Mabch zS, 1905.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
217 
miration at its gaminess and began to develop an amiable 
weakness which I confess to — wishing so game a creature 
might escape; but the cobia was hooked, and, fighting 
to the last, it came slowly in, always hunting for some 
coral head or some old root on which to cut the line. But 
I led it up the reef, and having no gaff, hauled it on to 
the sands of Long Key. There in the shallows I took 
base advantage, and as the fish doubled and thrashed, 
grasped it by the throat and dragged it up the sandy 
slope, as fine a game fish as one could wish in a thousand 
ye^rs. 
It was nearly five feet in length, must have weighed be- 
tween 20 and 30 pounds, and when fresh had two remark- 
abfy distinct stripes from head to tail, one passing through 
the eye. The head was flat, the back a rich dark green, 
a reflection of the Zostera that grew in its meadows. 
Over its neck was a dark collar-like mark; but the most 
striking feature was the tail, which was twice as large as 
that of a pike or maskinonge of that size, which served 
to detract from the general size of the fish, and explained 
its fighting quality. One good whisk of that organ, and 
el carte conada would shoot ahead like a cannon ball. 
Its dorsal and ventral fins were large and sail-like, the 
highest point being amidships. The head was sharp, but 
flat, the lower jaw protruding, expressing determination, 
the eye bright. In a word, this cosmopolite, this fish that 
is found in many seas under many names, this game crea- 
ture with few kinsmen, and rarely taken with the rod, 
was a game fish in every sense, and that night, when it 
was baked and served on a pine plank with a Havana 
lemon in its mouth, I found compensation for the crime 
of taking its life. Later I caught a number of cobias, 
which made splendid battle for liberty, while several 
caught me unawares. 
The fish has all the fierceness of the maskinonge, which 
it resembles in a general way, and I invariably found it 
lying in the lee of some old wreck or mangrove root, 
ready to dart out at prey of various kinds. I lured it 
^ith live bait, spirit crabs — in fact, the latter were irre- 
sistible — and live sardines were fatal to its peace of mind. 
One of the charms of this great reef was the variety 
of its game. Something new was always turning up. In 
drifting along the edge of the reef one morning I found 
a remarkable forest of sea fans. They were at least three 
feet-in height. I dived down to see if I could not wrench 
some of them off. When reaching the grove I saw upon 
them a number of fan shells that are in a sense parasitic 
on gorgonias; at least I never found them elsewhere; 
about an inch or a little longer in length, of a rich yellow 
hue, in shape like sleeve links, and sometimes used as 
such. They are among the most beautiful of shells, and 
on the yellow gorgonia, from one of which I took five, 
it was almost impossible to distinguish them, so well did 
the colors assimilate with that of this living fan of the 
sea. 
While diving for these shells and enjoying the clear 
water that changed its temperature so quickly ten feet 
below the surface, I heard as I came up a peculiar roaring 
sound. It came rapidly, like the rustle of dried leaves on 
an autumn day, then increased until it became a roar. As 
I climbed into the dinghy I saw on the adjacent Long 
Key a region of foam on the otherwise clear water reach- 
ing from the end of the island alongshore for some dis- 
tance and fifty feet out into the lagoon. In a few minutes 
the dinghy shot_ into the center of the disturbance, and I 
found myself in a school of large cavally or jacks 
(Caranx hippos), a fine fish of indomitable spirit. They 
had surrounded a school of sardines, and the noise was 
occasioned by their rushes along the surface in search of 
their prey. 
Having a rod at hand I cast on the edge, the game 
striking on the second, nearly jerking the rod from me. 
It made a splendid rush out and around, taking several 
hundred feet oi line and making the reel hum. As a 
demonstration of power it was magnificent, and before I 
could stop the rush the big jack turned of its own voli- 
tion and carne in like a race horse, passing under the 
dinghy. I think the line must have been cut by the hun- 
dreds of jacks dashing to and fro; in any event, we 
parted company. The demonstrations became so extraor- 
dinary that I poled the dinghy through the throng of 
fishes, hauled her on the beach, and literally waded out 
inta the school, rod in hand. 
It was an absurd position for an angler, as all I had to 
do was to stoop down and pick up the jacks, which I 
shortly did, grasping them by the tail. I fancied that 
some of them gave me an electric shock as I held them, 
the fish wriggling violently. Perhaps it was fancy, but 
anyone who has attempted to hold a freshly-caught bonito 
by the tail will recall the peculiar sensation. The beach 
was lined with a mass of sardines three feet wide. Utterly 
terrorized, they were packed in a solid mass, so that I 
stepped on them and could pick them up by hundreds, as 
they paid no attention to me. Into this and the outer 
masses of apparent millions the jacks were plunging. The 
desire for carnage had seized them, and long since 
satiated with food, they were now killing for the mere 
lust_ of it, and rapidly the water became painted encar- 
nadine, while a ribbon of blood marked the long and 
sinuous shore line. 
As I waded out into the throng, the jacks completely 
ignored me; they repeatedly struck my legs, and I easily 
caught big fellows by the tail and lifted them where they 
were massed. In a few moments they apparently had 
driyen the sardines inshore, where they formed an almost 
solid line about two or three feet thick, which they now 
charged with great fury, with the result that they threw 
themselves high and dry upon the sands. I saw as many 
as fifty cavallies, weighing from seven to twelve and 
some fifteen pounds, bounding up and down on the white 
sand,! so reaching the water again, their silvery sides, the 
dark "green of their backs and the flashes of vivid gold of 
their fins presenting an animated spectacle. I had heard 
Bob;, speak of "jack beats," the noise of which could be 
heard a mile distant, and had considered it a reef fish 
story,^ but here was the reality to confound the skeptic, 
and I soon saw my men coming across the channel. They 
had heard the deafening roar from the other key, and in a 
^ short time were in the thickest of it. 
'■- ' They pulled up the boat and rushed into the "beat," 
catching the jacks by the tail, tossed them out upon the 
■ sands hy the dozen, jacks being in demand at any and all 
-■ times. Other spectators began to appear— every gull, peli- 
can and man-a'-war bird on the reef within a radius of 
three miles seemed to scent the prey, and the water was 
soon covered with them, creating a scene difficult to 
describe and beyond the bounds of imagination. 
For twenty minutes the roar continued, then the jacks, 
apparently worn out or satiated, drew off like cavalry and 
finally disappeared; but for a long time the sardines - 
hugged the shore and permitted the birds to gorge them- 
selves upon them. The jacks had demoralized them so 
utterly that they ignored other foes. I recall Isaac 
McLellan's verse: 
"Swift speed crevalle over that watery plain, 
Swift over , Indian River's broad expanse, 
Swift where the ripples boil with finny hosts, 
Bright glittering they glance; 
And when the angler's spoon is o'er them cast, 
How fierce, how vigorous the fight for life! 
Now in the deeps they plunge, now leap in air, 
Till ends the unequal strife." 
The poet of the rod must have seen a jack beat in the 
happy land of fishes, where butter is a drink and milk 
grows on trees. Nearly every day in May and June the 
roar of a "jack beat" could be heard on the reef, and I 
can compare the peculiar fascination it exerted only to 
that of a fire to some people, whO' rise at any hour of the 
night to indulge in the gratification of seeing the flames 
lick up house or forest. I rarely missed a jack beat, and 
often lying off a school had sport that would have 
charmed the most critical angler, as the jack is the in- 
carnate spirit of war. The word defeat is not in his 
vocabulary. He may be outfought, but he is never de- 
feated; he may have been whipped, but he has never dis- 
covered it. 
There are several varieties of jacks. One, the jurel, 
which Chief called the Cajinua, was a splendid game, 
and with a lo-ounce rod I found the smaller ones delight 
makers. 
I had a strange experience a few nights ago. The 
nights have been clear and beautiful, with a full moon, 
and Bob proposed that we run down tO' Marquesas Keys, 
some forty miles to the eastward. We started in the 
afternoon, running before the wind. The water was 
smooth, and when the moon came up every wave seemed 
to catch its effulgence and change to silver, while the Gulf 
itself, that silent, mysterious stream flowing along so 
quietly, was ablaze with phosphorescent light. We ap- 
peared to be sailing down a river of silver, when suddenly 
a deep black mass caught my eye dead ahead, a black hole 
in the river of moonlight it appeared; yet around the 
lower line the phosphorescence blazed. 
Bob hauled the sloop into the wind, and a few minutes 
later we rounded " up alongside the hulk of a large 
schooner, a total wreck, drifting along in the great river 
or stream that poured through the Straits of Florida to 
sweep up the coast. 
She was half full of water and the waves were sloshing 
over the deck. Bob ran alongside and I went aboard. 
The vessel had evidently been struck by a hurricane 
somewhere, as the masts were broken off flush with the 
deck, and her rigging had gone with the masts. She was 
deserted, and was the picture of desolation; yet appar- 
ently her hull was sound. The cabin was half full of 
water, and chairs and clothing were washing about, noth- 
ing being disturbed. She had the appearance of a 
ship that had suddenly been deserted, every man leaving 
her without going below. There was not a living thing 
to be seen except a tarantula, which, when I placed it in 
a saucer, could touch the edges all around with its furry 
legs. The crew were either drowned, or supposing that 
the vessel was sinking, they had taken to the boats, leav- 
ing her a wreck and a menace to navigation. She hailed 
from the island of Trinidad, and was loaded with a cargo 
of jelly and brandied fruit. We stood by her some time, 
then sailed east, where we reported the wreck, and a few 
days later she was towed into port. The sale of that 
wreckage ruined the Key West and Havana markets for 
guava jelly for many a day. 
The keys of this reef have been the scene of many 
tragedies. There is little doubt that freebooters and 
pirates frequented them in the early days, the harbor of 
Garden Key being eminently fitted for a refuge in days 
when there were no long range guns or steamers. There 
are several entrances to the first harbor, so that a fleet of 
schooners could easily elude the crew of a large vessel. 
In the period up to i860 the reef was dotted with wrecks 
after a hurricane, and many wreckers made their head- 
quarters at Key West. 
Th eir skippers seemed to have developed a sixth sense 
which enabled them to scent a wreck. Wrecks in the early 
days were often prearranged. A ship was heavily insured 
and deliberately wrecked. In 1903 I passed the reef to 
the west of Loggerhead. The sea was making a clear 
breach over it, and the teeth of the coral was plainly 
visible, though the Gulf was perfectly smooth. In a 
word, no one could fail to recognize the spot as deadly 
in the best of weather ; yet in 1862, during my first trip 
to the reef, I saw a big ship under full sail crash into this 
coral reef on a bri.ght day. Twelve hours later she was 
surrounded by a fleet of wreckers that came steaming 
down from Key West like birds of prey. 
[to be continued.] 
The Fly-Castmg: Townament. 
While the fly-casting competition in connection with 
the New York Sportsman's Show attracted much interest 
and resulted in the making of notable records, much dis- 
satisfaction has been expressed, both by participants and 
spectators, with the facilities provided for the contests. 
The casting was done over an elevated tank, which was 
sadly deficient in length for the skilled work of the long 
distance casters ; and by reason of its elevation above the 
floor was beyond the view of spectators except from the 
galleries. The fly-casting, it is pointed out, is always a 
drawing card, and it deserves the most perfect arrange- 
ment practicable to be secured. All who are interested 
in the sport will hope that another year the provision 
made for the competitions will be more adequate. As an 
outgrowth of the competitions, a fly-casting club is form- 
ing, of which particulars will be given in our next issue. 
Economic Aspects of National Fish 
Culture and Acclimatization.* 
BY HUGH M. SMITH. 
The question is often asked, "Does government fish- 
culture pay?" or, "Are the economic results of national 
fishculture commensurate with the cost?" The people 
who entertain doubts on this point are mostly those 
who have not taken the time or had the opportunity to 
familiarize themselves with what has been attempted 
and what has been accomplished by the national and 
State fish commissions. 
Much evidence can be adduced to show that the fish- 
cultural operations of the general government are of 
direct financial benefit to the country at large. The 
results, in the case of some species, have been so 
striking and so widespread that it would be almost as 
supererogatory to refer to them as to discuss the utility 
of agriculture; in the case of other species there can be 
no doubt of the value of the work, although it may be, 
only occasionally possible to distinguish the effects of 
human intervention on the fish supply from those due to 
natural causes. Some of the important results of the 
Commission's efforts, which have previously been cited 
in the reports, may appropriately be again referred to, 
if only to draw attention to the continuance of the results. 
The leading river fish of the eastern seaboard is the 
shad. No other anadromous species has been more ex- 
tensively cultivated, and none is now so dependent on 
artificial measures for its perpetuation. Inasmuch as the 
principal fisheries are in interstate or coastal waters and 
the movements of the fish from the high seas to our 
rivers and back tO' the high seas place it beyond the claim 
to ownership which might be urged by the various States 
were the shad a permanent resident within their jurisdic- 
tion, it has seemed especially desirable and necessary that 
this species should be fostered bv the general Government 
for the benefit of the entire country. The shad was one 
of the first species whose artificial propagation was taken 
up by the Fish Commission, and its cultivation is to day 
a leading factor in fishery work. Almost every large shad 
stream has been the site of hatching operations, and dur- 
ing the ten years ending in 1903 the number of artificially 
hatched shad returned to public waters by the Govern- 
ment was over one and a half billion. An important point 
is that these eggs are taken from fish that have been 
caught for market, and hence would be totally lost if the 
Commission did not collect them from the fishermen. 
The great multiplication of all kinds of fishing ap- 
pliances on the coast, in the bays, in the estuaries, and 
along the courses of the rivers results in the capture of a 
very large part of the run each season before the shad 
reach the spawning grounds, and hence the natural in- 
crease is seriously curtailed, and, in some streams, almost 
entirely prevented. The steady increase in the shad catch 
in the face of conditions more unfavorable than confront 
any other fish of our eastern rivers is conclusive evidence 
of the beneficial effects of artificial propao-ation. In 1880, 
prior to which year shad cultivation had been on a com- 
paratively small basis, the total yield of this species from 
Maine to Florida was 18,000,000 pounds ; during the four 
succeeding years the supply in many of the streams de- 
creased to such an extent that the abandonment of the 
fishery, as a commercial enterprise, was imminent. From 
1885, when the largely increased plants of fry began to 
produce results, until the present time, the trend of the 
fishery has been steadily upward in every stream. 
Against a product of 18,000,000 pounds, worth $995,000, 
in 1880, is to be placed an. annual catch of over 50,000,000 
pounds, valued at $1,700,000, at the present time. As a 
result of the increased abundance of shad, the cost of this 
toothsome food has been materially reduced, but even at 
the price actually received the value of the increase in the 
annual catch at this time is upward of a million dollars, 
or more than three times the amount expended by the 
Government in the propagation of shad in twenty years. 
Evidence is not lacking to show that the long-continued 
and increasingly extensive fishcultural operations on the 
Great Lakes have prevented the depletion of those waters 
in the face of the most exhausting lake fisheries in the 
world. The luscious whitefish, the splendid lake trout, the 
excellent pike-perch or wall-eyed pike, are hatched in 
such numbers as to assure their preservation without 
further curtailing the fisheries. 
The magnitude of the salmon fisheries of the Pacific 
States has required very extensive artificial measures to 
keep up_ the supply. Hatcheries have been established on 
tributaries of the Sacramento and Columbia, in the Puget 
Sound region, and on some of the short coast rivers ; here 
are taken the eggs of the royal chinook, of the scarcely 
less royal blue-back, and of other species, and here each 
year millions of young salmon are started on their way 
to salt water. Having grown and waxed fat on the rich 
pasturage of the ocean, these fish return to the rivers to 
spawn in from two to four years. Some seasons as many 
as 75,000,000 salmon eggs have been collected, a quantity 
representing nearly 21,000 quarts, or 650 bushels. 
A remarkable fact in the history of the Pacific salmons — 
of which there are five species— is that without exception 
all fish which enter any stream on. the entire coast, from 
the Golden Gate to the Arctic Ocean, die after once 
spawning, none surviving to return to the sea. This wise 
provision of nature to prevent the overstocking of streams 
has been made foolish by the appearance of man on the 
scene ; he not only catches the salmon in the coast waters 
and the lower courses of the rivers with gill nets, seines, 
and pound nets, in the upper waters with the same ap- 
pliances supplemented by the fish wheels, and on the 
spawning grounds with all sorts of contrivances, but, in 
certain sections even carries his foolhardy greed to -the 
extent of barricading the streams so that no fish can reach 
the waters where their eggs must be deposited. 
Natural leproduction, thus so seriously curtailed, is not 
sufficient to keep up the supply in many of the streams 
where fishing is most active, for many of the eggs escape 
fertilization, many more are eaten by the swarms of 
predaceous fishes that haunt the spawning beds, and many 
are lost in various other ways during the long hatching 
*Extract from a lecture by Hugh M. Smith, deputy commis- 
sioner, entitled "How the Government Maintains the Fish Sup- 
ply," delivered before the Geographical Society of Baltimore 
January 1903, and printed in the. Report of the Commission of 
Fxsh and Fishenes, 
