capture is heralded in 
a way that makes the man who sees the first one in any season quite a public character, and con- 
fers considerable renown upon the hamlet where they are first captured. It is usually during the 
latter part of July that the excitement begins, and from that time till their disappearance in 
October they form the principal topic of conversation in many a hamlet on the coast. Armed with 
his squid jig the native fisherman leaves his home in the “wee sma’ hours” of the morning and 
putting out in his punt into the harbor stealthily lets his jig descend into the silent water and 
dreamily awaits a bite. The squid jig is so entirely unlike any other form of hook that I will 
briefly describe it: To one end of a cylinder of lead, 3 inches long, are fastened pins bent upward. 
No bait is used with it, but it is simply let down among the squid, and kept in constant motion to 
imitate the movements of a small fish and thus attract the squil. When one grasps it with its 
long tentacular arms the jig is quickly pulled in, and the squid thus entangled in the pins is 
secured. When they are in the humor, or, in Newfoundland dialect, when the squid have 
“struck,” they can be caught very fast indeed. When once the squid strike in a harbor, if 
the punts are not all out, anchored side by side, the news is communicated to those ashore 
by the sight of activity among those in the punts. In an instant the word,“ the squid’s struck,” 
flies through the village like wild-fire, and in an incredibly short time all the men folks of the 
village are anxiously waiting for a bite. During our second baiting, while we were anchored 
at Open Hall, a very amusing instance of this sort of thing occurred. As a rule all the punts 
in the village are anchored in the harbor during the whole day, but on this occasion the day 
was exceedingly blowy, and, the squid not biting, the “liviers” had all sought their own warm 
firesides. During the early part of the afternoon one man on board one vessel, in sheer lack of 
any better occupation, threw a jig over the side and had a bite instantly. He hauled up and 
threw in again and found that the “squid had struck solid.” “Then there was mounting in hot 
haste,” and in less than a minute every man on board was actively running a squid jig and pulling 
the squid in inavery lively manner. Hardly two minutes had passed when we saw a boat put out 
from the shore. This was instantly followed by four, and in Jess than ten minutes twenty-eight 
punts were strung along from us as a center, and all hands excitedly “jigging squid.” Like all 
other things, squid-jigging is by no means all sunshine. The squid has one or two confirmed habits 
which often lead to remarkably unpleasant consequences. As it isdrawn from the water the squid 
first discharges from his siphon a jet of salt water, which is very likely to strike the fisherman 
in the face. Almost instantly the squid follows this by a second jet of dirty black ink. Unless he 
be very quick and gets the squid off the jig and safely lodged among others of his kind this second 
less pleasant stream will strike the fisherman. I had, during the summer, the opportunity of 
seeing men served in that way, and judge from hearsay that it is not at all delightful. 
Squid are taken in enormous numbers in all the harbors of the island. Dering the first 
few days they seem to abound most plentifully in the more southern harbors, while during the 
e They are taken in small drag-seines, made specially for the purpose, and called ‘‘capelin seines.” The fish are 
inclosed in a semicircle of netting and drawn to the shore, where they are bailed into boats with a dip-net.—J. W.C. 
