A black fly with silver twist may occasionally be substituted for No. 13. They are sold at all tackle makers.
The white moth is sold at all tackle makers, and is a good fly on moon-light nights in June and July.
Although Eighteen sorts are enumerated, it is by no means necessary that the occasional fisherman should be provided with the full complement.
It will generally be found that Nos. 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 9, 10, 13, 17, are certain killers. The others, however, must be procured by the more indefatigable sportsman; especially if he is undaunted by wind or weather.
Every thing being now in readiness for a start, be careful to commence fishing with the sun in your face, and if possible, keep it so during the day. By adopting this precaution, the shadow of yourself and rod will not be cast upon the water, and your presence consequently is less likely to be observed by the fish than if a contrary position were adopted. Let me urge the great importance of keeping out of sight of your prey as much as possible. If the banks are high and open, crouch down, and if needs be, creep on, as you would if a duck and mallard were the object of your pursuit, until you find you can command the pool in your prostrate position. If bushes intervene, of course you may approach with boldness: less caution is also needed when the banks are nearly even with the surface of the water.
As a general rule, I am in favour of fishing up the stream for trout; the heads of the fish being always against the current, their eyes are pointed in the same direction, looking for flies, &c., which may be floating down on the surface; your approach therefore is not so readily perceived, and your fly when taken is pulled against the jaw, and not from it as is often the case when fishing down the stream. The casting the fly well and lightly is a knack which can only be acquired by experience. The spring of the rod should do the chief work, and not the labour of your arms. To effect this, you should lay the stress as near the hand as possible, and make the wood undulate from that point, which is done by keeping the elbow in advance, and doing something with the wrist which is not very easy to explain. Thus, the exertion should be chiefly from the elbow and wrist, and not from the shoulders.
A little practice will enable you to determine the length of line required to reach a given spot: until this knowledge is acquired, rather throw too short than too long a line. In the latter case, it will bag in the water and scare the fish, or if per chance one rises, it will most probably escape, before you have power to strike.
The stream fly should fall lightly on the desired spot, and the line, being just of sufficient length to allow of the exact point being reached, the bob fly will rest on the surface of the water, and by imparting to the rod a slight tremulous motion, from right to left, the stream fly will appear to be struggling in the stream, whilst the bob will occasionally bob up and down, (from which circumstance its name is derived) exhibiting the movement of the natural fly, when it alights, rises, and again alights.
After some experience, the eye will apprize you when the fish rises to seize the hook; you are doubly prepared to strike, if your line is on the stretch, in which case, you feel, as well as see your prey.
Striking, signifies a sudden jerk of the rod, at the instant the fish has taken the hook, and forms a very important feature in the art of fishing. If the jerk is too violent, the hook will probably be torn from its hold, or if it be too slight, the hook will not enter the jaw, and the fish escapes. The happy medium must be aimed at, remembering that our small fish require gentler treatment, than those of greater weight, whose capacious mouths afford a firmer hold, and may be treated with less ceremony.
Commence by throwing the fly across the tail of the stickle, thus:—A. is the fisherman, B. B. the banks of the river, C. the tail of the stickle, D. its commencement. A. first throws his fly across to E. then draws it with a kind of tremulous motion to F. then to G. and back to H. A. then moves on, and takes up his position at J. casts over to K. and across to L. tries again at M. and hooks a fish. If it is small, as too many of our West Country fish happen to be, it may be raised instanter, gently out of the water, and deposited in the basket. A. then advances a few paces, and finishes the pool between M. and D.
If by good luck a large fish is hooked, don’t attempt to jerk him out of the water, which frequently snaps the gut or tears the hook from its hold; but to use a technical term, “play him,” that is, let him swim about with your fly well embodied in his jaw, until he is sufficiently exhausted to enable you to take him out, either by lifting him over the bank, by taking the casting line in your hand, or by drawing him upon the sand or gravel. Whilst the fish is engaged in endeavouring to rid itself of the disagreeable customer in its mouth, be careful to maintain a steady, uniform strain, upon the line; don’t jerk at one time and slack at another. If the fish is unusually large, the butt of your rod must be held forward, which throws the point back; and thus the line presses against the entire length of the rod, and offers greater opposition to the fish than if the top were kept down and the butt up. The following hints, from the pen of an experienced fisherman, are deserving special notice.
“If your fish misses the fly in making his offer, wait awhile before you throw a second time, and if he rises at all, he will come more greedily for this delay. When he returns to his seat, after the unsuccessful sortie, he will say mentally, ‘What a donkey I was to be so awkward! By St. Antonio, if he comes again, I’ll smash him!’ But if you keep lashing away at him immediately, he will probably treat you with contempt, and will have no intercourse with your gay deluders for the rest of the day. It is some time, perhaps, since he has taken up his seat in the water, without ever having seen an animal like that which you are so obliging as to tender him; all of a sudden come a swarm of locusts, as it were, one after another over his nob, which astonish and alarm him exceedingly. Thus, it is apparent that you do not do justice to his sagacity, or instinct, or whatever you please to call it, if you set to work in such an intrusive manner.”
The preceding hints on trout fishing may with some exceptions, be adopted by the salmon and salmon peal fisher; before I proceed however to offer a few observations on the mode of fishing for these fish, a brief notice of the natural history of the trout may not be unacceptable.
The common trout is an inhabitant of most of the rivers and lakes of Great Britain. It is a voracious feeder and is vigilant, cautious, and active. During the day, the larger sized fish move little from their accustomed haunts, but towards evening and during the night, they rove in search of small fish, insects, and their various larvæ, upon which they feed with eagerness.
The young trout fry may be seen throughout the day, sporting in the shallow gravelly scours of the stream, where the want of sufficient depth of water, or the greater caution of larger and older fish prevent their appearance. Though vigilant and cautious in the extreme, the trout is also bold, and active. A pike and a trout put into a confined place together, had several battles for a particular spot, but the trout was eventually the master. This fish varies considerably in appearance in different localities; so much so, as to induce a belief that several species exist. Lord Home, however, who has paid much attention to the subject, remarks, “I am much inclined to think there is but one kind of river trout; the large lake trout may be different.”
Sir Wm. Jardine, in a paper on Salmonidæ, has described at considerable length, the variations observable in the trout of some of the lakes of Sutherlandshire. The fish in these lakes are reddish, dark, or silvery, according to the clearness of the water.
Mr. Neil, in his tour, notices the black moss trout of Loch Knitching, and Loch Katrine, is said to abound also with small black trout; an effect considered to be produced in some waters by receiving the drainage of boggy moors. In streams that flow rapidly over gravelly or rocky bottoms, the trout are remarkable for the brilliancy and beauty of their spots and colours. Thus, in our immediate neighbourhood, we find that the trout caught between Shaugh Bridge and Plym Steps, on the river Cad, are generally very dark, approaching in some instances almost to a black; whilst on the Tavy, below Denham Bridge, they will be found of a light silvery hue; so also on the Yealm—those taken below Lee Mill Bridge, are of a bright sparkling appearance, whilst others caught in Horns and Dendles, or on the moor above, are generally very dark, and in some of the pools which seldom enjoy the rays of the sun, are almost black.
The author of the “Wild Sports of the West of Ireland” remarks, “I never observed the effect of bottom soil upon the quality of fish so strongly marked as in the trout taken in a small lake, in the county of Monaghan. The water is a long irregular sheet, of no great depth: one shore bounded by a bog, the other, by a dry and gravelly surface. On the bog side, the trout are of the dark and shapeless species peculiar to moory loughs, while the other affords the beautiful and sprightly variety, generally inhabiting rapid and sandy streams. Narrow as the lake is, the fish appear to confine themselves to their respective limits: the red trout being never found upon the bog moiety of the lake, nor the black where the under surface is hard gravel.”
Sir H. Davie gives the following account of their spawning; and his remarks on some of the flies upon which they feed will be found interesting.
“Trout spawn or deposit their ova and seminal fluid in the end of Autumn or beginning of Winter, from the middle of November till the beginning of January: this materially depending upon the temperature of the season, their quantity of food, &c. For some time (a month or six weeks) before they are prepared for the sexual functions, or that of reproduction, they become less fat, particularly the females, the large quantity of eggs and their size, probably affecting the health of the animal, and compressing generally the vital organs in the abdomen. They are at least six weeks or two months after they have spawned before they recover their flesh, and the time when these fish are at the worst, is likewise the worst time for fly fishing, both on account of the cold weather and because there are fewer flies on the water than at any other season. Even in December and January there are a few small gnats, or water flies on the water in the middle of the day, in bright days or when there is sunshine. These are generally black, and they escape the influence of the frost, by the effects of light on their black bodies—and probably, by the extreme rapidity of the motions of their fluids, and generally of their organs. They are found only on the surface of the water, where the temperature must be above the freezing point.
“In February a few double winged water flies, which swim down the stream, are usually found in the middle of the day—such as the willow fly, and the cow-dung fly is sometimes carried on the water by winds. In March there are several flies found on most rivers, and in April, the blue and browns come on—the first in dark days—the second in bright. These lay their eggs in the water, which produce larvæ that remain in the state of worms, feeding and breathing in the water, till they are prepared for their metamorphosis, and quit the bottoms of the rivers, and the mud, and stone, for the surface, and the light and air.
“The brown fly usually disappears before the end of April—but of the blue dun there is a succession of different tints, or species, or varieties, which appear all the summer and autumn long. The excess of heat seems equally unfavorable, as the excess of cold, to the existence of the smaller species of water insect, which during the intensity of sunshine seldom appear in summer, but rise morning and evening. Towards the end of August the ephemera appear again in the middle of the day. To attempt to describe all the variety that sport on the surface of the water at different times of the day, throughout the year, would be quite an endless labour. Some of them appear to live only a few hours, none have their existence protracted to more than a few days. Of the beetle, there are many varieties fed on by fishes.—These insects are bred from eggs, which they deposit in the ground, or in the excrement of animals. The cock-chafer, the fern fly, and gray beetle, are common in our meadows in the summer, but there is hardly any insect that flies, including the wasp, the hornet, the bee, and the butter-fly, that does not become at sometime, the prey of fishes.”
Mr. Stoddart mentions an interesting experiment made with trout some years ago, in the South of England, in order to ascertain the value of different food. “Fish were placed in three separate tanks, one of which was supplied daily with worms, another with live minnows, and the third with those small dark coloured water flies, which are to be found moving about on the surface, under banks, and sheltered places. The trout fed with worms grew slowly, and had a lean appearance; those nourished on minnows, which it was observed they darted at with great avidity, became much larger; while, such as were fattened, upon flies only, attained in a small time, prodigious dimensions, weighing twice as much as both the others together, although the quantity of food swallowed by them was in nowise so great.”
In the new Sporting Magazine for Nov., 1840, a writer on fishes says, “An acutely-observing friend of mine, who has paid great attention to the growth of trout, states that they are rarely visible the first year, that they congregate with minnows and other small fry; the second, are found on shallows; the third summer, about seven or eight inches long; and subsequently increase rapidly to a pound or a pound and a half, dependent on the quantity and quality of their food, the season, and other circumstances.”
This gentleman has for years kept trout in a kind of store stream, and having fed them with every kind of food, has had some of them increase from one pound to ten pound in four years.
Steven Oliver, in his agreeable scenes and recollections of fly fishing, mentions a trout taken in the neighbourhood of Great Driffield, in September, 1832, which measured thirty-one inches in length, twenty-one in girth, and weighed seventeen pounds.
A few years since, a notice was sent to the Linnæan Society, of a trout that was caught on the 11th January, 1822, in a little stream, ten feet wide, branching from the Avon, at the back of Castle-street, Salisbury. On being taken out of the water, its weight was found to be twenty-five pounds. Mrs. Powell, at the bottom of whose garden the fish was first discovered, placed it in a pond, where it lived some time.
The age to which trout may arrive, has not been ascertained. Mr. Oliver mentions that in August, 1809, a trout died which had been for twenty-eight years an inhabitant of the well, in Dumbarton Castle.
A trout died in 1826, which had lived 53 years in a small well in the orchard of Mr. William Mossop, of Board Hall, near Broughton, in Furness.
The trout in our streams rarely exceed a pound in weight: this may, in some degree, be accounted for from the circumstance, that the Devon and Cornish rivers are very rapid, consequently, the insects which fall from the bushes, are carried so swiftly down the stream, that whilst a fish is engaged in seizing on one, the others pass rapidly by: the same remarks may, in times of flood, apply to worms, &c. In more tranquil rivers a fly seldom escapes; it lights, or is blown on the water, is immediately espied, and the fish, whilst occupied in seizing one, has half-a-dozen in his eye, each awaiting his leisure in calm repose. That our trout will increase rapidly, under favorable circumstances, I can testify from my own experience. I knew several that were placed in a pond, in August, which averaged from eight to ten ounces; in the July following, I caught the same fish with a fly, which averaged from one pound to one pound and a half.
Before taking leave of trout, I must notice a fly which may be used with success after sunset, in the months of July and August. It is called the white moth, and has often given me sport as late as ten and eleven on fine moon-light nights. Choose an open place on a tranquil portion of the river; the fly may be thrown with less nicety than in the day-time, and catching a fish does not alarm the neighbouring fry, who will frequently seize the moth immediately after the water has been disturbed by the efforts of the captured fish to rid itself from the hook.
Fly-fishing for salmon is seldom pursued in these counties. The fish meets with such a host of formidable enemies as soon as it quits the sea, that comparatively few ascend our rivers. The intent of the proprietors of our fisheries appears to be the annihilation of this prince of fishes. The most impracticable weirs are constructed, over which it is almost impossible for a fish to leap; in the pools immediately below, the rapacious fisherman casts his net every tide; whilst above, if perchance a fish does succeed in evading the cunning of his netting foes, a host of spearmen are on watch by night, as well as by day, to immolate the persecuted wanderer.
Laws exist, restricting the capture of salmon, within certain months; but that which in this case is truly everybody’s business, is considered nobody’s; consequently, in season and out of season are they caught, sold, and devoured, as openly as if no penalties were incurred by the act. That food, which under proper regulation would soon become abundant and reasonable, can only now be placed on the tables of the affluent.
The preservation of salmon I hold to be a question of national importance; so much so, that I consider conservators should be appointed to protect them, as well from the unlawful proceedings of the owners of fisheries, as from the unscrupulous acts of the poacher. Weirs should be so constructed as to admit of their ascending whenever the waters are swollen by floods; hutches should be kept open at least forty-eight hours during the week.
Besides the perils which await the parents on their journey from the sea, their young are also in imminent danger on their route towards the sea. The millers take them in traps, by thousands, and dispose of them by the gallon to the neighbours; indeed, at times they are taken in such vast quantities that pigs are regaled upon their delicate flesh.
Man is not content with employing his own ingenuity in capturing this delicious fish, he calls to his aid the sagacity of the dog, which we find becomes, by practice, as expert a fisherman as his master: numerous instances of this are on record. The following are well-established facts:—In the work by the Reverend William Hamilton, an interesting account is related of the assistance afforded by a water-dog to some salmon fishermen, when working nets in shallow pools. The dog takes his post in a ford where the water is not very deep, and at a distance below the net; if a salmon escapes the net, the fish makes a shoot down the river, in the direction towards the sea; the dog watches, and marks his approach by the ripple on the water, and endeavours to turn the fish back towards the net, or catch him; if he fails in both attempts, the dog then quits the water, in which the pace of the fish is too fast for him, and runs with all his speed down the bank to intercept the fish at the next shallow ford, where another opportunity, and a second diverting attempt, occurs.
Dogs are occasionally used in Glamorganshire, when trying for salmon. They appear to take great pleasure in the pursuit, exhibiting by turns the most patient watchfulness, persevering exertion, or extraordinary sagacity, as either quality may best effect the wishes of the master.
In some parts of Wales, where the rivers are narrow, the salmon are caught in a net drawn by men on each bank; dogs are trained to swim over from side to side, with the head and ground lines of the net, as required.
A clever poacher at Totnes, allows that he has killed many salmon in the night, on the Dart, by setting a trammel net at the lower end of the deep pools, by sending in a dog at the upper end of the pool, which dog he had trained to dive like an otter. The fish, as soon as the dog dived, immediately dashed down the stream, and were taken in the net at the lower end of the pool.
The Earl of Home, in a letter to the Earl of Montague, dated 10th January, 1837, relates the following history of a Newfoundland dog, which belonged to his uncle. He knew the Monday mornings as well as the fishermen themselves, and used to go to the mill dam at Fireburn Mill, on these mornings. He there took his station, at the opening in the dam, to allow the salmon to pass, and has been known to kill from 12 to 20 salmon in a morning: the fish he took to the side. The then Lord Tankerville instituted a process against the dog. This case was brought before the Court of Session, and the process was entitled, “The Earl of Tankerville versus a dog, the property of the Earl of Home.” Judgment was given in favor of the dog.
Hoping the time may arrive, when the salmon in our rivers will afford similar opportunities for the display of canine sagacity, I shall, in anticipation of such good days, proceed to offer a few brief hints, which our grand-children may find useful, when tempted by a strong breeze and a dark gloomy sky, to cast the fly over a salmon run.
Follow the advice given with reference to the purchase of trout tackle; go to the best, which you will find the cheapest market.
Let the manufacturer know the average width of the river, and he will provide the rod, &c., accordingly.
In the selection of your flies, be guided by the suggestions of a local fisherman—obtain patterns, and get them fac-similied by a well-reputed maker, whose hooks are known to stand a long-contested struggle.
Commence fishing at the head of the pool Z., instead of at the tail, as in trout fishing.
Throw the fly directly across the river, from where the fisherman stands at A., to B. Let it sink a little below the surface; then guide it from B. to G., forming the segment of a circle; give it, during this passage, a jerking or sliding motion, such as water-spiders exhibit when sporting on still pools by the side of rivers; at each jerk draw the fly gently towards you, two feet or two and a half for salmon, seven or ten inches for peal. For instance, your fly having lighted at B., draw it to C., then pause a moment, when the stream will carry it down to D. again; draw it to E., and let it fall back to F.; pursue the same process until the curve from B. to G. is completed. By giving this motion to the fly, it appears to be struggling against the stream. In drawing it towards you the wings collapse, when you pause they expand.
Having cast five or six times from B. to G., move on a few paces, and throw over to H., forming a curve to I., and so on until the pool is carefully tried.
If a fish has been moved, note the place, and try him again in a few minutes. Be careful, not to throw immediately over the spot where he rose; but let the fly approach him in one of the glides made in the curve. Should the fish then take the fly, don’t strike directly, but allow a second or two to intervene, when you will find the fish well hooked. Don’t be frightened—keep perfectly cool—hold your rod well back, the butt end rather from you; indulge the fish with as much line as he requires, taking care however to bear well and steadily against him, so that he encounters much resistance in drawing the line over the rod and off the reel. When the fish slackens his pace, reel up as much of your line as you can do with safety; this economy may be most useful when he again rushes off. The length of time occupied in playing the salmon depends somewhat upon the nature of the adjacent banks, and also upon the size and disposition of the fish, some being more lively than others; and a small fish will frequently afford better sport than one of twice or thrice its weight.
A gaff, or landing net, is necessary, as no gut will stand the strain of lifting a large fish out of the water. The foregoing remarks will be found applicable to peal fishing, which may be obtained in some of our rivers, and is justly considered very excellent sport.
To enter more into the detail of this amusement is not my present intention, I must be content with this rough sketch, leaving others to complete the picture. It is proper however to remark, that the flies used in peal fishing are about twice the size of those used for trout: they should be purchased under the advice of an experienced fisherman, as they differ materially from these which are applicable to the Irish and other rivers.
The ingenuity of the sportsman has been taxed to vary the means of capturing the salmon. Sometimes they are shot whilst leaping the weirs, at others they are speared by torch lights from the banks of rivers, or from boats. The otter has been trained to catch and bring the fish to his master; and, in “Red Gauntlet,” we find a lively sketch of a salmon chase, which is thus described by Darsie Latimer, in one of his letters to Allan Fairford.
“The scene was animated by the exertions of a number of horsemen, who were employed in hunting salmon. Aye, Alan, lift up your hands and eyes as you will, I can give their mode of fishing no name so appropriate, for they chased the fish at full gallop, and struck them with their barbed spears, as you see hunters spearing boars in the old tapestry. The salmon, to be sure, take the thing more quietly than the boars; but they are so swift in their own element, that to pursue and strike them is the task of a good horseman with a quick eye, a determined hand, and a full command both of his horse and weapon. The shouts of the fellows, as they galloped up and down in the animating exercise—their loud bursts of laughter, when any of their number caught a fall—and still louder acclamations, when any of the party made a capital stroke with his lance—gave so much animation to the whole scene, that I caught the enthusiasm of the sport, and ventured forward a considerable space on the sands.”
In the Arms of the city of Glasgow, and in those of the see, a salmon, with a ring in its mouth, is said to record a miracle of St. Kentigern, the founder of the see, and the first Bishop of Glasgow.
“They report,” says Spotswood, “that a lady of good place, in the country, having lost her ring in crossing the Clyde, and her husband waxing jealous, as if she had bestowed the same on one of her lovers, she did mean herself unto Kentigern; entreating his help for the safety of her honour; and that he, going to the river after he had used his devotions, willed one, who was making to fish, to bring him the first fish that was caught, which was done. In the mouth of this fish, he found the ring, and sending it to the lady, she was thereby freed of her husband’s suspicion.”
The classical tale of Polycrates related by Herodotus, a thousand years before the tale of St. Kentigern, is perhaps the earliest version of the fish and the ring. “This ring,” says Herodotus, “was an emerald set in gold, and beautifully engraved;” and this very ring Pliny relates, was preserved in the Temple of Concord, in Rome, to which it was given by the Emperor Augustus.
It is somewhat singular, that the Natural History of a fish, which constitutes so important an article of commerce—that adds so much to the wealth of a country where it abounds—that forms so nutricious and delicate a food—that affords an amusement which rivals that truly British sport of fox-hunting, should have remained for centuries in considerable obscurity.
Of late, Jardine, Shaw, Scrope, and others, have investigated the subject with much success; still, many points require further elucidation, especially with reference to the causes which induce this fish to quit its more congenial quarters, and resort to the fresh water, which is evidently distasteful to them, as they decrease in weight and become much weakened after they have frequented the rivers a few months.
Some of the recent experiments, touching the young of the salmon, are very curious, and exhibit much patient and minute enquiry.
Mr. Scrope, in his very interesting work entitled “Days and Nights of Salmon Fishing,” observes, “This splendid fish leaves the sea and comes up the Tweed at every period of the year, in greater or lesser quantities, becoming more abundant in the river as the summer advances. It travels rapidly, so that those salmon which leave the sea, and go up the Tweed on the Saturday night, at twelve o’clock, (after which time no nets are worked till the sabbath is passed) are found and taken on the following Monday, near St. Boswell’s, a distance, as the river winds, of about forty miles. When the strength of the current is considered, and also the sinuous course a fish must take, in order to avoid the strong rapids, this power of swimming is most extraordinary.”
As salmon are supposed to enter a river merely for the purpose of spawning, and as that process does not take place till September, one cannot well account for their appearing in some rivers so early as February, and March, seeing that they lose in weight and condition during their continuance in fresh water. Some suppose it is to get rid of the sea louse, but this supposition must be set aside, when it is known that this insect adheres only to a portion of the newly run fish, which are in the best condition. I think it more probable they are driven from the coasts near the river by the numerous enemies they encounter there—such as porpoises, and seals, which devour them in great quantities; however this may be, they remain in the fresh water till the spawning months begin. In the cold months, they lie in deep and easy water, and as the season advances, they draw into the principal rough streams, always lying in places, where they can be least easily discovered. They prefer lying upon even rock, or behind large blocks of stone, particularly such as are of a colour similar to themselves. At every rise of the river from floods, the fish move upwards, nearer the spawning places, so that no one can reckon on preserving his particular part of the river, which is the chief reason of the universal destruction of those valuable animals. Previous to a flood, the fish frequently leap out of the water, either for the purpose of filling their air bladder, to make them more buoyant for travelling; or from excitement; or perhaps to exercise their powers of ascending heights and cataracts in the course of their journey upwards. Mr. Yarrell places their power of leaping at ten or twelve feet perpendicularly, but I do not think I ever saw one spring out of the water above five or six feet. Large fish can spring much higher than small ones; but their powers are limited or augmented, according to the depth of water they spring from. They rise rapidly from the bottom of the water to the surface, by means of rowing and sculling, as it were, with their fins and tails; and this powerful impetus bears them upwards in the air, on the same principle that a few tugs of the oar make a boat shoot onwards, after one has ceased to row.
The fish pass every practicable obstruction till they arrive at the spawning ground; some early, some late in the season. The principal spawning months are December, January, and February; but in some rivers the season is much earlier.
Salmon are led by instinct to select such places for depositing their spawn, as are least likely to be effected by the floods. These are the broad parts of the river, where the water runs swift and shallow, and has a free passage over an even bed. Here they either select an old spawning place, or form a fresh one, which is made by the female. Some fancy, that the elongation of the lower jaw in the male, which is somewhat in the form of a crook, is designed by nature to enable him to excavate the spawning trough; certainly it is difficult to divine what may be the use of this very ugly excrescence, but observation has proved that this idea is a fallacy, and that the male never assists in making the spawning place. When the female first commences making her spawning bed, she generally comes after sun set, and goes off in the morning: she works up the gravel with her snout, her head pointing against the stream, and she arranges the position of the loose gravel with her tail. When this is done, the male makes his appearance in the evenings, according to the usage of the female; he then remains close by her, on the side on which the water is deepest. When the female is in the act of emitting her ova, she turns upon her side, with her face to the male, who never moves. The female runs her snout into the gravel and forces herself under it as much as she possibly can, when an attentive observer may see the red spawn coming from her. The male, in his turn, lets his milt go over the spawn, and this process goes on for some days, more or less, according to the size of the fish, and consequent quantity of the eggs.
If a strange male interferes, the original one chases him with great fury, and in their combats, frequently inflict great injury upon each other. When the female has spawned, she sets off and leaves the place; the male remains, waiting for another female, and if none comes in twenty-four hours, he goes away in search of another spawning place.
When the spawning is finished, the fish become very lank and weak, and fall into deep easy water. Here, after a time, their strength is recruited, when as the spring advances, the strongest fish leave the depths and draw into the streams. They now move down the river in their passage to the sea. When they arrive in the deep pools, near the mouths of the rivers, they take rest for a few days; here they may be caught by anglers, as they take the fly and other baits freely. March is usually the best month for this sport—if indeed, it can be called sport, to kill an animal that is worth a mere trifle and resists but little.
Having now dispatched the salmon to the sea, it remains to explain what becomes of the spawn, and how, and when, the young fry arrive at maturity; and as there have been various doubts and contradictions on this subject, I think it more prudent to lead the reader to a consideration of the following pages, than to make a positive assertion on my own unsupported authority.
Up to a late period, it was universally thought that the spawn deposited, as described above, was matured in a brief time, and that the young fry of the winter grew to six or seven inches long; were silver in colour; and went down to the sea in this state with the first floods, early in the May of the coming spring.
Mr. Shaw’s ingenious experiments, which have been continued with the greatest care and attention for a long period, disprove the correctness of this opinion. This gentleman constructed three ponds, the banks so raised, and otherwise formed in such a manner, that it was impossible for any fish to escape, or for any other fish to have access to them. On the 4th of January, 1837, some fresh spawn was deposited in one of these ponds, on the 28th of April, one hundred and fourteen days after impregnation, the young salmon were excluded from the egg. On the 24th of May, twenty-seven days after being hatched, the young fish had consumed the yolk which remains attached to the lower part of the body, and which serves them for nourishment; the characteristic bars of the parr had then become distinctly visible. From an unforeseen accident, his experiments upon this brood were abruptly terminated. With a second, however, he was more fortunate. On the 27th January, 1837, he deposited some spawn in one of his ponds; on the 21st March, the embryo fish were visible to the naked eye. From a minute inspection, he found that they had some appearance of animation, from a very minute streak of blood which appeared to traverse for a short distance the interior of the egg, originating near two small dark spots, not larger than the point of a pin. These two spots ultimately turned out to be the eyes of the embryo fish. On the 7th May, (one hundred and one days after impregnation) they had burst the envelope, and were found among the shingle in the stream; at this period the head is larger in proportion to the body, which is exceedingly small, and measures about five-eighths of an inch in length; of a pale blue or peach blossom colour. But the most singular part of the fish is the conical, bag like appearance, which adheres by its base to the abdomen. This bag is about two-eighths of an inch in length, of a beautiful transparent red, very much resembling a light red currant. The body also presents another singular appearance, namely, a fin or fringe, resembling that of the tail of the tadpole, which runs from the dorsal and anal fins to the termination of the tail, and is slightly indented. This little fish does not leave the gravel immediately after its exclusion from the egg, but remains for some time beneath it, with the bag attached, which contains its supply of nourishment.
On the 24th June, Mr. Shaw found the bag had disappeared, but the symmetry of the form was as yet but imperfect. At the end of two months, (7th July) the shape was much improved. At the age of four months (7th September) the characteristic marks of the parr or samlet were partly developed. Two months later (six months old 7th November) the average length was three inches. On the 10th May, 1838, the fish being then twelve months old, were improved in condition, and measured four inches: they had changed their winter coating for that which may be called their summer dress. On the approach of autumn, the whole of the salmonidæ, while resident in fresh water, acquire a dusky exterior, accompanied by a considerable increase of mucus or slime. As the summer advanced, they continued to increase in size; and on the 14th November, being then eighteen months old, they measured six inches in length, and had attained that stage, when all the external markings of the parr are strikingly developed. On the 20th May, 1839, the fish being then two years old, they measured six inches and a half long, and had assumed the migratory state.
This change commenced about the middle of the previous April; the caudal, pectoral, and dorsal fins assuming a dusky margin, while the whole of the fish exhibited symptoms of a silvery exterior, as well as an increased elegance of form.
The specimens in question, so recently a parr, exhibited a perfect example of the salmon fry, or smolt. Mr. Shaw having thus traced the spawn of the salmon up to this point, it will now be necessary to pursue our inquiries until we find the matured fish. The descent of these little fish takes place much about the same time in all rivers, commencing in March, and continuing through April, and part of May. They first keep in the slack water, by the side of the river; after a time, as they become stronger, they go more towards the mid-stream; and when the water is increased by rain, they move gradually down the river. On meeting the tide, they remain for two or three days, in that part where the water becomes a little brackish from the mixture of salt water, till they are inured to the change, when they go off to the sea all at once. There their growth is very rapid, and many return to the brackish water, increased in size, in proportion to the time they have been absent. Fry, which were marked in April and May, have been caught on their return at the end of June, weighing from two to three pounds in weight. These are sold in our markets as salmon peal, when of a larger size they are called gilse. A second visit to the sea gives these another increase, when they return to the rivers as salmon.
By the term “gilse,” is meant young salmon that have only been to the sea once. It seems worthy of remark, that salmon are sometimes smaller than gilse; but although such gilse have only been once at sea, yet the period they have remained there, must have exceeded the two short visits made by the small salmon, and hence their superiority of size.
It has been a constantly received opinion, that all the young fish, after their first visit to the sea, return to the rivers in which they had been bred; numbers of marked fish have certainly been retaken in their native rivers, but from the observations of Dr. Heysham, and Sir William Jardine, it is evident, that if the fish happen to have roved far from the estuary of their native rivers, they run at the proper season, up any stream, even the first they encounter, the temperature and condition of which are congenial to them.
The growth of salmon, from the state of salmon fry or smolt, to that of salmon peal and gilse, has been shown to be very rapid, and the increase of weight, during each subsequent year, is believed to be equal, if not to exceed the weight gained within the first. That this fish is a voracious feeder may be inferred from the degree of perfection in the arrangement of the teeth; yet few, of the many observers, who have examined the stomach, have been able to ascertain the exact nature of that food which must constitute its principal support.
Faber, in his “Natural History of the Fishes of Iceland,” remarks, “The common salmon feeds on small fishes and various small marine animals.” Dr. Fleming confirms this, when he states that their favorite food in the sea is the sand eel.
In a Prize Essay, published in the transactions of the Highland Society, Mr. Morrison says, “I have taken salmon within flood mark, some of which had two, and others three, full-sized herrings in their stomachs.”
Mr. George Dormer, of Stone Mills, in the parish of Bridport, put a female salmon which measured twenty inches in length, into a small well, which measured only five feet by two feet four inches, and there was only fifteen inches depth of water. In this confined place she remained twelve years, she would come to the top of the water and take meat off a plate, and would devour a quarter of a pound of lean meat in less time than a man could eat it. She would allow Mr. Dormer to take her out of the water, and when put into it again, would immediately take meat from his hands. Some time since, a little girl teased her by presenting the finger and then withdrawing it, till at last she leaped a considerable height above the water, and caught her by the said finger, which made it bleed profusely. At one time a duck approached the well, and put in its head to take a draught of the water, when Mrs. Fish, seeing a trespasser on her premises, seized the intruder by the bill, and a desperate struggle ensued, which at last ended in the release of Mr. Drake from the grasp of Mrs. Fish, and no sooner freed, than Mr. Drake flew off in the greatest consternation and affright; since which time to this day, he has not been seen to approach the well, and it is with great difficulty he can be brought within sight of it.
Salmon differ materially, both in flavor and weight, according to the localities in which they are taken: thus, the Irish salmon seldom exceed ten or twelve pounds. At two great fisheries which I have visited, namely, Ballina and Ballinahinch, nine pounds is their average weight; whereas in Scotland, they run considerably larger. The Dart salmon is very superior to that taken in the Tamar; and the Thames is esteemed the best flavored in England.
The epicure considers, that to eat this fish in perfection, it should be dressed immediately after it has quitted its native element; it then boils quite solid, and the flakes are covered with a white substance resembling curd.
At Galway, the salmon, when taken out of the traps, in which they are caught in ascending from the river to Loch Corrib, are placed in a reservoir, through which a small stream is constantly flowing; they remain here, until a customer seeks a particular sized fish; by experience, the keeper knows the weight of each to a quarter of a pound, the required salmon is immediately gaffed, and may be seen floating in parsley and butter, within five minutes after its decease.
The bridge which crosses the river in the centre of the town, is frequently lined with persons watching the salmon, which are to be seen three or four deep in the pools below, they look like waving weeds, and remain in the same position for hours. Boats are moored about one hundred feet above the bridge, from whence sportsmen catch an occasional fish with a shrimp, impaled on a good sized hook; the tackle being necessarily fine, in consequence of the clearness of the water, some skill is required to secure the prey; the spectators from above, enter with much glee into the sport; applauding the piscator, when by patience and adroitness, he is successful, and are equally bountiful in their raillery, when for lack of these necessary qualities the fish escapes. I remember watching with great interest, the manœuvres of one of these waiters upon providence. He had hooked an unusually large fish, and played him admirably for some time; it appeared quite exhausted, and allowed itself to be guided within a few feet of the boat, the well directed gaff was ready for its deadly purpose; in another second, the fish would quiver on the barb, when in a twinkling, the promised prize darted off with renewed energy, and rushing down the river, passed beneath the centre arch, and could be seen on the other side, struggling against the stream and the steady line of his opponent; the man holding in his right hand his trusty rod, slipped with his left, the rope which kept his boat in her position, which quickly followed in the fish’s wake, when as a last effort, the salmon doubled upon its pursuer, and darted through the second arch from that which the boat had just entered; the line came of course in contact with the pier, the fish gave one desperate plunge, the next moment the line floated lightly on the surface of the water. The man cast his rod in anger on the bottom of his boat, looked daggers at the laughing crowd above, and quitted the scene of his disappointment, to seek better fortune elsewhere.
The capture of a large fish, is a fatiguing operation, and requires the utmost skill and patience; one jerk—one diverted look—the least slackening of the line—and your labor is lost. The following are a few instances of well requited proficiency. Although I cannot hold out much promise of similar good fortune in the present day, as salmon are now rarely taken, even in nets of equal size, it may be satisfactory to the aspirant to know, that the largest fish do not necessarily afford the best sport; they are apt to turn sulky and will lay doggedly at the bottom of a pool, endeavouring to cut the line, by grating it against a rock, or other hard substance with the nose; when this occurs, throw gravel or small stones over the spot, where the fish is thus engaged, and it will try some other expedient.
In the Thames, on the 3rd October, 1812, Mr. G. Marshall, of Brewer Street, London, caught and killed a salmon with a single gut, that weighed twenty-one pounds, four ounces.
Sir H. Davy, used occasionally to visit the Tweed. Upon one occasion, he killed a salmon, that weighed forty-two pounds.
Mr. Lascelles, in his letters on sporting, says, “The largest salmon I ever knew taken with a fly in Scotland, weighed fifty-four pounds and a half.”
Sir Hyde Parker killed one in Sweden, that weighed sixty pounds; and the Earl of Home killed one in the Tweed, which weighed sixty-nine pounds and three-quarters.
The season of 1835, was remarkable for large salmon. A notice appeared in the papers of one that weighed fifty-five pounds. Mr. Mudie has recorded one of sixty pounds. In a note in several editions of Walton, one is mentioned that weighed seventy pounds. Pennant has noticed one of seventy-four pounds. The largest I have heard of was in the possession of Mr. Groves, the fishmonger, of Bond street, it weighed eighty-three pounds. It is not recorded how the last four were captured, but I conclude those mentioned by Walton, and Pennant, were also taken with the fly.
Page ninety-eight warns me, that my observations have exceeded the limit I originally assigned them; I trust however they have not been written in vain, but that the hints on fly-fishing, will enable the uninitiated to commence the sport, fortified with some practical information, and that his prospect of success will be more cheering than if he had depended on the assurance so readily given by the vendor of tackle—that his flies are certain killers, and his rods perfection.
I have written for the purpose of aiding the young in the acquirement of an art, which if pursued under proper restrictions, will be found conducive to the health of the body and improvement of the mind.
Knowing that vice too frequently springs up where cheerful recreations are forbidden, I hold it to be the duty of parents, to encourage the innocent amusements of their children.
The boy, who has been too severely curbed by the injudicious father, I have seen, in after life, a sullen, morose, deceitful man; his pleasures have been sought by stealth; falsehood has been practised, to evade the censure of those who should have encouraged his youthful pastimes. Vice, perchance has been courted, because it lurks in darkness and obscurity, beyond the reach of the parent’s eye, whose unwise command has forbid the joyous pursuits so congenial to the unclouded days of youth.
I have also written for the guidance of those of maturer age; who, fatigued with the drudgery of business, or worn by the anxiety of a profession, seek some recreation, which may recruit their strength and invigorate their minds, rendering them more fitted for the wonted task, and more capable of fulfilling the duties of their respective stations.
That these objects may be obtained, and that good sport may attend the Devon and Cornish fishermen, is the sincere wish of their fellow sportsman.
G. W. SOLTAU.
Little Efford, near Plymouth, 1847.
E. Nettleton, Printer to Her Majesty, Plymouth.