Deo. 22, 1894. J 
061 
ANGLING NOTES. 
Fario versus Fontinalis. 
Almost since the common brook trout of Europe, Salmo 
fario, was introduced into the waters of this country, 
fears have been expressed that because of its more rapid 
and greater growth the fish would destroy our native 
brook trout, Salvelinus fontinalis, when put into waters 
with it. These fears were perhaps natural concerning a 
new fish about which we were not fully informed, in a 
country where indiscriminate stocking is practiced as it is 
here. 
However, those best fitted to judge of what the result 
would be, seem to have taken a conservative view of the 
supposed effect of turning the two species of trout, or 
charr and trout, loose in the same water and declared 
that if ordinary judgment was exercised in selecting the 
waters in which to plant the brown trout (fario), they 
were no more to be dreaded than our own brook trout, so 
far as their predatory and cannibalistic habits may be con- 
cerned. 
Besides preying upon our native trout the brown trout 
is charged with not rising to the artificial fly when it is 
artistically presented for his acceptance on the surface of 
waters where the fish has been planted. 
It is one thing to make charges against a fish and it is 
sometimes quite another thing to prove the charges to be 
true. It is more than likely that in time, in spite of the 
bad name some people have given the brown trout, we 
would have become better acquainted with the fish in its 
new home and have realized that it was not so black as it 
has been painted, and that after all it was not so very 
unlike other species of the salmon family. 
But an Englishman in this country puts the beloved 
trout of Great Britain in a hole, so to speak, when he says 
of it that it is an enemy of our native trout; that it was an 
error to introduce it where the fontinalis already existed; 
that it will prove as bad an introduction as the sparrow, 
and that when it grows large it feeds wholly on fish by 
preference — and of course it is a cannibal. There is an 
indictment for you! One might think that our own na- 
tive trout when grown large did not feed wholly on fish 
by preference, and that it was not a cannibal; but it does, 
and it is, just the same. 
We are fairly well acquainted with our native trout 
and know something of its habits and characteristics; and 
as it has made the journey across the Atlantic in an oppos- 
ite direction from that made by the brown trout, let us 
see how our beautiful fish has been received in England 
and what they think of it, and what sort of a name they 
give it over there. 
Mr. Richard Edon says in Land and Water: "I strongly 
advise the restocking of our lakes and rivers with native 
fish only, and not foreigners, more especially American 
Salmo fontinalis, which is both pugnacious and voracious, 
and also a great wanderer. They are most difficult to 
keep at home should there be a loophole where they can 
get through." When this appeared a well-known English 
angling writer, "Silver Grey," asked Mr. Edon "on what 
grounds does he condemn the free-rising and plucky fon- 
tinalis as being pugnacious and voracious, and too great 
a wanderer." Mr. Edon replied that after a practical ex- 
perience of twenty-three years with the fish, he had not 
heard any one who gave our brook trout a good name. 
It was called the "wanderer" because it disappeared from 
the waters in which it was planted. As to its pugnacious 
propensities: 
"If you put fontinalis into a tank with other species of 
the Salmonidoz, in forty-eight hours there would scarcely 
be a fin of the opposite species but had been visited by 
fontinalis" He further cites a visit to a hatchery where 
there were a lot of yearlings of our trout ready to be sent 
to an exhibition and when he "looked into the tank he 
beheld numbers of fish with a tail at each end of them." 
How could anything be more dreadful of any fish? 
Would the brown trout, or could they, be worse than 
those horrid fontinal'is which probably swallowed one 
another until only one was left, when he swallowed him- 
self. 
Really a fish has to go away from home for people, 
some people, to find out just the kind of a freebooting 
pirate he is. 
I believe as a rule we think fairly well of our red- 
spotted trout, and many an American angler will be 
pained to learn what a holy terror he becomes when he 
gets beyond home influences and associations. 
"Silver Grey" does put in a good word for the fontinalis 
in reply to Mr. Edon and others when he says that he 
has caught the Loch Leven trout and the fontinalis, 
catching one with one cast and the other with the next 
cast. "I am bound to say that, although perhaps a 
thought slower on the rise, the fontinalis takes as freely 
as the Leven, shows as much fight, and while being more 
beautiful than the Leven, is its equal, if not its superior, 
in quality." 
By common consent the English critics of our fonti- 
nalis refer the whole matter to Mr. J. J. Armistead, the 
well known fishculturist of the Solway Fishery, to decide 
whether our brook trout should be fostered in or banished 
from English waters. Mr. Armistead put on the judicial 
ermine and speaks from the bench as follows: "We 
always find plenty of people to 'run down' anything or 
anybody. It always has and probably always will be so. 
But is it fair to run down a fish before giving it a fair 
trial. There are many pros and cons connected with the 
fontinalis, and a book might be written on him. In cer- 
tain waters he does very well indeed, and is a game fish, 
rising well to the fly and giving excellent sport, of which 
I have ample proof. In other waters, however, he has 
not done well at all, though the same may be said of S. 
levenensis, which is a very excellent fish. 
In some cases fontinalis has vanished, owing to his 
migratory propensities, which are unusually strong. On 
this account he has been unjustly condemned. It is said 
of Jhim that in some waters he will not rise to fly. Per- 
sonally I have not met with such a locality, though I 
have seen several of the other kind, and I very much 
query if many such places exist. * * * I have heard 
of where fontinalis were accused of not rising to the fly 
and believe it was because they had not the chance. 
Personally, I have found them very free risers, and so 
have many others who have fished for them. 
"As to being 'cannibalistic' All trout are cannibals. 
Though fontinalis is really a charr, yet he is called in 
America the 'brook trout,' and so we give him the same 
name over here. I have seen a similar occurrence to that 
related by Mr. Edon take place among a lot of Salmo fario; 
indeed, when these fish do begin to eat their fellows, then- 
rapacity knows no bounds." 
In other words, fario and fontinalis average pretty 
much alike as to their habits, and when either one of 
them is out for an airing, all sorts of kindergarten fish, if 
they consult their own safety, will do well to take to the 
woods. 
From the Land of the Beaver. 
My old friend, Mr. John Mowat, is nothing if he is not 
a confirmed salmon fisherman, as perhaps I have had 
occasion to remark in this column before, but in a recent 
gossipy letter written from his home in Campbeilton, New 
Brunswick, he says some things that will make trout fish- 
ermen roll their eyes skyward: 
"I helped some at our hatchery this fall and laid down 
two and one-half millions salmon eggs, my son Alexander 
getting as many more at the St. John River hatchery. 
Remember, we don't do anything here in the trout line, 
and don't want them. They are much scarcer here now 
than they were twenty years ago, but the salmon are 
more plenteous. Trout, such as those 5 and 9-pounders 
caught in the Rangeley Lakes, and the hard fights so often 
graphically depicted in Forest and Stream never even 
make my mouth water. So, true it is, that a good trout 
fisherman should never touch salmon. 
"I see that some Forest and Stream correspondents go 
in for what may be called slaughtering in order to make 
a score. It might be well to have an act framed to limit 
the catch of fish. Some of our Restigouche anglers have 
gone in for needless slaughter for the sake of a score. 
'Who will be high line? Who is going to have the biggest 
bag?' are not good mottoes. So far as I know salmon 
are not allowed to go to waste. Anglers who are high 
up, say fifty or sixty miles above a station, commonly 
salt the surplus fish and give them to their guides. This 
has a tendency to incite the men to put forth all then- 
energies and to put the angler in the most favorable 
positions possible to both hood and save the fish, as very 
much depends on your guide's cleverness and ability in 
handling the canoe and gaffing the fish. Just to show 
one score where I believe two rods were fishing a month. 
The guide, Peter Gray, an Indian half-breed, sold in this 
town ten barrels of salted salmon. This shows that the 
fish were not destroyed, as they were in fine condition. 
It shows also that 150 salmon, averaging 201bs. in weight, 
went into those barrels to fill them, as in salting fish one- 
third is allowed for salt shrinkage and offal. No doubt 
salmon was the standing dish for the canoemen during 
the time, and so a good many more must have been 
killed. It looks somewhat like slaughter, and, I should 
say, hard work. I should think a limit of thirty, well 
forty if you will, of those large fish is or should be satis- 
factory to a rod. 
"My two sons Alexander and J. P. Mowat have 
obtained some good fishing water from four to ten miles 
above Intercolonial Railway station, at Metapedia; two 
of them within a mile of another station, also one seventy 
miles above tide water, on. which in three days last June 
2i salmon were taken. 
I hear that the Sweeny and Alfred property, seven 
miles from the station, has been bonded by a Georgia 
party for $70,000; this includes all land and fixtures. I 
also hear that the Restigouche Salmon Club is about pur- 
chasing the Breese property, for which, two years ago, 
he paid $36,000 and on which he has expended $3,000 for 
a house." 
The Sweeny property which Mr. Mowat refers to is one 
of the best private fishings on the Restigouche. Last 
summer I met a gentleman on the cars between Quebec 
and Montreal who told me that some New England men 
were negotiating for this fishing either to lease or buy it, 
and the terms mentioned were so low that afterward 
when I met Mr. Harry Sweeny and talked with him 
about the property I had not the assurance to ask if the 
terms were as I had heard them. The figures Mr. 
Mowat gives is very like what the property has been 
considered worth. 
An Invitation. 
A friend who invites me to go a-fishing for landlocked 
salmon next June concludes the invitation thus: 
"Come float with me and be my love, 
And we will all the pleasure prove 
Of dreamy hours and outdoor lunch, 
With dulcet cups of ruby punch; 
Of lissome trout the draughts between, 
And dancing Salmo's silver sheen, 
With nibbling smelts to while away 
The intervals of salmon play." 
He says in conclusion "Can you stand it?'' I do not 
know whether the query refers to the fishing or the poetry, 
but I can stand both. The fact is, I think this is an im- 
provement upon Walton's "Milk Maid's Song." It may 
be quite ecstatic to "sit upon the rocks," and also to "see 
the shepherds feed our flocks" as Walton has it, but at 
the risk of being considered more material than etherial, 
I must confess that outdoor lunch and ruby punch are 
more satisfying. In these modern days, with crusaders 
around, one might get "run in" with only "a belt of 
straw and ivie buds," but surely there can be no moral 
objections to fishing for salmon with smelt bait, and I 
shall accept the invitation with many thanks, 
" Lyra Piscatoria." 
Many anglers on this side of the ocean know of "Cots- 
wold Isys, M.A.," as an author and as the honorary poet 
of the Fly-Fi3hers' Club in Loridon; and when, some 
months ago, I mentioned that he had written a little 
volume of poems on the "Nature, Habits, Mode of Cap- 
ture of Fresh-Water Fishes, on Flies, Fishing and Fisher- 
men," and would publish it if sufficient subscribers were 
obtained. I received the names of a number of subscrib- 
ers to be forwarded to the author. "Cotswold Isys" is a 
London clergyman, and the book was written purely from 
a love of the subjects about which he sings and with no 
hope of pecuniary reward, and, therefore, he did not wish 
to put the MSS. in the printer's hand until the greater 
part of the cost of publication was assured. Friends who 
have sent in their names through me have asked when 
"Lyra Piscatoria" might be expected from the press, but 
I could not answer the question until now. The last mail 
steamer brought me a letter from the author, in which he 
says: 
"I am sure you will be glad to hear that "Lyra Pisca- 
toria" is to be published at last. It is now being printed 
by Horace Cox, the publisher of the Meld. I hope it will 
be ready to send out in January. The price will be 3s. 6d. , 
and I expect it will prove a loss to me. The edition will 
be one of 500 copies." Every one of the forty, about, 
anglers who gave their names to me as a subscriber is a 
reader of Forest and Stream, and this note will inform 
them when the volume may be expected. Should others 
desire to obtain copies of the book, they may be procured 
by writing to "Cotswold Isys," Fly-Fishers' Club, Arundel 
Hotel, Thames Embankment, London. 
Slack or Taut Line. 
A correspondent sends to Forest and Stream the fol- 
lowing query: "Will you kindly inform me in your next 
impression how to play a fresh water bass when he breaks 
from the water. What I mean is, whether he should 
have the butt or should he have slack line?" 
First, I think it my duty to tell this correspondent that 
if he will consult all the angling books, so far as I can at 
this moment recall them, he will find that when advice 
is given on this point it is that the tip of the rod must be 
lowered when the fish jumps from the water to give slack 
line so that the fish may not fall back on the taut line and 
leader and break the latter. This advice is so antiquated 
that it is moth-eaten, and has been handed down as a 
precious possession through generations of fishermen. 
Now, if the correspondent has the courage to follow the 
advice he seeks he will do nothing of the sort, but keep 
his rod well up and the line taut from strike to landing 
net. To "give the butt" is chiefly poetical license. Once 
in a while, and the occasions are rare, as I believe, the 
top of the rod may be inclined backward as the butt is 
put forward (for this is "giving the butt") to bring the 
greatest power of the spring of the rod to bear on a fight- 
ing fish, but one will not do this much oftener than he 
has the measles. A rod held well up where it exerts its 
steel-like spring is all the "butt" a fish gets as a rule, for 
that is all the angler can give it. 
As to a fish falling back on a taut leader and breaking 
it if the tip of the rod is not lowered to meet the jump, 
I consider it one of the choicest bits of rot in angling 
literature. If the rod is of any account, and of course I 
assume that an angler will fish with a rod and not with a 
bean pole, the fish cannot do what it is presumed he may 
do. On a previous occasion when I said this at greater 
length, and gave reasons for thinking as I expressed 
myself, I expected to be jumped upon from all directions, 
but no one jumped. Once when fishing for black bass in 
Canada I was catching more fish than my conscience 
would permit me to kill, and day after day I gave the 
fish every possible opportunity to break the leader by 
falling back upon it, when the line was as taut as it can 
be when using a pliant rod, and there was not a break 
because of it, although there were breaks from other 
causes than falling back on the leader, A. N. Cheney. 
THE BLACK SEA BASS. 
I shall never forget the sight of my first tarpon, as it 
was in a country where they were rare. I was fishing f or 
gray snapper, one of the gamiest fishes that swims— and 
little known, owing to their timidity, by sportsmen— 
when, crawling under a wharf to catch some live bait 
from a school of sardines, I saw a fish, blue-backed and 
silver-sided, certainly 6ft. long, lying in shallow water 
not 10ft. from the shore. Whether the feeling that took 
possession of me was buck fever I know not, but the 
tarpon escaped. 
An almost identical sensation was experienced when I 
saw my first black sea bass— a fish that is found at its best 
about Santa Catalina and San Clemente islands off Los 
Angeles county, California. I have always been an 
admirer of big sea fish, and in the East had tried for vari- 
ous reasons to take a horse mackerel on a line, and made 
some interesting experiments with sharks, many of these 
latter coming to my bag in Southern waters, so I could 
claim fairly and without egotism to know something 
about the pulling and game qualities of big fish, having 
taken every large fish of consequence from Maine to 
Florida. But this black sea bass of Santa Catalina capped 
the climax. 
I am not going to tell of my own victories and defeats 
with the hand-line, of the 347-pounder I took or the 280- 
pounder that took me, or the various other adventures I 
have been fortunate in experiencing during the last five 
years in Santa Catalina waters, but to give my observa- 
tions of the capture of the bulkiest fish I think that ever 
fell before a light rod reel. 
To those who have never seen the black sea bass in its 
prime, I would suggest as a companion a small-mouth 
black bass. Imagine such an one of 61bs. suddenly en- 
larged to a length of 6ft. and a weight of anywhere from 
200 to 5001bs. Give it a fine blue eye, a rich chestnut 
color, a powerful, dogged, determined appearance and 
you have the black sea bass or Stereolepis gigas of Santa 
Catalina waters. Endow this creature with the strength 
of a colt, a remarkable agility and you have the game. 
In the summer of 1894, 1 spent the season at Avalon, 
the headquarters of the island which has grown to be the 
fashionable resort of Southern California— a delightful 
spot in summer and more so in winter— and which is con- 
nected to the mainland by good steamers, the trip across 
occupying about two hours and a half. Early in the sea- 
son Major Charles Viele of the Fifth Cavalry, one of the 
most skillful fishermen in the West, came for the summer 
fishing and made a fine record with yellow-tail, doing 
nothing but rod and reel fishing. At the start the Major, 
after hearing some of my black sea bass stories, said it 
was fine sport but was degraded by the hand line, and 
then and there announced that he would take a bass on a 
light rod if it took all summer. 
The feat was considered so impossible that the Major's 
friends took it up as a stock joke, and for two months he 
bore it good-humoredly, during which time he made re- 
peated attempts, but all to no purpose — an aggravating 
thing, as every few days gigantic bass were brought in 
and suspended in front of the hotel, when the Major's 
friends would pleasantly call his attention to them and 
smile. One wag said that he had ordered a Norway pine 
for a rod and a donkey engine attachment reel for the 
Major, and there were endless suggestions as to how the 
thing was to be done. I am glad to say that I always 
thought he could accomplish the feat. 
