THE OREGON SPORTSMAN rf aE 
As food they are comparatively cheap, very palatable, and are high 
in nutritive quality. The extent of the industry may be judged by the 
statement that in 1915 there were caught in the various Pacifie Coast 
fisheries four hundred and thirty-five million pounds of salmon, with a 
value of eight million six hundred thousand dollars. 
THE PLEASURES OF ANGLING 
By GEORGE DAWSON, in American Angler, 
To al you that been vertuous: gentyll: and free 
borne I wryte and make this symple treatise fol- 
owynge: by whyche ye may have the full craft of 
anglynge to dysport you at your lufte, to the 
entent that your aege may the more floure and 
the longer to endure.—(Treatise of Fysshynge with 
an Angle, 1496.) 
ing his deeds of valor, the rehearsal at some time becomes monot- 
onous. Not that a true angler ever passes the line which takes 
him into the land of ailment and decrepitude. It is the glory of the art 
that its disciples never grow old. The muscles may relax and the 
beloved rod become a burden, but the fire of enthusiasm kindled in 
youth is never extinguished. The time, however, does come when one 
is reluctant to parade the sources of even his innocent pleasures, except, 
perhaps, to those ‘‘simple wisemen’’ whom he knows to be in sympathy 
with him, and who can appreciate the too generally unappreciated truth 
that that pleasure is only worthy the pursuit of men or of angels which 
‘*worketh no evil.’’ 
Although my last was my thirty-fifth annual visit to favorite 
angling waters, it was anticipated with greater interest and with higher 
hopes of quiet enjoyment than any which had preceded it. And this, 
as all biography teaches, has been the experience of all true lovers of 
the angle. Sir Humphrey Davy retained his enthusiasm to the last. 
When, like Jacob, he had to lean heavily upon his staff, the author of 
‘*Noctes Ambrosiana’’ would wade his favorite streams with all the 
pleasure of his early manhood; and long after every other delight had 
waxed and waned, this remained as the veritable elixir of perpetual 
youth. ‘‘Kit North’s’’ daughter (Mrs. Gordon) gives this charming 
picture of him when a hopeless invalid: 
WY ise ise pleasure a veteran may find in occasionally recount- 
“And then he gathered around him, when the spring morning brought 
gay jets of sunshine into the little room where he lay, the relics of a youth- 
ful passion, one that with him never grew old. It was an affecting sight to 
see him busy, nay, quite absorbed, with the fishing tackle about his bed, 
propped up with pillows—his noble head, yet glorious with its flowing locks, 
carefully combed by attentive hands, and falling on each side of his unfaded 
face. How neatly he picked out each elegantly dressed fly from its little 
bunch, drawing it with trembling hand across the white coverlet, and then, 
replacing it in his pocket-book, he would tell, ever and anon, of the streams 
he used to fish in of old, and of the deeds he had performed in his childhood 
and youth.”’ 
_And the experience of the past is that of today—not among the 
eminent alone, but among the lowly as well, who find pure delight and 
refreshing recreation in quiet forests and by the side of crystal waters, 
