252 
FOREST AND 
S T R E A M 
June, 1921 
THE LURE OF THE BIGGEST TROUT 
THE MAN WHO WILL LEAVE A STREAM BECAUSE FISH ARE NOT BIT- 
ING TO HIS SATISFACTION WILL NEVER MAKE A GOOD FISHERMAN 
By JAMES T. PRICKETT 
A Trout Stream in Western Virginia 
M Y first experience at trout 
fishing was about fifteen 
years ago when a friend 
and myself sought the then 
wilderness of White-Top moun- 
tain, Southwest Virginia, for a 
few days’ outing. This moun- 
tain, standing near the border- 
land of Virginia, North Caro- 
lina and Tennessee, is the superb 
mountain of the first state 
named above, and a sort of Mec- 
ca for local tourists. We made 
the trip mostly on a logging 
wagon, and put up at a moun- 
taineer’s cabtin, where we lived 
fairly well on bread, milk and 
honey, and found restful sleep 
at night in the little attic above 
the living room, while we put in 
several days splashing down a 
nearby stream for trout. 
Our equipment suited well with 
our wild and primitive surround- 
ings, consisting of poles cut 
along the bank of the stream, 
and hooks and lines bought at a 
country store before starting on 
the trip, while our bait was noth- 
ing more nor less than the ple- 
beian fish worm; in short, the 
same kind of outfit I had used 
when a boy fishing for suckers. 
As I had never fished for trout 
before and my friend posed as 
an expert fisherman, I followed his in- 
structions as how to catch that wily fish. 
All I had to do, he said, was to wade 
down stream, with my line floating well 
out in front of me, and to jerk simulta- 
neously with the biting of the trout. 
No novice ever followed the advice of 
superior wisdom more implicitly than 
on this occasion. I waded and splashed 
down stream; I slipped, stumbled and 
sprawled over boulders slick as glass, 
while all the time I tried to keep my 
hook floating out enticingly in front of 
me. But I had little jerking to do. 
Although the stream abounded with 
trout, they were too wise to be caught 
in such a disreputable manner, and so 
a few fingerlings were all I had to show 
for my three days’ fishing. 
Although the trip was a failure so 
far as trout was concerned, I felt fully 
compensated for my lack of fish by the 
varied and manifold beauties of the 
stream. Rising high up in a gorge, it 
flowed through a primitive wilderness 
of spruce, hemlock and rhododendron, 
and whether sheathed in shadow or 
drawn out bright and flashing in the 
sun, it was of surpassing beauty and 
charm; and while the scream of a bird 
or the noise of some wild animal had 
an alien sound, the deep, many-toned 
monologue seemed to harmonize with 
the scene and gave voice to the very 
spirit of that vast and ancient solitude. 
S EVERAL years passed away before 
I again tried my hand at trout 
fishing, and then in a weak and 
fatal moment I was induced by a friend, 
who, having had some luck catching 
suckers, prided himself on his piscato- 
rial skill, to accompany him on a fishing 
trip to another stream in the same 
mountain wilderness as the first one I 
had fished, but flowing in the opposite 
direction. This stream was represented 
to us as being so full of trout that all 
we had to do was to throw in our hooks 
and jerk them out. 
As my friend had never fished for 
trout before, it was now my turn to act 
the part of superior wisdom by giving 
him the same instructions I had re- 
ceived on the first occasion how to 
catch that ticklish fish. And I felt fully 
competent to be his instructor, for I 
believed, in my happy ignorance, that 
what I did not know about trout fish- 
ing was not worth knowing. The result 
was that after two days’ hard fishing 
we turned our backs on the stream with 
a hurt and disdainful air, being fully 
convinced that some mortal enemy had 
recommended it to us, and that if it 
ever had had any trout in it they had 
all died or been caught long before we 
were born. It never once entered our 
heads th"t our bad luck was not due 
to the scarcity of fish but to our method 
and lack of skill in fishing for them. 
It would seem then that after two 
such disheartening trips I 
would not so much as look a 
trout stream in the face again; 
but that I did, is pretty good in- 
dication that I had the staying 
qualities necessary to make a 
fisherman. For the man who 
will leave a stream half an hour 
after reaching it, if fish are not 
biting to his satisfaction, will 
xiever make a fisherman. He 
may coin a mint of money, but 
you may bet your bottom dollar 
that he will never catch fish to 
do any good. On the other hand, 
if he puts his heart on his hook, 
as John Burroughs says, and 
fishes happily all day without 
a nibble, then he has the quali- 
ties necessary to make a fisher- 
man, and may look forward to 
a happy and contented life. 
So I was induced a third time 
to try my hand at trout fishing. 
My tempter this time was a long, 
lank, lean drummer who came 
into my office late one evening 
and after transacting a little 
business, proposed that I should 
go trout fishing with him the 
following day. As I had just re- 
turned from a fruitless bass-fish- 
ing trip, I was not inclined to 
repeat the experiment. But he 
insisted that I would have no 
such luck if I went with him. He knew 
what he was talking about, as he him- 
self had fished the stream two weeks 
before and never had had such splendid 
luck. The stream, he said, was in easy 
reach by rail, and lif I went with him 
he would insure me a nice string of 
trout to 'astonish the natives when I 
got back. 
These arguments, In connection with 
the persuasive eloquence for which 
drummers are noted all the world over, 
were too great for human flesh to re- 
sist, and almost before realizing what I 
was doing I had consented and was 
making preparations for the trip. 
I N due time we reached the stream 
and began our hopeful undertaking 
of catching trout in greater numbers 
than they were ever caught before. At 
least so great were my expectations. 
My friend having had some little ex- 
perience at trout fishing, gave me the 
only valuable information how to 
catch that fish that I had so far re- 
ceived. He also introduced the live min- 
now to me for bait, which, I thought, 
raised me to the dignity of an expert 
fisherman. 
Although my friend was a lovable and 
genial companion, I never saw a more 
grim and determined fisherman in my 
life. While on duty trying to entice 
some coy trout to come his way, the 
whole attitude of the man, from the sole 
