374 



RECREATION. 



ship, waiting for the pilot fish to signal him 

 that food is to be had. If you go aloft and 

 look down you can see the monster plainly. 

 Make a rope fast to a piece of salt beef or 

 pork, throw the meat overboard and tow 

 it astern. If the shark is hungry you can 

 bring him under the stern; if very hungry, 

 you can coax him right alongside. That 

 is your chance to drive a harpoon into his 

 back. " Then hook on tackle and hoist 

 him aboard. 



The pilot fish has an oval sucking disk 

 beneath its head. It is also amazingly de- 

 voted to its big friend or patron. When 

 you begin to hoist the shark out of water 

 the pilot fish attach themselves to the 

 monster and come aboard to die with 

 him. 



A shark dies hard, and while he is about 

 it, take care to stand clear of his tail, 

 When he is dead take off his hide, dry it 

 and use it for sandpaper; that's all the 

 creature is good for. 



I have heard shipmates tell of sharks 

 20 and 22 feet long. The largest I ever 

 saw was not over 14 feet. 



Sailors are supposed to do their own 

 washing, mending, etc., but in the mer- 

 chant service they often make the ship act 

 as laundress. They fasten their soiled 

 clothes to a rope and tow them overboard 

 until they are clean, or at least what Jack 

 calls clean. One day I had my wash out 

 on the line. When I went to haul it in it 

 was missing, The next day we harpooned 

 a shark, cut him open and I got my wash 

 ing back. C. L. Herald, Findlay, 0. 



AN OREGON FISH HOG. 



Pat Murphy of our city is a fisherman of tremen- 

 dous ability. Others may catch bigger fish, but for 

 numbers he outclasses his fellows emphatically. Ev- 

 ery day for 2 weeks Pat went to the river and each 

 day returned with a string of little trout reaching into 

 the hundreds. During the season Pat says he has 

 caught 2,744 trout. Last Friday he had a string of 

 144 trout most of them about 6 inches long., although 

 there were a few of larger growth. Pat says he 

 caught them in 2^- hours. A fish a minute seems 

 pretty fast fishing. He uses salmon eggs for bait and 

 gets almost every nibbler. — Rogue River, Ore., 

 Courier. 



I wrote to Murphy, and here is his reply, 

 verbatim et literatim: 



Grant Pass, Ore. 

 Dear Sir: — 



I have received your date of the letter 

 menching whether I caught 144 trout in 

 one day; Yes sir I caught them in two 

 hours and a half. I caught them 2744 in 

 Fifteen days I can prove it by 2000 people 

 in grant's Pass. I am suppose to be the 

 best fisherman in this town and I will some- 

 time send you my picture with a string of 

 trout-— Ranging from 6 inches up to ten 

 pounds You may thinking I am braging 

 but if you where here I would soon prove 

 that I aint I can cast a line with rush a 

 12 ©unce poll 89 feet while in casting a 



small hook of course I aint much hand for 

 catching large fish but little trout from 6 

 to 12 inches I wont take a back seat from 

 nobody Well good Bye Hoping To here 

 from you soom I Remaing yours ever 

 Arthur S. Murphy. 



Supposed to be the best fisherman in 

 your town, eh? I doubt it. I imagine 

 there must be a lot of decent people in a 

 town of 2,000 inhabitants, none of whom 

 would ever think of rating you as a fisher- 

 man, but simply as a low, vulgar brute who 

 would delight in destroying fish and all 

 public property that he could get away 

 with without being arrested and punished 

 After all, such men have their uses. By 

 displaying your swinish instincts you 

 inspire good people to demand the enact- 

 ment of laws to punish such as you, and if 

 you and a few more keep on, Oregon will, 

 one of these days, have a law that will 

 place you behind bars. — Editor. 



A CATFISH KEEPS GUARD. 



My friend, Mr. McVeigh, who is a stu- 

 dent of nature, was camping in the high- 

 lands of Ontario. One bright morning 

 while standing on a log in shallow water, 

 he noticed a small catfish, Antivirus catus, 

 near the log and close to the bed of the 

 lake. 



It seemed hovering over some object of 

 consequence, as it remained in the same 

 position, although McVeigh was in full 

 view. Wondering what the little chap 

 was doing, the interested spectator looked 

 more closely and saw beneath the fish a 

 ball of spawn several inches in diameter. 

 Going to the tent my friend returned with 

 a piece of bread and a bluebottle fly. Rol- 

 ling a moistened crumb in his fingers he 

 dropped it about a foot from the fish. Im- 

 mediately the little guardian darted for 

 the crumb, which he caught before it 

 reached the bottom. Returning to his 

 charge, he spewed out the crumb to one 

 side of the spawn. McVeigh then impaled 

 the fiy on a long straw and gently pushed it 

 toward the fish. Again there was a rush 

 and the fly was caught and carried back to 

 the nest. When released it popped to the 

 surface like a cork and swam away. 



Calling his little spaniel, Mr. McVeigh 

 bade him take the water and walk out to 

 the fish. When within a few feet of the 

 nest the brave little fish darted at the dogs' 

 leg, much to the surprise of doggie. Then 

 McVeigh put the little guard's bravery to 

 a still more severe test. Making a running 

 noose on a piece of string he carefully 

 worked it over the fish's head, and with a 

 quick jerk brought him out on the log 

 beside him. Waiting until he thought 

 the little fellow had about forgotten home 

 and family, he put him in the water on the 



