RECREA TION. 



MUSCALONGE. LUCIUS MASQUINONGY. 



and of unequal length. This is a character 

 which can be relied on. 



In this connection attention may be called 

 to an unfortunate error in labelling the illus- 

 trations of these 2 species on plate 169 of 

 Section 1 of the Fisheries and Fishery In- 

 dustries of the United States. The names 

 should be reversed, the lower figure being 

 the wall-eyed pike and the upper one the 

 sauger. This error has been repeated in 

 several subsequent publications. 



The wall-eyed pike attains a length of 

 about 3 feet and a weight of 10 to 20 

 pounds. It is one of the most important 

 food fishes of the Great Lakes and is in 

 many places a game fish of much impor- 

 tance. This is particularly true in Lake 

 Champlain. In Lake Maxinkuckee and 

 other lakes of Northern Indiana it is much 

 sought as a game fish. 



The muskalonge {Lucius masquinongy) 

 is, of course, a very different sort of fish, as 

 may be seen from the accompanying illus- 

 trations. For the characters distinguishing 

 the muskalonge from other species see Rec- 

 reation for September, 1898. 



THE FIRST BASS OF THE SEASON. 



Pataguonsett is as pretty a little lake as 

 any in Connecticut. As my boat shot out 

 from the Island at an early hour on the 

 morning of July 4th, I drew in my oars and 

 feasted my eyes on the beauty of the scene. 

 The deeply wooded hills to the Westward 

 lay robed in a wreath of gray mist down to 

 the water. Away to the right the bald, 

 rocky cliffs cut a clear outline against the 

 morning sky. Eastward, the scurrying 

 clouds warned me that if I would kill my 

 bass I must start in earnest, before the sun 

 broke through the fleecy vapor. 



We have many big-bass here, but few and 

 far between are the captures, so the choice of 

 bait was a problem. I decided on my Eng- 

 lish minnow — Livesey's, or, more properly, 

 Robinson's, celebrated " Swivel tail " — an 

 artificial used by me with more success than 

 any other bait. With a long, fine, leader at- 

 tached, I let out my minnow and rowed 

 carefully off. Over the first good spot and 

 no strike. I let out more line, until 65 yards 

 separated rod and bait. 



Suddenly the rod tip went down, the reel 



screamed. A good strike, but no bass. How- 

 ever, it proved to be a big white perch, full 

 of fight and shining like silver as he came 

 alongside the boat. Quickly the net went 

 under him and in he came, every fin bris- 

 tling. 



Once more the line went out, and soon his 

 fellow lay in the boat beside him. 



Don't despise the white perch. If you care 

 for honest sport, with an even chance for the 

 fish, take your light fly rod, cast a fly over 

 him in the early morning, and see if he does 

 not prove a foeman worthy of your steel. 



Still I had not found my bass and I felt de- 

 termined to measure skill with one that 

 morning. Around the lake, close to the 

 rocky ledges, along the wooded shores 

 where the water shoaled, I tried, expecting 

 to find Mr. Thymallus in quest of " shiners " 

 for breakfast; but in vain. 



Coming once more to the Island, I headed 

 my boat for the opposite high bank. I 

 rowed 100 yards, and with my eyes on the 

 upped edge of the sun's disk just peeping 

 over the trees, saw, more by intuition than 

 by actual vision, the rod tip dive from a 

 semi-vertical to a horizontal position. Sim- 

 ultaneously, 70 yards behind the boat, a 

 gleaming body of burnished golden green 

 shot into the air 2 feet clear, glittering in the 

 first beam of sunlight. To unship oars, seize 

 rod and reel handle was quick as thought. 

 Long ere the rings around his leap had 

 merged in the surrounding ripples I had 

 my line taut and was ready for the fray. 

 Another magnificent leap, and a headlong 

 rush toward the boat kept me busy with the 

 reel. On he came, until about 40 feet from 

 me. Then another spring, a turn, and a mad 

 dash at express speed away, until he had 

 over 70 yards reeled off. Then he slacked 

 up, collected his wits, and made for the bot- 

 tom of the lake. I held him steady, not too 

 savagely, as yet; for in the first round of the 

 fight it is not well to put on all the strength 

 of rod and leader. The strain told on him, 

 and, inch by inch, I regained him until he 

 once more threw himself out from the water, 

 scattering spray that glittered like diamonds 

 as it fell. 



Thus the fight went on, at long range, for 

 I like best to have the battle fought out well 

 away from the boat, so that when he comes 

 alongside he will be too much exhausted to 

 make a hard struggle to get underneath it. 



