FOREST AND STREAM. 



[AW. 18, 1887, 



WHY WE FISH WITH THE FLY. 



IT is not infrequent that some one, laboring under the 

 delusion that it is all of fishing to catch fish, writes to 

 the editor of this paper a letter in which he sets forth his 

 views in regard to the "fly lunatic," and implies that fly- 

 fishing is all right as a science, but is not worth much to 

 catch fish; and that all fly-fishermen, when alone, do not 

 hesitate to use anything as a lure, provided it will be suc- 

 cessful. While in some instances this notion may be cor- 

 rect, still I think a large majority of fly-fishermen fish in 

 this manner because they derive moi'e enjoyment from it, 

 and because it is more in harmony with their surround- 

 ings. 



It has occurred to me, while I have watched gentlemen 

 fishing, that the temperament of the individual has a 

 great, although not recognized, influence on the move- 

 ments of the fisherman. While the habits of the profes- 

 sional or guide are moulded by their occupation, and their 

 temperament must necessarily be influenced or changed 

 by their habits, those of the pleasure seeker, whose time 

 is limited to a few days or a few weeks at most, are not 

 so changed, and while on the stream they are very much 

 the same men they were at home, only they are a little 

 more subdued. 



I think all will agree that the great majority of our fly- 

 fishermen are professional or business men, men who for 

 eleven and a half months in the year are busily engaged 

 with mind and hand in the great struggle to make two 

 dollars grow where there was only one before, and that 

 in so doing they have aquirod habits which will not allow 

 them to sit down quietly, but on the contrary are always 

 calling for change or excitement; and in the short time 

 that they allow themselves for rest and recreation these 

 habits are not much quieted down. For this class still- 

 fishing possesses very few attractions, while fly-fishing 

 gives that which they require — action and excitement. 



Should you meet a gentleman supplied with fishing 

 paraphernalia trolling in a direction which would en- 

 courage you to believe he was after trout, and inform 

 him that by going in a certain direction he could find in 

 a cold spring twenty-five pounds of nice trout all dressed 

 which he could have, or that by going in an opposite 

 direction five times as far he might catch a few little 

 fellows all alive and beautiful from some mossy brook, 

 in which direction do you think he would go? If he were 

 a true sportsman he would go to the brook; but some per- 

 eons would go to the spring. This shows that it is not the 

 fish that the sportsman wants, it is the hope that he may 

 catch them that is such an irresistibly impelling force 

 that he cannot withstand it. For a man of active temper- 

 ament and hopeful disposition, fly-casting is perhaps the 

 only kind of fishing which will give the rest desired, as 

 by its constant motion it gives the activity and excite- 

 ment which soothe the very feelings that still-fishing 

 irritate. 



Circumstances have a great influence on cases, and 

 however much a man may like casting the fly or dislike 

 fishing with bait, there are times when he may be obliged 

 to give up his favorite method or go without fish; but 

 after the desired amount of fish are caught the bait is 

 thrown aside and the dainty fly is substituted, and should 

 he be so fortunate as to catch one fish, he views it with 

 far more satisfaction than all those previously catight 

 with bait. There, are however, a few fly-fishermen who 

 will not use anything but a fly, and if they cannot catch 

 fish with that will go without them. This heroism 

 receives its reward, for such fish as they do catch are 

 looked upon, both by their friends and themselves, with 

 much more satisfaction than if they had been caught in 

 some other manner. This spring I was fortunate enough 

 to make a good catch trolling, but if I had succeeded in 

 getting the same fish by fly-fishing, the sport would have 

 been greater and my enjoyment more intense; but 

 although I knew that when I started, still I did not have 

 the corn-age to stand by my convictions. I can stand by 

 and see still-fishermen catch more fish with bait than I 

 can with a fly, but when they begin to catch larger ones 

 I "cave in." Perhaps if I had the skill of some of my 

 friends I need not resort to bait. I frequently think of an 

 incident which occured at Middle Dam a few seasons ago. 

 A gentleman from Connecticut, who had for a number of 

 years spent his vacations at that resort and who was a 

 fly-fisherman in the fullest sense of the word, had been 

 for a week or two casting around the dam, but did not 

 seem to be catching many. He could not be induced to 

 use bait in any form, although repeatedly urged to do so 

 by his friends. One day a young man who "had noticed 

 him said to a mutual friend, "Who is that man over there 

 on the dam?" 



"That is Mr. F., from Connecticut." 



" He is crazy, aint he ?" 



" Crazy, no; what made you think so?" 



" Why, for a week he has been thrashing those flies of 

 his all around here ; first down below the dam, then on 

 this side, then on that, but he don't catch a fish." 



His friend said nothing, but the next day he saw the 

 young man near a car in which Mr. F. had some nice 

 large fish, and he said, "Come here, I want to show you 

 some fish." Upon looking into the car the young man 

 said, "Great Scott! who caught those?" "Oh, that crazy 

 man over there." " Well," said he, "I thought he was a 

 fool, but I guess it's I." 



It has been tmly said that "it is not all of fishing to 

 fish," and it is not ail of fishing to catch fish. If the 

 fish are so plenty as to take away the excitement, then the 

 pleasure of catching them is gone and the sport is robbed 

 of all its attractions. For the weary and worn business 

 man who wants to take a vacation, but can not or will not 

 sit around on a hotel piazza, fly-casting on a river or 

 pond is the ideal of pleasure, as in each cast he has a chance 

 to work off some of the activity with which he is over- 

 charged, and also the excitement of watching for the fish 

 which he each time expects will rush for his fly and 

 which he must be /prepared for or his chances of success 

 are small. 



But this is not all the reason why the fly is preferred. 

 No one will doubt that the handling of a fly-rod and fine 

 is more artistic than any other style of fishing and more 

 in keeping with the scenes around which memory loves 

 to linger, and that there is nothing in fly-casting which 

 tends to take the mind from the beauties of nature to the 

 digging of worms. The contemplation of the secrets of 

 nature and the admiration of its works are to one whose 

 mind is not drawn from them by more common-place 

 things, a sotuce of great pleasure, and the days thus spent 

 are among the pleasantest we have to remember. Wan- 



dering down on the bank or in the bed of some noisy 

 river, casting a fly here or there, behind this rock or in 

 that eddy, taking a trout here and expecting to take an- 

 other just below, getting glimpses of arboreal beauty on 

 either hand, and being surprised at each turn of the 

 stream by a scene more beautiful than the last; all this 

 is to my mind far more pleasing than still-fishing of any 

 kind. 



We have in this country very few rivers or streams 

 which can be fished with the fly with any satisfaction, 

 from the fact that nearly all large streams have no trout 

 in them, but our Canadian neighbors are more fortunate 

 and they have hundreds of rivers which can be fished 

 with the fly with good results. But although the yield 

 of fish will be large, we who are accustomed to our beau- 

 tiful streams will experience a sense of disappointment 

 which no amount of fish will dispel, for their woods lack 

 many of the varieties with which we are familiar, and 

 the banks of the streams have a forsaken look which im- 

 press one with a sense of solitude and antiquity that is 

 rather depressing. But to compensate for this they do 

 not have the overhanging bushes which are so vexatious 

 to us. 



The most perfect enjoyment to me is to be on some 

 small pond or lake, just as the shadows of the tall pines 

 on the hill are beginning to grow longer, as the sun, hav- 

 ing run its race, sinks down in the west, and having 

 quietly paddled my canoe into the shade of the bank of 

 some inlet, there to cast the fly and watch the ready re- 

 sponse with which it is met. There is not a ripple on the 

 surface of the lake, and except when a trout, larger than 

 the other, breaks the still surface into a series of rings, or 

 some loon, in search of its mate, rises from its long dive 

 quite near us, only to disappear again more quickly than 

 it appeared, the whole surface looks like a mirror of pol- 

 ished stee 1 , brightening into silver and then into gold as 

 it approaches the further shore, and having the inverted 

 likeness of the beautiful green walk around it and the 

 soft heavy clouds as they float along, coming from no 

 man knows whence and going no man knows where. 



The songs of the birds as they bid good-night to the 

 departing day, the music of the brook as it rushes along 

 with ceaseless flow, and the mysterious noises of the forest 

 arising on every side blend with each other and make a 

 grand overture to the coming night. 



As we sit in our canoe, now and then making a cast, 

 while we watch the effect of the sunset on the mountain 

 opposite, seeing the shadow creep up and change the yel- 

 low to green, then to dark green, then to blue green, and 

 at last to black, we can not help thinking that it is no 

 wonder the Indian looked for gods in the mountains, for 

 no matter how well one may be acquainted with a moun- 

 tain and how often one may have looked at it, it is never 

 the same, and in this case at least familiarity does not 

 breed contempt. 



But we have not been idle as we have noticed this, for 

 the trout have begun to move, and nearly every cast has 

 been rewarded by one or more rises. We have on some 

 very large flies, which the little fellows cannot take in, 

 and so we do not catch any babies. But now, as the 

 shadows deepen, we notice a marked improvement in the 

 size of the fish which come up to the fly, and soon we 

 hook a good one. The guide, who has been lost in a cloud 

 of smoke, which has at last crowned his efforts to kindle 

 a fire in the bowl of his pipe, wakes up into activity, and 

 with a few strokes of the paddle puts the canoe out into 

 the lake, and we then and there, amid that most beauti- 

 ful of all scenes, proceed to take the most beautiful of all 

 fish in the most scientific manner. 



And then we return to our old place and do so some 

 more, until the shadows have grown so long and dark 

 and mysterious, and the stars come out one by one to be 

 reflected in the water like drops of gold in burnished sil- 

 ver, and the hooting of an owl in the forest behind us ad- 

 monishes us that it is time for us to retire, which we do 

 with the conviction on our minds that when the Creator 

 pronounced this world "good" he must have been looking 

 at oiir forests, ponds and rivers. C. D. C. 



NOBTHUMBKRLANU, N. H. 



THE WHITE PERCH. 



"VT^THAT has posterity done for me that I should do 

 T V anything for posterity?" I think there is some- 

 thing to be said very much in favor of posterity by the 

 Forest and Stream, and, therefore, I propose to put in a 

 word for old Father Time. It seems to me that the 

 younger members of the great sportsman's fraternity have 

 claims that ought to be considered. My boy delights to 

 hear of adventures with rod and gun; he wouldn't be a 

 boy if he didn't. Therefore, an article treating on giving 

 pleasure to the young people will be surely well received. 

 By giving them a chance, don't you see, of course, how 

 many future readers and subscribers you are enlisting? 

 Why, certes, Q. E. D. Therefore, I connect perch and 

 posterity; therefore, I think I prove my case. I address 

 all three — paterfamilias, perch and posterity. As I get 

 through with posterity I say to pater familias, take your 

 boys out, if you live anywhere near the dear old North 

 River, give them a frolic on the river, and only see what 

 fun and enjoyment you can get out of the trip; One 

 glance at the laughing eyes of the merry youngster as he 

 pulls the fish over the side of the boat, and are you not 

 paid in advance for going on the trip? 



Genio C. Scott calls the white perch a little fish rang- 

 ing from 3oz. to 31bs. I never saw one caught up our 

 way in the Hudson weighing anything like 31bs., but they 

 make up for loss of weight by their quality; and they are 

 a fish for boys to catch all the while; and I an "old boy" 

 will tell you how to catch them. The first thing should 

 be a good safe rowboat; also you are to have a good stout 

 long rope and heavy stone for anchor, let it be heavy 

 enough to hoM your boat and square enough to tie the 

 rope to. And here on the start you have the fun of row- 

 ing to the neighboring island or shore and selecting your 

 anchor, and the fun of letting it go souse, plump over- 

 board when you come to go home at night. We are go- 

 ing to spend the day on the river; we are going for white 

 perch. Next you waut, each of you, a good long strong 

 white cotton line, suitable for the depth of water you are 

 going to fish in, say 75 or 100ft., and a good-sized dipsey 

 or sinkers at the end. Above this., far enough to clear 

 your sinker, fasten on a piece of whalebone pierced with 

 holes for your snelled hooks to pass through. You want 

 small snelled hooks, four on each whalebone, two on a 

 side. Above the first whalebone put on a second, high 

 up enough to clear the lower one. Pass your line through 



a hole in the center of the above and fasten it securely, 

 it is a good wrinkle to attach to each end of the whale- 

 bone a small piece of line and fasten it to the main line. 

 Boys would call it "the apex of the triangle," but the line 

 or the fish won't mind that in the least. Now comes an- 

 other streak of fun, and that is digging your bait. Don't 

 be afraid of "scraning your back." Clams are not 

 always come-at-able, and worms wdl fetch perch at any 

 time without fail. Now your mother has put up lots of 

 good things for you in your basket, all things are 

 ready. Tell your father to light his pipe and start for 

 our boat. See you have everything in its place, 

 andy and shipshape. You are going to leam more things 

 this pleasant morning than how to fish for perch. Your 

 father sits in the stern sheets with his hand on the tiller; 

 you being quite a big boy are to pull stroke oar and let 

 your younger brother pull bow. Of course you both 

 know how to swim and row. Let me tell you, my young 

 fellows, you should hardly be able to remember when you 

 could not do both of these things. Now, then, wave 

 your hand to mother and your sister, and give way. Pull 

 an easy, quiet stroke, feather yovu- oar; so; don't put your 

 oar in too deep; better! that's right! and watch" the 

 youngster in the bow; don't pull him round, see how 

 eager and delighted he is, encourage him. Away we go; 

 the island is not two miles away; and slack water for 

 half an hour. What a lovely day on tho water. Just a 

 light breeze, and yet how animated a picture. See that 

 three-masted schooner as she fans along, bound up the 

 river for a load of coal. Look at that tow coming down 

 the river; some of those boats have come down through 

 the canal from Whitehall; those people live on board as 

 do the Chinese. What was that splash? Oh, what a big 

 fish. You are right; that was a sturgeon; they used to 

 be very plenty in these waters years ago, but now they 

 are disappearing very rapidly. Oh, yes"; sometimes they 

 jump into the boats, but very seldom; they are a sluggish 

 fish, and not much fight in them; the moment they are 

 caught in the net they give up without a struggle. 



When I am home I can look out of my window and see 

 very nearly to a pond across the river, where a gentleman 

 had a large sturgeon put in to the pond, with a harness so 

 fixed that he could secure him to a small boat; then he 

 would get in, poke the fish up and make him carry him 

 along. We call them "Albany beef," and the fish are all 

 sent up to the river to Albany and sold for about $3 

 apiece. Well, you are getting a little tired of rowing, 

 still you stick to your oars, both of you; that is right, it 

 won't hurt you if you do get a little tired. In oars; there's 

 where we want to anchor, where you see the water boil- 

 ing and bubbling up; there's the reef, steady, all ready 

 with your anchor, look out your feet don't catch in the 

 rope, overboard she goes — splash! there, you've struck 

 bottom; give her a little slack and fasten your rope well 

 so it don't get overboard. Now then, out lines and fall 

 to work fishing. Cast your eye over to where your little 

 brother is getting ready; that's right, lend him a helping 

 hand. Now for the first fish. You will soon feel him 

 bite, but with the hooks you have baited you need not be 

 in a hurry. Twitch, twitch; now all hands are pulling 

 up. See there, you have each of you three or four silver- 

 plated shiny fellows. Bait and throw overboard again. 

 Toss them into that basket and keep the cover over it, to 

 keep off the sun. How the little fellows do bite. Why, 

 there must be no end of them down there. Hardly does 

 your line touch the bottom before they are at the bait. 

 What kind of a fish is this I've caught? Oh, that is a striped 

 bass; no better fish swims these waters. There are large 

 three and five-pounders in the North River, but when 

 you get a little older you will find out how to capture 

 them with rod and line. The shad fishermen catch them 

 sometimes in their nets weighing 25 or 301bs. Oh , what 

 a bite I just had! Well, pull up. Oh, what have I got? 

 Dear me, there's a nasty eel. What shall I do now? 

 Patience; I told you you would learn more things than 

 one to-day; take a lesson in patience; don't worry now 

 nor fret; try and get him off and I will help you. "Nasty 

 fish? Well, I don't like eels myself, and yet no fish is 

 more fond of clean nice bait than is the eel, and you 

 know in old times he was considered a great delicacy. 

 Grasp him firmly behind his fins, work your hook about 

 a little, so; now you're clear of him. Yes, let him go 

 overboard. Now disentangle your hooks and line, start 

 all over again. Now you're just as good as new. Don't 

 bite as fast as they did? Must be getting tliinned out? 

 Well, look at your basket, more than half full. Begin 

 to feel hungry? I don't wonder at it; very good sign. 

 Twelve o'clock. Here come the day boats, Troy and 

 Alida; they meet just about here, half way from New 

 York to Albany. Do you see that white house, glinting 

 up there through the trees? Well, the other day I met an 

 old-time North River boatman and he told me, "Many 

 and many a salmon and lobster and New York news- 

 paper have I chucked into the river off that house. I 

 would lash them to a stick of wood and a man would row 

 out for them." There were no railroads in those days, 

 nor Herreshoff steam launches. 



Now comes the tug of war. Heave ahoy ! All hands 

 together. Up she comes. Now we will pidl off to the 

 island and go ashore and enjoy our lunch ! See that your 

 boat is tied up carefully so she can not float away. Now 

 then spread the cloth. Get the grub out of your basket, 

 and fall to. »jNo water to drink ? My dear boy, water 

 eveiywherwv Hudson River water good to drink? Well, 

 I should think it was. Why even now I can name you 

 grown up old boys who will tell you they would rather 

 drink the Hudson River water than the Croton. I am not 

 sure but they are right. It's good enough for me any- 

 way. 



Well, what famous appetites : no better friends could 

 you have. Now, while I smoke a quiet pipe you can rest 

 yourselves, and bye-and-bye we'll have a swim. Plenty 

 of time to fish later. I promise you you shall have all 

 you want to catch. Now then, all hands for the water. 

 Take it coolly. Keep your mouth shut and breathe 

 through your nose. Don't get flurried in the water ; 

 plenty of time for everything. So for more fish. Let's 

 drop down a little way below here. Softly, bring the old 

 pine tree and that smaller island in range ; now let her 

 go. Zip ! Water is not quite so deep here. There. Now, 

 go to work with a will. 



Well, now, we have spent a day on the water and our 

 basket of sandwiches is empty, but our basket of fish is 

 full. The sun's going down and we will pull for home. 

 Heave and pull all hands, Steady! Hand me the knife. 

 Look out! Cut, splash, dash! You won't use that stone 

 again. And off wte pull for' home, Eh! What? Have I 



