FOREST AND STREAM 
719 
By The Light of the Harvest Moon 
EADER, come with me,” as Doctor 
Henshall says, I would tell you a tale 
of a fish. Not, to be sure, of the 
greatest of the good Doctor’s favorites, but yet 
of one of them, the channel bass. Nor yet in 
the picturesque setting of the tumbling streams 
of Kentucky, nor the beautiful lakes of Wis¬ 
consin or Michigan, but by the sandy shores of 
the greatest fish pond of them all, the vast 
Atlantic. 
During the winter months we hear of the 
channel bass in the Gulf where they call him 
the red fish. About the time the first Florida 
straw berries reach New York he appears at 
St. Augustine and Mayport. In March he is 
skirting the Carolinas, and the Wilmington 
herons meet him between Capes Fear and Look¬ 
out. By June there is said to be a short season 
on the north s ; de of Barnegat Inlet. You see, 
he follows the lucious and ripening berries north¬ 
ward. But after the September equinox the 
largest and huskiest of the migrants are expected 
to strike the Jersey Coast in large numbers all 
the way from Beach Haven to Seaside Park 
and begin to trade southward. I use the word 
“expected” advisedly. The secret of youth lies 
in looking forward. Thus although the Jersey 
surf anglers may die, he never grows old. 
Supper this mellow evening in question was 
a feverish function. The fish had been in a 
well known “hole” just around the south point 
of the inlet the evening before and there was 
a well defined hunch that they would return. 
Every one was too polite to desire to be first 
on the ground of course, 'but yet every one 
was anxious to be second. And so some fifteen 
rods started together for a hole only large enough 
to fish eight. 
The yellow harvest moon, pale that night, 
showed its sharp edge through the dark mists 
along the eastern horizon and took up its ma¬ 
jestic march across the heavens. A gentle 
zephyr fluttered from the south bringing a wel¬ 
come warmth. Lazy seas broke over the point 
and swirled into the inlet. The young flood 
tide was creeping up the sloping beach inch by 
inch as the party reached the hole and began 
to crack crabs. 
“Don’t be in a hurry, boy,” said Captain F. 
“John and I are not going down until about 
ii o’clock. They won’t come into the hole until 
nearly high water and the moon will be almost 
over head then. Sit here and smoke your pipe. 
There will be plenty of time to fish from n 
o’clock until 'three and there will be more room 
in the hole then.” 
As per schedule eleven o’clock found us with 
full bait boxes and rigged for the fray tripping 
along the shores of the inlet as gaily as hip 
boots would permit. We stopped by the lantern 
to bait hooks and pull up our boots. Strolling 
along the lines of rodsters and receiving a volley 
of gentle raillery for being so late and demanding 
in return to see the fish of each I went beyond 
the point without finding room to squeeze in. 
The last man on the line was one of the ladies, 
By “Switch Reel.’’ 
Mrs. B. In response to my inquiry she said 
she thought something had been at her bait so 
I refrained from casting and stood by to await 
developments. 
Soon the Captain came pattering by in the 
wash of the breakers and threw us .a cheery 
word of greeting. About twenty feet further 
on he stopped, squared himself to the sea and 
swung. Presently a little white splash on the 
moon-lit waters showed where the bait struck, 
and would you believe it! Right under that 
splash was a thirty pounder with his mouth open 
waiting! 
“Oho!” sang the Captain, “I’ve got him!” And 
away went the fish toward the south. With the 
line crying “Zit! Zit!” under his thumbs the 
Captain followed the fish into the softening dim¬ 
ness to fight it out far enough away to avoid 
Mrs. B. Took a Look at Her Bait. 
interference with the rest of us. In a moment 
or two he had faded into the distance. 
Mrs. B. took a look at her bait and sighed 
and I put mine out, stepping back to join her 
and speculate on the outcome of the battle. 
Presently a light appeared far across the sands. 
We concluded it was H. and Vic and C. from 
the other house. Bobbing along northward the 
light reached the beach of the inlet and turned 
toward us. Presently it stopped, then it bobbed 
down to the edge of the breakers. There was the 
Captain with his fish on, and with another op¬ 
portunity to play one of his favorite pranks. 
Did he tell them he had one hung? Not he! 
Did they notice it? Not they, for he threw the 
switch on his reel so that the revolving handle 
should not betray him and let the fish run, oh, 
so gently! that no suspicion of the truth entered 
their minds and in a moment or two the lantern 
began again to bob toward us, and we knew the 
Captain had put it over. 
A short distance away it stopped and we could 
see the flickering of legs around it as they pre¬ 
pared for work. Then this flickering stopped 
and the light shone on in its loneliness, and 
three more fishermen were waiting for what 
wonder the sea might send them. 
Minutes ran on and next we noticed a gray 
form on one knee bending over the light. It 
was the Captain unhooking his fish. One by one 
the three others backed into the little circle of 
light, each paying out line as he came and fish¬ 
ing assiduously. And we watched the mute 
tableaux there by the lamp as they congratulated 
the old fish hawk on his luck and playfully 
abused him for the trick he had worked on 
them, until after running his rod belt through 
the fish’s gills he straightened up and came 
toward us the dragging bass leaving a great 
trail on the sands, while the light resumed its 
lonely vigil. 
LAKE KENOSIA. 
Danbury, Ct., May 14.—The laws on most of 
the ponds and lakes are off the first of May. 
There are several near Danbury. The pickerel 
fishing is fine, and the white and yellow perch 
run good. Lake Kenosia is one ideal spot to fish. 
It is three miles from Danbury, a twenty min¬ 
utes’ run on the trolley. It is the only resort 
that people living in Danbury and adjoining 
towns have to go in the summer for recreation. 
The trolley company has laid out as fine a park 
as any in the state, having an open-air theatre 
and spacious grounds, where people can take their 
families for a day’s outing and fishing. In one 
corner of the park is a fine club house with 
spacious verandas, and boats are rented for fish¬ 
ing and boating, and a steam launch. 
On the other side of the lake is the Lake 
House. Hary Eaton, the proprietor, always has 
good fishing boats and bait, and takes a pride 
in seeing that the laws are respected. 
The shores of the lake are lined with some fine 
bungalows, owned by prominent business men of 
Danbury, among them H. R. McChesney. a hat 
manufacturer; Edward Mason, W. T. Buckley, 
Robert Lake and J. Serre. Numerous camping 
parties also line the shores. 
You can see from ten to a dozen boats out 
most any day, and fishermen generally come in 
with a good catch of pickerel or perch. 
Sunbury, Pa., May 14.—Fishing with live bait 
at the point where Cherry run enters Penn’s 
creek, in Union County, O. K. Cowell, of Sun¬ 
bury, ex-state vice-president of the B. P. O. E., 
assisted by Edward Rodgers, and Dr. C. M. 
Thomas, of Sunbury, recently landed one of the 
largest rainbow trout ever caught in central 
Pennsylvania. It tipped the scales at 4V2 pounds, 
and measured 23 inches. The fish was on display 
in the headquarters of the West Branch An¬ 
glers’ Association at Sunbury for several hours 
after the catch. 
