396 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sept. 4, 1909. 
ONE HUNDRED AND 
TWENTY 
LONG RUNS 
Of 
One Hundred Straight or 
Better 
Made during present season by shooters who used 
(gPDNt) 
Smokeless Sporting Powders 
Have You Made a CENTURY 
7 
FISHERMEN NEED DIXON’S GRAPHITE 
of ferrules, tangling of line 
and is good for reefer UHBpdaiie-^Get 
free sample and booklet P-52. 
JOSEPH DIXON CRUCIBLE CO. 
JERSEY ( 
N. J. 
Sam Lovel’s Boy. 
By Rowland E. Robinson. Price, $1.26. 
Sam Lovel's Boy is the fifth of the series of Danvis 
books. No one has pictured the New Englander with 
so much insight as has Mr. Robinson. Sam Lovel and 
Huldah are two of the characters of the earlier books 
in the series, and the boy is young Sam, their son, who 
grows up under the tuition of the coterie of friends that 
we know so well, becomes a man just at the time of the 
Civil War, and carries a musket in defense of what he 
believes to be the right. 
Pigeon Shooting 
By CAPT. A. W. MONEY 
A standard book on the sport by a 
recognized expert, covering all phases of 
live-bird and clay-pigeon shooting with 
much that is of value to every man who 
wishes to be complete master of his gun. 
Covers position, guns, ammunition, 
handling, sighting, field shooting, trigger 
pulls, technique and practice. This book 
will soon be out of print. Listed to sell 
at $1. Our price, while they last, 
75 cents, postpaid 
FOREST AND STREAM PUB. CO. 
Danvis Folks. 
A continuation of “Uncle Lisha’s Shop” and "Sam 
Lovel’s Camps.” By Rowland E. Robinson. 16mo. 
Price $1.25. 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
of “Kawhai!” came to me as I ran to help. 
The kawhai is a sea fish, colored like an 
English carp, which during the summer months 
haunts the coast in shoals. Occasionally they 
follow the bait right into a river lagoon, and 
give splendid sport to the fortunate anglers 
who find them. They take a spinning bait 
with vigor. Those that are caught generally 
weigh between 6 and g pounds each, and a 9- 
pound kawhai is a gamer antagonist than a 
trout of equal weight. When I arrived with 
the gaff the fish had finished its third run, and 
M. was giving it the butt for all he was worth 
as he worked it nearer and nearer. At last, I 
thought my chance had come, and waded out 
to gaff. In the eagerness of the moment I 
went too far, and as the stroke was made, a 
waist-high roller nearly washed me off my 
feet. To say the least of it, I was damp, but 
I got the kawhai. 
For more than two hours—until the tide had 
turned—the scene was one of constant excite¬ 
ment. It was hardly possible to make a cast 
without hooking a kawhai, and their first rush 
is a thing to be remembered. There were 60 
yards of spinning line, and about 40 of brown 
water cord backing on my reel, and once a 7- 
pounder took out all except a few yards of 
backing. The join jammed for an instant in 
a ring, and I feared the worst; but it crushed 
through, and in time he was safely landed. 
Knowing that my tackle was strong, I butted 
this fish heavily during the latter part of his 
run, with a powerful 15-foot grilse rod—I had 
to, or he would have broken everything—and 
yet he went on for some distance as if he had 
no connection with me. Each wave left a con¬ 
tribution of kawhai or a silvery trout strug¬ 
gling on the stones; the next wave, advancing ■ 
a little further, received them again, and, as 
though angry at such unceremonious treat¬ 
ment, they would dash at a bait cast near them 
almost before they were properly afloat. 
At intervals a big trout beat in at the mouth, 1 
seeking for fresh water after his ocean trip, 
and announcing his arrival with a floundering 
splash. As a rule, the splash—it was nothing 
like a rise—was repeated at different places 
as he made his way up, and if the minnow 
could be got in front of such a fish a furious 
snatch at the line, followed by a stubborn 
fight seaward, was the almost certain result. 
Several were hooked and captured among the 
waves, but they gave comparatively little 
trouble, and could usually be run up and suc¬ 
cessfully beached. In this way we landed 
most of our fish, and though there were one 
or two losses, it was a quicker method than 
gaffing. The loss of minnows was more seri¬ 
ous. A kawhai (pronounced car-why) has a 
set of teeth like a pike, and if he can close 
them on a trace even of the strongest gut it is 
nipped through as if by a pair of scissors. To 1 
extract a Devon firmly fixed in the mouth of 
one of these fish is about the most prickly op¬ 
eration that I have attempted. 
At length the shoal went elsewhere, and we 
decided that we had done enough. It was a 
starlit night, and not at all dark, but the best 
of the sport was over, and gathering up the 
slain, we journeyed twice to the boat and fer¬ 
ried them over. On the way across a fish 
plunged in the lagoon close to us, and I threw 
a minnow in where he had showed. Instantly 
it was seized, and the trout, played from the 
boat, proved to be a nice 6-pounder, which 
made up my bag to well over 100 pounds. I 
think M. had quite as many; if not, we cer¬ 
tainly had enough, and at 10 o’clock the next 
morning we were safely at home. 
SOME FLIES—AND THEIR MAKERS. 
The carpenter makes the Saw Fly; 
The cyclone makes the House Fly; 
St. George made the Dragon Fly; 
Bellerophon made the Horse Fly; 
The blacksmith made the Fire Fly; 
The grocer makes the Sand Fly; 
The boarder makes the Butter Fly. 
—London Fishing Gazette. 
