463 
October, 1921 
FOREST AND STREAM 
ON UPPER MISSISSIPPI 
WATERS 
( Continued from page 447) 
the landing- net under him and the good 
fellow is transferred to the bottom of 
the boat. 
On then up stream as we have drifted 
down a bit. With hard rowing Frank 
clears the top of the wing dam and we 
are in still water again. There is an- 
other nook up there ; and in a few mo- 
ments I have another hooked and after 
a fight he is in the boat. Now then up 
shore: One, Tzuo, Three more come 
in, all fighting to the last ounce of their 
strength ; not one but dies superbly 
game. 
We have acquired eight of them in 
one block length of stream-shore, and 
Frank (sportsman and thorough gentle- 
man ever) courteously announces that 
we have enough and plenty ; so I take 
to catching them merely for the sport 
of it, returning them, regardless of size 
or weight, to the water. Oh, but it is 
hard to do it ! Words of admiration for 
them come to my lips with now and then 
some wild cussing, but it is thrilling to 
see them flash away with a slap of the 
tail and I hope that they will soon for- 
get the sting in the mouth and be there 
to interest some other brother of the 
angle. 
Slow drifting down now. What was 
that swirl in that pocket. A big fellow 
that has cornered a minnow, perhaps, and 
has nailed him ! The fly and spinner 
drops within the radius of a six-inch cir- 
cle at that very spot. No sooner has the 
spinner started to spin that the big fel- 
low has nailed it. So sudden is that 
strike that the rod shoots down to hori- 
zontal and the weight on the end of the 
leader seems to tell you that you have 
booked into a monster. It may be a 
record-breaker ! The line is taut. He 
shakes and tries to get away but of no 
use. The hook is firm in his jaw. 
With a chirr! and a zvliiz-z-z-z! he is 
away, describing a fine circle; then 
down to the bottom, and then he climbs 
the slant like a meteor from below and 
rises fair and clean over the water at 
least two feet. The corn-cob pipe drops 
from my teeth and I cry out: “Frank, 
did you see that!” Frank, always un- 
perturbed, nods his head; that’s all. But 
no doubt his heart is pounding as well 
as mine. 
Down he goes again and fairly blades 
the water in his on-rush which carries 
him into the river so that I have sud- 
denly to turn in the seat and swing the 
rod to that side. Again and again he 
rises and each time as he comes up I 
seek to acquire a mental picture of him 
— as though already I know I will never 
be able to land him ! 
After a time of rising to the surface 
the big fellow suddenly bores down to 
the bottom and there takes to snubbing 
the line with his tail. Under such tac- 
tics the leader (frayed at a certain knot 
on its length), snaps and away goes the 
fish of the season. How much would 
he weigh? Don’t know; but if he would 
not have captured the prize none of 
them would. 
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