OCTOBER, 1917 
- > 
FOREST AND STREAM 
475 
MY “FOUL HOOKED” MUSKIE EXPERIENCE 
IT IS DIFFICULT TO DESCRIBE THE SHOCK I FELT TO FIND 
MY LURE HOOKED FOUL NEAR THE TAIL OF A 34 LB. MUSKIE 
By LOUIS RHEAD 
A S the trout season wanes, and bass 
fishing is sluggish till the advent of 
colder weather, we aspire for might¬ 
ier game—either to the Lake regions or 
Canada, where it is cool and far from the 
haunts of man, where we hope to meet and 
fight a fish equal, if not superior, to any 
fresh water fish that swims. 
The muscalonge is nowhere abundant, 
like the trout and bass, but plenty of rea¬ 
sonably good angling is to be had all over 
the Great Lake region, in the rivers and 
lakes of Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Min¬ 
nesota, in the St. Lawrence and many parts 
of lower Canada, and especially are they 
gamey in Chautauqua Lake in northern New 
York where the muskie here described was 
caught. It fs the largest member of 
the pike family, and its popular 
name in the “States” is “muskie” 
and in Canada is known as the 
“Lunge.” Its habit is to lie alone, 
solitary and still, among the lily 
pads and water weeds, ready at any 
moment to dart out like an arrow 
shot from a bow, should any wan¬ 
dering fish be so unlucky as to pass 
its abode. A fierce and voracious 
tyrant, by nature ugly and evil tem¬ 
pered, it will seize with a sudden 
rush any living thing, be it fish, bird 
or beast. Dace, chub, carp, suckers, 
the smaller members of its own spe¬ 
cies, frogs, mice, chipmunks, musk¬ 
rats, small aquatic birds and young 
ducks, all find their way into its 
capacious maw. Nothing escapes it, 
for its jaws are furnished with a 
double row of razor-like teeth, to¬ 
gether will snap a fish in two like 
the blades of giant shears. Built for 
speed, with long, sharp nose and 
broqd flanged tail, from eye to tail 
fork a mass of muscle, with the ap¬ 
petite of a wolf, the. cunning and 
capacity of a tiger, with slyness, pa¬ 
tience and unbounded courage it is 
one of the most formidable finned 
things in the waters of the earth. It 
will allow no other fish to remain 
in sight, even those of its own kind. 
Some years ago one of the local anglers 
of Chautauqua Lake caught a muscalonge 
of 50 pounds. In the stomach was found 
another muscalonge partly digested, which 
weighed 4pounds. The big one was a 
female and her victim was a male. I have 
often seen floating at the surface of the 
water remnants and parts of fish, some¬ 
times fish of a fair size, in a dying con¬ 
dition with great pieces cut from their 
bodies, showing plainly the devastating 
work of this fresh water wolf. 
experiments to expel the hook from their 
jaws, they are never tired, fighting as long 
as they have breath. In the best of places, 
muskies are not caught like a string of 
pickerel. One, or two, perhaps three, 
landed after half a dozen strikes, may be 
considered an excellent day’s sport. On 
ordinary occasions when rightly hooked in 
the jaws, its actions at once indicate a long 
and arduous struggle. With its long snake¬ 
like body it is surprising what remarkable 
twists and contortions it can indulge in, 
from the time the barb strikes home, till 
the gaff enters its side. 
It is difficult to describe the shock I felt 
to find my lure hooked foul near the tail 
of a 34 pound muskie. The large curved 
barb entered and securely fastened deep in 
the tough skin of the back and part of the 
dorsal fin bones. On this occasion I was 
alone in a light boat early in the day. 
’Twas but a few minutes after I had the 
artificial minnow playing nicely 60 feet 
from the boat when I saw a great swirl on 
the surface of the water as if made by a 
motor launch, and my reel fairly whistled, 
though only for a few seconds, and then 
stopped; the monster .had missed its aim, 
and on turning, in some mysterious man¬ 
ner, hooked itself by the tail. 
T O capture a big muscalonge by fair 
methods (with rod and line) requires 
considerable skill and adroitness. They 
are extremely tricky and resort to endless 
Fortunately the rod was stout, my reel 
was heavy with a good stiff click. I did 
not then know what was in store for me. 
Twenty or thirty seconds elapsed before 
the fish knew it was hooked. When it did 
there began the most devilish monkeying 
with rod and line I ever experienced. It first 
rose half out of the water. I saw its great 
wide open jaws and golden shoulders, but 
did not see the big minnow in its mouth, 
but down below and along it went at such 
a ripping pace that even with a quick run¬ 
ning reel it was hardly possible to keep 
the rod upright. 
T WO hundred feet away it tore along 
in an exact circle round the boat, 
when suddenly its entire body shot 
above the surface of the water. For the 
first time I realized what was the matter 
to find this heavy fish foully hooked on 
the tail. Getting control of the reel 
with, over one hundred feet of line 
to spare, I had hopes of capture, 
even under such adverse circum¬ 
stances. It again leaped, rolled over 
and over, then doubling upon the 
surface. With grim determination 
I held the line tight to make the fish 
turn towards the boat, which it soon 
did, though swimming low down in 
the water, till within thirty feet of 
the boait it came up suddenly to rise 
above the surface leaping forward 
in a long, straight line, its beautiful 
green mottled sides and golden back 
made me envious to master it. 
I was getting the best of the game, 
slowly but surely drawing it nearer, 
I could feel the lashing tail beating 
hard from side to side of the line. 
Any moment, I feared, but was pre¬ 
pared for that fierce lunge for which 
this fish is so famed. But it did not 
mature. My reel was fortunately of 
good size, and there was the fish at 
last alongside within reach of my 
gaff, a naughty instrument with a 
handle four feet long, which I held 
ready, and at once plunged it with 
all the force I could, driving it 
straight in at the middle of the 
body. 
T HEN it was I realized the difficulty of 
having the hook fixed at the wrong 
end of the fish. With terrific force 
it lashed its tail and shot forward like a 
thunderbolt. My left thumb was useless 
on the reel and my right hand was power¬ 
less to hold the gaff. Away it sailed at 
a clipping pace with my gaff holding fast 
to its side. With many misgivings that the 
fish would escape, I had to again go over 
the same work of hard reeling-in, only it 
had to be done with more care. After in¬ 
finite pains, all tired out and wellnigh 
beaten, with the rod tip deep in the water, 
the fish pulled less and less, and soon it 
was again alongside with the gaff hanging 
down, turning sideways showed the white 
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