February, 1919 
FOREST AND STREAIVI 
71 
er,” interrupted Rhoda impetuously. 
“Good philosophy, Miss Barrett. Face 
your fish, Magnhild, and be ready. He 
hasn’t exhausted his ways and means of 
defense. He is deliberately heading for 
those sharp rocks over there by the point 
in hope to cut the line on one of them. 
He well knows every one, and you must 
turn him. Nothing like giving him the 
butt. Remember how it turned your 
trout up the brook, but don’t check this 
fish too violently lest you tear the fly 
from his delicate mouth.” 
“Indeed, I do remember,” and Magn- 
hild at once suited the action to the word. 
After a series of vicious tugs, suggesting 
that he had been there before, shaking 
the taut line as a terrier shakes a rat, the 
giant fish, always met by the give 
of the pliant rod, changed his in- 
tention, and again drove up on 
the tantalizing line. But the doc- 
tor was prepared for this move, 
and three or four of his powerful 
strokes sent the boat well ahead 
while Magnhild reeled, so the sal- 
mon failed to get the slack he 
counted on and which by experience 
he knew meant freedom. 
Thwarted in this movement, the 
desperate fish next bolted across 
the boat’s course for the open lake 
at a rate of speed that fairly made 
the water hiss as the tense line 
sped through it. 
“Hold him tight, Magnhild,” di- 
rected the doctor. “Now, quick, 
take your hand off the reel han- 
dle, he is making for the deep wa- 
ter where he will probably sulk. 
Now press your thumb against the 
line on the spool so that he will 
not get it too easily and lose his 
head again, and rise to the sur- 
face to jump. We have the ad- 
vantage so long as we can keep 
that fellow in deep water. Now 
he is up to his old tricks again, 
following the line of least resist- 
ance and doubling on you. Reel 
quickly and show him you are not 
asleep. And don’t-reel-your-line- 
all-up-on-one-side-of -.the - cylinder, 
else your check-mate is in sight. Look 
out for that; spread your line as evenly 
as you can over the spool. And we must 
follow the fish out into the lake a little, 
so as to relieve the strain on the line.” 
“Why, he has stopped running. Doctor, 
and hangs like a dead weight on the line. 
What is he doing, and what shall I do?” 
“He is sulking. And that will give 
you time to take breath and prepare for 
his next move. Just hold him steady, for 
he is right dovm under the boat now, in 
water fifty feet deep. Take deep breaths 
and rest your arms. When you get ready 
to renew the fight — and you must not 
give him too much time to recover his 
nerve — twitch him. That’s right, a little 
more savagely. It doesn’t stir him, does 
it?” 
“Not in the least.” 
“Wen, I’ll teach you a trick that sel- 
dom fails. When hunting, we sometimes 
strike the trunk of a hollow tree with a 
stone, to start a squirrel out of his hole, 
and it usually succeeds. If you will ap- 
ply this same principle to the present sit- 
uation, you will probably scare your fish 
into another rampage. Tap the butt of 
your rod above the reel plate quite forc- 
ibly with your knuckles. Keep on doing 
it. Doesn’t he respond? A little harder 
then, so that he can feel the vibrations 
through the tense line. He is on the move. 
He does not understand it. He never had 
a minnow in his mouth that stung him so 
cruelly and quivered like that. He has 
made up his mind to change his quarters, 
and so long as he will stay down and ex- 
haust himself by runs near the sandy 
bottom, we shall find no fault.” 
“I think I am good for such runs if 
the tackle only holds.” 
“The tackle is all right, Magnhild. 
There are two things I never economize 
John D. Quackenbos, A.M., M.D. 
in — medicine and fishing-tackle. Life 
may be lost by an insufficient or hypothe- 
cated cheap dose. Big fish often cut ac- 
quaintance because of a flaw in leader or 
line. You are playing him very properly. 
Watch your line and spread it evenly 
over the reel-barrel, recovering it as tact- 
fully as you can. But when you get him 
near the boat, be extra careful! When 
he sees us, he will make a supreme effort 
to escape.” 
“Oh ! look at that beautiful silver fish,” 
cried Rhoda, as she peered into the blue 
water and saw the salmon steered toward 
the surface by the shortening of Magn- 
hild’s line. “He is partly on his side and 
how it gleams !” 
“Be wary now, Magnhild,” continued 
the doctor. “These landlocks are incarna- 
tions of energy, and perhaps he has just 
let you lead him along so that he can take 
in the whole situation, but without any 
intention of surrender. Besides, this 
means a rest for him. I have seen a 
salmon jump out of the boat while the 
successful angler sat admiring its charms 
as it lay apparently dead on the bottom 
board. A flash of purple-blue and silver, 
and he was gone to his captor forever. 
We have no net, remember, and that fish 
must be thoroughly asphyxiated before 
I attempt to take him in out of the wet. 
I believe he is getting ready for a final 
frantic dash; so handle the reel with your 
lightest touch as you gingerly take up the 
line, and don’t hesitate to let him have 
everything his own way when he starts. 
I do not dare to try my landing scheme 
yet, he is far from giving in — and there 
he goes!” 
The reel fairly screamed as the great 
fish tore through the water. “What a 
magnificent cut for the depths. But you 
notice, he did not break. He is losing his 
spirit fast. The next time you 
bring him up perhaps I can lift 
him in.” 
“His run is shorter. Doctor, and 
less spirited. He is giving up. Oh! 
I am so afraid I shall lose him.” 
“The surest way to lose your fish 
after such a glorious battle is to 
lose your head. Don’t be distrust- 
ful, else you mey unconsciously re- 
lax your vigilance and forfeit your 
prize. Reel him slowly and delib- 
erately up toward the boat. Do 
you see him coming?” 
Magnhild stood up, the better to 
obey the final instructions. 
“Yes, I see a white shadowy 
streak away down in the water. 
He is on his side. You can see 
him now, can’t you. Doctor?” 
“Yes, swing the tip of your rod 
as you stand there, toward the bow 
and over my head. He is coming 
completely played out. Bring him 
over a little nearer — no fear of 
rushes now,” and as Magnhild 
drew the fish within arm’s length, 
the doctor, with a dexterity ac- 
quired by long practice, slipped his 
hand under the salmon, balanced 
it nicely in his palm, and before 
it had time to realize what was 
doing, lightly tossed it into the 
boat. The moment the fish touched 
the carpeting, he realized dimly 
that he was* out of his element and be- 
gan instinctively to curl himself for a 
jump, when the doctor shouted, “Cover 
him quick with your skirts, girls! Be 
game, throw your skirts over him, or 
he may fling himself out of the boat!” 
The order was automatically obeyed, 
and the great fish leaped to his death 
against the restraining folds of under- 
muslin. Then the doctor unloosed the 
fly, and to make assurance doubly sure 
struck him a sharp blow on the neck 
with a wooden mallet he carried for the 
purpose, and the three gazed for a 
moment in mute admiration at the lis- 
some figure of one of the gamest of 
his race. 
“And now I’ll weigh him for you,” said 
the doctor, producing from a drawer 
under the seat he occupied a brass fish- 
balance, and hooking it in the upper jaw 
noted the index go dovra to 9 lbs., 14 
ounces. 
“Magnhild, you are a true fisher-maid,” 
(CONTINUED ON PAGE 84) 
