412 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Noy, i8, 1899. 
The Catching; of Micr optcrus. 
BY DR. CHARLKS T. MITCHBLL. 
Inscribed to my fellow anglers, 
!' Angling friends, again I greet > you, 
Greet you with my songs and stories. 
Songs and stories of my idlings, 
Of my boating and my fishing, 
Of my hours of recreation, 
Of my moments of reflection. 
In this pleasant summer season, 
When the days are warm and lengthened, 
When the earth is bright and joyous, 
And the sky is painted bluest. 
In this season of vacation, 
When we weary grow of working. 
Take a resting spell from labor. 
Spend the days in lightsome leisure. 
Songs and stories of our lakeshore. 
Fragrant with the water's odors. 
Sparkling with the love of sporting, 
Sung to music of the wavelets. 
Keeping time with ripples breaking 
O'er the bright and shining pebbles 
On the shores of Chosen Water.* 
When.all Nature beckons, calls us, 
Calls us from our business places, 
From our homes in heated cities. 
From the weary round of fashion. 
To the cozy lakeside cottage, 
Nestling 'neath the leaves and branches, 
'Neath the vine-clad swaying branches 
Of the elm trees, graceful bending. 
Of the pine trees' cooling shadows. 
When the sun is full of brightness 
From its rising to its setting, 
Filling all the earth with gladness. 
Lighting up all dark recesses; 
And the dancing lights and shadows 
Fall in flecks and gleams upon us, 
Through the drooping leafy branches, 
\ ■ As we walk in shaded pathways, 
\ Far along the coving shoreline, 
Tramp along the winding roadway. 
Up the hillside, down the valley. 
Through the glen's romantic archways, 
Midst the growing ferns and mosses. ^ 
And the sky is often cloudless, 
As the full moon sails across it, 
I Floats in dreamy mood above us, 
\. Casts a silvery sheen about us; 
And the moonlight and the starlight 
Fall reflected in the water, 
As we linger near the margin, ^ 
On the sultry summer evenings. 
When the air is soft and balmy. 
Laden with a sleepy mildness, 
' '»^* ■ , Fragrant with the clover blossoms, . 
With the odor of the grasses; 
Tempered by the gentle south wind. 
Cooled by frequent summer showers. 
When the hills are green with verdure 
Of the growing vines and cornfields. 
Dotted yellow by the grainfields. 
Ripening in the golden sunshine; 
And along the country roadsides, 
J Cloudy with the dust of travel. 
All along the old rail fences, "* 
In the most neglected corners, ' 
.* In the tangle of the forest, 
r; ' Bloom the wild flowers in profusion, 
' Striving for the sunny places, 
Breathing forth their sweetest perfume. 
Filling all the air with fragrance. 
Blushing as you look upon them. 
When our little friends, the warblers, 
N Flit in silence through the tree tops, 1 
Busy with their tiny nestlings, 
Filling gaping mouths with food stufl's, 
Teaching them the art of flying. 
And the wild ducks seek the marshes, 
Seek the inlet's swampy borders. 
For their mating and their nesting; 
Where are water lilies blooming. 
Where are reeds and I'ushes growing; 
J Feed upon the wild rice ripening, 
Plume and oil their^ silken feathers. 
When the game birds in the uplands. 
In the cover of their choosing, 
Bring forth broods of downy fledglings. 
Lead them out into the open. 
Guard them from the owls and foxes. 
When the swallows twitt'ring, flying. 
Skim low down above the water. 
Circle in their flight while feeding 
On the insect life about them, ^ 
As the evening's dewy vapors 
Gather on the leaves and grasses. 
When the fishes from the deep pools 
Seek the shallows of the margin. 
Where are schools of minnows swimming, 
Where are wary crayfish hiding, 
Where are luckless insects floating, 
Feed and gorge themselves upon them. 
When at day's decline the outline 
Of the west hill falls in shadow, 
And the sun is slowly sinking, 
Hiding in the deepest valleys, 
Gilding all the sky with crimson, 
Tinging all the clouds with golden, 
Lighting up the whole horizon 
With the grandeur of its painting, 
And the hush of twilight deepens. 
Deepens all the evening shadows. 
Broods in silence all about us,. 
Soothing all unruly wavelets. 
Calming all the undulations. 
Beating down the swells that linger, 
As if pouring oil vipon them. 
Then one feels that old-time passion, 
^,«<iian name (in English) lor Canandaigua Lake. : — 
Often latent in his bosom, 
Since the days of boyhood's playtime, 
Childish days long since departed. 
Youthful days not yet forgotten, 
Welling up with impulse bursting, 
All the bonds of habit breaking, 
And we yield to Nature's prompting. 
Take our rod and go a-fishing. 
Spend a little time in casting 
With the lightest of fly tackle, 
For the gamiest of all fishes, 
For the bronze-back Micropterus, 
Fiercest fighter of all fishes. 
In my boat of pine and oakwood. 
From the truest model fashioned, 
With responsive oars I row me 
Out upon the calm lake surface, 
Shimmering in the setting sunshine; 
Out a little from the shoreline. 
Out beyond the slanting shadows. 
Where the bottom, gently sloping, 
Sinks abruptly from one's vision. 
And the rocks upon the bottom 
Seem as floating dimly past you 
As you slowly glide above them. 
As you silent float beyond them. 
In my hand my favorite lancewood, 
Trimmed with shining bands of silver. 
Bound with silken cord in spaces, 
Strength'ning its elastic fibers, 
Holding rings through which the line slips. 
At the butt the reel is fastened. 
Furnished with a clicking movement, 
That its music may be cheering. 
As the silken line runs through it. 
Leader made of gut of silkworm, 
Fine as spfder's web seen floating 
In the sunshine of the autumn, 
In the days of Indian summer. 
Winged flies from Nature's patterns. 
Brightly colored, deftly fashioned. 
Like real insects flying, 
Buzzing in the drowsy sunshine, 
Sporting in the dreamy twilight. 
From above the dark'ning water, 
Flutt'ring in the breath of evening, 
Down upon the trembling surface. 
Fell the flies as falls the snowflake, 
As a tinted leaf in autumn, 
As the thistledown in summer 
Falls and floats upon the water. 
In a moment, in a twinkling. 
As the flies were slowly sinking, 
I could feel as something tugging, 
Feel the slack line quickly tight'ning. 
As the Indian bowstring tightens; 
f See the bending of the rod tip, 
As the Indian bow in shooting. 
Like the rainbow after raining, 
As the strain increased upon it. 
From the tugging and the straining, 
I was sure 'twas Micropterus, ' 
Biting at my hook of feathers. 
Thinking it some insect floating 
In the still transparent water. 
With a gentle strike I hooked him. 
Gave him line to ease the straining. 
And the clicking reel made music 
As the line ran swiftly through it. 
Rushing wildly to the surface, 
' In his effort to escape me. 
Leaped he straightway far above it, 
Leaped with all his force of muscle, 
In the fierceness of his struggle; 
Then with other tactics strove he 
To outwit the angler's cunning. 
And obtain his wonted freedom. 
But the hook was firmly fastened. 
In his bony jaw was buried, 
Nor his surging, nor his leaping, 
Brought the freedom that he longed for; 
But, instead it served to weaken 
Both his muscle and his courage, _ 
And in spite of all his gameness, ^, 
He must yield to skill and prowess. 
Carefully I reeled him toward me, 
* Keeping taut the line upon him, ^ 
Let it neither slack or loosen. 
Lest by chance he might escape me. 
Through the shallowy depth of water ^ 
I could see him slow approaching, j 
Broken was his warlike spirit, | 
Weary was he from exertion, , 
From the tireless strain upon him. 
Straight into my net I led him, "• 
Safely in my boat I placed him. 
And with quiet exultation. 
With a smile of joy and triumph. 
Looked with admiration on him; 
Praised him for his form and beauty, |' 
Praised him for his gamy tactics, | 
Gave him all the honor due him, 
"Fiercest fighter of all fishes" 
In the lovely Chosen Water. 
Pratt Cottage, Pearl Beach, Canandaigua, Lake, August, 
1899. 
New York Fish and Game League Meeting, 
Seneca Falls, N. Y., Nov. 7.— To the Officers Trustees 
and Directors of the New York State Fish, Game and 
Forest League : You are hereby notified to attend a meet- 
ing of the said officers and trustees of the League above 
named, on the 2'^d day of November, 1899., at the Yates 
Hotel, at the citv of Syracuse, at 12 o'clock M. _ 
All clubs, associations and organizations withm this 
State organized for the purpose of protection of fish and 
game and forests are urged to become members of this 
League, in order to secure united el¥ort in the attainment 
of these objects. Applications for membership should 
be in the hands of the secretary (who will furnish blanks 
and information upon request) _ on this date. They_ will, 
however, be received at any time. 
This meeting is called for consideration of introductory 
and preliminary work of the annual meeting of the 
League, to be held at the -place aforesaid on the 7th day of 
^December, 1899, and for such other business as may 
properly come before the meeting. 
By order of 
Robert B. Lawrence^ President. 
Ernest G. Gould, Secretarj'. 
Muscaloiige from Red Lake. 
Utica, N. Y., Nov. 3.— I mailed you a photograph 
of a 42^^-pound muscalunge that I caught a man car- 
rying through the streets of Theresa day before yes- 
terday. I stopped and took him into a store, had him 
mount a pair of scales, and found that he tipped the beam 
at 17054 pounds. Then, after depositing the fish in the 
window of the post office, I marched the man and stick 
back to the scales, and found they weighed 128 pounds, 
which m.ade the fish weigh 42J/2 pounds. Then I got a 
tailor's tape line and measured the fish, which was 49 
inches long, 23^^ inches girth and 11 inches across end 
of tail. 
Mr. Hiram Town send made the photo with his kodak. 
Last evening I learned that a still larger fish was 
taken ten days ago, also from Red Lake, weighing 46 
A MAN AND A FISH. 
Wm. Sharp and his 42i4-pound muscalonge, caught in Red Lake, 
Theresa, N. Y., Oct. 31, 1899. Length 49 inches,^ girth 23% inches, 
width of tail 11 inches. Weighed by J. L. Davison. Photo by 
Hiram Townsend. 
pounds. I was unable to learn that a small muscalunge 
had been taken this season, which still more convinces 
me that the lake pike (pickerel) have about cleaned 
out the muscalunge from the river and lake, as you 
Avill remember I claimed in my letter to you a few weeks 
since. The muscalunge have gradually decreased as the 
pike have increased in number and size. 
I understand that these waters are to be restocked 
with muscalunge and black bass the coming year; but 
I doubt that it will do any good unless something else is 
put in for the oike to feed on, as, for instance, the 
German carp, as Mr. Mr. Henry Talbott proposes. 
I found the "Grouse" supplement and editorial in my . 
Forest and Stream to-dav, and it is good. 
J. L. Davison. 
The Antelope Park Club. 
Mr. D. C.'Beaman, of Denver Colo., sends us the 
prospectus of the Antelope Park Club, organized to fur- 
nish its members, their famihes and guests a permanent 
outing place at reasonable expense, where the very best 
of stream fishing may be enjoyed every year, as well as 
good grouse and deer shooting while such game lasts 
in Colorado. 
The club now owns in fee simple, free of all encum- 
brance, 160 acres of land in Antelope Park, twenty miles 
above Creede, Colo. On this property is about one- 
fourth of a mile of the Rio Grande River and about three- 
quarters of a mile of Clear Creek. Both streams rank 
with the best fishing streams in the State The other 
property consists of a two-story stone, and log building, 
a two-story and attic log building, a log kitchen, a log 
store house and some log stables. The property is that 
formerly owned bv the Denison Rod and Gun Glub, 
commonly called the Texas Club, and cost them over 
$3,000. . , r 
The Antelope Club is a corporation (not for pecuniary 
profit), and owns the entire property. It is proposed to 
<;ecure the fishing privilege (under the new game law) 
on several miles of the river above and below the club 
propertv and stock both streams every year with at least 
=;oooo fry, so that the fishing will always be the very, 
best and constantly improve. The number of members 
is limited to thirty. The membership fee is fixed at ^50. 
Mr. Beaman will give further .details on mquiry. 
