320 
BULLETIN OF THE BUREAU OF FISHERIES 
some one asked, “Where’s Amasa?’’ A glance through the intervening alder thicket brought the 
answer, for in that direction a figure could be dimly seen standing in the brook and busily plying 
a long-handled dip net. This was sufficient to send everybody to the water, and jacks were soon 
flaring at intervals along the banks and showing fish by thousands. And now began the excite- 
ment. Those who had nets worked them, and those who came “just to see the fun” forgot that 
this was their object, and waded into the ice cold water, catching the fish in their hands and 
throwing them ashore. Boys screamed and men shouted. The air as well as water was full of 
fish, and the sedate man, regardless of shoes and stockings, was knee-deep in the current, his hands 
grasping here and there, while the pockets of his overcoat and the crown of his hat were full of 
wriggling fishes. Two dozen fish averaging nearly eleven inches in length, were captured with a 
single sweep of a dip net. The piles upon the bank were fast increasing to proportions far beyond 
a market stall, when a rational thought seened to strike some of the cooler heads. “Let’s stop 
this, boys; it’s nothing short of murder, for we have all we can make any use of.” For once men 
were reasonable, and boys, as usual, followed in their lead. The fish upon the bank were gathered 
up, and Rodger’s Brook with its swarming waters was left to itself. But in a very short time over 
three hundred weight of a species of fish than can hardly be surpassed in table qualities were on 
their way to the village. The express the next morning showed plainly that distant friends had 
not been forgotten, while a large box placed in front of a store with a “help yourself” attached 
was speedily relieved of its contents. 
But this was only the work of one evening, and the next night the fish would be even more 
abundant. The word had spread, and long before dark everything for miles around that could be 
called a dip net was on its way. In place of a net one fellow carried a large corn popper with an 
extension lashed to its handle, and another had a tin pan with its bottom punched full of holes and 
nailed to a pole. Quaint as these implements were, both, it is said, did good service. Through 
the evening and well into the night dozens of jacks and torches sent their brilliant glare along the 
stream and into the surrounding forest. No doubt the excessive light frightened the fish and kept 
many back in the lake, but still hardly an individual went away without fish enough for any 
reasonable demands. On either this or the preceeding night two men, one to carry a light and the 
other to handle the net, could have filled an ox cart. This last statement, of course, is on the 
supposition that the two men could have had the stream all to themselves. As it was, the large 
number of fishermen, especially on the second evening, rapidly scattered the fish and drove the 
most of them back into the deep water of the lake. 
The above is only a partial account of what happened on a single stream, and we hear similiar 
reports from nearly every tributary of the Sebago waters. At Bear Brook, in Harrison, but 
little more than a mile away, the run has been longer and probably even more fish have been 
taken. * * *. 
* * * They are caught some through the ice in winter and in very deep water almost always. 
Those caught through the ice, or with hook and line at any time, are generally larger than those 
taken in the streams in breeding time. On the whole, smelts in these parts are something of a 
puzzle, and the people who see the most of them simply expect them to put in an appearance at 
about such a time, kill them by the thousands when they do come, and think no more about them 
until their next appearance. 
The same author previously wrote in the American Angler (Mead, 1883) : 
Commonly, smelts are caught with dip-nets having long handles, sometimes with the hands, 
and I have heard of the spear being used the present season at Stevens’ Brook. For a few years 
they have been taken in considerable numbers with the line through the ice; but as usual, where 
nets and spears get into use on any fish, line fishings ranks last in order. 
In fishing with dip-net it is customary to pair off — one man takes the net and his comrade in 
battle takes a torch of pitch-wood or something of the kind. The torch-bearer “shines his light” 
so as to give the best view of the brook possible — the “net man” gets his eye on his game, and 
with a long sweep of his net with the current, dexterously bags his fish, “head on.” It is fun for 
the boys when a novice comes to the front and dips against the current and the startled fish scoots 
cleverly off ahead of the net and safely takes a new position. 
