And now as to reels. A light, single-action click reel is the best and most appropriate for fly-fishing, and may be either all metal or hard rubber and metal combined, the former being preferable. It can be utilized for still-fishing also, where long casting is not practiced. But for casting the minnow a multiplying reel of the finest quality is required, and the thumb must be educated to exert just the right amount of uniform pressure on the spool during the flight of the minnow, to prevent its backlashing and the resultant overrunning and snarling of the line. This can only be mastered by careful practice. As most fine multipliers are fitted with an adjustable click, it can be utilized also for fly-fishing, but it is rather heavy for the lightest fly-rods. While an automatic reel answers very well for trout fishing on small streams, its spring is too light to control the movements of a fish as large and gamesome as the black bass.
It may not be amiss, in this connection, to venture a few remarks on reels in general. Elsewhere I have made the statement that the most important office of a rod was in the management of the hooked fish, and not in casting the fly or bait. Per contra, the chief function of the multiplying reel is in casting the bait, and not in reeling in the fish. The office and intention of the gearing of the multiplying reel is to prolong and sustain the initial momentum of the cast, in order that the bait may be projected to a greater distance than is possible with any single-action reel. This is proven by the fact that there have been several devices invented whereby the handle, wheel and pinion of the reel are thrown out of gear to allow greater freedom to the revolving spool in casting. The theory looked feasible enough, but actual practice demonstrated that without the sustaining aid of the gears the momentum was soon lost, with the result that the bait could not be cast so far. All such devices have now been abandoned as utterly futile.
So far as the skillful management of a hooked fish is concerned, the multiplying reel is no better than the single-action click reel. For tarpon, tuna, and other very large fishes, where "pumping" is practiced on the hooked fish, the largest multiplying reel is of advantage in rapidly taking up the resultant slack line. And so far as "power" is concerned, in reeling in the fish on a strain, the single-action reel has the advantage, for the force applied to the crank acts directly on the shaft of the spool, while in the multiplying reel much of the force is lost by being distributed through the gears to the shaft.
There is a tendency of late years, especially with the heavy rods for tuna and tarpon fishing, and also with the very short rod used in overhead casting for black bass, to place the reel on top with the handle to the right. While that plan is, in most cases, a matter of choice or habit, it is essentially wrong. |The Reel on Top|Neither multiplying or click reels were intended to be used in that position, and because some anglers prefer to place them so is no argument that it is right.
Placing the reel on the top of the rod, on a line with the guides, and grasping the rod loosely where it balances, the reel naturally, and in accordance with the law of gravitation, turns to the under side of the rod. No muscular effort is required to keep it there, as is the case where the reel is used on top, which with heavy reels is considerable. The reel and guides being on the under side when playing a fish, the strain is upon the guides, and is equally distributed along the entire rod, while with the reel guides on top the strain is almost entirely on the extreme tip of the rod, and the friction is much greater.
With the multiplying reel underneath and the handle to the right, the rod is held at nearly its balancing point, with the rod hand partly over the reel, with the index or middle finger, or both, just forward of the reel, to guide the line on the spool in reeling. The click reel being entirely behind the rod hand, and underneath, at the extreme butt, the rod can be grasped at its balancing point by the left hand, and the line reeled with the other.
Where the multiplying reel is placed on top, with the handle to the right, and the thumb used for guiding the line on the spool, there is a constant tendency of the reel to get to the under side, where it properly belongs. To overcome this wabbling of the reel, and to insure more steadiness, the butt of the rod is braced against the stomach by the reel-on-top anglers—certainly a most ungraceful and unbecoming thing to do with a light rod. With the tarpon or tuna rod, and with the reel either on top or underneath, a socket for the rod butt becomes necessary in playing a very heavy fish.
In casting from the reel with a light rod it is turned partly or entirely on top, with the right thumb on the spool. When the cast is made the rod is at once transferred to the left hand in the position for reeling in the line, with the index finger pressing it against the rod. The fish can be played with the left hand, leaving the right hand free to reel when necessary. Or in case a fish is unusually heavy and its resistance is great, the rod can be taken in the right hand, with the thumb on the spool to control the giving of line. When the opportunity occurs for reeling, the rod is again transferred to the left hand.
It is very much easier to use the reel underneath when one becomes accustomed to it, and it has been used in this way for centuries by the British angler. As the reel originated in England, it is to be presumed that the manufacturers and anglers of that country know its proper position on the rod.
While fly-fishing and casting the minnow may be practiced wherever the black bass is found, on stream or lake, there are other methods of angling that depend somewhat on local conditions. Trolling with the minnow or trolling-spoon is sometimes practiced on lakes, as in Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota. There is no skill whatever required for trolling with handline and spoon, as the bass hooks himself, when hooked at all, and is simply dragged into the boat without ceremony. It is a method of fishing that would better be "honored in the breach, than the observance." And as the rod generally used for trolling is rather stiff and heavy, it does not require the skill and cleverness to play and land the fish that are demanded by the light and pliable rods employed in casting the fly or minnow.
Skittering with a pork-rind bait is practiced on some Eastern ponds, and casting the frog overhead with a very short rod is a method that originated with some Chicago anglers. Fishing with one or a group of hooks dressed with a portion of a deer's tail and a strip of red flannel, forming a kind of tassel and known as a "bob," is practiced in the Gulf States. A very long cane rod and a very short line comprise the rest of the equipment. The bob is danced on the surface in front of the boat in the weedy bayous, and is certainly effective in catching bass.
Still-fishing from the bank or a boat may be practiced wherever bass are found. Any kind of rod is used, from a sapling to a split-bamboo, with almost any kind of line or hook, and natural bait of any kind may be employed, with or without a float. It is the primitive style of angling. I think the paradise of the still-fisher may be found on a Florida lake. Anchoring his boat near the shore, just outside of the fringe of pond-lilies and bonnets, he splits the stem of a water lily, takes from it a small worm that harbors there, impales it on his hook, and casts it in a bight amid the rank growth of vegetation, where it is soon taken by a minnow of some sort, which in turn is cast into the deeper water beyond the border of aquatic plants, on the other side of the boat, where a big bass is lying in wait for just such an opportunity. |Ad Infinitum|And so he proceeds, ad infinitum, casting on one side of the boat for his bait, and on the other side for his bass. "First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear."
THE GRAYLING: THE FLOWER OF FISHES
ST. AMBROSE, the good Bishop of Milan, in a sermon to the fishes, apostrophized the grayling as the "flower of fishes," as being the most beautiful, fragrant and sweetest of all the finny tribe. The saintly bishop was quite right in his estimation of the graceful, gliding grayling. It possesses a refined beauty and delicacy that is seen in no other fish, and it well merits its appellation of the "lady of the streams."
Dame Juliana Berners, prioress of the nunnery of Sopwell, near St. Albans, England, was the author of the first book on angling in the English language—printed in 1496. This "Treatyse of Fysshynge with an Angle" has served as the inspiration and model for all subsequent angling authors from Izaak Walton to the present day. Dame Juliana was really the first author to mention fly-fishing in a definite sense, though Ælian in his "History of Animals," A.D. 230, says that the Macedonians fished in the river Astræus with an imitation of a fly called hippurus.
Dame Juliana in her treatise gives a list of "XII flyes wyth whyche ye shall angle to ye trought and grayllyng"; and now, after the lapse of four centuries, artificial flies constructed after her formulas would prove as successful as any of the new fangled, up-to-date creations. In fact, most of her flies are in use to-day under various names; and any of them tied on very small hooks would answer admirably for the graylings of America.
There are three closely allied species of grayling in America, and two or three in Europe. Wherever found they inhabit the coldest and clearest streams. Their distribution in this country is restricted to well-defined and limited areas. One, known as the Arctic grayling, is abundant in Alaska and the adjoining Mackenzie district of British Columbia. A second species is native to Michigan, and the third is found only in Montana.
The first mention of the grayling and grayling fishing in America was that of Sir John Richardson, in the narrative of the Franklin Expedition to the North Pole, in 1819. Dr. Richardson called it "Bach's Grayling" in honor of a fellow officer, a midshipman of that name, who took the first one on the fly. He gave it the technical specific name of signifer, meaning "standard bearer," in allusion to its tall and brilliant dorsal fin.
Regarding the gameness of the grayling, Dr. Richardson says: "This beautiful fish inhabits strong rapids…. It bites eagerly at the artificial fly and, deriving great power from its large dorsal fin, affords much sport to the angler. The grayling generally springs entirely out of the water when first struck by the hook, and tugs strongly at the line, requiring as much dexterity to land it safely as it would to secure a trout of six times the size."
The Michigan grayling, in early days, was known to lumbermen and trappers as "Michigan trout," "white trout," "Crawford County trout," etc. It was first described by Dr. Edward D. Cope, in 1865, who gave it the specific name of tri-color, in allusion to the gay coloration of the dorsal fin. Until recent years it was abundant in streams of the lower peninsula of Michigan rising from an elevated sandy plateau and flowing into Lakes Huron and Michigan and the Strait of Mackinac. In a few streams flowing into Pine Lake and Lake Michigan, as Pine, Boyne, Jordan, etc., it co-existed with the brook trout, but farther south, especially in the Manistee and the Au Sable rivers and their tributaries, the grayling alone existed. In the upper peninsula it also existed in Otter Creek, near Keweenaw.
The Montana grayling, though mentioned by Lewis and Clark from the Jefferson River (to which fact I have recently called attention), was not recognized until seventy years later, when Professor J. W. Milner discovered and named it montanus, in 1872. So now we have the three species, Thymallus signifer, Thymallus tri-color, and Thymallus montanus. The generic name Thymallus is a very ancient one, and was bestowed originally because an odor of thyme was said by the Greeks to emanate from a freshly caught grayling. In our day the odor of thyme is not apparent, though when just out of the water it diffuses a faint and pleasant odor not unlike that from a freshly cut cucumber.
The structural differences between the three American graylings are so slight that they would be scarcely recognized by the lay angler, therefore a general description will probably answer. It is a slender, gracefully formed fish, with a body about five times longer than its depth, and rather thin, or compressed, on the order of the lake herring or cisco, or the Rocky Mountain whitefish. From this slight resemblance there is an erroneous notion quite current in Montana that it is a cross between the whitefish and the trout.
Its characteristic feature is the tall dorsal fin, beautifully decorated with a rose-colored border, and oblong spots of various sizes of rose-pink ocellated with blue, green or white. The height of the fin is about one-fourth the length of the fish; I have several specimens of fins that are four inches tall, from fish not more than sixteen inches long.
When first out of the water the grayling might be compared to a fish of mother-of-pearl, owing to the beautiful iridescence, wherein are displayed all the colors of the spectrum in subdued tints of lilac, pink, green, blue and purple, with the back purplish gray, and a few dark, small spots on the forward part of the body. The graylings are closely allied to the trout family, having an adipose second dorsal fin.
The eye of all graylings is peculiar, the pupil being pyriform or pear-shaped. In all illustrations of American graylings that I have seen, except photographs, the artist has drawn the pupil perfectly round, as in most fishes. The only exception is that of the painting of the Montana grayling, by A. D. Turner, that accompanies the magnificent work, "Forest, Lake and River," by Dr. F. M. Johnson.
The grayling having but few teeth, and those small and slender, its food consequently consists of insects and their larvæ. It prefers swift streams with sandy or gravelly bottom, and loves the deep pools, where it lies in small schools. Occasionally it extends its search for food to adjacent streams strewn with small rocks and bowlders. Its maximum weight is one and a half pounds, very rarely reaching two pounds.
The Arctic grayling is still abundant in the Yukon and other rivers of Alaska. On the contrary, the Michigan grayling, though plentiful twenty years ago, is now nearly extinct, owing to the extensive lumbering industry. All the graylings spawn in April and May in very shallow water, and the eggs hatch within two weeks. As this is also the time when the saw-logs descend the streams on the spring rise, they plow through the spawning beds, destroying both eggs and newly hatched fry. |In Michigan|The annual recurrence of these circumstances for many years has resulted, unfortunately, in the passing of the Michigan grayling. Overfishing and the incursion of the trout have been mentioned as probable causes, but neither factor could possibly have produced the present state of things. The streams have since been stocked with brook and rainbow trout, and efforts are being made to introduce the Montana grayling.
In Montana the grayling is restricted to tributaries of the Missouri River above the Great Falls, except where recently planted. Until within the past few years it inhabited only the three forks of the Missouri—the Gallatin, Madison and Jefferson rivers and tributaries—and Smith River and tributaries below the three forks. It is still abundant in these waters and lives in amity, as it has done for all time, with the red-throat trout and Rocky Mountain whitefish.
That the grayling should inhabit only the widely separated regions of Alaska, Michigan and Montana is remarkable. The Arctic grayling is regarded as the parent stock, while the others are possibly relics of the glacial period. This seems probable in connection with the fact that in the mountains where the sources of the Jefferson River arise, there is a deep lake, some four miles long (Elk Lake), that in addition to grayling is inhabited by the Great Lake, or Mackinaw, trout. This trout is found nowhere else west of the Great Lakes except in Canada.
Beginning with 1874 numerous attempts were made to propagate the Michigan grayling artificially, but after repeated failures all effort in this direction was abandoned. When a station of the U. S. Fish Commission was established at Bozeman, Montana, in 1897, the Commission, under my supervision, began a series of experiments in grayling culture, resulting in complete success, so that for several years millions of grayling have been hatched and planted, and millions of eggs have been shipped to other stations of the Bureau, where they have been hatched and planted in Eastern waters. It is hoped that they may find a suitable home in some of the streams thus stocked. At the Bozeman station they have been reared to maturity, and eggs taken from these domesticated fish have been hatched. This is considered a triumph in fish-culture. Grayling eggs, by the way, are smaller than trout eggs, while the newly hatched fry are only about one-fourth of an inch long, and are quite weak for several days.
The English name "grayling" is doubtless derived from its appearance in the water, where it glides along like a swiftly moving gray shadow. In Germany it is called asche, from its gray or ash color in the water. One of its old names in England on some streams was "umber," a name of like significance.
As a game-fish, the grayling is considered by those who know it best, both in this country and England, when of corresponding size, equal to, if not superior to, the brown trout of England, the brook trout of Michigan, or the red-throat trout of Montana; while as a food-fish it is also better, its flesh being firmer, more flaky, and of greater sweetness of flavor. Likewise one can relish the grayling for many consecutive meals without the palate becoming cloyed, as in the case of the more oily trout. It never has a muddy or weedy taste.
In England there is a prevalent opinion that the grayling has a tender mouth and must be handled very gingerly when hooked; there is no truth in this notion, however, as its mouth is as tough as that of the trout; but as smaller hooks are employed in grayling fishing they are more apt to break out under a strain. For this reason the angler should not attempt to "strike" at a rising fish, but allow it to hook itself, which all game-fishes will do nine times out of ten. The only object in striking is to set the hook more firmly.
Grayling fishing is fair during summer, but is at its best in autumn; and where the streams are open it is quite good in winter. Mr. Dugmore, who made the admirable photograph illustrating this article, did his fishing late in August, in the West Fork of the Madison River, and in Beaver Creek in the upper cañon of the Madison, in Montana. The upper Madison is an ideal home for grayling, the stream being clear and swift with a bottom of black obsidian sand.
Fly-fishing for grayling differs considerably from trout fishing. The trout usually lies concealed, except when on the riffles, while the grayling lies at the bottom of exposed pools. When the fly is cast on the surface the trout dashes at it from his lair with a vim; or if below it, he often rises clear of the water in his eagerness to seize it. Should the fly be missed, another attempt will not be made again for some little time, if at all. The grayling rises to the fly from the bottom of the pool to the surface with incredible swiftness, but makes no commotion in doing so. Should it fail to seize the fly it returns toward the bottom, but soon essays another attempt, and will continue its efforts until finally the fly is taken into its mouth. From this it is evident that the grayling is not as shy as the trout. It is also apparent that the fly should be kept on the surface for trout, but allowed to sink a few inches at each cast for grayling.
While the casts need not be as long as for trout, unless in very shallow water, they should be perfectly straight, and the line be kept taut, so that the fish may hook itself upon taking the fly into its mouth. When hooked, it should be led away to one side of the pool in order that the rest of the school may not be alarmed. The fish should be held with a light hand, so as not to tear out the small hook, but at the same time kept on the bend of the rod until exhausted, before putting the landing-net under it. The landing-net should always be used, as the hold of the small hook may be a slight one.
Unlike the trout, the grayling often breaks water repeatedly when hooked, making short but mad leaps for freedom that require considerable skill to circumvent. During the struggle the tall bannerlike dorsal fin waves like a danger-signal, and with the forked tail-fin offers considerable resistance in the swift water. But when safely in his creel, the fortunate angler can congratulate himself on having fairly subdued and captured this wily and coquettish beauty of the crystal waters.
The outfit for fly-fishing is about the same as for trout, say a rod of five or six ounces, light click reel, enameled silk line, with a four-foot leader for two flies, or one of six feet for three, though two flies are enough. The flies should be tied on quite small hooks, Nos. 10 or 12. While ordinary trout-flies answer pretty well, they are much better if made with narrower wings, or still better with split wings. Any of the conventional hackles are capital, especially if the hackle is tied so as to stand out at right angles to the shank of the hook. The most successful flies are those with bodies of peacock harl or of some shade of yellow, as coachman, grizzly king, Henshall, alder, governor, and black gnat, with bodies of harl; and professor, queen of the water, Lord Baltimore and oak fly, with yellowish bodies. Other useful flies are gray drake, gray coflin, and the various duns. Four of the most successful grayling flies in England are the witch, Bradshaw's fancy, green insect and red tag, samples of which were sent to me by one of the best grayling fishers of that country. They were tied on the smallest hooks made, Nos. 16 to 20. All have harl bodies, very plump, with tags of red worsted, and hackles of various shades of silver gray, except Walbran's red tag, which has brown hackle. Mr. Howarth, an old English fly-tier, of Florissant, Colorado, is an adept at tying grayling flies.
For bait-fishing the fly-rod and click reel mentioned will answer, as the bait used is very light. The line should be of braided silk, undressed, size H, with a leader of three or four feet. Snelled hooks, size Nos. 7 to 9, are about right. The best bait is the "rock worm," as it is called in Montana, which is the larva of a caddis fly encased in an artificial envelope of minute bits of stick, or grains of fine gravel. Other baits are earthworms, grubs, crickets, grasshoppers, natural flies, or small bits of fat meat.
In comparatively still water a quill float, or a very small one of cork, must be used to keep the bait about a foot from the bottom, with a light sinker to balance the float. In swift water the float will not be required, but the small sinker is needed to keep the bait near the bottom. My advice, however, would be to pay court to the "lady of the streams" with the artificial fly as the only fitting gage to cast before her ladyship.
The angler who visits Yellowstone National Park, after viewing the beauties and marvels of that wonderland, and enjoying the excellent trout fishing, may go by a regular stage line to Riverside at its western boundary, and thence a few miles to the upper Madison basin. Here, within an area of a dozen miles, are several forks of the Madison River, and Beaver Creek in the upper cañon, where he may enjoy the finest grayling fishing in the world. Under the shadows of snow-clad peaks, and amidst the most charming and varied scenery, he may cast his feathery lures upon virgin streams of crystalline pureness, while breathing in the ozone of the mountain breeze and the fragrance of pine and fir.
There is a tradition in England that the grayling was introduced into that country from the continent of Europe by the monks and friars of olden time. This is not improbable, as the grayling was always a favorite fish with the various monastic orders throughout Europe, and there still remain in England the ruins of ancient monasteries on most of the grayling streams. As the original habitats of all the graylings are the coldest and clearest waters, the streams of England, while clear enough at times, are not of very low temperature; this would seem to give some credence or warrant for the legend mentioned.
One can readily imagine the tonsured fathers of old—friars white, black and gray, and the hooded Capuchin and Benedictine—during the lenten season and before fast days, repairing to the limpid stream with rod and line in pursuit of the lovely grayling.
But the angler, of all others, can realize that it was not alone to gratify the palate that the holy brothers left the dim cloister for the sunlit stream, the rosary and missal for the rod and line, and forsook the consecrated pile for God's first temples—the sylvan groves. And there, rod in hand, seated on the verdure-clad bank, he sees the silent and ghostly figures eagerly watching the tell-tale float, fishing all day, perhaps, from the matin song of the lark to the vesper hymn of the nightingale, while they are quietly drinking in and enjoying the many bountiful gifts of Nature—the merry brook, the nodding flowers, the whispering leaves, the grateful breeze.
And how the hooking of a grayling must have stirred the stagnant blood and quickened the pulses of those austere souls! And how the languid muscles must have stiffened, and the deadened nerves thrilled, when the gamesome grayling leaped into the sunlight sparkling like a gem and glittering like a crystal!
Ah! what a happy contrast to the gloomy cell and breviary it must have been to those rigid and frigid celibates to view the ever-changing tints and the reflected glory of the "lady of the streams" after she had coquettishly responded to their lures!
But let us return from the musty ages of the past, and the hoary fathers—those wise conservators of their beloved fish—to the present day, with the sad vanishing of the Michigan grayling as a solemn warning. Let us, then, guard and preserve this beautiful creature that has come down to us through the centuries, hallowed by the jealous care of the good fathers of yore, so that the toiler in these stirring times may, if he will, forsake the busy marts, the office or workshop, for a period, be it ever so brief, and journey even a thousand miles to enjoy—as the monks of old—the catching of a grayling.
THE TROUT: THE ANGLER'S PRIDE
THE brook trout, or char, with the beautiful and suggestive name of Salvelinus fontinalis, by which it is known to the naturalist, is fast disappearing from its native streams. The altered conditions of its aboriginal environment, owing to changes brought about by the progress of civilization, have resulted in its total extinction in some waters and a sad diminution in others. In many instances the trout brooks of our childhood will know them no more. The lumberman has gotten in his work—the forests have disappeared—the tiny brooks have vanished.
The lower waters still remain, but are robbed of their pristine pureness by the contamination due to various manufacturing industries. In such streams the supply of trout is only maintained through the efforts of the federal and state fish commissions. It is to be hoped that by this means the beautiful brook trout, the loveliest and liveliest fish of all the finny world, may be preserved and spared to us for yet a little while. Its introduction to the pure mountain streams of the Far West has given it a new lease of life, and the time may come when, outside of the game and fish preserves of wealthy clubs, it will be only in its new home that it can be found.
On long winter evenings the angler, sitting before his cheerful fire, may be meditating on the passing of the brook trout—that his angling record for the last season was not so good as the year before, and that next summer it may be still worse. But such disheartening thoughts are quickly dispelled as his glance falls on the fly-book and tackle box within his reach. His fly-book is eagerly overhauled and frayed snells and leaders and rusty hooks discarded. Some well-worn flies that recall the big trout that gave him sport galore in the long summer days are, on second thought, snugly and affectionately tucked away in a separate pocket of the book, to be brought forth on occasion, to excite the envy of some brother angler, while relating with minute detail the story of the part they took in the capture of the "big ones."
Through the rings of smoke rising from his brier-root he sees the stream rippling and sparkling as it courses around the bend. And in fancy he is wading and casting, and as eagerly expectant of a rise, with his feet encased in slippers, as when plodding along in clumsy wading boots. The pipe-dreams of retrospection are as engrossing and enjoyable as those of anticipation to the appreciative angler. The pleasures though passed are not forgotten.
He even smiles as he remembers the slippery and treacherous rock that caused his downfall, and the involuntary bath that followed, just as he hooked the biggest fish in the pool. He is even conscious of the chill that coursed up his spine as the stream laughed and gurgled in his submerged ear—but he remembers, best of all, that he saved the fish, and that he laughs best who laughs last. There is a saving clause of compensation in every untoward event to the philosophic mind.
In "the good old summer time" thousands of weary toilers from every station in life are leaving the home, the school, the workshop, the office, for a few weeks of rest, recreation and recuperation. And nowhere else can the overstrung nerves and tired muscles find surer relief and tone than beside the shimmering lake or brawling stream. The voices of many waters are calling them, the whispering leaves are coaxing them, the feathered songsters are entreating them—to leave the busy haunts of men and repair to the cool shadows and invigorating breezes of sylvan groves and shining waters.
Here, indeed, may be found a solace for every care, a panacea for every ill, furnished without cost and without stint, from Mother Nature's pharmacopœia of simples: fresh air, pure water and outdoor exercise. But while all of this is patent to the seasoned angler, the preachment of the resources of Nature for the relief of the "demnition grind" of those who dwell in cities cannot be too often reiterated.
Trout fishing is lawful in several states during a part or throughout the entire month of April; but unless the season is exceptionally forward and pleasant the wise angler will lose nothing by ignoring the privilege.
May and June are, by all odds, the best months for brook trout fishing. By May Day most of the streams of the Eastern States have cleared sufficiently for fly-fishing, and their temperature has sensibly diminished.
"About this time," as the almanacs say, the most interesting literature for the impatient angler is the catalogue of fishing tackle. After a final overhauling and inspection of his tools and tackle he is impelled, irresistibly, to pay a visit to the tackle store for such additions to his stock, be it large or small, as he thinks he needs, and is not happy until his wants, real or fancied, are supplied.
A woman at a bargain counter is a sedate, complacent and uninterested personage compared with an angler in a tackle store at the opening of the fishing season. He is covetous to a degree, and would walk off with the entire stock should he follow the dictates of his inclination as to his fancied requirements. As it is, he buys many things he will never have any use for; but he thinks he will, all the same, and leaves the attractive place an impoverished but happier man.
Of course it is best, when one can afford it, to provide duplicate rods and reels and a liberal supply of minor articles. But the careful angler, with but one ewe lamb in the shape of a tried and trusty rod, and a single, reliable click reel, with a limited but well-selected supply of leaders and flies, will take as many fish as his prodigal brother with a superabundant equipment.
The length and weight of the rod depends on the character of the waters to be fished: whether open water or a small brushy stream. Good rods can be obtained running from nine to eleven feet and from four to seven ounces. For narrow, shallow streams overhung with trees and shrubbery, and where the fish are small, the lightest and shortest rod is sufficient and most convenient. For larger streams or open water the rod should not exceed ten feet, and six ounces. Where trout are exceptionally large, as in the Lake Superior region or in Maine, the maximum of eleven feet, and seven ounces will be about right for most anglers.
Fly-rods built for tournament work, especially for long-distance casting, are marvels in their way, but it does not follow that they are adapted, or the best, for work on the stream. The essential and most important office of a rod is that which is exhibited after a fish is hooked—in other words, in the playing and landing of the fish. In practical angling the act of casting, either with fly or bait, is merely preliminary and subordinate to the real uses of a rod. The poorest fly-rod made will cast a fly thirty or forty feet, which is about as far as called for in ordinary angling. But it is the continuous spring and yielding resistance of the bent rod, constantly maintained, that not only tires out the fish, but protects the weak snell or leader from breakage, and prevents a weak hold of the hook from giving way; and this is the proper function of a rod.
The reel should be a single-action click reel, the lighter the better, if well made. The best, and in fact the only, line for fly-fishing, is one of enameled silk, its caliber corresponding with the weight of the rod. Only the best quality of silkworm fiber should be purchased in leaders for sizable fish. A leader of six feet is long enough for three flies, and one of four feet with two flies is still better.
The subject of artificial flies is a most complex one. All fly-fishers have their favorites, with or without reason, and swear by them on all occasions. Some confine themselves to the various hackles, others to half-a-dozen winged flies, while still others are only satisfied with a fly-book filled to bursting with scores of all sizes and colors. In this connection it is as well to say that about the beginning of the century there was a discussion in the London Fishing Gazette as to what artificial fly, in case an angler was restricted to a single one, would be preferred for use during an entire season. The consensus of opinion was in favor of the "March brown," with the "olive dun" as a good second. These are both killing flies in America as well as in England for trout fishing.
In addition to them the coachman, professor, Montreal, dotterel or yellow dun, with the black, brown, red and gray hackles should be sufficient on almost any stream, if tied in several sizes, say on hooks Nos. 6 to 12, with a preference for the intermediate numbers. From my experience I would be satisfied with such an assortment. Other anglers, of course, would think otherwise, and would prefer quite a different selection—but this is in accordance with one of the accepted and acknowledged privileges of the gentle art. And this, at the same time, is as it should be. One who has had more success with certain flies than with others, all things being equal, should pin his faith to them. And this, moreover, explains why there is such an extensive list to choose from in the fly-tier's catalogue, which contains the preferences of many generations of fly-fishers.
The question as to the best fly to use at certain seasons, or at any season, is a vexed one. Whether it is the colored dressing of the fly, or its form, that is most enticing to the fish, will perhaps never be known, except approximately. Of the long list of named artificial flies the choice of most anglers has been narrowed to a score or two, and for the only reason that they have been more or less successful with them. We are apt to look at the matter from our own viewpoint, and often without reference to that of the fish.
Reasoning from the appearance of artificial flies in general, it would seem that on a fretted surface almost any one of the many hundreds should get a rise from a fish, if in a biting mood, and, indeed, this is in a measure true. But one swallow does not make a summer. There are times and places when any old thing, even a bit of colored rag, will coax a rise. I have had good success with a bit of the skin of a chicken neck with a feather or two attached. Then there are times when nothing but natural bait proves alluring.