28 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[July 18, 1895. 



\m zt\d ^faffing. 



A DAY WITH M. SALMOIDES. 



Aboard! And we are pulling out from St. Paul, Minn., 

 over the Great Northern Railway, for a day with M, sal- 

 moides at Lake Minnetonka, the "we" being my brother 

 Harry and myself, both also claiming the relationship of 

 "brothers of the angle," as quaint Uncle Ike puts it. 



A pleasant run of an hour or so lands us a,t Spring Park 

 station. Mine host Hopkins, of the Hotel del Otero, soon 

 has us fixed out with boat and frogs, and we pull out 

 from the dock in the teeth of a sou'wester that makes the 

 white foam curl on the crest of each blue wave we ride. 

 Ere reaching the point where our fishing is to be done, 

 we notice dark thunder clouds advancing toward us dead 

 against the wind. For once our storm coats are left 

 behind, and we debate the question whether to make for 

 shore or risk a wetting where we are. A rattling peal of 

 thunder and a few heavy rain drops decide us, and we 

 make for the land, drag our ship up the beach, and, prop- 

 ping it on edge with an oar, are soon seated dry and com- 

 fortable beneath it, smoking our pipes and arguing the 

 question of hooks, reels, leaders, etc. For half an hour 

 the rain beats in torrents against our improvised tent, 

 but we are masters of the situation and heed it net. 



Ere long the worst has phased, and we rig our craft anew 

 and put our tackle in ord^r. Here is my idea for a bass- 

 casting rig for Minnesota or Wisconsin lakes: Rod, two- 

 joint, 7ift. long, or slightly shorter, weight about 8oz., 

 rather stiffish action. Reel, quadruple multiplying, the 

 finest your purse will allow. Line, moderate-sized raw 

 silk, tested to a breaking strain of lOlbs. or better. It will 

 surely lose some strength though dried and wiped ever 

 so carefully, and a strong line is needed for a 41b. basB 

 when he finds the weeds. Now, just here is where I use 

 my own little device. Others may have employed the 

 same, but I have never seen it used except on my own 

 tackle. It is very simple — just a couple of lengths of silk- 

 worm gut (so-called), stained mist color, and tied as a 

 short leader, say lain. long. In one end I fasten my line, 

 in the other a Sproat or Carlisle-Kirby 4-0 snelled hook. 



I confess to being somewhat "on the fence" as to the 

 respective merits of straight or side-bent hooks. For 

 years I religiously followed and continually preached Dr. 

 Henshall's practice of using Sproat hooks, No. 1 or 1-0 for 

 minnows and a trifle larger for frogs, but have recently 

 been putting the "Kirby" bend to a series of actual tests 

 in the water, and am inclined so far to think it hooks as 

 many or possibly more fish than my old straight hooks. 



For sinkers, when necessary, as they always are with a 

 large frog in deep water, I use the handy patent spiral 

 ends placed on the line just above the "leader." These 

 18in. or so of gut make almost invisible the connection 

 between your frog or minnow and the fishes' arch enemy, 

 man. I have in an actual test with this method of rig- 

 ging the cast hooked two fish to my comrade's one, all 

 other conditions being precisely similar. 



But to return to our mutton, or rather fish. The storm 

 has passed, and leaves a dead calm with blazing sun over- 

 head. Casting is well nigh useless, but we coast up and 

 down the rushes in various depths of water, and keep our 

 lines wet for hours; but in vain. Then we give up and 

 take to smoking for solace, and whistle for a breeze. 



At last the water ripples under a rising west wind. 



Now for the edge of the bar. We anchor in 4ft. of 

 water, while a few rods in front it deepens suddenly to 

 about 20ft. 



Harry drops a frog lightly on the water 80ft. away, al- 

 lows it to sink almost to the bottom, and reels slowly in. 

 "Here we are!" He exclaims, and drops the handle of his 

 reel. Out goes about 20ft. of line, then a stop, the point 

 of the rod is raised a trifle, Salmoides feels the restraint 

 and away buzzes the reel again. A good 30ft. runs out 

 when the angler takes a hand. A short strike sets the 

 hook firmly and the concert begins. The reel sings as 

 the click button is shoved over, and the rod transferred to 

 the left hand. "Keep your rod up!" I cry, for Harry is a- 

 Colorado mountain trout angler, used to brush streams, 

 and this is his first bass season. 



The bamboo doubles up like a whip, and cree-e-ee the 

 reel sings again. "He's a whale!" says Harry, and egad! 

 I almost believe him. Now a long tack to the right and 

 the line hisses as he "gives the butt," for that way He 

 weeds and danger. For half a minute it is touch and go, 

 then very slowly the tip of the rod rises, and the line is as 

 slowly recovered. 



Suddenly it slackens and a peculiar "lifting" motion 

 seems to possess it. Experience tells me what to expect 

 and I caution Harry to keep the line taut and the rod 

 bent, when with a rush and a splash there springs above 

 the surface a flashing mass of green and gold, the water 

 dripping from it in a shower of diamonds, and the crim- 

 son jaws and gills blazing in the sunlight. Harry is wild. 

 "Gosh!" he exclaims, "ain't that out o' sight?" It is al- 

 most his first sight of the leap of a Silbs. bass, and those 

 who know the beauty of that thrilling leap for liberty (or, 

 as Dr. Ellzey has it, from "fright") will appreciate his ex- 

 clamation. 



So the fun goes on. Up and down the brave fish 

 dashes, ever and anon vaulting above the water, with 

 armored sides and red jaws flashing like jewels. Tiring 

 at last he comes slowly along near the surface. When he 

 catches sight of the boat he makes a bold dash in an at- 

 tempt to get under it. Harry cleverly swings his rod 

 around the stern and foils his' little strategy. One more 

 wild hum of the reel and he turns his "snowy breastplate" 

 (Henshall) to the sky, the landing net slips under him and 

 rescues him from oblivion. As he touches the bottom of 

 the boat the hook drops from a long tear in his lip and 

 Harry gasps at the narrow escape. 



Three pounds and a half by the pocket scales and per- 

 fect in scale and fin, a magnificent fish, and one to make 

 any angler proud of his trophy. 



Though an old bass fisherman I am distinctly "not in 

 it" to-day, and Harry "wipes my eye" in most approved 

 style, hooking two more bass and several pickerel, while 

 I vainly drop my frog on every inch of water within a 

 circle of 90ft. 



The two bass scale 3f and 3jlbs. respectively and the 

 pickerel average about 31bs. apiece. The latter we kill 

 and give to some boys who shout in boyish glee over the 

 "big suckers." 



At last my turn comes and I get a genuine bass "strike." 

 I let him have it and he takes 10 or 15ft,, then check him 

 slightly, but a succession of short jerks tells me he is not 

 yet satisfied and 15ft. more go under water. Then I put 



on the click and check him again, now it's a steady pull, 

 so, "Give it to him!" Harry cries, and I strike him hard. 

 Te gods! what a run! 



The reel fairly screams, and the line just melts off from 

 the spool. And see! Away out in the water, 40 good 

 yards away, flashes the well-known crimson and gold in 

 a setting of diamonds, but the line is taut and he gains 

 nothing by the leap. I fancy I hear critics say, "Shows 

 how much that fellow knows about 'playing' a baes," 

 "He should 'drop the point of the rod,' etc. 



I take off my hat to dozens of well-known names in 

 the angling fraternity, Dr. Henshall included, who has 

 forgotten more about bass than I ever expect to know, 

 but nevertheless I say, keep your line taut, first and last 

 and all the time, when there is a large-mouth bass at the 

 end of it. I have lost plenty of bass in various ways, as 

 every angler has, but I recall but one that I lost through 

 "falling on a taut line." 



Meantime M. Salmoides has been cavorting around 

 there in fine style, while Harry sits idly on the boat seat 

 holding the landing net on his knees. Maybe "basso" is 

 "sulking," but he is down there somewhere doing any- 

 thing but what a well-conducted bass should, so I take 

 the disgorger and rap on the butt of my rod, salmon 

 fashion, a telegram to "Get up and dust," and he does. 



What a series of rushes and leaps and wild breaks for 

 liberty that make the reel-plates hot from friction (?), but 

 finally the steady strain of even a litt, 8oz. rod tells on 

 him, and with a last ineffectual spurt when close to the 

 boat — which, however, finds me expecting it, and ready 

 to foil his final effort — he joins his comrades, the top of 

 the string and the topper in weight — 4 square solid pounds 

 of glistening paradise. 



The shades of evening are now closing in and our 

 wrists and our elbows ache from the steady eight hours 

 of casting, so we unjoint our rods, pack up our smaller 

 tackle and pull for the boat landing. 



Just four bass, but they run 4,' 3|, 3J, 3J-lbs., and that's 

 glory enough for me for one afternoon, even if Harry is 

 "high hook" in point of numbers, and I can only plead 

 guilty to the 4-pounder. 



Minnetonka, especially the north end, abounds with 

 such bass, and many are the days that our modest string 

 has been excelled, possibly not in individual and average 

 weight of fish, but at any rate in numbers. 



But we are content. It isn't the fishing for count that 

 gives the pleasure. It's to match your skill against your 

 brave antagonist and by pure generalship bring him to 

 bag. 



And so we return home with the memory of the song 

 of the birds and the music of the reel in our ears, the 

 clear blue of the sky and water, the vivid green of the 

 beautiful verdured shores, the "cloudy pinnacles" of the 

 snowy cumulus and the flashing crimson and gold of the 

 armored bass before our eyes, and say together in unison, 

 as we strike our "ranch" at 1:30 A. M., "We had a bully 

 time!" 



Don't you think so? W. L. Agnew. 



St. Paul, Minn., June 25. 



SMALL BOY AND BIG TROUT. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Having recently returned from a brief fishing trip to 

 Plymouth, N. H., I make, as in duty bound, my report to 

 Forest and Stream. 



After the first few fishing trips I found brook trout to 

 be very abundant, but much smaller than I had expected 

 to find them Of the fifty trout which I caught, the result 

 of one day'& fishing, I wa3 compelled to quickly return to 

 the water twenty on account of their diminutive size. 

 For the past thirty years I have fished in these regions 

 almost every year, and find to my delight that trout are 

 as abundant as ever, which, of course, iB due to the re- 

 stocking of the brooks and lakes from time to time. 



About two years ago I fished in a brook about five miles 

 from Plymouth, and found quite a number of salmon 

 trout, but this year I felt keenly disappointed on finding 

 that they had all disappeared. These trout were, on an 

 average, from 6 to Sin. long, and this year I had expected 

 to find some of considerable size, and my disappointment 

 was very great when I discovered that all had vanished. 



My luck has always been pretty good on the East 

 Branch of the Pemegewassett River, a branch of the 

 main river, which leaves it at Woodstock, N. H.. about 

 five miles south of the Franconia Mountains. My visit to 

 New Hampshire being necessarily short this year, I did 

 not have time to take in this stream. Those desiring to 

 visit these wild, beautiful regions and fish in the many, 

 lakes and brooks which are so abundantly supplied with 

 fish, will find now the best time of the year in which 

 to go. 



From Boston take the train for North Woodstock. At 

 this place there is a hotel — the Deer Park. Follow the 

 stream up from here, passing through one of the wildest 

 woods you ever entered. After a five-mile tramp up the 

 stream trout maybe found, but the deeper into the woods 

 you go the better luck you will have. A party of four, 

 including myself, spent two very delightful weeks on this 

 stream several years ago and had all the trout we desired. 



Great sport is being had on Newfound Lake, N. H., 

 catching trout and salmon. The great abundance of 

 these fish is surprising, as is also their size. Many have 

 been captured weighing from 6 to 121bs. , but Frank I. 

 Cross, of Bristol, N. H,, a lad of but fifteen years, broke 

 all previous records by his wonderful adventure with a 

 trout while fishing in this lake. 



On May 20 he had been out rowing the boat for several 

 hours, for a city man to troll, but without success, and 

 finally the fisherman left the boat and returned home. 



The boy then concluded to try it alone. He trolled 

 slowly for an hour, when suddenly his line refused to 

 move with the boat. His first thought was that he had 

 struck a snag, and he began to back water. Just then a 

 mighty fish leaped from the water, and with a big splash 

 headed toward the boat. The situation was no ordinary 

 one. To handle the line and boat too was more than 

 enough for an experienced fisherman, but the boy, 

 although somewhat "rattled," did not lose nerve, but 

 reeled in as fast as possible, getting the trout quite near 

 the boat, when away he went for another one hundred 

 feet. Thus he continued to play him for fully twenty 

 minutes. 



Finally the boy succeeded in getting the ponderous fish 

 near the boat in a very much exhausted condition. The 

 excited boy now began to think about landing him. In 

 holding the line and reaching for the gaff hook, he 

 slipped and pitched headlong into the boat. Recovering 



his equilibrium, and when the fish was within reach, he 

 struck him with the gaff, but too far back in the body to 

 be sure of landing him. He drew it out and struck him 

 once more. This time he fetched the fish into the boat, 

 but even then there was danger that he might flop out 

 and get away, and so the plucky lad laid on him to keep 

 him quiet. 



The fish was weighed three hours after being taken 

 from the water, pulling the scales down to 201bs and 6oz. 

 It was 35in. long, measured 21Mn. around the body, was 

 lOin. deep, 6in. across the tail and 4in. across the head. 

 It was indeed a beauty. 



To catch a 121bs. trout with a man to handle the boat 

 for you is no easy trick, but for an inexperienced youth 

 to capture this monster alone was much more difficult, 

 and the persevering boy deserves much credit in my es- 

 timation. DR. M. 



Philadelphia, Pa., July 1. 



MORE ABOUT LEAPING BASS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



It would seem cruel and pitiless to cast another stone 

 through the glass house erected by Dr. Ellzey, and so per- 

 forated by "Kingfisher" in his letter published in your 

 issue of June 29. 



Dear Kingfisher! — that article was a "sockdolager;" it 

 reminded me of how you flayed alive that Black Lake 

 chap and left so little of his original physiognomy that 

 even his mother refused to recognize him. 



But a thought or two occurs on this subject of the 

 "leaping bass" that is suggested by Dr. Ellzey 's proffered 

 excuses in behalf of those whom he seems to consider the 

 victims of weird hallucinations and as grossly ignorant 

 or willfully perverse; and that is, I seriously doubt 

 whether Dr. Ellzey ever caught a black bass in his life. I 

 don't question his sincerity. I don't doubt his honesty. I 

 don't challenge his good intentions. But as "the eyesight 

 is the most deceptive of our senses," it is fairly to be in- 

 ferred from his description of the fish he saw, of his con- 

 trol over them by "lowering the tip of his rod" and 

 "slackening of his line," and by their failure to do what 

 scores of fishermen have seen them do, that he has mis- 

 taken some other fish for the black bass. He has, 

 in part, been exerting the muscles of his wrist and fore- 

 arm on mud cats — a fish that naturally infest the bottom 

 — and in part been playing mongrels of som rt that are 

 given to describing Hogarthian curves in tl r and fall- 

 ing with mathematical exactness inside a boat and not 

 beyond it. 



Nor can we, on reflection, be sure the Doctor ever saw 

 these mongrels leap from the water, for he himself says, 

 "A bass is above water so short a time you can't see him 

 open his mouth or shake his head." Therefore it is to 

 be presumed Dr. Ellzey mistook a flash of sunlight or a 

 glimmer on the pool or a curl of smoke from his pipe as 

 he sat in his easy chair on the bank and dreamed dreams 

 of the bass he read ^of in the books — he deemed these 

 optical illusions as actual bass — in the body and not of 

 the spirit. 



"The eyesight is the most deceptive of our senses" is 

 not the tentative but the absolute dogma that settles the 

 discussion with Dr. Ellzey in the matter of leaping bass; 

 not bis eyesight, but the eyesight of other bass fishermen. 

 This is pedantry. 



Doesn't Dr. Ellzey know that the line that divides the- 

 ory from fact or logical demonstration is the number of 

 particulars that constitute the premises of his argument? 

 Doesn't he further know that many a man has been 

 justly hung on the proof of what witnesses saw with 

 their eyes— "the most deceptive of the senses" — and not 

 upon what others didn't see? 



His testimony is simply negative and therefore incon- 

 clusive. He never saw a bass open his mouth above the 

 water; therefore he says they don't do it. He never saw 

 a bass shake his head when leaping, nor jump over a 

 boat, nor describe other than a beautiful curve above the 

 surface; therefore he says they don't do it. 



The writer never saw a live whale, nor a dead elephant, 

 but he would not affirm that such things don't exist. He 

 is willing to take the testimony of others. 



As to the quickness of the eyesight. A bolt of light- 

 ning draws a line along the sky in less time than a fish 

 takes in his leap above the water. Yet we can discern 

 whether the electric line is straight or crooked. 



Two race horses, at lightning speed, cross the string at 

 the winning post a nose apart, and yet the judges easily 

 pick out the winner. It is done in the twentieth of a 

 second. 



The hunter catches lightning aim onj the flying bird 

 across his path and kills it, and he knows the sights of 

 his gun caught the bird fair and full. 



The eye is quick and alert — quicker than the fish that 

 even at times delays its stay above the surface to shake 

 out the hook with open jaws and vigorous muscles. 



Less than ten years ago, on the salt shoals of Cumber- 

 land River, I saw a bass that had taken from me nearly 

 30ft. of broken line leap nearly perpendicularly upward 

 to escape its trailing trouble. . This action was 

 repeated, and following him into shallow water I finally 

 caught the line and captured the fish. 



In Doak's Mill Dam on Dix River, in Boyle County, Ky. , 

 I saw a party seining for suckers, cats and bass. The 

 seine was sevetv feet high and 100yds, long. They were 

 passing a subm erged tree top, full of green leaves, near 

 the bank, when some one got on it and gave a vigorous 

 shake. A dozen bass leaped from the cover like sheep, 

 several passing over the top of the seine and one over the 

 head of the man holding the right brail. The latter 

 cleared the water at least four feet. 



The capabilities of fish in their leaping powers are 

 scarcely collated. Gen. Geo. B. Crittenden stated to me 

 that while stationed on regular duty near the Rio Grande, 

 in Texas, he saw a number of fish ascend a perpendicular 

 fall nearly or quite twenty feet high. They seemed to 

 take a running jump, and striking the face of the fall 

 worked their way up — many failing in the attempt, but 

 a few succeeding. His opinion was that they worked 

 their fins more rapidly than the water's descent, and 

 gained a fulcrum that assisted them upward, taking the 

 surface and avoiding the heavier downpour. I don't 

 think Gen. Crittenden said these fish were bass, and 

 therefore Dr. Ellzey is released from repeating his favorite 

 expression that "the eyesight is the most deceptive of 

 the senses." 



I am afraid Dr. Ellzey fishes from a stool; that he fishes 

 with preconceived notions and an eternal opinion; that 

 he fishes for mud-cat, eels and the market: that he has no 



