QUEER BAIT" 



32 1 



which I must acknowledge fishing was for- 

 bidden). Arriving before daybreak, and 

 finding difficulty in threading my line on 

 my pole, in the darkness I fished hard and 

 faithfully with my standby, "the worm," 

 till the day broke, catching only two small 

 bass, and as the sun rose, and the morning 

 grew warm, and the grasshoppers hopped, 

 I secured a few to see if I might have better 

 luck. I hooked one on, carefully, leaving 

 him as natural as possible and I cast and 

 cast my prettiest, without result. I then 

 (becoming careless) hooked on another, 

 the weight of which enabled me 10 cast it 

 further. Ambition then overtook me, and 

 I jammed on a third, and then a fourth, 

 regardless of bait, simply to see how far I 

 really could cast. I made a beautiful throw 

 with the big bunch of hoppers, when to 

 my surprise there was a rise and a swell, 

 and my bait disappeared and luck of feel- 

 ing the bite of a good black bass was 

 mine. I allowed his bass-ship to imagine 

 the bait was his, to the extent of about six 

 feet of line, then I twitched him, and after 

 thirty-five minutes landed a two and one- 

 half pounder; not large, but game, and 

 only to prove that a mutilated mass of legs 

 and wings attracted the fish, when the 

 carefully hooked single, natural grass- 

 hopper did not. I mention this as it leads 

 up to such strange experiences in later life. 

 We have all fished for speckled trout, when 

 they would take nothing but the fly, also 

 when they would take nothing but worms. 

 When a boy after trout, if I ran out of 

 worms I would hook on a couple of the 

 eyes from the trout I had caught, making 

 excellent bait to help fill my creel. Those 

 were the days I shall never forget. From 

 the age of six to the age of sixteen I was 

 fortunate enough to be taken by my father 

 to Keene Valley, in the Adirondack^. The 

 Ausable River, and the many beautiful 

 brooks (its tributaries) were still well filled 

 with the speckled beauties, and what bitter 

 resentment I felt toward the first old pro- 

 fessional that appeared on the scene. He 

 was an old Scotch schoolmaster and one of 

 the typical old cranks that ignored the 

 common angleworm ; such a thing was be- 

 neath him. It was, to a true sportsman, 

 like shooting a game bird before it took 

 wing. He had no end of flies, in all varieties, 



not only for every month but for almost 

 every hour of the day. He would select 

 them out so carefully, and tell exactly why 

 the trout were so anxiously waiting to snap 

 at certain colored flies at certain moments. 

 He would look with disgust on the farmer's 

 boy, myself and the worms, but we caught 

 ten fish to his one with the old standby bait. 



One fact that has always struck me most 

 peculiarly and no doubt most other fisher- 

 men, was no matter where you travel for 

 the sport, whether from one State to an- 

 other, or in many cases from one county to 

 another, whether salt or fresh water fish, 

 you will find the methods and the baits 

 used to capture the identical same species 

 entirely different. In one lake they will fish 

 most successfully with live frog for large 

 mouth bass, in the next lake helgramite will 

 be the bait. In one section, trolling will 

 be the only way to inveigle the bass, in an- 

 other only deep, or still fishing will secure 

 them. Artificial bait, such as flies, frogs, 

 minnows, grasshoppers, helgramites, etc., 

 will lure the fish in many lakes, where such 

 frauds are useless in others. In the last 

 few remarks I refer to large and small- 

 mouth bass and pickerel, more especially, 

 but the same conditions obtain with many 

 other species and with other baits. 



While in Florida, a few years ago, at 

 Palm Beach, I fished at Fresh Water Lake, 

 for large-mouth bass, and live minnow, was 

 the only bait known. We still-fished from 

 a small boat, using light tackle, pole and 

 float, hooking the minnow through the 

 entre of the back under the dorsal fin, and 

 casting off into the open bits of water 

 among the lily pads. 



From Palm Beach I went to Deer Field, 

 Florida, only thirty-five miles away, and 

 here fished with the spoon troll, and also 

 the artificial minnow, and strangest of all 

 with the tip end of a deer's tail; nothing 

 but the tip I was told would answer. It was 

 the red hair with the white tip wound 

 round a hook, fly fashion. This was hand- 

 led with a common long stiff bamboo pole, 

 and only about three or four feet of line ex- 

 tending from the end, and was skipped 

 with a stiff motion from side to side, the 

 switch of the pole supplying the motion. 

 What insect it was supposed to imitate I 

 could not find out, but it fooled the largest 



