48 



RECREATION. 



and then struck another with a deft press- 

 ure on the rod, and landed him." 



A hint for amateurs: Always strike your 

 fish with a deft pressure, and you've got 

 him. This particular bass weighed 36 

 ounces, and " in 10 minutes, 3 more went 

 into his creel." Tolerably swift work; and 

 I might hazard the observation that bass 

 fishers don't usually use a creel. It is likely, 

 however, Mr. B. had a clothes basket 

 strapped on his back, and thought it was a 

 creel. This might readily be inferred, if he 

 put that 5 pound 7 ounce bass in it; the one 

 he took with a big butterfly. Another 

 pointer for beginners: Bait with a big but- 

 terfly — no given color — and you'll always 

 get bass of 5 pounds 7 ounces in weight, es- 

 timated. Then, 150 feet is quite a good run 

 for a bass to make, up stream, in such a 

 swiftly running water as the Au Sable. Mr. 

 Blackwell " raised a blister by thumbing his 

 reel " — probably he meant " creel." I won- 

 der he didn't blister his tongue at the same 

 time. 



What a stream the Au Sable must be, for 

 variety. Mr. B. says " As I landed the 

 fourth, my companions came with a pike, 

 a pickerel, and 2 bass." Why not say, a red 

 snapper, a pompano and 2 tarpons? Just 

 think of a stream where you can catch 

 brook trout, grayling, rainbow trout, pike, 

 pickerel, bass, and snapping turtles! Now, 

 does not Mr. B. know there are no pike, 

 pickerel or bass in the Au Sable? If he 

 don't know it let him ask and he will find 

 that " Biking for Bass " is all wind, and I 

 am trying to let some of it out of his tire. 

 Back in the early 70's the Au Sable was full 

 of grayling, called by the natives " Sable 

 river trout." There were literally thou- 

 sands of the fish in the stream. 



When it became known they were really 

 grayling, market fishers and anglers, from 

 all over the country, fished it so persistently 

 that in a few years its waters were almost 

 depleted of this magnificent fish. Then 

 brook trout got a foot hold — or probably a 

 " tail hold " in the stream, and ran out most 

 of the remaining grayling. A few years ago 

 some California rainbow trout were planted 

 in it, and at the present time, the grayling 

 fishing there is almost a thing of the past. 

 Some of the rainbow trout are taken, of 

 large size, and perhaps Mr. B. don't know 

 the difference between one of these and a 

 bass — if he caught any fish at all — which is 

 not probable. The Au Sable is a cold and 

 rapid stream, well suited to the habits of 

 trout and grayling; but it is not the kind of 

 water that bass, pike, pickerel or " snap- 

 ping turtles " affect, and there are none in 

 it. 



The yarns about the " Major " snaring a 

 big snapping turtle, and about the stray 

 dog making a lunch on raw fish, to say 

 nothing of the antics of the steer with the 

 bike on his horns, are too infantile to de- 

 serve punishment. If Mr. B. tries again, he 



should confine himself to matters he knows 

 a little about. I rather enjoy good, old 

 fashioned fish lies, but " Biking for Bass n 

 is a little too much for even a credulous 



Old Mossback. 



ON THE GUNNISON. 



DAVID BRUCE. 



I had just settled down comfortably in 

 my cabin, after changing my clothing, for 

 I had received a thorough wetting from the 

 storm that afternoon, when in came Tom 

 Rogers, with a nice string of trout. He 

 hunted up the fryingpan and the fish were 

 soon cooking. I had resolved to make shift 

 with some cold ham for supper, and was 

 only waiting for the coffee to boil before 

 commencing my meal. However, the old 

 fellow and the fish were both welcome. He 

 is one of those shiftless individuals who can 

 be found in every community. He is always 

 sober and good tempered, and his quaint 

 tales, told in his quiet drawling way, make 

 him an amusing companion. A patient 

 fisherman and knowing the best resorts for 

 trout in the Gunnison valley, he is in con- 

 siderable demand as a guide; especially for 

 people who prefer a quiet outing with no 

 excitement or exertion. On this particular 

 evening my friend was on the best of terms 

 with himself, for the fish had behaved well, 

 and he had escaped the furious storm that 

 had so drenched me, by crawling under an 

 old bridge. The yarns of his own exploits 

 are long and frequent but generally tame, 

 and free from anything like exaggeration; 

 but when he talks about his grandfather's 

 achievements then it is a tale indeed! He 

 evidently believes these ancestral legends 

 most thoroughly, and as it is about as easy 

 to believe an improbable tale, as to prove 

 it false, I never intimate a doubt. 



Supper over, I was attending to some en- 

 tomological specimens I had caught the 

 evening before. I had been explaining to 

 my visitor the virtues of molasses and rum 

 as a bait for moths, and he had listened with 

 the greatest attention. 



" Yes," he said, " Grandfa' alius said 

 there was sich things, if we knowed of 'em, 

 that would entice any livin' thing. Some of 

 the old Injuns knowed of charms and sich 

 like, that would fetch any kind of game any 

 time. Grandfa' told me one thing I'll never 

 forgit. Ye see, it was like this — Granfa' 

 was up on White river, with the Utes, one 

 season. They was huntin' and fishin', an' 

 Granfa' said he never had a better time in 

 his life. One of the Injuns was particular 

 partial to Granfa' and give him a little bot- 

 tle of what he called fishcharm, and told 

 him if he put some on his bait or rubbed 

 his hook with it, he could alius ketch all the 

 fish he wanted. Granfa' put the bottle in a 

 small tin box he used to keep bait in, and 

 put it in his pocket, and forgot all about 

 it for a year or 2. 



