FOREST AND STREAM. 
186 
beauties and charms of color. It was only necessary to 
unreel the line, the strong current carried it out with the 
“chum” and then “Zee ! Zee ! Zee !” the cry of the stricken 
reel rose on the air. 
It is not alwa3^^s true that the largest bait takes the 
largest fish, but I had baited with the quarter-tail of a 
crawfish and hooked the king of the whitefishes. It 
played -entirely on the surface, after the. fashion of a 
bonito, or, as a bonito should, swinging out into deep 
water in a long, splendid resonant rush to the music of 
the reel, then came dashing back faster than I could reel, 
cutting the blue water, now tossing it high in the air, 
trying to reach its home in the kelp bed from which I 
turned it with great good luck. 
This fish was a delight-giver in every sense of the 
word, and it required all the finesse I could muster to 
save the line and day. Soon it came alongside, sheering 
off, displaying all its charms — a radiant and beautiful 
fish — as Joe lifted it in. Three rods were screaming and 
few sea anglers have had better sport; and, doubtless, 
few have even seen this fine game fish that Mexican Joe 
*now held up. 
“Mucho bueno', blanquillo !” he cried. 
“Caulotatilus,” said our scientific angler. 
A beautiful creature it was, the principal tint was the 
most delicate olive, its long dorsal fin, a most sensitive 
organ, tinted with blue, the other fins blue and yellow or 
old gold. 
It was so richly yet modestly colored that I will not 
attempt a description, but the impression was of a flash 
of olive with dashes of blue, orange and pink, a splendid 
eye rich in color and very expressive. 
The head was large, rising in an arch, a fine fish from 
any point of view or standard. It w-as a case of fisher- 
man’s luck. We had found one of those rare and happy 
fishing grounds where there is no waiting, where the 
fishes were impatient to be caught ; the bait being seized 
so near the yacht that we could see the entire play. We 
caught these big fellows until the tide turned, when they 
stopped biting. Then we took the catch ashore and di- 
vided with the herders- — a Robinson Crusoe outfit — that 
lived or existed in the island, hermits and exiles, yet 
happy and contented. 
The whitefish is one of the common forms of the isl- 
ands, found on rocky bottoms and where the kelp is 
thick, and in all sizes from a pound up to fifteen, is a 
game fish. 
I caught one-pounders with an eight-ounce split bam- 
boo rod and fancied I had all the sport a small trout 
afforded, and as they ranged up to fifteen pounds, one 
had a wide range of sport with the rod. 
While casting into the Blailquillos astern I caught an 
occasional glimpse of a large fish darting about resem- 
bling an am,berjack; indeed it was the Pacific amberjack, 
the amber fish or yellow-tail, Seriola dorsalis. 
“You never fool him with a pole,” said Mexican Joe, 
laughing as the absurdity of the idea sank into his mind. 
“He is the strongest fish for his size that swims. I 
see one pull a boy off the beach with a hand line.” And 
as we sat around the drift-wood fire that night Joe and 
the rest told of the wonders of the yellow-tail, and it 
deserved all their encomiums. 
I did not take the old-timer’s advice but rigged my 
rod with a slightly heavier tip baited with a four-inch 
smelt, and the next morning had him row me up and 
down the kelp bed near the shore. 
Mexican Joe had planned to enjoy himself, and as he 
lighted one of my cigars and picked up the oars I could 
see that he was prepared to regale himself with my un- 
doing. 
Down the line we went over as fair a trolling ground 
as one could wish ; the deep olive hue of the kelp on one 
side and above the brown rocks and cliffs climbing into 
the sky and casting deep shadows; on the other the rich 
blue of the ocean as smooth as a mirror. 
Joe pulled slowly and carefully, casting his eyes to 
right and left in search of game, while I watched the 
deep blue of the water, filled with fairy-like shapes of 
tully fishes and other forms. I thought I saw something 
big pass, then Joe stopped rowing and — the rod was 
nearly jerked from my hand,s. I make the confession 
boldly, as I saw the trick played later upon an angler. 
Zee-zee-zee-zee rose on the air, a blaze of sounds sug- 
gestive . of flying brass filings somewhere within the 
mechanism of the rod. 
I confess to a dazed sensation, but I console myself as 
I saw a man — able-bodied and lusty — ^pulled bodily from 
a high wharf by just such a fish, and after twenty years 
of yellow-tail fishing I present my compJliments to this 
fish, which for its size has no equal in the sea for hard 
fighting and staying qualities. 
My fish made a dozen or more of tornado-like plunges, 
each one of which was a nerve tester and which carried 
it down 250 feet into- the blue Kuroi Siwo, then it rose 
with a strange rhythmic tremor coming up the line, and 
made for the. outer sea. In a light boat we might have 
been towed off shore, but Joe kept the stern to the game 
and rowed against it while I played it with all my 
strength, yet I did not bring this gallant fish to gaff for 
thirty minutes. 
It came up to the surface in great bounds ; shot around 
the boat like a trained ringster, plunged down into the 
deep channel again where it sulked like a salmon, to be 
pumped up by heart-breaking effort. Slowly it came up, 
protesting every foot, every inch, repeating its maneuvers 
time and time again. 
I pumped, reeled, played my weary thumb upon the 
leather pad brake; I gave it the butt until the good rod 
creaked and threatened to buckle; and gradually the im- 
pression gained that this splendid amber fish, this yellow- 
tail of San Clemente, was plajdng me. 
When it finally came to gaff it encircled the boat sev- 
eral times, it dodged the ' gaff like a trained trickster, 
tossing, spray full in my- .face, rejecting all overtures 
leading to a surrender, but the big reel was merciless 
and slowly it cam.e in and was gaffed by Joe, who held it 
up that I 'might feast m.y eyes on its beauties .and then — 
tell it. not in Gath— let what Mexican Joe said be buried 
in deep oblivion; then, in; the very moment of trium.ph, 
the unexpected happened, as it. always has. . The jHlow- 
tail, by a remarkable convulsion, threw; out. the hook and 
.incidentally itself overboard. Truly, this is a vale of 
tears. 
Joe, in an heroic attempt to heal my wounds, said that 
it weighed only 13 pounds, and for once I believe a boat- 
man played me false — underestimated the weight of a 
fish, as if that yellow-tail did not weigh 50 pounds I am 
a poor guesser. I am no pessimist; I rejoice it in its 
escape, and my trust that the same -fish may attach itself 
to some fresh tenderfoot along the Santa Catalina 
channel. 
I hardly know what to compare the yellow-tail to. The 
ne.xt one gave me quite as much trouble but I landed 
it in twenty minutes’ hard fighting. Comparisons are 
odious, but the yellow-tail is the bluefish of California 
though a stronger and a far better fighter than the splen- 
did bluecoat that breaks lines and hooks for a living 
along the south New England coast. The yellow-tail is 
the fish of the people, all else may fail; winds may blow 
or give out, tides may be at the flood or ebb, every im- 
possible coi'.oi 1 n may hold;, it may be Friday on the 
13th of Jhe inoiuli, you may have left your horse chestnut 
or rabbit foot at home, but the yellow-tail is biting; it is 
omnipresent and irresistible. 
It seemed to me a sort of mortal sin to kill so beau- 
tiful a fish. So we fished and let them go, and as I often 
hooked the same fish twice and have seen the same one 
hooked three times in an hour, one’s conscience may rest 
easy, as doubtless the yellow-tails were fishing and hunt- 
ing for men and anglers that very day and reported a 
big bag. 
The California yellow-tail is shaped like a bluefish but 
has a larger head in proportion to the body, a powerful 
jaw and a long, continuous dorsal fin, suggesting its 
specific name dorsalis. 
The upper surface, the back, is green in the water, or 
perhaps an olive hue, but when the fish bursts from the 
water and comes in it is a splendid peacock blue; a daz- 
zling creature. The fins are gold; a yellow stripe, tell- 
ing of rank, extends from head to tail along the median 
line. The powerful tail is yellow or golden, belly silver 
of the newest mintage, and the eye — a splendid organ — a 
blaze of color. In brief, the fish is a type of power and 
aggressive activity. 
It is an easy trick to take the yellow-tail in the open 
sea soon after it has arrived from the Cortez Banks, but 
the yellow-tail of the bay and dock at Avalon soon be- 
come educated, and only one wdth some skill and finesse 
can induce this cunning fish to take a hook. I have often 
met great schools of yellow-tails coming in from the 
Cortez Banks in April or May. They covered the water 
for acres and changed the deep blue to gold and green. 
Once on the ground they would break up and parade the 
blue waterways along the hanging gardens of these isles 
of summer. There was no hunting for game at San 
Clemente. We fished and the fishes came. 
Among the hard-fighting fishes was the sheepshead — a 
huge dome-faced fellow with vertical stripes, vivid red 
and black. Its head was a velvet jet black, its powerful 
lower jaw pure white, its eye a thing of beauty and ex- 
pressive of the remarkable intelligence this fish possesses. 
I first found this sturdy fish in a golden corner of the 
kelp forest with a guard of golden angel fishes poising in 
the arches and loops of the great leaves. I dropped my 
bait and saw the strike that was hard and a series of- pro- 
longed rushes ; now out intO' the channel, then, when 
turned, coming in with a rush to try to involve itself in 
the maze of kelp and only coming to gaff after a hard 
and vigorous struggle. I took these fishes up to 18 
pounds, and doubtless the old and large male fishes grow 
much larger. The females might have been taken for 
gray snappers, as they bore little or no resemblance tO' 
the big-jawed male. Some were a rich pink all over, 
some pure w^hite, and the very young were beautiful little 
creatures having blue spots. The sheepshead is one of 
the few fishes that can be tamed, and I have seen one 
that knew its keeper, came at his call, opened its mouth 
wide at the signal, and would poise by the side of the 
tank for its master to scratch its back. This fish rejoiced 
in the name of “Pat,” and was kept for eight years in 
the Santa Catalina Island Zoological Station. It invari- 
ably changed its color when touched or caressed, becom- 
ing almost black where ordinarily it was gray. In con- 
finement it completely lost the brilliant red stripes which 
characterized it in its native wilds, the kelpian forests. 
This fish was extremely jealous. It fought and killed 
every fish placed in a tank with it, but finally made 
friends with a green turtle after satisfying itself that it 
could not bite it. When the turtle was touched “Pat” 
would soon show that he did not like it, and he dis- 
played several more or less human attributes. 
■At San Clemente honors were easy between fishing and 
exploring the sand dunes for evidences of the early in- 
habitants, and numerous expeditions were arranged to 
investigate the mystery that seemed to surround these , 
people that had at one time covered the island with 
towns and villages. 
I found one day on the dune a flat stone and beneath 
it several large haliotis shells containing beads. Mexi- 
can Joe was positive that this marked a grave, so he be- 
gan to^ dig down into the pure sand, coming very soon 
upon a skeleton that had been buried in a sitting position, 
its head between its knees and lashed with seaweed rope. 
Over the body was a native flute, made from a deer’s leg 
bone; behind it another, and in front still another. All 
were inlaid or decorated with mother of pearl fastened 
on with asphaltum. Doubtless the man was a flute-player 
of his tribe, a musician of fame, and his people had 
buried his choice weapons with him. 
Not far from here Joe led us to a place he called the 
“battlefield,” where dozens of skeletons and their parts 
were strewn about. Nearly all the skulls were fractured, 
violently, and many of the bones were broken, showing 
that a struggle of some kind had taken place here. Not 
far away we found the site of a town; the sand was 
black, charred and covered for a long distance with 
stone implements, mortars, pestles, grinding or mealing 
stones, but in almost every instance broken. Some of 
■the bowls were of steatite and two or three feet high, 
others were of a volcanic rock weighing two hundred or 
more pounds. Some were ornamented with pearl and 
there were beads without num.ber. It was very evident 
that several centuries ago a hardy race had lived here 
but had been swept away by some cause unknown. 
The wind was- playing havoc with- these bones, uncov- 
ering them to-day- to cover them* again to-morrow; Not 
far from here we found caves in which were mummified 
dogs, the walls being covered with a tapestry made of 
seaweed. 
“How is it,” I asked of Mexican Joe, “that all thpse 
[Aug. 19, 1905. 
slere implements" are broken?” ' ; 
“The rt-'i,cn is very evident,” volunteered one of our ■ 
party. "Ihese people were evidently attacked by an in- ! 
vadiiig force, driven away, and their household gods de- ! 
stroyed.'” 
.1 locked at Joe for confirmation, but a grin broke over ; 
his :Cocd in'ilrred face. ‘T don’t know who drove them 
off or where they w’ent,-but as for the mortars, I smashed : 
lliem myself and llie rest of the sheep herders helped. . 
We did it to pass away time.” 
1 his was a fact — articles which if collected and pre- 
served could have been sold by these men for thousands > 
of dollars. Men who were living on a desert island and 
receiving but $10 a month had a fortune within their 
grasp and did not know it. Such is life in the wild and ■. 
woolly We.st, and so much for lack of the archaeological 
appreciation along the Kuro Siwo. 
But this should not be laid up against Mexican Joe — 
he was merely “built that way,” and was, and is, one of 
the be.st guides and boatmen in this fair string of islands. ' 
AVe coasted the island, sailed around it, walked over its 
hills and mountains, fished its waters on all sides, and.- 
one bright morning made sail and bore away across the : 
deep San Clemente channel for Santa Catalina that rose , 
out of the haze — like some grim kraken — resting on the 
surafec of the summer sea. 
Mutations of the Silfc Wotm. 
Holderness, N. H., Aug. 6. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: ^ A queer statement, the meaning of which I _ 
should like to see explained, appears in the interesting 
paper of Mr. F. E. Eldred entitled “On Fishing Gut” in 
your issue of July 22. 
The author, after showing the various transformations , 
from the egg of the silk worm moth, round to the pro- I 
duction of another moth, remarks : “It is curious to note ^ 
that the animal never dies, only a series of metamor- 
phoses goes on, by which, apparently, distinct forms of ■ 
life are assumed.” 
I suppose it is only fair to assume that the author means 
that from the egg to the final appearance of the moth ' 
there is through all the changes continuity of life, but he 
doesn’t say this, as indeed there would seem to be no oc- 
casion for doing, and what he does affirm seems to be 
sornething very different and very absurd, and to be un- , 
equivocally asserted. C. H. Ames. 
A Fine String of Bass* 
Theresa, N. Y., Aug. ii. — Yesterday guide Dave Tyler 
brought up from Red Lake sixteen black bass and five 
pickerel (lake pike), the catch of Dr. Glenn Coe, of 
Watertown, and his father. Dr. David Coe, of this village, 
who have been at Red Lake the past week. 
The catch contained seven large and nine small-mouth 
bass, the largest of the large-mouth weighed 5^ pounds, 
and five others weighed over 4 pounds. This is the second 
batch of fish they have sent up the past week. The first 
was composed of nine black bass and eight pickerel, 
which were distributed among their friends here. 
Willis Purdy reported catching eight black bass in Red 
Lake on Wednesday. J. L. Davison. 
An Appreciation. 
Aug. 6 . — Hail and greeting to you! I am here on the > 
shores of Squam Lake trying to recover from what was 
within an ace of prostration by the heat during the 1 
.Sheolic period we had a few weeks ago. I hope to get 
vigor enough presently to send you a few squibs, as 
prompted by good things in nearly every issue of Forest I 
AND Stream, I have wanted to do for many a month. ■ 
The paper gives me the best comfort I get in life — or 
nearly that — and I always bless you for continuing to i 
send it to me. I’m where I can hear the loons “holler” at ' 
almost any hour of the day or night, and it is good for | 
tired nerves. C. H. Ames. 
Log of a Sea Angler* 
Oshkosh, Wis., Aug. 8. — Editor Forest and Stream: \ 
I want to tell you how much I have enjoyed the seriaL 
recently finished in your publication, “The Log of a Sea 
Angler,” by C. F. Holder. I do not recall in years of ' 
reading a more peculiarly fascinating description of a 
trip through the waters covered by him. To a land lub- i 
ber here on the inland waters his story comes with a 
whiff of the bracing salt air, making it doubly interesting ■ 
and satisfactory. May you continue to publish writings 
of this most charming and gifted author. 
Lewis Atherton. , 
New Jersey Fishing. 
Reports from inland fishing resorts of northern New' 
Jersey announce unusually good sport up to the present< 
time. The fishing at Greenwood Lake is said to have ; 
been exceptionally good, and large catfish, wall-eyed pike, ' 
black bass and pickerel have been taken. It is said that 
on Saturday last one angler caught thirty pike-perch.' 
Good fishing was reported last week from Lake Hopat- 
cong, Tuxedo, Beaver Lake and a number of other points. 
It 'Will iDterest Them. 
To Each Reader: 
If you find in the Forest and Stream news or discussions of 
interest, your friends and acquaintances who are fond of out-door; 
life will probably also enjoy reading it. If you think of any who: 
would do so, and care to send them coin cards, which, when re-' 
turned with a nominal sum, will entitle them to one short-time] 
“trial trip,” we shall be glad to send you, without cost, coin 
cards for such distribution, upon receiving from* you a postal 
card request. Or, the following blank may be sent: ■ 
Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 
346 Broadway, New York. 
Please send me. .................. .Forest and Stream Coin 
Cards to distribute to friends. ' 
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