FISH AND FISHING. 



221 



And, Stranger, ere thy life is done 

 If thou wouldst hear such strain 

 That once o'er all this earth did run, 

 And filled our land from sun to sun 

 With wild and sad refrain, 



Go, ere these chimings are no more 



Within our rugged hills; 

 Go, ere humanity doth pour 

 Into these wilds; with thund'rous roar 



The vale and canyon fills. 



Go, ere the tree doth cease to wave 



For now thy chance is given; 

 Be not unto the world a slave, 

 But bear this music to thy grave, 

 To make thee fit for Heaven. 



Edward H. Butler. 



A LARGE BLACKFISH. 



Stoughton, Mass. 



Editor Recreation: Some of your read- 

 ers may be interested in learning of the 

 capture of a large tautog. It was the re- 

 sult of 15 years' study of the habits of salt 

 water " bottom fish." I fish with rod and 

 reel, and have caught nearly all kinds of 

 fresh water fishes found in New England 

 waters. They are, in my opinion, easier to 

 take than tautog, sea bass, turbot and the 

 smaller salt water species. 



I caught my big tautog with what are 

 known in the vicinity of Buzzard's bay as 

 squeaker crabs. The morning was fine, and 

 low slack water served about 6 o'clock. I 

 was on my fishing grounds by 4 a.m., that 

 I might be on the spot when both wind and 

 tide would be in the same direction. There 

 is a hole, surrounded by rocks, in the 

 channel between Marshney and Toby isl- 

 ands; and if you can get a bait in there, on 

 a young flood, you are pretty sure of a big 

 fish. I got in exact position and had 

 caught a fine mess. When about to return 

 I espied, in the skiff, a crab about the size 

 of a silver dollar. That was too much of a 

 temptation. I resolved that that crab 

 should be the last bait. I put it on the 

 hook, gave it a cast, and felt it slip over 

 the rocks into the hole. 



In a few minutes there was a slight pull 

 at the line, and I awaited developments. A 

 tautog has to crush the crab before swal- 

 lowing it; and you must not try to strike 

 until you feel the fish moving off. A 

 strong, steady pull came, and I struck. 

 These fish fight to get under the rocks; 

 and though I gave as little line as possible, 

 he succeeded in getting there, some 30 feet 

 up stream. I felt my lead drag over the 

 side of a rock, and there it hung. Fearing 

 my line would chafe, I pulled the skiff 

 ahead, by the anchor line, to get a clear 

 chance to pull the fish out. It is no use 

 to try to net a large tautog, until he is 

 practically dead; for when he sees the net 



he will struggle, and your lead will foul 

 with the mesh. 



When I got him into the skiff I pulled 

 for the shore, and weighed him. He tipped 

 the scales at io^4 pounds. Prof. Gill says 

 the average weight is but 2 pounds. This 

 was the largest tautog ever caught in that 

 vicinity, with rod and reel; and I believe, 

 larger than any taken by hand line. 



D. S. H. 



HOW IT FEELS. 



C. S. HUNT. 



The sensation of hooking a big muska- 

 longe, when a light rod is used, is peculiar. 

 You are going along rather more briskly 

 than in trolling for bass. The tip of your 

 rod sways, and the guide at the end of it 

 vibrates with the motion of the spoon. 



The bright, circling object in the water 

 attracts the notice of a fish. He darts for 

 the glittering thing, and as his jaws close 

 on the hooks, the angler feels the tighten- 

 ing of the line and a pull on the reel. His 

 first impression, if he is a novice, is that 

 he has struck a snag. It is only for an 

 instant, however. 



Looking toward the end of the line, he 

 sees the waves part, and a huge curled-up 

 body break the surface and rise a foot or 

 more in the air. The line tightens, the rod' 

 bends, and, as the huge fish splashes back, 

 the line is kept taut by the angler. With 

 weight and momentum both working, the 

 frantic fish seeks the bottom, and sulks or 

 else darts from one side to the other with 

 wonderful quickness. 



Then a freak will seize him, and he will 

 rush through the water, toward the boat; 

 sometimes making another break into the 

 air as he does so. 



With thumb pressed on the reel, and 

 with rod bent so as to keep the line taut, 

 the angler meets the rush. When, how- 

 ever, the fish- runs toward the rod, the 

 reel will often not wind quickly enough, 

 and the boatman has to pull with all his 

 might, away from the fish. 



If the muskalonge is well hooked, a line 

 kept taut will always secure him. It is only 

 a question of tiring him out. If he is not 

 well hooked he is apt, in one of his breaks, 

 to tear the spoon out. 



The fish will at times, after rushing to- 

 ward the boat, reverse himself and start 

 in the opposite direction. Then the reel- 

 ing-in stops, and the thumb pressure on 

 the reeled line acts as a drag. 



In a few seconds the line begins to 

 slacken, and the fish, exhausted by his ef- 

 forts, floats upon the surface of the water. 

 If he is small, he may be easily reeled in 

 and jerked into the boat; but if, say from 8 

 pounds upward, much manoeuvring is 

 necessary. Just when you think the fish is 

 about dead, he will make a spring into the 



