68 
FOREST AND STREAM 
February, 1921 
with a quick turn of the wrist the tip 
of the rod was sent upward which im- 
mediately shot down again showing the 
fish was hooked. The line cut sharply 
across stream, then up and around the 
boat twice, Mr. Adams just keeping the 
line taut and watching carefully the 
movements of the fish. “Whatever it 
is,” he said quietly, “it is not large nor 
of the trout family or it would have 
gone either up or down stream at once 
and not in circles.” 
He reeled in the line and told Mr. 
Woodhull to get the net ready. “I 
think we can manage him now, but this 
rod is too light to lift anything from 
the water with.” The net was lowered 
as the fish was led up to it, then a quick 
dip and the fish was laid in the bottom 
of the boat. It was of about one pound 
weight and instantly recognized by the 
lad, who exclaimed: “It’s a white perch! 
I never knowed they’d grab a bug at 
the top of the water afore.” “There are 
many things in nature to learn if we 
look about us,” replied Mr. Adams, 
“and we are never through learning, 
try as we may, there is too much to 
unravel in one short life. Keep the 
boat right where it is. The current is 
moving but little now and there may 
be more fish where this fellow came 
from, in fact, I knew there were more 
there when he hooked, as perch seldom 
or never are alone.” He again laid the 
line lightly across the same spot where 
he hooked the fish and again there was 
a splash and they all plainly saw a 
gleam of silver at the surface but the 
fish missed. Three more casts were 
made without results but at the fourth 
there was a rise and another one was 
hooked and played in the same manner 
as the first one. The fish at once left 
the bank and put up all the battle in 
mid-stream near the boat. In all, four 
fish were taken and all of the same size. 
Then, no more appearing, they drifted 
on down stream, carefully whipping all 
promising spots. 
A S they approached a grassy point 
which ran down to the water’s 
edge and was overhung by a large 
poplar tree Mr. Adams laid out a longer 
cast than usual, his flies alighting close 
to the bank and he began at once re- 
trieving them by a succession of short, 
skipping jerks. There was a swirl in 
the water but no splash and the rod 
went double, the reel set up a screech- 
ing as the fish tore down stream for a 
distance of at least seventy-five feet 
where it plunged into a pool on the 
opposite side of the stream. Mr. Adams 
showed a trace of excitement as he 
said sharply: “Row me down toward 
him quickly, but go quietly; another run 
like that and he’ll smash the rod or 
break the line as he has it most all out 
now.” 
The fish was fighting deep, surging 
first to one side of the pool then to the 
other, the fisherman keeping a taut 
line and reeling as the boat advanced. 
When they were within twenty feet of 
the pool, Mr. Adams said quietly: “Hold 
steady now, right where we are; I may 
drown him in this deep water.” At that 
remark the boy looked up with a ques- 
tioning expression but refrained from 
saying anything, being too much en- 
grossed in the battle. For a few mo- 
ments the fish seemed inclined to sulk 
at the bottom, merely swaying from 
side to side of the pool, then, like a 
rocket, it started up stream, the reel 
singing its song of the chase. The two 
at the oars, taking the cue from a 
glance given by Mr. Adams, began 
backing the boat so that the strain on 
the line was not so great as in the first 
rush. When it reached the spot where 
it was hooked the quarry ran close to 
the bank and became inert. “I do not 
know what it may prove to be,” said 
Mr. Adams, “but it fights precisely as 
I have had salmon do in quiet waters 
like this. Whatever it is it is a dead 
game sport and my hat is off to it, but 
I am more than anxious to secure it.” 
When the boat came to within a short 
distance of where the fish lay, a motion 
from the fisherman caused the rowing 
to cease and he began pumping the fish 
by short pulls on the rod. This dis- 
turbed it and it swung out in mid- 
A flash of silver showed the fish was 
hooked 
stream, then back to the bank when it 
again sulked and was once more 
brought into action by the motion of the 
rod. This time it started down the 
stream again but much slower and 
when part way down to the large pool 
a swirl of the water at the surface was 
seen in which appeared a rigidly set 
dorsal fin, which drew from Mr. Adams 
the whispered comment: “It’s a striped 
bass and a beauty. I knew when it 
first struck that I had a master fish to 
deal with.” 
When it again reached the lower pool 
the boat was close to hand and was 
stopped. While the killing game went 
on many times it came to the top and 
each time the rigidly set dorsal fin was 
in plain view and Mr. Adams, with 
lines of tense anxiety written on his 
face, fought as only one can who dares 
not lose his prize. 
After perhaps a half hour of strenu- 
ous work the fact became apparent to 
the man with the rod that the quarry 
was fast weakening. “Get the net and 
be ready,” he said quietly to Mr. Wood- 
hull. “Lower it gently into the water 
and about a foot beneath the surface 
then hold it perfectly still until I give 
the word, then scoop hard toward the 
fish.” Slowly, foot by foot, the line was 
reeled in, bringing the unwilling victim 
nearer the net. The pliant rod bending 
like a rainbow, taking up instantly 
every inch of slack line given. 
At last it was in sight; its glowing 
eyes could be plainly seen. There was 
fire there still and the fighting spirit 
was not broken. . It was subdued 
through sheer exhaustion, and the head 
and shoulders were at last brought well 
within the rim of the net. “Now!” 
said Mr. Adams sharply, and Mr. Wood- 
hull drove the net back and upward. 
The fish dropped heavily in the bottom 
of the net and was lifted into the boat 
where it lay rolling from side to side, 
unspeakable iridescence of background 
and stripe showing brilliantly in the 
gathering dusk — one of the master- 
pieces of Divine conception. 
To tell which of the trio was most 
pleased would be difficult. The battle 
had been fought to a successful finish 
in a masterly manner by Mr. Adams, 
who, on seeing it safely landed threw 
his hat on the bottom of the boat and 
let out a regular Indian yell, a thing 
totally unexpected from that usually 
sedate man. Then, catching Matt’s head 
between his hands he touselled his hair 
in all directions in his exuberance of 
joy. The boy,*who was down on his 
knees taking in every line of beauty 
of the fish said good naturedly: “Gosh, 
jest ’cause you done somethin’ no other 
livin’ man could’a done with a rig like 
that, I guess, the’s no sense in usin’ 
my head for a football but, jiminy 
crickets, ain’t he a beauty? I never 
seen a bass afore; what’ll he weigh? 
An’ catched on a rig like that! No 
heavier’n a straw much. Gosh, I never 
could a’done it, never.” “It will weigh 
just about eight pounds,” said Mr. 
Adams, “and it is the first one I have 
ever taken on a fly although I have 
known for a long time that they will 
strike at a bright-colored fly just at 
dusk or in the early morning light, 
where the waters are absolutely quiet. 
I have friends who have taken many 
of them but it has always been done at 
the very headwaters of bays like this 
and where both salt and fresh waters 
meet. One might fish this way, too, for 
seasons together at the most promising 
places without getting one and it is 
that very thing that makes; a capture 
like this the more to be prized. If it 
were possible I would send this away 
and have it mounted for my dining 
room.” “How mounted?” asked Matt, 
“you couldn’t keep a fish no time ’thout 
spoilin’.” Mr. Adams explained to the 
lad how taxidermists could skin a fish , 
and draw the skin tightly over a form 
and dry and then paint it in its natural 
colors so that it would stay that way 
for ages. 
M R. ADAMS never tired of telling 
the boy of such things. The boy’s 
walk in life was so narrow his 
desire to learn of the great world of 
which he knew so little, was almost pa- 
thetic. “We will clean and salt this 
(continued on page 89 ) 
