June 17, ipegJIW 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
479 
fighter, and displayed game qualities that raised him to 
a hii;h plalle 111 my estimation. His rushes were almost 
irresistible, especially when bearing off hard, and he 
came in only after hard work with the multiplier, that 
slowly ate up the strands of his life. The big fish 
eircled the boat several times in its undoing, and came 
to the gaff in a gamy fashion. 
When lifted in, it. reminded one of a gigantic sunfish 
of frgsh Waters, being high, short, thickset and withal 
clumsy, a large head, which reaches high up, forming 
. a big hump, not unlike that of the sheepshead of Cali- 
fornia. The anal and dorsal fins point backward, the 
flesh being extended to form a base for them; hence 
the name, threetail, as they really appear to have three 
tails. 
As Long John held it up, it was an attractive fish, 
the upper portion being a dark silvery gray, which 
merged into lighter tints. We dined on lobotes that 
night, but it did not appeal to me after fried grunt and 
broiled young barracuda, though it was by no means a 
poor fish. Up the coast it ranks high ; but its greatest 
value doubtless lies in the scales which are employed 
in the manufacture of flowers and countless impossible 
objects made for the '"'holding up" of the typical tourist. 
My three men were all converts to the rod, and in a 
weak moment 1 loaned a light rod to Long John. He 
beeame excited when he hooked another threetail, and 
broke it fairly at the joint. It is a good rule not to 
borrow a bOat, a horse, a gun Or a rod, and if this 
is adhered to, the good-natured sportsman will not be 
led from the paths of virtue to the devious shades of 
invective. To - see a giant boatman with an 8-horse- 
power thumb glued to the brake pad of your reel strike 
a lo-pound fish as though it were a whale, and hear 
the crash Of your favorite rod, five hundred miles from 
anywhere where it can be duplicated, is to witness real 
grief, not to say despair. If Long John had been a 
Japanese he would respectfully have committed hari- 
kari, and so have gotten his deserts; but he merely re- 
garded the wreck with the remark that he'd "be 
dogged," and took a drink of Pain Killer, doubtless to 
drown his sorrow, and he also swore off on "tackle 
that he didn't understand." 
Hauling the seine was a pastime of the reef. I had 
a long net, and one comfortable afternoon I mustered 
several negro boys from the key and we proceeded to 
surround the mangroves near Bush Key. I had sev- 
eral men on each end rope, and two in the center on 
the inside to lift Out mangrove roots and toss them 
over, while I followed along behind. A more remark- 
able sight it would be difficult to imagine. The place of 
hauling was a favorite feeding ground of mullets, and in 
a short time we had several thousand in the toils, not 
a permanent catch by any means, as they began to 
jump, and soon there was a rippling, scintillating fall 
of mullets as they sprang over the net in'tay direction. 
Garfishes joined them and came riccochetting along 
in a beautiful fashion, and I could readily see how the 
large forms of the Southern gulf could strike and 
seriously injure a wader. I was engaged watching 
them, wading in water about three and a half feet in 
depth, when Chief shouted that there was a big fish 
in the net. That moment a fish, which must have been 
fully six feet in length, vaulted over the line and 
dropped into the water five feet from me, so near that 
the experience was startling. Chief called to me to 
stand back, saying that "old Tom Morales was hit by 
a tarpon standing where I was, the fish crushing in his 
ribs, striking him fairly over the heart." 
I fell back to give the next tarpon sea room, but the 
next big fish in the toils proved to be a shark that 
merely charged the net head on and succeeded in wind- 
ing himself up in such a coil that it took the men nearly 
half a day to uncoil him. We hauled the net slowly up the 
Bush Key beach, and found that we had a marvelous col- 
lection. I believe we had nearly every fish found on the 
great reef, except the robalo, cobia and several rare ones. 
But of grunts, snappers, groupers, angels, porcupines, 
^harks, rays, and others, there was a multitude, rep- 
resenting all the colors of the rainbow. I was hunting 
for new fishes, so we did not haul them on the beach. 
I picked out what appeared to be new ones, then lifted 
.the seine and released them. The following day they 
were back in their old haunts about the mangrove 
roots. 
The leap of the tarpon was the first one of the kind 
1 had ever seen. The fish came out of the water and 
returned like a mullet; in a word, the jump was clean 
cut and graceful, the antipodes of all the frenzied jumps 
I had observed tarpon take. I have seen many tarpons 
in the air on my own hooks and those of fellow 
anglers, but never remember seeing two positions alike. 
There is no stereotyped leap; the fish is crazed, and 
up into the air it goes, doubtless always away from 
the pain center. 
I have seen a tarpon rise bodily five feet into the air, 
swing itself over upon its back, which struck the water 
first. Others came up' head first and turned com- 
plete somersaults in the air. Others seemed to rush 
directly upward and drop tail first. 
I have seen the spectacle of a six-foot tarpon seem- 
ingly poised in midair, fanning it with mighty blows 
and moving along at the same time with expanded gill 
covers, looking like some grotesque Chinese dragon, 
dropping into the sea ten or fifteen feet from where it 
came up. 
; I was told by a boatman that he had seen a tarpon 
make a side leap of fully thirty feet, and from the ex- 
hibitions I have seen, I believe this to be well within the 
possibilities of this wild steed. 
The tarpon is not considered a dangerous fish, from 
the point of actual attack, being a huge overgrown 
herring-like monster, with the mailed armor of a knight 
and the brain of a Sancho Panza, yet I know of no 
■more dangerous fish to gaff and land in a light boat. 
A boat was found adrift in Galveston Bay in which 
ivere the dead bodies of a tarpon and angler. The 
fish had killed the man with a mighty blow; and a 
number of instances are on record where tarpons have 
killed . men by striking them in leaping out of seines. 
I was fishing one day near a verdant angler, who in- 
sisted in following my boat, despite the fact that I told 
him that if I succeeded in hooking a tarpon it would 
probably board him, quoting an instance to prove the 
oossibility. In a few moments he hooked a fish which 
came around in a splendid rush and went quivering 
into the air so near me that I dodged and fully expected 
it to come aboard. We pulled out of range, and stood 
by and watched what was a "fish circus," as the tarpon 
was the master of ceremonies and was having all the 
sport. After half an hour, by a special dispensation, 
he brought the fish alongside and ordered the man to 
gaff it. _ 
Now in this particular locality sportsmen never gaff 
their fish. They towed them in and beached them; but 
our angler insisted upon having the fish taken in out of 
the wet, and hearing the conversation, I told my boat- 
man to row nearer, .so that we could pick them up. 
It was a bad place, for sharks were large and hungry. 
I heard' the boatman explain this, and then saw him 
kick off his shoes, a to me suggestive move, and the 
next moment he jerked a six-foot tarpon into the light 
skiff, a mere apology of a bOat for tarpon angling. 
The result was definite and certain. A fountain of 
oars, chairs, rods, bait cans, gaffs, men and tarpon 
went into the air and fell in a shower, and in the center 
appeared a tarpon rampant, a living steel spring, open- 
ing and shutting, sweeping the decks with all the aban- 
don of a rapid-fire gun on its initial trial. 
It was the most exciting and interesting example of 
ground and lofty tumbling it was every my good for- 
tune to see. It was short and quick— one round — and 
by unanimous consent, the tarpon was declared the 
winner. 
The tarpon is the silver king, the king of game 
fishes; and if all the stories of its struggles for liberty 
could be told and illustrated, the recital would tax the 
credulity of many who do not go down to the sea in 
ships. 
On this portion of the reef the tarpon was not com- 
mon. The great fishes migrate north arid south like 
the birds, and while some always winter on the Florida 
reef, the greater number retire to the south on the ap- 
proach of winter. 
This migration is well defined on the gulf coast, and 
at Aransas Pass and that section the fishes congregate 
in vast numbers, the rod catch there at the time of my 
last visit being (from March 17 to Nov. 28) 659 tar- 
pons. They arrive at the Pass in March and leave in 
November, after the first norther, and it is now known 
that they winter along the Mexican coast and Central 
and South America, especially in the vicinity of Tam- 
pico, where winter fishing is excellent. 
The long and attenuated spit of sand known as Long 
Key, later swept away by a hurricane, was a favorite 
place for beach fishing; but from it extended the 
shallow sandy reef where the horse shark lived, a 
region that gradually deepened to the edge of the chan- 
nel, that abounded in corals of all kinds. 
Midway up the beach, one evening after Chief had 
taken a cast-net of mullets, I baited my hook and cast 
forty or fifty feet out into the reef, and threw myself 
down on the sand among the soldier crabs, to wait. 
The sun was a blazing furnace, the sea a disk of steel, 
the splendid turquoise tint contrasting sharply with the 
pure white of the blended coral sands. 
Along the shore hundreds of snipe and small shark 
birds were running, and seen through the nebulous 
haze of the heat waves, looked as large as curlews. 
Suddenly the line began to run out, and as I responded, 
up into the the air went a tarpon with a swing that 
made my heart seemingly stop and then sent the blood 
madly surging through my veins at racing speed as the 
tarpon hung amid sea and sky, its massive gills wide 
open, so that I caught a glimpse of the sky down its 
throat and out through the slit-like windows of its gill 
arches, its extraordinary mouth wide apart, its hyp- 
notic eyes black and staring, sweeping the air with 
its ponderous tail, sending the drops of water full in my 
face, it was a stupendous spectacle. 
There is no sight just like it in the world of sport; 
no better exhibition of power, as this steel-like spring 
opens and shuts and fans the air. 
Down it fell broadside on, danced along the surface 
for a few feet like a soft-toed wildcat as it leaps from 
a high tree and springs away to bound into the air 
again and again, literally dancing its way across the 
shoal. Now on its tail again, in a series of double 
leaps; on its back in the air shooting upward like an 
arrow, calmly poising perfectly parallel to the water, 
doubling, to unspring like a coil of steel. There was 
not a movement possible to a fish that this tarpon did 
not take in that short and exciting period; but how 
high it jumped, I who saw it all do not say. 
I have the imagination, and am well equipped for the 
attempt, but I am also modest and prefer to see my 
bold and valiant soothsayer and Seminole boatman 
impale himself on the horns of .truth. 
"How high did he jump. Chief?" I asked, breathless 
at the finish. 
"Jump, sir! Why, he didn't jump, sir; he just riz 
twenty foot into the air. I thought he never would get 
down. He needed help to get back into the water." 
"And you, John?" 
Long John scratched his head several seconds, looked 
up in the air to locate something to mentally measure 
by, and finally fixed his blodshot eyes on Loggerhead 
Lighthouse, three miles away. 
"I saw it over the lighthouse. He hit thirty feet, all 
right." 
On hearing this. Bob turned his head aside, whether 
he was laughing or weeping at Long John's lack of 
imagination, I know not; but he turned back and said 
he "wasn't much of a mathematiker, but if that tarpon 
didn't lep fifty feet, he was no judge, and he'd lived 
with tarpon all his life." 
So, gentle reader, take your choice among the experts 
of the outer reef. 
I confess I am no judge of such things. I am not of 
the icy disposition that can coldly figure on a mathe- 
matical problem when my game is in the air. I am up- 
there with him — in the midst of it heart and soul — and 
what I see or think I see is Yankee guessing, pure and 
unadulterated. , , , 
The play of this particular tarpon was. magnificent. 
There was no other word for it; and after the last leap 
this king of fishes made a rush that so diminished my 
line that it forced me far out into the water, waist- 
deep, in a desperate effort to re^:^\\ the channel, where 
the game would liave l^een up. 
By sheer good luck I turned him to the north, and 
-■ fought up the beach, the men following and making 
wild bets on my staying powers. 
I surely had the time of my life with this tarpon, 
and it was give and take, and at one stage of the game 
my elbows touched water and my stock was very low, as 
the tarpon made a rush directly off shore. Then he 
went wildly into the air and came around toward the 
key in a great half circle, and I raced in, taking line 
as I went; and as I struck the shallows. Bob rushed 
in and seized the tarpon by the gills and dragged him 
out upon the sands. 
It is an unfortunate fact that the king of fishes is 
poor eating; but the fish is the gainer, as almost all 
taken are released. 
In fishing near here one day I hooked a lo-pounder, 
a cousin of the tarpon, and literally played my fish in 
the air, a dazzling, whirling dervish, pirouetting, leap- 
ing, caracoling in a maze of contortions, finally flinging 
the hook twenty feet away in the midst of its gyrations. 
I tried it again with a light bass rod and small mullet 
bait, and found that I had discovered a corner of the 
ten-pounders. They invariably went into the air when 
hooked, seemingly with a determination to stay there, 
presenting a bewildering sight. 
A taut line was necessary, as &l\ the dancing had for 
its object the flinging of the hook into space, and the 
bait always, in part or whole, came swinging up the 
line. 
Not far from this happy spot I caught the ladyfish 
up to seven pounds, between which and the ten- 
pounder there was little to chose as to game qualities, 
both ranking with the tarpon as high jumpers, and 
often giving the angler the impression that he is play- 
ing a fish in the air. 
When the extreme low tide came on the reef, the 
low barrier upon which a heavy sea pounded at other 
times, was bare, and I could follow it for a long dis- 
tance. It was made , up of dead coral rock, and was 
literally the framework of a key to be born in the 
future. 
In and among these rocks I found the cyprea, or 
micramock, as Chief called the cowry of other waters, 
and wading out, I could enter the best fishing grounds 
on the reef. 
The water deepened quickly, the bottom being a 
forest of lavender and yellow plumes of the most beau- 
tiful description. Here was a forest of leaf coral, with 
•broad palmate branches, while a few yards beyond rose 
huge coral "heads" four or five feet wide and as many 
high, some being hollowed out like huge vases or stand- 
ing like gigantic Neptune's cups filled to the brim and 
abounding in rare and radiant fishes of many kinds 
and all the hues of the rainbow. 
Hauling the dinghy on the reef, I often waded along 
with the men who carried the rods, and cast out from 
the reef into this wonder land of the fishes; and by 
climbing upon a big head, I could drop my bait in deep 
water, far out into the splendid blue of the Gulf 
Stream. 
Here I found the only shallow-water hogfish I ever 
caught. The richly hued and plumed gallant lived here 
with countless yellow-tails, and angel fishes, proving a 
fine game fish. 
[to be continued.] 
— « — 
Wifd Docks— How to Rear and Shoot Them. 
It is well known that the rearing o.f game in domestication is 
commonly practiced in Great Britain, and especially in England. 
This game, after it has reached maturity, is turned out into the 
coverts, and sooner or later is shot, and finds its way to market. 
The rearing of pheasants has been practiced for many years, and 
the subject is a familiar one. At present it is practiced quite 
extensively in this country. The breeding of partridges and of 
wild ducks in ccnfinement is a much more recent outgrowth of 
the game preserve idea in England. Now, however, it is done on 
a large scale, and Capt. W. Coape Oates has written a little 
book of SO pages, profusely illustrated, to show how it is done. 
, The volume is divided into four chapters, which treat of the 
selection of breeding stock and their liome, laying and sitting, 
hatching and rearing, and shooting. The illustrations are four 
photogravures from drawings by C. E. Lodge, and twelve full- 
page half-tone plates from photographs. 
While the main object of the book is to assist those who wish 
to rear wild ducks to do it with success and economy, considerable 
space is given to the chapter on shooting. Just what this shooting 
is will be new to many readers, and we give the four methods 
described by the author. These are: 
1. Posting the guns at difJerent spots on the margin of a lake 
or near it, and flushing the ducks by means of dogs and beaters. 
2. Teachin.g the ducks to take a particular line of flight by 
means of the use of a horn at feeding time, and then without 
using the horn on the day of the shoot intercepting the birds dur- 
ing their flight. 
3. Catching the ducks beforehand, liberating them in con- 
venient numbers, and then driving them over the guns. 
4. Flight shooting. 
All these methods depend on the fact that the liberated birds 
will fly to their homes; in other words, to the place where they 
have been accustomed to be fed, and so furnish what we call pass 
shooting. The whole matter is very strange to the American 
mind, but it is something that we are likely sooner or later to 
come to. The book is well worth reading. Longmans. Price 
$1.50. 
A Little Garden Calendar. 
A very charming book is a "Little Garden Calendar for Boys 
and Girls," written by Mr. Albert D. Bigelow Paine; it comes 
from the Henry Altemus Co. 
As its name implies, it is a volume dealing with the twelve 
months of the year, and taking up its thread on the first day of 
January, it tells the story of a little garden and of a little boy 
and girl who owned the garden, and of a chief gardener who helped 
them. The author tells in simple language some of the wonders 
of plant life, explains certain easy methods of observation, in- 
cluding planting, caring for and harvesting plants from month 
to month throughout the year. He tells much that is curious 
and interesting about some plants, their family relations, and the 
dependence of many upon man and other animals. Why some 
seeds have wings, why beans and morning-glories twine to tlie 
right, and honeysuckle tO' the left; whether a flower may really 
leason; how some flowers live on other flowers and plants; these 
are some of the things brought out in this very delightful volume. 
The story is told in dialogue, and is continuous, running 
through the months. There is in it much simple botany, and 
many short traditions, fairy tales, parables and the like, relating 
to plant life and origin. 
The illustrations number 46, and are from excellent photographs 
The frontispiece is in color. Henry Altemus. Price $1.00. 
All communications intended for Forest and Stream should 
always be addressed to^ the Forest and Stream Publishing Co, 
New Yorks and aot to any m4ivi(Jt!al connected with the paper* 
