444 
FOREST AND STREAM 
October, 1921 
THE KING OF THE TRIBE OF ESOX 
TO CAPTURE A MUSKALONGE ONE MUST BE VERY SKILLFUL AND PATIENT 
AND GREAT CARE MUST BE TAKEN TO SELECT THE PROPER TACKLE 
By AUGUST ULMANN 
O NE dark, moonless night, many, 
many moons ago, a canoe glided 
silently over the glasslike sur- 
face of the St. Lawrence River, 
threading its way very slowly and care- 
fully from rift to rift between the deep 
shadows of the islands. In the bow an 
Indian knelt on one knee with a long, 
springy fish-spear in his hands at the 
ready as his keen eye constantly watched 
for fish in the little circle of light cast 
by a birch-bark torch set on a short pole 
just behind him. In the stern sat a 
squaw, gently paddling with the silent 
Indian stroke in which the paddle never 
leaves the water, but is feathered for- 
ward with the whole blade submerged. 
Not a breath of air stirred to ripple the 
surface of the river, and the deep dark- 
ness of the heavily wooded islands whis- 
pered softly of the night life of the forest 
animals. The passage of the canoe was 
so silent that were it not for the bright 
light of the burning torch its course 
could not be traced. 
A slight tensing of the muscles of the 
quiet figure in the bow warned the squaw 
to pause for a moment. Then the spear 
shot forward and downward and trem- 
bled a moment poised point down till the 
right hand of the fisherman was drawn 
back, and the left hand took its grip 
to raise the fish from the water. The 
supple spear bent in a dripping bow, and 
with a great splashing a fine fish was 
jerked out of the water to swing in a 
half-circle and land gasping and flopping 
in the bottom of the canoe at the squaw’s 
feet. She disengaged the spear and dis- 
patched the struggling fish, and silence 
again reigned as the canoe proceeded on 
its course. This happened some half- 
dozen times until the brave in the bow 
was startled so that even the Indian im- 
perturbability failed him. 
“Huh !” he exclaimed, “Masca nonga, 
longface,” and in his surprise lost his 
chance for a spear thrust. 
The fish that had so startled him was 
tremendous in size. Its head was as 
broad as the Indian’s own and more than 
twice as long, with elongated snout and 
baleful eye. As it swam through the 
circle of light its body seemed almost 
as long as the canoe. After the first sur- 
prise, the Indian’s calm returned and he 
crouched tense and silent at the ready 
for the moment when the fish would turn 
and come again within the reach of his 
spear. Then, as the great head appeared 
in the circle of light, the spear shot for- 
ward, and with unerring aim found its 
mark just back of the fish’s great head. 
The fisherman’s hands changed like 
lightning for the upward heave that 
would jerk the fish out of the water, but 
the spear bent and bent and its point did 
not rise. There was a great swirl and 
a sharp snap as the spear gave way 
under the tremendous strain. The In- 
dian was thrown flat on his back in the 
bottom of the canoe, knocking down the 
pole with the torch in his fall. It fell 
in the squaw’s lap, and she had a few 
very busy moments as she steadied the 
canoe and threw the torch overboard. 
The Indian was on his knees in an 
instant, grasping his paddle, and they 
started in pursuit of the monster fish as 
it struggled and splashed to shake itself 
free of the four feet of spear that re- 
mained firmly fixed in its side. It would 
dive, and then the Indians would halt 
their paddling until they heard again the 
great splashes that indicated where it 
was breaking water in its vain efforts tc 
shake off that terrible barb that was 
gradually sapping its life. More anc 
more its struggles were on the surface 
till after nearly an hour’s hard paddling 
the Indians came up to it, belly up, float- 
ing in its last feeble struggles. A well- 
directed arrow from the Indian’s bow 
finished it, and after considerable effort] 
it was hoisted in the canoe. 
Then two very triumphant Indians be 
gan to paddle swiftly for their lodge, a 
the foot of the great island that divide;: 
the waters as it were into two grea 
rivers. The Indian’s heart swelled witl 
pride, for was he not now the greates 
fisherman of all the Hurons? For hat 
he not captured the king of all the fish ' 
This exploit would surely entitle him t( 
the wampum of a chief, and he would 
sit in the inner circle at all the council 
of his tribe. The squaw sang softlj 
weaving the tale of how her brave hat 
excelled all in prowess and had takei 
the greatest of all fish. Later, after th 
taking of the great fish had been cele : 
brated by feast and song, the new chie I 
arose and spoke. i 
“Brothers, this night have I been bor I 
to great honor, for Manitou, the grea 1 
has strengthened my hand in battle t 1 
conquer the greatest of fishes, Masca ! 
nonga, the mighty; and from this da { 
shall he be known by this name as i . 
the hour of battle the great spirit re | 
vealed it to me.” 
Mascanonga, Longface, has remaine , 
to this day the name of this fish. Th , 
more common name, Muskalonge, is ( 
garbling of the French-Canadian tram j 
lation of Longface, Masque allonge; an ( 
in various localities it is known by vari t 
ous different forms of these two deriva ( 
tions. 
1 
T 1 HE Muskalonge is of the pike famib j t 
A and his scientific name, “Esox nc t 
bilior,”* indicates that he is considere 
the nobleman of his race, as he is greate r 
and stronger than the other varieties, th ( 
pike and the pickerel. The pickerel i , 
* The name masquinongy, used for the Musk 1 
Ionge by Mitchell in 1824 and Kirtland in 183 J 
has priority over nobilior given it by Thompson i 
1850.-— [Editors.] J 
