250 
BULLETIN OP THE BUREAU OF FISHERIES 
most of the hook-and-line ice fishing is carried on farther east. A very good descrip- 
tion of the winter hook-and-line smelt fishery in Maine, entitled “Taking smelts 
through the ice,” was printed by the Belfast (Me.) Journal in 1884. An extract 
from this article follows: 
On Monday afternoon a Journal representive took a tramp up the river among the smelt 
fishers. There are twenty-three cosy tents on the ice, fifteen of which are in a cluster, or rather 
in a row, close together off Kaler’s Mill. Four tents are off Beaver’s Tail and the others are 
scattered along the western shore. The fishermen all said “ This is the best season for fish we 
ever knew, or at least for many years.” As soon as the ice was of sufficient strength the fisher- 
men placed their tents thereon. The smelts were there in plenty and took the hook readily. In 
fact, before the river was frozen Mr. Fred Cottrell caught large quantities from the shore with 
a line attached to a pole. Entering the tent of Mr. Joseph H. Trussell, one of the successful 
fishermen, he politely gave up his chair, and with a board across the head of a small keg he impro- 
vised a seat for himself. His tent is a frame about five feet square and six feet high at the ridge 
pole, covered with drilling. The covering is painted to better protect the fishermen from the 
wind. A small coal stove is at one side, the pipe leading out through the roof. The fire not only 
keeps the tent warm but heats the fisherman’s dinner. The floor is boarded, with the exception of 
a square space with a corresponding hole in the ice. Through this opening, and made fast to a rack 
above, four lines are suspended, each having a single hook. The lines are kept down by a lead 
sinker, to the lower end of which the snell and hook are attached. The hooks are baited with clam 
worms dug from the flats. Seated on a chair the fisherman thumbs his line with as much com- 
fort as though by the fireside in his own house. 
Some of the tents are double and contain two fishermen with a double set of gear. The single 
ones are considered the best, as two persons will make more or less noise. The fish bite better on 
the ebb tide when they are moving down the river. This can not always be relied upon, however, 
for some days they take the hook readily, at other times sparingly. It has been observed that 
the smelts bite better on cold stormy days. Last Saturday as many as sixty pounds per man 
were caught. At such times the fisherman has brisk work with his four lines. Mr. Trussell 
thinks there are two different varieties of smelts — one he classes as the school smelt and the other 
as the permanent smelt — those that are always to be found in the river. The school smelt, he 
thinks, moves about from place to place and takes the hooks most readily. This smelt has a 
very light colored back. The fishermen all thought that smelts would be more plentiful in our 
waters if the mill dams were provided with fishways. Goose River, the Wilson stream and Gur- 
ney’s are dammed so that the fish are unable to ascend to deposit their spawn, and are obliged 
to spawn along the rocks, where they are mostly destroyed. * * *. 
The fish are mostly sold to Sleeper and Field of this city, who ship them frozen to the Boston, 
New York and Philadelphia markets. The fish are nicely packed in a box back down, and will 
keep for a long time. 
A still more interesting account of ice fishing appeared in the American Angler 
(Vol. V, Feb. 2, 1884, pp. 72-73). As a matter of history and of early customs it 
seems worth reprinting in full. Its title was simply “Fishing for smelts.” 
“ If any one likes fishing through the ice with the thermometer ten degrees below zero and 
the wind blowing sometimes at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, he can find his ideal sport 
just now on any of the rivers and inlets along the coast of Maine, ” said “ Mort” Scott, well known 
in angling circles in this city, who returned on Saturday from a week’s fishing for smelt on the 
Maine coast. “ Smelt fishing is now at its best up there, but the weather is about at its worst. At 
least in the estimation of the visiting sportsman it is; but those native and to the manner born think 
it couldn’t be better. They don’t seem to mind a little matter such as the mercury registering 
fifteen degrees below, and to see their tents lifted from the ice by the wind and carried upward like 
a balloon is regarded by them as only an episode that adds zest and humor to their enjoyment. 
When I left there last Thursday it was so cold that the holes in the ice froze over nearly as fast as 
they were cut, even with fires in the tents, and to keep them open required a little more labor than 
