214 
F ORES T A X D 
S T R E A :\I 
May, 1919 
THE BOY AND THE TROUT 
DISREGARDING THE ADVICE OF THOSE WHO WERE 
OLDER AND WISER HE BRINGS HOME A RECORD FISH 
By VIRGINIUS 
O N a certain cold, showery day with 
a gale of wind blowing from the 
east the Boy announced to a group 
of relatives who wei’e spending the day 
in front of the big open fire, that he 
thought he would “go fishin’.” 
“You poor kid! Y'ou can’t catch any- 
thing with an east wind blowing! What 
are you goin’ to catch. Trout?” A volley 
of remarks like the foregoing checked 
his declaration. 
The Boy haughtily grasped his plug 
casting rod and a Hildebrandt spinner 
with a big red and white fly attached and, 
stuffing his casting reel in his pocket, 
left the house wdthout a word. In his 
heart he knew he was foolish to expect 
to catch anything on such a day and he 
knew that the r-eception awaiting his re- 
tuiTi empty handed would be very little 
to his credit. However, he headed for a 
small pond half full of duck-weed in 
which he had caught many little pickerel, 
and resolved to die hard in the attempt 
to bring home a fish. 
Reaching the lower end 
of the pond he decided to 
try a few casts from a 
little water gate which 
stood at the outlet. The 
brush and trees which 
were soaking wet grew so 
thickly around the pond 
that the water gate looked 
like the one best bet. 
After setting up his rod 
he found that there was 
no room to make a cast of 
more than 15 or 20 feet 
but he started in and 
caught several bushels of 
weeds in the first few min- 
utes. Finally he became 
desperate, and removing 
his leader, tied a small 
stone within 4 inches of 
the end of his line and fas- 
tened his lure directly to 
the line. 
This enabled him to 
cast a few feet further 
into a little hole on his 
right. The first cast 
h 0 o k e d a small pickerel, 
and the Boy cheered up 
considerably. 
Casting right to the 
edge of a mass of floating 
weeds on his left his rod 
w’as almost yanked out of 
his hand by a strike. His 
line was simply torn off 
the reel as the fish started 
up the pond. The Boy’s 
heart was pounding like a 
trip hammer as he softly 
breathed : 
“G 0 s h , I’ve got a 
shark!” 
About 65 feet of line ran 
out before he could check 
the fish and before he realized it, the 
“shark” started toward him at a terri- 
fic pace. He managed to reel in his 
line fast enough on the quadruple mul- 
tiplier, and when his fish made a quick 
swirl about 8 feet out in front of him, 
he saw the red and white belly fins of 
a glorious brook trout. 
Then was the time that the fish should 
have made his supreme effort to shake 
loose the hook, for the Boy was paralyzed 
w’ith joy and excitement. A cold sweat 
broke out on his forehead as he realized 
it was the biggest trout he had ever 
seen. 
The fish was darting back and forth 
trying to get into the thick weeds at 
either side of the pond ; finally he started 
up the length of the pond again. The Boy 
began to calm down a little as he checked 
this dash, and he bethought him that his 
landing net was safe at home; also that 
a 5% foot plug casting rod is not the 
best rod on which to handle a big trout. 
Many other thoughts as to the situa- 
tion passed through his mind, and he 
began to repeat out loud “More big fish 
are lost by trying to land them too quick- 
ly than for any other reason.” 
The trout suddenly dashed toward him, 
and at .the last instant he managed to 
turn him aside; the battle would have 
ended there if he had not succeeded in 
doing this, as the fish would have gone 
through the little water gate and it would 
have been impossible to drag him back 
against the rush of water. 
The fish then chose the center of the 
pond for a base of operations, leaving 
this base for a quick dash toward the 
weeds first on the left and then on the 
right. 
The Boy’s wrist began to ache from 
the contsant strain of turning the trout 
just before the weeds were reached. As 
he gradually worked the fish toward him, 
he noticed a bad spot in the old silk cast- 
ing line. 
IS heart stood still for 
for a minute as the 
frayed piece of line 
slowly went down through 
the girdles and onto the 
reel. He had barely started 
to take a full breath of 
relief before the trout was 
tearing up the pond again, 
and when this dash was 
checked the weak spot was 
12 to 15 feet from the tip 
of the rod. 
The Boy aged visibly 
during the next few min- 
utes while that terrifying 
few inches were coming 
back to the reel. 
By this time the fi.sh 
was tiring somewhat — so 
was the Boy, but the latter 
got the fish up close with 
about 5 feet of line out 
and then wondered what 
he was going to do next. 
He carefully lifted the tip 
of the rod to test the 
weight of the fish, and 
then carefully lowered it 
again. That rod would 
never lift that trout out of 
water! The only thing 
to do was to let the fish 
run around in circles until 
he died of old age. 
After some ten minutes 
of waiting for the trout’s 
spirit to pass over the 
great divide, the Boy 
pulled the tired fish within 
reach and leaned over in 
an attempt to get his fin- 
gers in the trout’s gills. 
The fish immediately de- 
cided that he was not 
really so very tired after 
(CONTINXIED ON PAGE 251) 
He surprised them with a trout that measured sixteen inches 
