June 13. 1896.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
477 
efforts to reduce the business to a successful working 
basis would prove useless and futile; further experiments 
might be interesting, but would result in no practical 
benefit. 
There is probably an appreciable space of time during 
which the spawn may be taken and fertilized, but this 
time is not known, and it would not be practical anyway 
to isolate each pair, as it would be necessary to do, and 
provide the constant surveillance necessary to insure 
seizing the opportunity. Moreover, it would be unwise 
to take the eggs artificially even if it were entirely prac- 
tical to do so, as we could never hope to equal the natural 
hatching percentage. Given protection against turtles 
and water snakes — the male bass will take care of all 
other intruders — and the natural hatching percentage 
will often be as high as 90. Artificial manipulation of 
adhesive eggs has never reached that figure and. probably 
never will. 
Although to some extent a repetition of the above, I 
quote from my report in writing to the Board, filed short- 
ly after the close of last season's bass work: "Previous 
experiments and a careful observation of the conduct of 
the parent fish prior to and during the act of spawning 
lead to the conclusion that the artificial taking and im- 
pregnation of bass eggs is possible only when undertaken 
at exactly the right moment, or within the limits of a 
period so brief as to admit of success only on rare occa- 
sions. A preliminary coaxing and caressing by the male 
seems imperative, not only to bring the female to the 
point of spawning, but also to develop the milt. These 
preliminary proceedings are sometimes carried on for 
several hours, and again for only a few moments; if in- 
terrupted or handled at this time, or prior to the orgas- 
mic stage, neither the eggs nor milt will flow, so that 
artificial impregnation may be accomplished only during 
the few moments of actual spawning or after the natural 
spawning has begun. Under the strictest surveillance 
the opportunity is too seldom presented or known for 
practical operations in this direction. In any event, 
however, we would lose instead of gain by the artificial 
handling of bass eggs, owing to the relatively high per- 
centage of natural results in protected ponds and the 
relatively low percentage of results by artificial treat- 
ment of adhesive eggs." 
To refer back to the annex pond. After concluding to 
allow the natural spawning to proceed without interrup- 
ting, the fish continued bedding, and when the fry were 
nearly at the point of rising the fish that remained to 
guard the beds were driven out and the pond screened 
against the parent fish and to prevent the eecape of the 
young. After rising and scattering they were scapped 
up as wanted for shipment. Total results of this pond 
for the season 16,000 fry, all taken from five beds, as 
three beds were unproductive. 
This year there are eight beds in the annex and one in 
the connecting raceway. Six of these beds are now 
black with fry and will yield 20,000 to 30,000. There ara 
thirty adult bass in the pond. The water is a little colder 
in this pond than in the lower one, hence the fry are a 
little later in rising. 
The perfect success of the little side pond both last year 
and this indicates the style or system of ponds best 
adapted to the culture of small-mouth bass. The storage 
pond Bhould be quite large and of good depth— say 4 to 8 
or 10ft. deep. Plenty of boulders should be provided for 
shade during the summer and to hover around, as the 
bass is wont to do while in the torpid condition of its 
winter retirement. This pond should have no gravelly 
shoals or margin to encourage bedding, but should be 
nearly surrounded with small ponds, each connected 
with the main pond by a short raceway, and made as in- 
viting as possible for spawning purposes. No fear need 
be entertained that the fish will not seek the side ponds 
at the proper time. It is demonstrated that with a suit- 
able water supply the question of propagating small- 
mouth bass on a scale to provide for large and effective 
distributions is reduced to the simple proposition of pro- 
viding the ponds and breeders. 
A few scattering notes in connection with the subject 
of bass propagation may be of interest and therefore are 
submitted. 
In the Thornapple River the beds are made along the 
shores in from 1 to 3 ft. of water and where the current is 
very moderate — never in rapid water. A circular ridge 
of sand and gravel is thrown up and the bottom of the 
hollow thus formed — always of gravel and pebbles or 
small cobblestones — is swept bright and clean. This 
work is almost invariably done by the male, though in a 
few instances the female was present — which is not usual 
— and was seen to render some assistance, but this occurs 
only when the female is under great stress of haste to 
spawn. In such cases the preparation of the beds had 
been delayed too long, or they may have been driven 
from their own beds, duly prepared, by a pair whose bed 
had likewise been usurped. 
Mr. Dwight Lydell, who is in charge of the bass work 
during the spawning season, and a careful and intelligent 
observer, was recently an eye-witness to an incident of 
this nature. While watching a pair of bass going through 
the preliminary maneuvering that precedes the actual 
spawning, another pair approached the bed with the evi- 
dent intention of appropriating it. The males at once be- 
gan a fight that grew quite furious at times and lasted 
about an hour. The females took no part, but rushed 
about in great apparent distress. The rightful owner of 
the bed, although much the smaller, proved the victor, 
for the would-be usurpers finally dropped down stream 
about 10ft. and immediately commenced to whip out a 
bed of their own. They worked rapidly and in forty 
minutes the bed was ready. Then, after a few moments 
of sexual sparring, the spawning was begun and com- 
pleted in five or six minutes. Meantime the other pah- 
resumed business and in forty-five minutes had completed 
preliminaries and finished spawning. 
The preparation of beds is usually begun in the latter 
part of April or early in May, though the spawning does 
not follow as a rule until several days later. This year 
the males began working on the beds in the annex pond 
on April 30; the first spawning there was on May 8. At 
the beginning of the season the males work on the beds 
only occasionally, and suspend work entirely during a 
cold storm or a spell of cold weather; but as the season 
advances matters are hastened and preliminaries short- 
ened, 
When the bed is ready and the male has induced a fe- 
male to accompany him to it, there follows a series of 
movements quite impossible to describe. Generally the 
female is coy and diffident at first and inclined to leave, 
but after much maneuvering and persuasion by the male 
is rounded up and reluctantly remains. The male grows 
more active and ardent; his movements indicate strong 
sexual excitement and a desire to induce excitement in 
the female; coaxing and caressing alternate with bunting 
and biting various parts of the body, but chiefly around 
the vent. Then the male glides slowly over the bed with 
a peculiar, trembling, fluttering movement while careened 
over nearly on his Bide. Soon the pair crosses the bed 
slowly, duplicating the spasmodic flutterings, each lean- 
ing over outward, thus bringing their vents close together, 
although the female is always slightly in advance. The 
bed is crossed in like manner at intervals of ten to twenty 
seconds until the spawn is all cast, which usually takes 
from five to ten minutes. The preliminaries that lead up 
to the spawning last much longer as a rule than the act 
of spawning, and sometimes fail altogether. In one in- 
stance a male was seen, after an hour s ineffectual effort 
to induce spawning, to drive the female back to the main 
pond and return in a short time with another. While 
the female is spawning the entire body is strongly 
mottled, but resumes its normal appearance soon after 
spawning and leaving the bed. 
In a paper presented before this society at its seven- 
teenth annual meeting, Mr. C. S. Holt stated that the 
male and female bass prepared the bed jointly, and that 
the female guards the young; but he has since acknowl- 
edged to me that later observations have convinced him 
that he was in error. It is positively known that, except 
under circumstances heretofore noted, the male bass as- 
sumes both of these duties. A number of fish have been 
captured while performing either function, and the iden- 
tity of the sex established by removing the spermaries. 
In size and color the eggs of the small-mouth bass cor- 
respond very closely with those of the fresh- water herring, 
being perhaps the least trifle smaller in size and a little 
deeper in color. They will approximate 80,000 to the 
quart. 
The number of eggs per female will range from 2,000 
to 10,000 or more. It is quite rare that so few as 1,000 
fry rise from a bed, and as many as 8,000 have been taken 
from a single bed in the river, but 3,000 to 6,000 is the 
usual number. 
The length of the hatching period, so far as observa- 
tions have been made, varies from seventy hours at an 
average temperature of 60° to one hundred hours. A 
merely casual inspection will fail to detect the hatch- 
ing point, as the fish at first is all sac, which is of the same 
size as the egg and looks just like it; but on closer exam- 
ination it will be noticed that the sphere is slightly elon- 
gated and a very faint, shadowy line will be seen to extend 
about one-third the way around the sac. But the devel- 
opment is very rapid, and in from six to fourteen days, 
according to temperature conditions, "the sac that is all 
sac" has become a black, vigorous young fish. The black 
blanket of fry that now covers the bottom of the bed is 
ready to rise, and they begin to swim up and form a 
school which usually holds together two to four days, but 
may break up in two or three hours if the temperature is 
very high. On the other hand, the schools have been seen 
to settle back on the beds and remain a few days longer 
when there is a sudden and marked change to colder 
weather. They also usually settle back on the bed at 
night for the first two or three nights. 
In the river the schools do not at first disperse in all 
directions; they head up stream, some barely holding 
even with the current, some dropping back, and others 
forging ahead and making some headway, thus gradu- 
ally stringing along out in thinly scattered lines. 
In addition to the small-mouth bass fry furnished by 
the Cascade ponds, 20,000 were collected from beds in the 
Thornapple during the season of 1894, 73,000 in the season 
of 1895 and 62,000 so far this season. We also collected 
and distributed last season 145,000 fry of big-mouth bass, 
all taken from beds around the margin of Lara way's Lake, 
near Cascade. So far this season 12,000 have been taken 
from the same lake. The beds of the big-mouth bass 
are found on and among the roots of pond lilies and 
various water plants and grasses. 
Referring again to the pond feature of the present sea- 
son's work, it should be noted that a total of ninety adult 
male and female bass in two ponds have so far produced 
60,000 fry for shipment, with 30,000 to 40,000 more in 
Bight. 
ON A CONNECTICUT STREAM. 
After reading some of the accounts of excellent trout 
fishing indulged in by some of Forest and Stream's cor- 
respondents, it would seem injudicious for a person to at- 
tempt to give a description of a trout fishing trip taken in 
Connecticut. As in other thickly populated sections of 
our country, Connecticut's trout streams are, virtually 
speaking, completely depleted. Scarce indeed are the 
streams accessible to the general public which afford any 
kind of a day's sport. To tbis order of things, however, 
there are a few exceptions. Happening to be one of the 
lucky ones who can take advantage of one of these excep- 
tions, I occasionally manage to secure a few fish. 
A quarter of a mile to the west of the farm on which I 
live, about halfway between the farm and a range of 
forest-crested ledges, is an extensive marsh, out of which 
flows a tiny, silvery stream of pure spring water. Fed by 
many tiny tributaries, as it advances on its southward 
journey, the stream gradually increases in volume until it 
assumes the proportions of a fair-sized trout stream. 
When it has left the marsh it flows, deep- voiced, over and 
against many boulders through a gloomy, forest-canopied 
cafion, from which it issues, dimpled and radiant, into a 
flower-strewn meadow. Gliding by dandelion-studded 
banks of emerald, or reflecting golden cowslips and slen- 
der anemones from some limpid pool, swirling swiftly 
under the upturned roots of a prostrate giant or bespraying 
a mossy rock or log, playing hide and seek with the sun- 
beams as it sweeps under drooping, verdant boughs, it 
glides and sings, smiles and frowns, twists and turns until 
its waters mingle with those of the Sound, ten miles to 
the south. 
From the waters of the brook I occasionally manage to 
secure a fair string of trout. For the past three or four 
seasons, however, the fish have decreased in numbers to 
such an extent as to make us realize that we must restock 
it, or trout fishing in its waters will soon become a thing 
of the past. I fished it once this season, but met with 
such indifferent success as to cause me to lay my rod 
away for the rest of the season. I believe in giving them 
some chance. 
It is of another and more successful occasion that I will . 
try to give a description, the pleasantest and most success- 
ful day's trout fishing I ever had. 
The apple trees hung under a smother of blossoms that 
morning, when, with a light rod in hand, I stepped forth 
from the side door of the old farmhouse and took my 
way across the fields toward the stream. 
The sun had not yet risen when I reached the banks, 
though delicately tinted eastern heavens gave evidence of 
its early appearance. Every indication portended a perfect 
day — perhaps too bright a one for successful trout fishing. 
I jointed my rod, and selecting a lively worm (I confess 
to never having been initiated into the graces of fly-cast- 
ing) I baited the hook, then, drawing my hip boots well 
up, I cautiously stepped into the clear water. 
The current had hardly carried the bait more than 20ft. 
when there was a gleam like lightning, and as the line 
ran swiftly out I realized tha,t I had hooked the first trout 
of the day. He proved to be an 8in. fish. After admir- 
ing his bright spots I mercifully killed him and stored 
him away in the creel. 
I unreeled about 25ft. of line and continued cautiously 
on down the stream, allowing the bait to be carried into 
every nook and eddy. It was not long before I had an- 
other strike. This one, however, proved to be under the 
6in. limit, so I gave him liberty. Shortly after I came to 
a place where the stream, rushing down a steep incline, 
swept swiftly, though noiselessly, under the roots of an 
old stump that reared its black shape above a clustering 
bed of yellow dandelions. I had never sent my hook 
under this stump in vain. Approaching the spot with 
stealthy tread, I allowed the bait to be carried toward the 
roots. It had nearly reached the goal, when b-r-r-r went 
the reel; then like a meteor a dull gleam of gold flashed 
from out the shadowy depths under the stump. When I 
had given him plenty of time I struck, and soon I had a 
lOin. beauty gasping on the bank. I took three more 
from this hole before they quit biting. One I returned 
on account of size. 
I would like to put to the fishing contingent of Forest 
and Stream what to me is a thorough conundrum: 
Suppose a fisherman who wishes to observe the law 
strictly should hook a trout under the size limit so badly 
as fatally to wound it, what is he to do? Should he re- 
turn it in its mangled condition to the stream to die by 
inches or should he kill it and then return it to the stream, 
or would it be right to put it in his creel and take it home? 
This has always proved "a poser" to me. Possibly there 
are some who can enlighten me. 
The dew jewels glowed in rainbow hues from every 
grass blade, leaf and petal under the slanting rays of old 
Sol as I went on down the stream. Slender anemones 
swayed gracefully in the soft morning air and the birds 
seemed to vie with each other in their sweetest carolings. 
"Surely this is living— this is freedom," thought I as I 
landed another spotted treasure among a bunch of be- 
dewed cowslips off to one side of the brook. (I was think- 
ing of myself at the time, not of the fish.) 
I went on for a mile or so, when I arrived at a place 
where it is spanned by a log. A short distance below the 
log the stream widens out into a pool of quiet water. I 
generally count on taking a fish out of this pool, so I exer- 
cised the greatest caution in approaching it. 
I had nearly reached a favorable position from which 
to manipulate my line when I was startled by a loud 
splash in the water behind me. Upon turning "my head 
to observe the cause, imagine my surprise upon beholding 
a perfect whirlwind of arms, legs, whiskers and shower 
bath, all tangled up together under the log bridge in the 
middle of the brook. Floating with the current of the 
stream was a bundle wrapped in an old red bandanna 
handkerchief, a club and an old dilapidated stiff hat. 
From out the depths of the whiskers, in a hoarse, buzz 
saw-like voice, there issued a succession of spluttering 
croaks intermingled with such a choice selection of sul- 
phurous adjectives as to seem to cause even the birds to 
cease their warblings while they listened in dumbfounded 
amazement. Laying my rod on the bank, I gathered the 
floating articles together and carried them to their very 
much washed owner, who by this time had managed to 
scramble out of the brook, and who stood shivering on the 
bank. 
Being considerably puzzled as to how to address him 
properly under the prevailing conditions, I suggested that 
the water in the brook was rather frigid to bathe in at 
that time of the year. That tramp didn't have a bit of 
fun in his composition, for he never smiled. Instead he 
glared in no assuring manner out of his small, bleared 
eyes at me, as he bent over and wrung the moisture from 
his water-soaked whiskers. 
"W ye t'ink I was fool enough f er to fall in f er fun?" he 
croaked fiercely. "Jest ez I put me fut on de t'ing it 
turned over wid me and trun me in de drink." I sug- 
gested to him that it would be a good idea to collect some 
wood for a fire, so as to dry his clothes. After assisting 
him with his fire I returned to my fishing. 
He was the only tramp I ever saw in that neighborhood, 
and must have wandered considerably out of his course to 
have gotten there. The last glimpse I caught of him was 
when I entered the cafion through, which the brook flows 
after leaving the marshy meadow. As he stood over the 
fire, with head drawn between his shoulders, his be- 
draggled black coat tails, hanging like a pair of drooping 
wings, gave him the appearance of nothing so much as 
that of a poor, forlorn crow. 
When I had reached the cafion I had taken five trout. 
The largest measured lOin. , the smallest 7in. The cafion 
is half a mile long, and is completely shaded by thick, 
heavy pines throughout its entire length. A number of 
holes are to be found in the brooks in this dark place, 
which afford excellent hiding places for the cunning 
trout. 
Making my way cautiously over the slippery stones and 
taking a fish now and then, I finally reached a shallow 
spot where the water rushes noisily down an incline, then 
swirls sharply to the left and falls into a pool, under the 
roots of a huge oak, fully 5ft. deep. 
This is undoubtedly the best spot on the brook, and I 
was filled with pleasant anticipations as I approached it. 
Removing the old bait, I replaced it with a fresh lively 
one; then, crouching low, I worked carefully within the 
proper distance. Dropping the line into the water, the 
bait was soon swirled into the pool. It had no sooner 
reached there, however, than the line straightened with 
a sudden jerk and the reel began to sing. I felt satisfied 
that a good fish was at the baited end of the line before! 
struck. I was surprised at the result, however, when I 
