218 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Aug. 6, 1910. 
Shrimp may be used, but as they cannot be em¬ 
ployed in surf-casting, they need not be con¬ 
sidered here. At times clams are readily taken. 
For night fishing, spearing and mullet are good 
baits late in the season or during the last weeks 
of October. When to be had, the sand eel or 
sand lance is a prime favorite for either day or 
night fishing, but the bait which is always in 
order and which is never refused when the fish 
are on the feed is the shedder crab. 
Night is far and away the best time for weak- 
fishing, although they bite readily during the 
day, when proper tidal conditions are observed, 
which should be the flood. 
No fish with which I am familiar takes the 
bait more greedily than the weakfish. It never 
condescends to nibble, but seizes the prey with a 
rush, followed instantly by another rush to sea¬ 
ward, which puts to a test the best of tackle. 
These fish at times crowd into the bays and 
rivers in countless hordes, and it is perhaps 
then that their habits may best be studied. Ac¬ 
cording to the best authorities, its time and place 
of spawning is quite uncertain. Of the thou¬ 
sand which have yielded to my rod but very few 
—perhaps not more than half a dozen—con¬ 
tained spawn. Neither in any of the waters I 
have fished over have I met with the fry of the 
weakfish. That gravid fish are occasionally 
taken in the open sea is well known, but at that 
point information on the subject seems to end. 
In bay and river fishing the tackle should be 
light, but strong. The rod should have sufficient 
weight to enable the angler to strike against 
the tide and set the hook firmly. If the sport is 
pursued during the day, a float is undoubtedly 
the proper thing with just sufficient lead to keep 
the bait well down, but it is at night that the 
real joy of weakfishing is to be had. 
With an agreeable companion and a good dry 
boat, row to the haunts of your quarry. Then 
with line stripped of all lead and no float, allow 
your bait to pass out with the tide until at least 
a hundred feet of line is out, then block the 
reel with the thumb. The action of the tide 
will raise the bait to or near the surface of the 
water, and when the weakfish rises he does it 
with a rush second to no other fish. With line 
stripped of all impediments as suggested, the 
sport partakes largely of the nature of fly-fish¬ 
ing. Every quiver is felt as the startled victim 
dashes here and there, endeavoring to release 
itself from a bondage the nature of which it 
does not comprehend, almost invariably vaulting 
into the air, which, if it be moonlight, makes 
a picture whose beauty cannot be adequately de¬ 
scribed. 
As the weakfish is given to feeding largely 
on the flats away from the channels, the angler 
naturally seeks such localities. I have taken 
hundreds of the most beautiful of tide runners 
in water not more than two feet deep, but to 
secure success perfect quiet must be maintained 
in the boat. 
Now let us consider the weakfish as he is, and 
I trust will ever remain, the true “trout of the 
sea.” To me none of creation’s fauna is more 
admirably beautiful. The fish seen in the deal¬ 
er’s stall and the graceful creature just from 
his native element are totally unlike save in 
form. It is only at the moment when he is 
lifted from the water that the weakfish is to be 
seen in all his indescribable beauty. The efforts 
of man to reproduce on canvas the matchless 
silver sheen of his scales as, still wet with brine, 
they throw out an iridescent splendor, result only 
in hopeless failure; and who, by looking, can 
tell where the blush of the pink and the purple 
of the iris begin and end on his perfectly formed 
body, or what artist would care to undertake to 
match the yellow of fin and throat? Science 
tells 11s that the weakfish is not a trout and does 
not even occupy the position of second cousin, 
still it cannot be denied that the contour of body 
and fin of the lake trout and weakfish are very 
similar. 
The appetite of the weakfish is uncertain. 
Hours may be spent without securing a strike 
at a time when thousands of fish are about, and 
then on a sudden they will begin to take the 
bait, however offered. 
It is a question if any member of our salt 
water tribes is as eagerly sought for by as many 
anglers as this fish. Found in nearly all our 
important waterways in the Middle and South¬ 
ern States, and generally regarded as a sure 
biter and always admired for his fighting quali¬ 
ties, the weakfish is voted a royal personage, 
and as such will ever be esteemed by all lovers 
of salt water fishing. Leonard Hulit. 
Stream Pollution. 
New York City, July 23. —Editor Forest and 
Stream: Referring to my article in your issue 
of July 16, relative to stream pollution, there 
recurs to me a somewhat similar experience had 
during that same trip to Sullivan county. 
Cat-tail Brook flows into the Willowemoc 
about three miles east of Roscoe at a small set¬ 
tlement called Hazel, and there, directly at the 
juncture of the two streams, is another plant 
for the manufacture of wood alcohol and char¬ 
coal. The basin into which the residue from 
manufacture flows to filtrate through the sod¬ 
den, poisoned ground all around it is not more 
than twenty feet from the brook and less than 
one hundred feet from the Willowemoc. 
It was the last week in April that I tramped 
three miles up Cat-tail Brook and started to fish 
down. The brook has a very steep descent be¬ 
tween rugged, thickly wooded hills, and for fully 
a mile down holds the character of a true moun¬ 
tain stream, tumbling over huge boulders, glid¬ 
ing over smooth table rocks fringed with drip¬ 
ping moss and often dropping perpendicularly 
three or four feet between ledges. 
I put on my fly leader and cast across a black 
pool under one of these miniature falls. A faint 
splash almost coincided with the touch of the 
tail fly on the water and only a gentle strike 
brought that baby trout clear to the bank. It 
measured less than five inches and its glorious 
dark color threw out boldly the deep gold spots. 
These small fish took the fly voraciously in 
nearly every good place for a mile and a half 
down that stream, but not a single trout meas¬ 
ured over seven inches and only very few 
passed the legal size. Needless to say, they all 
went back into the brook. 
At the end of the first mile they became more 
scarce, but did not increase in size, and by the 
time I reached the second mile end, had practi¬ 
cally stopped biting or entirely disappeared. The 
last mile did not give me one bite or rise, though 
I tried both flies and worms and fished with ut¬ 
most care. 
What makes it most strange is that this last 
portion has all the characteristics of a perfect 
trout stream—a fine, strong flow of water, now 
rocky and swift through scattered timber, then 
swirling silently between grassy meadows. Of 
course the small fish in the upper part of the 
stream are easily accounted for. About one 
mile beyond the point where I began fishing, the 
stream has its inception in a small deep lake or 
pond, and without doubt these small fish run 
down from it each spring. 
But what about the fine lower reaches of this 
stream, barren of every sign of fish? Is it an¬ 
other case of polluted water, similar to that I 
wrote you about on Spring Brook up on the 
Beaverkill? It certainly seems so to me, for I 
do not believe trout will run up this brook to 
spawn, while the water a hundred feet up from 
its mouth drains the poison from these chemical 
works, and furthermore the facts narrated seem 
to confirm this idea. Herbert Janes. 
Mr. Wagstaff’ s Salmon. 
St. John’s, N. F., July 30 .—Editor Forest and 
Stream: Reports from the salmon rivers are 
very encouraging. Most of the large rivers were 
protected at the mouths this season and as a 
result fish of larger size and in greater numbers 
are reported from the principal rivers. 
J. Curran, of Gambo, has assured me that he 
never saw the like of the fish in his neighbor¬ 
hood. He was up one night for a short time 
and caught five splendid fish near the hotel. He 
then broke his rod and had to leave. 
By to-day’s mail I received a letter from C. 
Du Bois Wagstaff, who is. fishing at Harry’s 
River, and the following extract will give you 
an idea of the sport he is enjoying: 
“I am sending you by to-day’s train a salmon 
which I caught last evesing, weighing 24 pounds, 
3914 inches long, 1 foot 10 inches about body 
and 10 inches in depth. I struck him at 5:43 
p. m. and landed him at 8:30 by moonlight. My 
tackle being light, I thought it better not to 
force the fighting. * * * He was out of the 
water ten times and carried out all my line.” 
What do you think of that for an angling 
idyll? Is there any angler who reads this who 
would not like to be near Mr. Wagstaff beside 
the singing river on that glorious moonlight 
night to watch the termination of the contest? 
He complains that many of the salmon bear net 
marks. My opinion is that these fish were 
marked before they entered the river, as many 
of them get marked in the nets and traps of the 
deep-sea fishermen. This cannot well be pre¬ 
vented. 
In the principal rivers this season there has 
been no netting or very little, as the wardens 
have been extra vigilant, and the supervisors 
energetic in seeing them do their work. 
J. O. Wardell and party from Boston caught 
twenty-five grilse on Tuesday last at Crabbes 
River. 
The following report comes from Little River: 
“Three salmon weighing 9, 11 and 15 pounds on 
the 20th, and on the 2i3t two salmon weighing 
9 and 32 pounds were caught by Mr. Stevens, 
an American angler. G. Parkes, one salmon, 
10 pounds; Captain Barron (New York), 5 
pounds.” 
W. J. Carroll. 
