740 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Nov. 5, 1910. 
twenty feet ahead and took in once in a while a 
nice trout. My creel held a dozen weighing 
about seven pounds. My friend with whom I 
was staying fished up stream. We met; he had 
twenty trout, all killed with worms, none of 
them averaging mine in size or weight. 
Said F.: “There’s a big fellow in a hole down 
here I've been fishing for—spent a full hour at 
him. He skinned my hooks of about half a 
dozen worms. I broke two hooks in the hole; 
wish you would try him.” 
I tried him; he tried me, and beat me. The 
hole was waist deep, the waters ran swiftly 
through it, and curved around the roots of an 
old cedar tree. 
Taking the tip of a worm, so that it would 
squirm, I fastened it to a big fiery brown hackle 
and let it drift under the root of a tree. A 
gleam of white shot up through the darkening 
waters. I felt a sharp tug and struck. Away 
the fish bolted like a racer down stream. With 
lightning rapidity the thought flashed through 
my brain. How deep is that hole? Can I keep 
my feet in those sharp waters? My friend was 
jumping. “You’ve got him! Take to the creek! 
You’ll lose him if you don’t!” 
My line was running out at a rate that indi¬ 
cated the approaching end, when I plunged in 
to wade—wade did I say? The second step I 
could find no bottom. Throwing myself for¬ 
ward the stream carried me across the hole 
about fifteen feet wide. I kept my rod out of 
the water, and the moment I struck bottom I 
began reeling in, but the line came in slack for 
some feet. My friend on the bank . consoled 
me. “You will lose him! He has your leader 
around that bush.” Too true, I found to my 
■sorrow he had made straight for this piece of 
brush, and with a sharp jerk turned up stream 
again. I saw him as he darted past me, a big 
fresh-run trout, just come in from the lake. 
Wading down I unloosed my leader, found the 
gut snell broken at the hook. It was no use 
storming or saying cuss words. P,oor Anglo- 
Saxon never improves an angler’s temper. I 
registered a vow that Salmo fontinalis was not 
going to beat me again. I proposed to have him 
if it took me all the next day. My dozen trout 
furnished supper for the family. I spent the 
evening boating in the bay with my wife and 
retired to rest none the worse for my wetting. 
The first rays of light streaming in our room 
woke me. Hastily jumping into my fishing suit, 
and without putting on wading boots, I took my 
rod and started on a run down the trail lead¬ 
ing to the creek. I stood above the hole, the 
scene of last evening’s ducking, bending on a 
big white-miller that had just come from the 
maker’s hand, and putting my landing net to¬ 
gether I drew about thirty feet of line from 
the reel and dropped the fly into the broken 
waters. It floated grandly. Foot by foot I 
watched it, giving line as freely as the stream 
carried it along. My eye was peeled; every 
nerve ready to respond to sight or feeling. 
Amid the music such a stream will always make 
when compressed into such a small area, I heard 
a distant “chug” and saw a flash of white. I 
struck sharp and drove the hook home. The 
trout turned to the snarled roots. “Softly, my 
beauty; you beat me yesterday; my turn to-day.” 
I played him carefully against the rush of waters 
and in two minutes he lay under my rod, 
(Continued on page 757.) 
Mr. Walker’s Newfoundland Salmon 
Boston, Mass., Oct. 29.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: I have read the articles pertaining to 
salmon fishing in Newfoundland, and especially 
of the report of my friend, C. DuBois Wagstaff, 
of New York, who killed a 33)4-pound salmon, 
the record then of the year, a female fish of per¬ 
fect form and great beauty. I arrived a week 
after this at Tompkins and fished with him on 
Little Codroy River. After this event he cast for 
five long weeks daily, with only one salmon to 
gaff, but many fine sea trout. While on the river 
Sept. 8, same date as your correspondent who 
wrote of this record fish, I myself hooked at 
Delaneys Point a giant salmon, and after one and 
three-quarter hours of stubborn and an exciting 
fight, it was gaffed and carried down river to 
Tompkins House. Here he weighed 41)4 pounds 
strong after three hours out of water and 
much loss of blood and drying. We allowed by 
advice only one-half pound for shrinkage and 
the official weight out of water is therefore 42 
pounds. This I am told by Judge Prout, of St. 
Johns, and Mr. Mercer, of Marine Fisheries, is 
the largest salmon taken on rod and reel in New¬ 
foundland for all times to date-. The fish was 
47R> inches long, nearly 4 feet, and 32)4 inches 
girth, a female, of bronze and’ silver tints and 
fine form. I made two life-sized drawings of 
this fish and paintings, left with Tompkins & 
Bros. The fish is being mounted by Walter D. 
Hines, of Portland, Me., and will be on exhibi¬ 
tion here by the middle of November. 
While a few fish of over forty pounds have 
been taken in the large rivers of New Brunswick 
like the Cascapedia, Tobique, etc., nothing of this 
size is recorded for Newfoundland. . Mr. Wag- 
staff was present when the fish was brought in, 
and it was weighed three times on different scales 
and steelyards, and seven persons were present 
at the gaffing finale at the pool, skillfully done by 
my guide, Laurence Delaney, of Bay St. George, 
N. F. Photographs were taken by Mr. Wag- 
staff and Captain Burns, of New York. 
Walter M. Brackett, famous fish painter in 
fifty years’ angling, took one salmon of forty 
pounds. 
I also took thirty-three sea trout between July 
27, 1908, and Aug. 1, 1908, in Fox Island River, 
all weighing over three pounds, and on July 28 
I landed a squaretail sea trout of 10 1/3 pounds 
weight. On July 29 I hooked a splendid male 
sea trout, and after three-quarters of an hour 
play landed this superb male fish of great beauty 
in color and shape. Having no scales to weigh 
a fish of this size (on river). I split and dressed 
it, taking out entrails and gills and salting it. 
Three days after it was weighed in this con¬ 
dition (dried) at Roumain’s, near the Gravels, at 
about twelve pounds. The fish by flat outline 
measurement was 31 T 4 inches long, 8(4 inches 
deep (diameter measure), or about 34 inches 
over round of body; about 20 inches circumfer¬ 
ence, 4 t 4 inches through body, allowing shrink¬ 
age and removing intestines. It has been esti¬ 
mated this squaretail sea trout weighed at least 
15 pounds. His outline was one-thir<J larger 
than a record Rangeley, Me., trout in every 
measurement of io)4 pounds and a record trout 
for Newfoundland. 
The above figures are accurate and official as 
taken by me. I am told that Mr. Mercer, Sec¬ 
retary of Marine Fisheries in St. Johns, N. F., 
that although a 50-pound salmon was taken a few 
years ago in a net, the largest before taken by 
rod and reel was thirty-six pounds, taken by Dr. 
Thompson, of Lynn, Mass., assisted by Fred 
Daggett, of Boston, a year ago. Another of 32 
pounds and one of 29 pounds and Mr. Wagstaff’s 
of 33/4 pounds were the largest taken on Little 
Codroy for this year. Previous to the killing 
of my own of 42 pounds on Sept. 8, I landed 
another fine fish on Sept. 13 on the same river 
of 28*4 pounds. My largest salmon killed be¬ 
fore was one of 22)4, another 25, at Falls of 
Humber; one of 24)4 on Grand River, and 18 
pounds on Fox Island River. 
Charles A. Walker. 
Channel Bass on the Jersey Coast. 
Jersey City, N. J., Oct. 28 —Editor Forest and 
Stream: To the hardy band of surf anglers 
who each September visit Barnegat Inlet to 
meet the red denizens of the seething breakers^ 
the channel bass season just ended was not as 
fruitful of results as usual. 
This was apparently due to the condition of 
the beach for five or six miles south of the 
Barnegat Inlet. The usual series of cuts and 
holes were absent, making it difficult for the fish 
to approach the shore without coming over the 
bar 'and receiving a violent pounding. Such 
routes to the beach are undoubtedly avoided by 
the fish, as they'would naturally mean the filling 
of their gills with sand torn from the tops of 
the bars by the heavy seas. 
North of the inlet the beach was much better 
and many of the frequenters of South Beach 
made daily journeys across the inlet for their 
fishing, meeting there the members of the yacht 
and houseboat colony sheltered in the quiet 
waters behind the hook. Reports from North 
Beach, as far north as Seaside Park, indicated 
very fair sport, Herring Cove being one of the 
points mentioned. At this point five fish came 
to one rod in a week. 
One glorious night was enjoyed on South 
Beach, when the patient anglers beached six 
great fish between g p. m. and 1 a. m., by the 
light of the September moon. 
The following is a partial list of the lucky 
ones, with the weights of the fish in pounds: 
Capt. G. W. Fennimore, 22)4, 36, 22, 32, 31; 
Hoffman Allen, 33)4, 33, 30; Robert A. Inch, 27; 
Charles Schucraft, 33; Dr. A. Freeman, 32, 16; 
Ii. W. Gilbert, 32, 34, 26)4, 30; Lou H. Johnson, 
28 ) 4 , 29; Warrep S. Conklin, 32)4; Matt. Strat¬ 
ton, 28; G. M. La Branche, 41; D. H. Tiffany, 
35; Robert Weichers, 31; J. M. Gentle, 28, 30, 
28; Geo. H. Rothacker, 29, 37; Mrs. Alice G. 
Brown, 30; John F. Seger, 37, 29, 38, 42)4, 37; 
Mrs. J. Paul Hoffman, 28; E. E. Spencer, 34, 
30; Joseph G. Skirm, 36)4; Wm. H. Guy, 25)4. 
The above includes only fish taken from the 
beach. The record of the chumming parties— 
Mr. Pringle’s from Tuxedo and Mr. Berman’s 
from the Bronx — are not at hand, but through 
the early part of the season they took very few 
channel bass. It is to be hoped that they were 
rewarded later. Switch Reel. 
All the fish laws of the United Stales and 
Canada, revised to date and now in force, are 
given in the Game Laws in Brief. See adv. 
