20 



FOREST AND STREAM 



HOW TO CATCH A SALMON. 



THE following sketch is from the able pen of Win. H 

 Yenning Esq. , Inspector of Fisheries for the Provinces of 

 New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, a gentleman in whose 

 genial companionship we have rejoiced, by editorial desk 

 and dashing stream. [Ed. F. & S.] 



"At earliest dawn one morning in July, Fred, Charles, 

 Harry and Jim woke from sound sleep on fragrant couches 

 of fresh fir boughs, in their comfortable camp at Burnt 

 Hill on the Miramichi, and after a refreshing plunge in the 

 clear, cool water, proceeded, according to a programme ar- 

 ranged the evening before, Fred and Jim to the " uppet 

 casts," where the ice-cold waters of Burnt Hill Brook flow 

 over a succession of small ledges into the main river, Charles 

 and Harry to the "Pool," and the rapids of "Grassy 

 Island," both within five minutes walk of the camp. 



Morning had raised the mantle of darkness, and the ruddy 

 glow of the Eastern horizon told our fishermen they had 

 no time to lose, as their hopes of freshly caught salman for * 

 breakfast depended on their skill in luring the monarch 

 from his haunts amid the rocks which, at these points, 

 break the quiet flow of the river into mimic waves and cir- 

 cling eddies. Let us accompany them, gentle reader, and 

 see how salmon are conquered by doughty knights of the 

 rod and skillful squires of the gaff. 



Immediately in front of the camp, about twenty yards 

 from the bank, is a flat-topped rock, that rises just above 

 the level of the river, affording good footing and a splendid 

 cast up, down and across the pool. Here we will leave 

 Harry, who has waded to the rock, and is deftly casting a 

 fly far down the quiet pool, and walk with Charles about 

 forty rods further down the bank of the river, wdiere Grassy 

 Island divides the stream, and where the still waters of the 

 pool rush swiftly through a narrow gorge on the hither 

 side, broken into numberless eddies as it strikes the rocks 

 thickly scattered below the island. A ledge, partially sub- 

 merged, here extends from the shore to the very edge of 

 the foaming current, enabling the sure-footed angler to ap- 

 proach so near that he can cast his fly well across the chan- 

 nel that separates him from the island, and also down to 

 the nearest rocks at its foot. Here our friend Charles has 

 betaken himself, and, with skilful hand, is making his fly 

 dance in the eddy of " salmon rock." The sun has peeped 

 above the horizon and given him an encouraging wink; he 

 is using his best skill, causing his fly to fall with the light- 

 ness of the natural insect, allowing it to rest a moment, then 

 making it flutter on the surface, and finally lifting it for a 

 fresh cast. Apparently the wily fish is choice in his food 

 this morning, for he gives no evidence of his presence, and 

 a less experienced fisherman than our friend would hastily 

 conclude that he was "not at home " for the day. Charles 

 knows better; so, having offered his Highness one dish with- 

 out exciting even curiosity, he is now intent on substituting 

 another of less gaudy hue and more modest proportions. 



While he is changing flies, let us just take our lungs 

 fnll of this invigorating air, every inhalation of which is a 

 positive pleasure, and look on the magnificent panorama 

 before us, as length after length is unrolled in the gorgeous 

 light of the rising sun. Is it not a sight to gladden the 

 heart of the poor dweller in cities, who has almost forgot- 

 ten when he last saw the sun rise? But look! Charles has 

 caught either the monarch or his rock, for the arch of his 

 rod tells its own tale. Ha ! see there ! a fifteen-pounder, at 

 least ! Again and again, the splendid fish throws himself 

 full length out of water in the vain effort to snap the thread 

 of fate. Foiled, by the dexterous management of our ang- 

 ler, in his cunning attempts to throw himself across the 

 slender line that held him, he made directly for the rapids, 

 and a most exciting combat ensued. 



To the left, shorewards from the rock on which the ang- 

 ler stood, was a small, quiet basin, sheltered from the rush 

 of water by the ledge, to the right; the water rushed with 

 the velocity of a mill-race, broken into foam by sunken 

 rocks and projecting points of the ledge. In this basin, 

 could he only succeed in restraining his captive, there was 

 ample room to "play his fish," and every probability of 

 ultimately securing him ; but if he once got his nose into 

 the rapid, no tackle could hold him, for the strength of the 

 current was such that it required an effort to draw even the 

 line up it; he would have the game all his own way, would 

 run off from fifty to eighty yards of line, and most probably 

 tangle or cut it round one of the numerous rocks at the 

 foot of the rapid. As the whole energies of the fish were 

 directed to getting into the current, the whole strength of 

 rod and line, and all the skill a*id judgment of our angler 

 were in requisition to keep him out of it. For some mo- 

 ments it was a tie— the persistent efforts of the prisoner were 

 met by a stern determination to try rod and line to the ut- 

 most verge of prudence, and the two forces were so evenly 

 balanced, that, for more than a minute, the fish did not 

 gain an inch. Becoming convinced that his position was 

 a dangerous one, desperation added strength to the prisoner, 

 and slowly, foot by foot, he neared the rapids of hope to 

 him, but of grief to his captor. With thumb on line, anx- 

 iously calculating the last ounce it would bear, and with 

 the but of his rod directed to the fish, reluctantly our ang- 

 ler yielded inch after inch to his retreating prey. With 

 disappointment and dismay we see him gradually approach 

 the edge of the current, and give up all hope of breakfast- 

 ing off him. Not so our friend Charles; he had been victor 

 inmany more desperate straits, and now, cool and calcula- 

 ting in his judgment, while every nerve was tense with 

 delicious excitement, he stood clamly weighing the chances, 

 equal to either fortune, success or failure. He knew that 



if he increased his pressure on the line by another half 

 ounce, one of two results was sure to follow, either the 

 hook would be torn from the fish's mouth, or some part of 

 the tackle would be broken ; in either case, good bye mon- 

 arch; but, by judiciously yielding, there was still a chance 

 of final success ; so his eagle eye and steady, skillful hand 

 were both on the alert, ready for what the exigencies of the 

 case might demand. The fish had now fairly won his way 

 within three feet of the rapid, and most fishermen would 

 have relinquished the last hope of turning him, but your 

 true angler never gives away a trick. Our friend Charles, 

 guaging to a hair the strength of his tackle, kept on the 

 pressure to the extreme point of safety, but in spite of cool- 

 ness, skill, judgment and determination, he had met his 

 match; while resisting to the utmost the prisoner's efforts to 

 escape, he admired his strength, endurance and persistent 

 pluck, and smiled 



"With the stem joy that warriors feel 

 In foemen worthy of their steel." 

 Inch by inch the noble fish fought his way— inch by inch 

 the reluctant line slipped through the rings, the arch of the 

 rod unbroken, and the but following the fish— until at 

 length he gained the rapid; with one wild plunge, and a 

 triumphant wave of his broad tail, down he went! The 

 short arch of the rod was instantly relieved, the line, left 

 free, uncoiled from the whizzing reel, and ran through the 

 rings like lightning, making that most exciting of all music, 

 that none but an angler can appreciate. Down, down the 

 rapid he shot like an arrow, until he reached the water be- 

 low, when the weight of some fifty or sixty yards of line 

 that he was towing, began to diminish his headlong career. 

 Charles, still apparently cool and collected, but with the 

 fire of intense excitement in his eye, had now his skill" 

 tried to the utmost, while our chance of breakfasting off 

 that fish looked slim indeed. 



There must have been at least fifty yards of line run off 

 in that splendid rush, and the monarch was now in his fam- 

 iliar haunts, amid visible and invisible rocks, scattered 

 thickly around. To exercise much control over him at 

 that distance was impossible, and it became absolutely 

 necessary to his capture, to turn his head up the stream, 

 and so prevent him winding among the dangerous rocks, 

 and perhaps cutting the line against their sharp angles and 

 rugged edges. While the salmon is running from you on a 

 long line, no control can be had over his movements, he 

 goes where he pleases, and does as he chooses, but when 

 heading toward you a skilful hand can guide him where he 

 will. Hence our angler now directed his attention to turn- 

 ing his fish, and reducing the distance that separated them. 

 So, with hand again on line, and "butting" him well, he 

 bore with steady strain on the flying prisoner, held now 

 by the slightest of bonds. Finding his progress impe- 

 ded, and his strength impaired, the preplexed fish again 

 throws himself out of the water in desperate efforts to 

 break away. Cool, self-possessed and wary, the angler 

 foils these cunning tricks, by depressing the tip of his rod, 

 which takes off the strain, the moment the fish leaves the 

 water, and elevating it again, which replaces the strain, 

 the instant he touches it in his fall. Unsuccessful in his 

 efforts, and still feeling the strain of the mysterious thread, 

 the courageous fish rushes madly up stream, putting the 

 skill and quickness of our friend to the severest test, for if 

 the prisoner can only succeed in getting this inexorable 

 strain off the line, he will probably dislodge the tempting 

 sham that lured him to his fate. Elevating his rod, he 

 winds in his line with a speed and steadiness that practice 

 alone can give, and the startled fish, although going in the 

 opposite direction, still feels the exasperating thread, that 

 is now drawing him forward with as much force as it before 

 drew him back. Utterly mystified, and unwilling to ap- 

 proach the spot from which he had so recently and by such 

 hard labor escaped, he goes to the bottom to rest and con- 

 sider matters. 



Fishermen generally call this "sulking," but our angler 

 knows that the noble fish never sulks, never despairs, he 

 merely takes a breathing spell, and is cogitating all the 

 while, studying his next defensive movement, and aware 

 that this will take the form of a succession of short, sharp 

 jerks, to tear out the fatal lure — just as a brave man under- 

 goes the pain of wrenching out the barbed arrow, knowing 

 that present anguish is the price of future safety — our 

 friend Charles takes this opportunity of getting to shore. 

 With cautious step, for the ledge is slippery and the footing 

 treacherous, with one eye on the last visible inch of his 

 line* and the other everywhere — " feeling his fish " all the 

 while, carefully letting out line as he recedes from the fish, 

 and reeling it in as he approaches him, so that the same 

 gentle strain shall never cease for an instant, he picks his 

 way rapidly to shore, daring many a dangerous leap with 

 the foot of faith. Once safe on shore, he breathes more 

 freely, and feels increasing confidence as to the result, he 

 walks steadily down past the rapid, taking in line and feel- 

 ing his fish, till he reaches the nearest point in a direct line 

 to his resting captive. The imminent danger of defeat be- 

 ing now over, our angler is quite as willing as his prisoner 

 to rest awhile and wipe the perspiration from his brow. 



Our monarch had evidently a knotty problem to solve, 

 and was doubtless meditating deeply on " the position"; 

 were it not for the regular and symmetrical arch of the 

 tapering rod, w T e should not have known his whereabouts. 

 Presently there came a succession of sharp, indignant jerks, 

 then a relapse into quietness. Had these jerks been met by 

 a straight rod, thus bringing the whole force on the hook, 

 instead of on a yielding arch that gave to the slightest 

 strain, the chances were ten to one that the captive's object 

 would have been gained, and the hook torn from its hold; 



but our angler had learned from experience that the mon- 

 arch of the stream is most to be guarded against when most 

 quiet, and was fully prepared to foil this manoeuvre. Ac- 

 cordingly the jerks were met by a long and flexible arch 

 which offered so little resistance, that the efforts of the fish 

 could only fatigue himself, and render his subsequent strug. 

 gles less vigorous. Still, these vindictive jerks are not rel- 

 ished by the angler, he knows they mean mischief, and 

 that they are liable at any moment to succeed— for who can 

 tell how a salmon is hooked till he is fairly on shore? So 

 to avoid a repetition of these dangerous tricks, and to pre', 

 vent him from recovering energy to repeat them, it became 

 advisable to rouse him from his lair, keep him in motion 

 and exhaust his strength as soon as possible ; for your old 

 angler well knows that the chances of losing a fish increase 

 in a direct ratio to the square of the time he has been on 

 the hook, as every rush, and every struggle, and the con- 

 sequent strain on the hook, is weakening the integuments 

 in which it is embedded, and wearing out the hold. Our 

 friend knew all this, and felt himself master of the situa- 

 tion. Avoiding that two common practice of attempting to 

 rouse his fish by jerking on the line, thus doing, much 

 more effectually, what the fish has been trying to do, he 

 shortened the arch of his rod by pointing the but in the 

 direction of the fish, thus increasing the steady pull on his 

 prisoner, and causing him to set every muscle to resist the 

 merciless strain; then drawing the hunting-knife from its 

 sheath at his side, he gave a succession of smart raps upon 

 the but of the rod, sending an electrical thrill down the 

 tense line, so surprising and startling that, despite his cour- 

 age and pluck, he fled amain, in a series of short, irregular, 

 zigzag plunges, and once more headed down stream. 



Constant exertion and the incessant strain had evidently 

 reduced his strength, and his career was now soon checked 

 by a judicious use of the but; in addition to the weight of 

 line he had to draw through the water, the shortened arch 

 of the rod made it more difficult to uncoil the line from the 

 reel, and he soon gave evidence of fatigue. Unable to con- 

 tinue his course, he came to a halt, still resisting to the 

 utmost the strain applied to turn him, and in the struggle 

 to maintain his place we could see the glitter of his silver 

 side — sure -omen of success to the cautious angler. To a 

 steady, careful, persistent, yet gentle strain, he was forced 

 to "give up the position;" slowly but surely the revolving 

 reel shortened the distance between him and his relentless 

 foe. The victory now seemed to us to be won, again our 

 mouths watered at the idea of our delicious breakfast, and 

 we became impatient to see the full length of this brave 

 but conquered hero. Not so Charles. Past experience 

 had taught him that in angling, more than in any other 

 pursuit, there was "many slip 'twix cup and lip/' and that 

 a salmon, especially, was never vanquished while he could 

 wave his tail, more powerful in his death throes than iu 

 life. Carefully, but cautiously, he wound in the line, his 

 eyes never leaving his approaching prize; gradually the 

 distance diminished, the brave fish coming in sideways, 

 until he was within ten yards of the shore. Our trusty 

 canoe-man, George, was ready, gaff in hand, and only- 

 waited a nod from Charles to wade into the water and end 

 the battle. The feeble struggles of the exhausted monarch 

 told that the favorable moment was approaching, and the 

 weary waving of his restless tail was the only indication 

 that the brave old warrior was still alive. The expected 

 nod was given, and George cautiously approached the ap- 

 parently exhausted captive. Waiting till Charles, by dex- 

 terous management, had brought the broad side of the 

 fish directly in front of him, with gaff outstretched, ready 

 to give the final coiqj, he made one step foiward, but in 

 his eagerness, placed his foot upon the round surface of a 

 slippery stone, lost his balance, and in the instinctive move- 

 ment to recover it, brought the gaff down with a splash 

 within a foot of the quiet and unresisting fish. Quick as 

 thought the apparently subdued prisoner darted up stream, 

 making the rod bend and the reel fairly sing with the rapidity 

 of its revolutions. With one glance of indignation at poor, 

 crest-fallen George, our angler, who had never relaxed his 

 care, even in the moment of assured victory, let the fish 

 have his head, knowing that the strength of the current 

 and the weight of the line would soon overcome this last 

 effort of the courageous monarch. The result proved the 

 correctness of his augury. Nobly the gallant fish held his 

 way till at the very foot of the narrow channel near which 

 he was hooked; he had now taken off the reel about thirty 

 yards of line, and to draw this after him in the swift water 

 of the rapid was too much for his exhausted strength. 

 Poising himself a moment on the brink, he made an attempt 

 to shoot the rapid, but being met by the opposing skill of his 

 wary foe, who at this moment shortened the arch of his rod 

 to its quickest curve, by pointing the but directly at him, 

 he fell back, and was carried down by the current. When 

 again brought to the surface, it was evident that fish nature 

 could continue the combat no longer, and fairly exhausted 

 by his last futile efforts to escape his fate, he turned his 

 silver side to the sky and was quickly drawn in to the spot 

 he had so lately left. Our friend Harry, who had watched 

 the battle without a word, but with every feature eloquent 

 with excitement, now seized the gaff, determined that no 

 less worthy hand than his own should give the finishing stroke 

 to this brave warrior. Wading within reach of the nearly 

 lifeless fish, with sure and dexterous stroke he impaled him 

 on the gaff, and walked ashore with the corpse of the gam- 

 est fish that ever gladdened angler's hearts or rewarded 

 skill and coolness." 



A large number of very fine green turtles nave just arrived 

 at this port. 



