Chapter VII: Part 7

Note.—“Description of a day on Balsam Lake (headwaters of the Beaverkill) where no house was ever built. From the lake it is two miles through the woods (about ten miles in the dark) to the nearest house,”—Extract from letter accompanying article.

“I handle this ‘brown hackle’ as gently as a relic, not alone because it is the memento of an unusual achievement, but because the sight of it brings up vividly before me the beautiful lake where the trout lay; its crystal waters; the glinting of its ruffled surface as the bright sun fell upon it; the densely wooded hills which encircled it; the soughing of the tall pines as the summer’s breeze swept through their branches; and the thrill which coursed through every nerve as trout after trout leaped to the cast, and, after such manipulation and ‘play’ as only those who have had personal experience can comprehend, were duly captured.”—_George Dawson._

“Don’t be in too great a hurry to change your flies.”—_Francis Francis._

1. Brown Hackle.

2. Scarlet Hackle.

3. White Hackle.

4. Yellow Hackle.

5. Ginger Hackle.

6. Gray Hackle.

7. Black Hackle.

8. Coch-y-Bouddr.

9. Gray Hackle.

1. Emerald Gnat.

2. Black C.

3. Soldier Gnat.

1. Brown Pennell. Pennell Hackles.

2. Yellow Pennell.

3. Green Pennell.

“And now we have got through the poetry of the art. Hitherto things have gone happy as a marriage bell. I unhesitatingly declare, and I confidently appeal to my brother Angler, whether he, a fly fisherman, does not feel similarly. To me fly-fishing is a labor of love; the other is labor—alone. But notwithstanding such are my feelings, it by no means follows that every one else so fancies it. Every one to his taste.”—_Capt. Peel (“Dinks”)_

“When Spring comes round, look to your tackle with careful inspection, and see that all are in perfect order. Above all, look well to your flies; reject all specimens that have been injured by use, and all frayed gut lengths. It is better to throw away a handful now, than to lose flies and heavy fish together the first time you fasten to a rise.”—_Charles Hallock_.

“That hook is for a very little fly, and you must make your wings accordingly; for as the case stands it must be a little fly, and a very little one too, that must do your business.”—_Charles Cotton._

“For some reason which I have not succeeded in fathoming, the yellow fly always seems to kill best in the position of dropper, or bob-fly, and the green when employed as the stretcher, or tail-fly. The brown can be used in either position.”—_H. Gholmon-deley-Pennell._

“Note that usually, the smallest flies are best; and note also, that the light flie does usually make most sport in a dark day; and the darkest and least flie in a bright or clear day.”—_Izaak Walton_.

“No description with pen or tongue can teach you how to cast a fly. Accompany an expert and watch him.”—_T. S. Up de Graff, M. D._

“There is no more graceful and healthful accomplishment for a lady than fly-fishing, and there is no reason why a lady should not in every respect rival a gentleman in the gentle art.”—_W. C. Prime._

“Everything which makes deception more alluring should be resorted to by an Angler; for, let his experience be ever so great, he will always find opportunities to regret his deficiencies.”—_Parker Gilmore._

SUGGESTIONS

By Charles F. Orvis.

During my long intercourse with the angling fraternity, I have always found its members very ready to receive and impart suggestions, in the most friendly manner. It appears to me that those who are devoted to “the gentle art,” are especially good-natured; and while very many have their own peculiar ideas as to this or that, yet they are always willing and anxious to hear the opinions of others. Believing this, I am prompted to make a few suggestions, in regard to fly-fishing for trout, and the tackle used for that purpose; and if I differ from any, which will be very likely, I trust that what appears erroneous will be regarded charitably; and if I shall be so fortunate as to make any suggestions that will add to the enjoyment of any “brother of the Angle,” I shall be content.

The rod, of course, is of the first importance in an outfit, as very much depends on its perfection.

For ordinary fly-fishing for trout, a rod from ten to twelve feet in length will be found most convenient.

I use a ten-foot rod, and find it meets all my requirements.

It is well to let your rod have weight enough to have some “back-bone” in it; _very_ light and _very_ limber rods are objectionable, because with them one cannot cast well against, or across the wind; and it is impossible to hook your fish with any certainty—especially with a long line out—or to handle one properly when hooked.

A _very_ limber rod will not re-act quickly enough, nor strongly enough to lift the line and fix the hook firmly; because, when the upward motion is made, in the act of striking, the point of the rod first goes down; and, unless it is as stiff as it will do to have it and cast well, it will not re-act until the fish has found out his mistake and rejected the fraud.

Rods ten to twelve feet long should weigh from seven and one-half to ten and one-half ounces, depending on the material and weight of mountings, size of handpiece, etc. Many, perhaps, would say, that eight to ten ounces, for a single-handed fly-rod, is too heavy; that such rods would prove tiresome to handle. Much depends on how the rod hangs. If a ten-ounce rod is properly balanced, it will be no harder work to use it than a poorly balanced seven-ounce rod—in fact, not as fatiguing. Some men can handle an eleven-foot rod with the same ease that another could one that was a foot shorter. Hence, the rod should be adapted to the person who is to use it.

The stiffness of a split bamboo rod is one of its great merits. When I say stiffness, I mean the steel-like elasticity which causes it to re-act with such quickness.

For material for fly-rods, bamboo ranks first, lance-wood next; after mentioning these, there is not much to say. Green-heart is too uncertain. Paddlewood is very fine, but as yet, extremely difficult to obtain in any quantity.

The balance, or “hang,” of a rod is of the greatest importance. Let it be never so well made otherwise, if not properly balanced it will be worthless.

The elasticity should be uniform, from tip to near the hand; a true taper will not give this, because the ferules interfere with the uniform spring of the rod. For this reason a little enlargement between the ferules should be made, to compensate for the non-elasticity of the metal. These enlargements cannot be located by measurements, as much depends on the material and the length of the joint.

Spliced rods can be made nearer a true taper, for obvious reasons; although there is no doubt that a spliced rod is stronger and much more perfect in casting qualities, yet they require such care to preserve the delicate ends of the splice, and are so troublesome in many ways, that few will use them.

The details of rod-making having been so often told, I do not purpose making any suggestions on that subject, but will say that, in order to make a good fly-rod, the maker ought to know how to handle it, when finished.

I believe in a very narrow reel, and use one that is only one-half inch between outside plates. As both outside and spool plates are perforated, my line never mildews or gets tender. Hence, it is unnecessary to take the line off to dry it, as should be done when solid reel plates are used.

With such a reel my line never tangles. If your reel be narrow between plates, and large in circumference, it will take up line rapidly, and obviate the use of a multiplier, which is objectionable for fly-fishing. A light click is desirable, just strong enough to hold the handle and keep the line from over-running. More friction is of no use, and may cause you the loss of many fish.

Experience satisfies me that you should use your reel on the under side of your rod, with handle towards the right—because the weight of the reel so placed holds the rod in proper position without your giving it a thought, and your right hand finds the reel handle without trouble; because your reel is thus entirely out of the way of your arm; because with the rod always in proper position, your left hand finds the line every time, to draw it from the reel when wanted for a longer cast; because with the reel on the under side the rod is always exactly balanced, and you will not have to grasp it with anywhere near the force required with the reel on the upper side. And you can make your casts with ease and lay out your flies gently and more accurately than you could with the firmer grip needful to be kept on the rod with the reel in the latter position, and because, without constant attention, your reel is never on the upper side of the rod to any certainty, but anywhere and everywhere. Keep your reels well oiled.

Enamelled, or water-proof, braided silk, tapered, American fly-lines, are the best made for fly-fishing. It is important that the size of the line should be adapted to the rod. A heavy line on a very light rod would be bad. A very light line on a heavy rod would be worse. No. 3 or E, and Ko. 4 or E, are the two best sizes. I find many are inclined to use too light lines, supposing the lighter the line the less trouble there will be in casting it. This, I think, is an error.’

It is impossible to cast well against or across the wind, with a very light line; and very light lines do not “lay out” as easily or accurately as heavier ones.

Leaders, or casting lines, I like rather heavy, proportionate to the line. To use a very light leader on a Ko. 4 line is not well; for what is the leader but a continuation of the line? Therefore it should approximate the size of the line, that there may be no sudden change in size where the leader begins, in order that the flies shall keep ahead, where they belong.

Leaders should be made with loops at proper intervals, to which the flies are to be attached. Leaders with such loops will last at least twice as long as those without them.

Three flies are generally used; perhaps two are just as good. But I use three and often find the increased number to work well, as presenting a greater variety to the fickle notions of the many trout, and it is best to take all the chances.

The first dropper loop should be about thirty inches from the stretcher, or tail-fly. Second dropper, twenty-four inches above first dropper—depending somewhat on the length of the leader. Let the flies be as far apart as I have indicated. A greater distance is not objectionable—a lesser is.

Leaders should be tapered and made of the best quality of round gut. “Mist colored” or stained leaders are, by many, thought to be better than the clear white gut; but I must say I never have been able to see that they are, or that there is any difference, practically. There is no great objection to the colored leaders, and I use them myself usually. I will not undertake to settle the much-discussed question. Either plain or colored are good enough, if properly made and from good gut.

Always let your leader lie in the water awhile before commencing to cast, that the gut may soften—or you may lose your leader, fish and temper, and blame some one because you think you have been cheated, when no one was in fault but yourself in your haste. When you have finished fishing, wind your leader around your hat, and the next time you use it it will not look like a cork-screw, and bother you half an hour in casting.

To one who has not acquired the art of fishing with the fly, let me suggest that a day or two with an expert will save much time and trouble. There are many little things that cannot well be described, and would take a long time to find out by experience, that can be learned very quickly when seen. It is not easy to tell one exactly how to fish with the fly.

I remember well my first trout; I remember as well, the first fine rod and tackle I ever saw, and the genial old gentleman who handled them. I had thought I knew how to fish with the fly; but when I saw my old friend step into the stream and make a cast, I just wound that line of mine around the “pole” I had supposed was about right, and I followed an artist. (I never used that “pole” again.) I devoted my time that afternoon to what to me was a revelation, and the quiet, cordial way in which the old gentleman accepted my admiration, and the pleasure he evidently took in lending to me a rod until I could get one, is one of the pleasant things I shall always retain in memory.

To really enjoy fly-fishing one must be able to cast at least fairly well; to cast a very long line is not at all important—to cast easily and gently is. Fifty to sixty feet is all that is necessary for practical purposes, the great majority of trout are taken within forty feet.

It is not easy to tell one how to cast. The art must be acquired by practice. As I have said, much can be learned by observing an expert. There is one great mistake made by most beginners; i.e., far too much strength is used. Let me suggest to the novice to begin with the line about the length of the rod; learn to lay that out gently, and as you take your flies off the water, do it with a quick movement, decreasing the motion until your rod is at an angle of not quite forty-five degrees behind you, this angle to be varied according to circumstances which cannot be foreseen. Then the rod must come to a short pause, just long enough to allow the line and leader time to straighten out fairly, no more. Then the forward motion must be made with a degree of force and quickness in proportion to the length of line you have _out_, decreasing the force until the rod is about horizontal; do not bring your rod to a sudden stop, or your line and your flies will come down with a splash and all in a heap; but lay your line out gently, my friend, and your flies will fall like snowflakes. It is not muscle but “gentle art” that is required. “Take it easy” and keep trying.

In an open space, from a boat for instance, take your flies very nearly straight off the water; never dropping the point of your rod much to the right, as this leaves your line on the water and makes it hard to lift. Take your flies up with a quick movement, nearly vertical, and wait for them to straighten and cast again directly towards the point to which you wish them to go.

After you have acquired the skill to cast straight ‘before you will be time enough for you to practise side casts, under casts, etc., that you will have to use where there are obstacles before and behind you. The same movements to cast and retrieve your lines, will apply under all circumstances, whether in open water or on streams overhung with trees, or fringed with bushes. Much vexatious catching of flies may be avoided by not being too eager, and by not using too long a line. Let me add—just before your flies touch the water, draw back your rod slightly and gently; this will straighten the line, and your flies will fall exactly where you want them.

Cast your flies so that they fall as lightly as possible, with your leader extended to its full length; then draw your flies in the direction you wish, being careful not to draw them too far, or you will have trouble in retrieving your line for another cast. With your rod too perpendicular you cannot lift your line quickly enough to carry it back with sufficient force to straighten it out, and your next cast will be a failure. There is also much danger of breaking your rod. Usually you will get your rise just an instant after your flies touch the water, or before you have drawn them more than a little distance. It is better to cast often and draw your flies back just far enough so that you can easily lift your line for another cast. Moreover, with your rod too perpendicular it is not easy to hook your fish; so cast often and cover all parts of the pool.

I think most skilful fly-fishers draw their flies with a slightly tremulous motion, to make the flies imitate the struggles of an insect, and I believe it to be a good method. It certainly is not objectionable, and you will find it can be done without thought; the habit once formed and it will be difficult for you to draw your flies otherwise.

The instant you see a rise at one of your flies, strike quickly, but not too strongly, nor with a long pull, but with a short, sharp motion, not too strong or long enough to raise even a small fish from the water, but just enough to drive the hook firmly in. This may be done by an upward and inward motion, or a side motion, as circumstances may dictate. A slight turn of the wrist is often all that is required; but if you have a long line out, you will have to use your arm and more force. Your fish hooked, keep him well in hand; don’t give him any more line than is necessary. When he is determined to run, let him do so; but keep your fingers on the line and put all the strain on him you safely can, increasing the strain the further he goes. Turn him as soon as possible, and the instant you have done so, begin to reel him in. When he runs again, repeat the dose and get his head out of the water a little as soon as you dare. This exhausts him quickly. Don’t raise him too far out of the water, or in his struggles he will break loose.

Should a fish try to run under the boat, reel up until your line is no longer than your rod, or nearly so, then firmly guide him around the end—remembering always “it is skill against brute force.”

In stream-fishing, always wade if you can. When fishing from a boat never stand up if you can help it, but learn to cast sitting down. It is just as easy if you once learn how. On streams it is better to wade, because your feet produce no jar for you cannot well raise them out of the water, and dare not often. And for various reasons a person alarms the fish less in wading than in fishing from the bank.

Fish down stream always if possible. You can, in so doing, look over the pools and approach them to the best advantage. It is easier to wade with the current, and as you cast your flies you can let them float naturally for just an instant, without their being drawn under the surface. This instant is the time that, in a great majority of cases, you get your rise. Every one who has fished much with a fly knows how often he has whipped every inch of a pool and failed to get a rise where he was sure his flies could be seen from any part of it, and at last, when he placed his flies in one particular spot, his hopes were realized in an instant.

Why did not the trout rise before? Because he waited until his food came to him.

In streams, especially, trout usually rise an instant after the flies touch the water, and I believe that trout in streams commonly wait for their food to come to them, and do not often dart out from where they are lying to any great distance, but wait until the fly comes nearly or quite over them, and then rise to the surface and take the fly with a snap and instantly turn head down to regain the position they had left. In doing this they often turn a somersault and throw themselves out of the water; as they go over, their tails come down on the water with a splash, which some persons think is intentionally done to strike the fly or insect in order to kill or injure it and then afterwards capture it. Such persons fail to see the trout’s head at all, for very often it barely comes to the surface, but the quick motion to go down throws the tail up and over—hence the error, as I consider it. Any one who will take the trouble to throw house flies to trout in an aquarium, will never again think trout strike their prey with their tails.

The kinds of flies to be used vary with the locality, stream, state and stage of the water, weather, etc. The fly that pleased the fancy of the trout to-day—to-morrow perhaps in the same stream and under the same conditions, as far as any one could see, would fail. The only way is to keep trying until the one is found that _does_ please. Don’t change too often, but give each “cast” a fair trial.

I do not believe in certain flies for certain months in the year. I have stood up to my knees in snow and taken trout, in mid-winter, with the same flies I had used in mid-summer.

In low, clear water, especially in streams, small flies should be used. In higher water, larger flies are better, as a rule. When the water is high—as early in the season—larger and brighter-colored flies may be used to more advantage. Later, when the water is low and clear, smaller flies and more sober colors are best. I believe, however, that rules for the choice of flies have a great many exceptions, and the best rule I know of, is to keep trying different kinds and sizes until successful.

It is often said, “there is no need of so great a variety of flies.” I do not think this is true. Doubtless there are many styles that might well be dispensed with, but one never knows which to discard, and no man can tell him, for the very flies one man would say were worthless, another would consider the best—and prove it, plainly, by the success he had had with that very fly. So it is well to be provided with many kinds and sizes. I have learned of the merits of so many different kinds of flies that I sometimes think nearly all are good—at some time or under some circumstances. There is much doubt in my mind as to the necessity of having the artificial flies like the insects that are near or on the water. One of the best flies that has ever been known—the Coachman—does not in the least resemble any known insect, I believe—and but few of the many patterns made imitate anything in nature. The Cowdung fly, another one of the most “taking” flies—_does_ very much resemble the natural fly of that name—but I never saw or heard of their being on or near the water.

Early in the season, while the weather is yet cold, the middle of the day is usually quite as good, and I think the best time for fly-fishing. Later, in warm weather, the evening is the best, and often the last two hours of a pleasant day are worth all the rest of it.

Generally speaking, a gentle southerly breeze is the most favorable wind; yet I have had splendid sport during a strong north-easterly wind, but not often.

In conclusion, be patient and persevering, move quietly, step lightly, keep as much out of sight of the fish as possible, and remember, trout are not feeding all the time. Perhaps during the last hour before dark you may fill your basket, that has been nearly empty since noon. Don’t give up, as long as you can see—or even after—and you may when about to despair take some fine large fish.

Unless one can enjoy himself fishing with the fly, even when his efforts are unrewarded, he loses much real pleasure. More than half the intense enjoyment of fly fishing is derived from the beautiful surroundings, the satisfaction felt from being in the open air, the new lease of life secured thereby, and the many, many pleasant recollections of all one has seen, heard and done.

BASS FLIES.

“Doubt not, therefore, sir, but that angling is an art, and an art worth your learning; the question is, rather, whether you be capable of learning it, for angling is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so: I mean with inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse and practice; but he that hopes to be a good angler must not only bring an inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself; but having once got and practised it, then doubt not but angling will prove to be so pleasant that it will prove to be like virtue, a reward to itself.”—_Izaak Walton_.

“The black bass are unquestionably as fine a fish for angling purposes as any we possess, and as an article of food are equal to our best.”—_Parker Gilmore._

1. Cheney.

2. White Miller.

3. La Belle.

4. Scarlet Ibis.

5. Shad-Fly.

6. Green and Gold.

“Never use too much power in casting; it is not only not necessary, but it is injurious. You cast the line with the top and half the second joint, and very little force suffices to bring this into play. If you use more, all the effect is to bring the lower part of the rod into action, which has very little spring compared with the top of it.”— _Francis Francis._

“Although trout are taken with numerous angle worms, still frequently all these will fail, and a colored imitation fly will lure them, and herein lastly consists the science of the fisherman, in judging what style of fly is appropriate to a peculiar state of the atmosphere or reality.” _A. Robinson Warren._

“Black bass when struck and played will always head down stream.”—_W. C. Harris._

“Fish always lose by being ‘got in and dressed.’ It is best to weigh them while they are in the water. The only really large one I ever caught got away with my leader when I first struck him. He weighed ten pounds.”—_Charles Dudley Warner._

“The aim of the angler ought to be, to have his artificial fly calculated, by its form and colors, to attract the notice of the fish; in which case he has a much greater chance of success, than by making the greatest efforts to imitate any particular species of fly.” —_Professor Rennie._

“I fear it will be almost deemed heresy to place the black bass on a par with the trout; at least, some such idea I had when I first heard the two compared; but I am bold, and will go further. I consider he is the superior of the two, for he is equally good as an article of food, and much stronger and untiring in his efforts to escape when hooked.”—_Parker Gilmore_.

“The one great ingredient in successful fly-fishing is patience. The man whose fly is always on the water has the best chance. There is always a chance of a fish or two, no matter how hopeless it looks. You never know what may happen in fly-fishing.”—_Francis Francis._

“In bass fishing we have thought the moon to be an advantage. If it does not guide the prey to the lure, it at least lends beauty to the scene and bathes in its pale light the surroundings of the fisherman, which are often so exceedingly beautiful. In addition, it assists him in his work and enables him to handle his tackle more easily and play his fish more comfortably.”—_Seth Green._

THE RESOURCES OF FLY-FISHING.

By Dr. James A. Henshall.

The charms of fly-fishing have been sung in song and story from time immemorial by the poetically gifted devotees of the gentle art, who have embalmed the memory of its aesthetic features in the living green of graceful ferns, in the sweet-scented flowers of dell and dingle, and in the liquid music of purling streams.

The fly-fisher is a lover of Nature, pure and simple, and has a true and just appreciation of her poetic side, though he may lack the artist’s skill to limn her beauties, or the poet’s genius to describe them.

“To him who in the love of Nature holds

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks

A various language.”

And what delightful converse she holds with the fly-fisher, as with rod and creel he follows the banks of the meandering stream, or wades its pellucid waters, easting, ever and anon, the gossamer leader and feathery lure into shadowy nooks, below sunny rapids, over foam-flecked eddies, and on silent pools. She speaks to him through the rustling leaves, murmurs to him from the flowing stream, and sighs to him in the summer breeze. She is vocal in a myriad of voices, and manifest in innumerable ways.

The still fisher, reclining on the mossy bank, is disposed to dreamy reveries, to pleasant fancies; but the fly-fisher, with quickened senses, has an ear for every sound, an eye for every object, and is alive to every motion. He hears the hum of the bee, the chirp of the cricket, the twitter of the sparrow, the dip of the swallow; he sees the gay butterfly in its uncertain flight, the shadow of the drifting cloud, the mossy rock, the modest violet, the open-eyed daisy; he is conscious of the passing breeze, of the mellow sunlight, of the odors of the flowers, of the fragrance of the fields. Nothing escapes his keen notice as he casts his flies, hither and yon, in the eager expectation of a rise.

Fly-fishing is, indeed, the poetry of angling. The capture of the salmon is an epic poem, the taking of the trout an idyl. But it is not my presumptuous purpose to ring the changes on the delights of salmon or trout fishing, for they have been immortalized by the pens of gifted anglers for ages. My feeble effort would be but a sorry imitation of those glorious spirits who have made their last cast, who have crossed to the other side of the river, and

“Gone before

To that unknown and silent shore.”

So, leaving the salmon, the trout, and the grayling to their well-earned laurels, I wish to say a word for several less pretentious, because less known, game-fishes, whose merits are perhaps as great for the fly-fisher as those familiar game-beauties of the waters.

It is among the possibilities, in this world of transitory things, that fly-fishing for the salmonids in the United States will, in the near future, be known only by tradition. It should, therefore, be a source of great consolation to the fly-fisher to know that there are now, and perhaps will ever be, in the streams and lakes of this broad land, percoid game-fishes equally worthy of his skill, which require only to be known to be properly appreciated.

First among these is the black bass, which already ranks the brook trout in the estimation of those anglers who know him best: and when I say black bass, I include both species. The black bass is, at least, the peer of the trout in game qualities, and in rising to the artificial fly, under proper conditions. An allusion to a few of these conditions may not seem out of place.

As a rule, the best time of day for fly-fishing for the black bass is from an hour before sunset until dark, though there are times when he will rise to the fly at almost any hour of the day.

It is important that the angler keep out of sight, and that the shadow of his rod be not disclosed to the wary and suspicious bass; for if he sees either, he will not notice the flies, however skillfully and coaxingly they may be cast. Thus it is that the earlier and later hours of the day are best; the angler, facing the sun, the shadows are cast far behind him; or, before sunrise or after sunset, or on cloudy days, the shadows are not so apparent, and the bass are more apt to rise. If the fly-fisher for black bass will faithfully follow these precautions, he will not be disappointed at the result.

There is another condition, equally important, that must ever be borne in mind: The black bass will rise to the fly only in comparatively shallow water, say from one to six feet in depth. This is a feature often overlooked by many fly-fishers in their first experiences in black bass fishing. They seem to think that he should rise to the fly in any situation where he can be taken with bait; but a moment’s consideration will show this to be fallacious. A brook trout will take a bait twenty feet below the surface, but will not rise to a fly from the same depth. Trout streams are generally shallow, while the salmon swims very near the surface; thus it is that the angler is seldom disappointed in their rising to the fly. On the other hand, the black bass, while inhabiting larger and deeper streams, is, unlike the trout, a great rover, or forager, frequenting both deep and shallow waters. As a rule, he is in shallow water early in the season, retiring to the depths in the hottest weather; again appearing on the shallows in the fall, and in winter seeking the deepest water to be found. Trout inhabiting deep ponds and lakes rise to the fly only when in comparatively shallow water, or when near the surface. The fly-fisher, therefore, must expect to be successful only when the proper conditions exist. I would like to pursue this subject further, but in so brief an article as this, only the most general and important features can be noticed.

Any good trout fly-rod, from ten to eleven feet long, and from eight to nine ounces in weight, will answer for black bass fishing; the heavier rod to be used only where the bass run quite large, averaging three pounds or more. The best line is one of braided silk, tapered, waterproof, and polished. The leader should be six feet of strong single gut, and but two flies should be used in the cast. As to flies, the angler must take his choice. My experience has led me to confine myself to a dozen varieties for black bass fishing, and they are usually, though not always, best in the order named: Polka, King of the Waters, Professor, Oriole, Grizzly King, Coachman, Henshall, Oconomowoc, Ped Ibis, Lord Baltimore, White and Ibis, and the various hackles (palmers), the best being the brown. The Abbey, or Soldier, may often be substituted for the King of the Waters, being similar in appearance, and others may be substituted in like manner for several in the above list.

The Polka, Oriole, Oconomowoc and Henshall, are flies of my own designing, and are usually very killing, especially the Polka, Their construction is as follows:

Polka.—Body, scarlet, gold twist; hackle, red; wings black with white spots (guinea fowl); tail, brown and white, mixed.

Oriole.—Body, black, gold tinsel; hackle, black; wings, yellow or orange; tail, black and yellow, mixed.

Oconomowoc.—Body, creamy yellow; liackle, white and dun (deer’s tail); tail, ginger; wings, cinnamon (woodcock).

Henshall.—Body, peacock herl; hackle, white hairs from deer’s tail; wings, light drab (dove); tail, two or three fibres of peacock’s tail-feather.

The Lord Baltimore fly originated with Prof. Alfred M. Mayer, of the Stevens Institute of Technology, Hoboken, New Jersey, its formula being as follows:

Lord Baltimore.—Body, orange; hackle, tail, and wings black, with small upper wings of jungle-cock.

Professor Mayer and myself, being natives of Baltimore, designed, unknown to each other, a fly to embody the heraldic colors of Lord Baltimore and the coat of arms of Maryland—black and orange. He named his fly, “Lord Baltimore,” while mine I designated the “Oriole,” from the Baltimore oriole, or hanging bird, which beautiful songster was named in honor of Lord Baltimore, its colors being black and orange.

Black bass flies should not be too large, nor yet too small, the largest brook trout flies being about the right size. They should be tied on Sproat or O’Shaughnessy hooks, the first-named being the best, from Nos. 2 to 5. In the above list of flies, most of them are “general” flies, one of which, at least, can be used in the cast under almost any circumstances. The darkest ones are best for bright days and clear water, the brighter ones for dark days or high water, and the lightest ones, e. g.; Coachman and White and Ibis, after sundown.

There are several other inland fishes belonging to the same family (_Centrarchidoe_) as the black bass, which, though generally lightly esteemed, are good pan-fishes, are quite gamy, will rise eagerly to the fly, and in the absence of more desirable fishes, afford good sport to the fly-fisher with light and suitable tackle.

The Rock Bass (_Ambloplites rupestris_), sometimes called “Red-eye,” is well-known west of the Allegha-nies. Its color is olive-green, with dark mottled markings and brassy and coppery reflections. The iris of the eye is scarlet. The dorsal fin has eleven spines and eleven soft rays; anal fin, six spines and ten soft rays. It has a large mouth, rises well to the fly, and when it attains its maximum weight of a pound or two, fights vigorously on a six-ounce fly-rod and light tackle. Any of the “general” trout flies, tied on Sproat hooks, Nos. 5 to 7, will answer for rock bass.

The Calico Bass (_Pomoxys sparoides_), variously known as “Northern Croppie,” “Strawberry Bass,” “Grass Bass,” “Silver Bass,” “Chincapin Perch,” etc., is a very handsome fish, bright green and silvery, with purplish reflections, and numerous dark spots or blotches. The fins are also much mottled, especially the anal fin. It has a smaller mouth, and is not quite so gamy as the rock bass, but is, withal, a great favorite with many anglers. The radial formula of its fins are: Dorsal, seven spines, fifteen soft rays; anal, six spines, eighteen soft rays.

The Southern Croppie (_Pomoxys annularis_) is also called “Bachelor,”

“Tin-month,”

“Speckled-perch,”

“New-light,”

“Campbellite,” etc. It is closely allied to the last-named species, but is not quite so deep in body, and has a larger, thinner, and more delicate mouth. It is also much lighter in color, olivaceous, and silvery, sometimes quite pale, with much smaller spots, and the anal fin is pale and scarcely marked. Its dorsal fin has but six spines, and fifteen soft rays; anal fin, six spines, eighteen rays. Both the “Croppies” have large anal fins, fully as large as the dorsals. They grow to two or three pounds in weight, usually swim in schools, and lurk about logs, brush, or fallen trees, under dams, etc. They give fair sport on a five-ounce rod. Trout flies of subdued tints should be used for croppies, as the gray, brown and red hackles, gray drake, brown drake, stone fly, black gnat, blue dun, etc.

The Black Sunfish (_Chaenobryttus gulosus_), known in the South as the “War-mouth Perch,” is more nearly related to the black bass than any other member of the family in its large mouth, the radial formula of its fins, and to some extent in its coloration; it also partakes of the gamy nature of the black bass to no inconsiderable degree. Its color is dark olive-green on the back, the sides lighter, with blotches of blue and coppery red, the belly brassy or yellowish; iris red; ear-flap black, bordered with pale red. It has teeth on the tongue. Dorsal fin, ten spines, nine soft rays; anal, three spines, eight rays. With a six-ounce fly-rod, and any of the flies named for black bass, the fly-fisher will find this fish worthy of his steel, as it grows to two pounds in weight.

The Blue Sunfish (_Lepomis pallidus_) is a very common and widely-diffused species. In the South, it is known as the “Blue Bream,” and “Copper-nosed Bream.” Its mouth is quite small. In color it is olivaceous or bluish-green, with a distinct dusky spot on the last rays of dorsal and anal fins. The dorsal has ten spines, eleven rays; anal, three spines and ten soft rays. It is closely allied to the following species.

The Long-eared Sunfish (_Lepomis megalotis_), or “Red-bellied Bream,” or “Red-bellied Perch,” of the Southwest, is one of the handsomest sunfishes. Its color is bluish on the back, with the belly red or orange; cheeks with blue and red stripes; colors very brilliant; iris bright red; ear-flap very large, black, with pale border. Dorsal fin with ten spines, ten soft rays; anal, three spines, ten rays. Both this and the last-named species are quite wary, very gamy, and are greatly esteemed by Southern anglers, and not without reason. When they reach a pound or two in weight they furnish excellent sport on a five-ounce rod. Any of the trout-flies of gay patterns, as Red Ibis, White and Ibis, Professor, Grizzly King, etc., on Sproat hooks, Nos. 8 to 10, will answer, if the day be not too bright, in which event less showy flies should be used. As a rule, any of the hackles (palmers), are good flies for these or any fishes of this family.

The striped-bass group, or sub-family (_Labracinoe_), is composed of some of our best game-fishes. They will all rise to the fly, but more especially the fresh water species. Those of the coast, the striped-bass or rock-fish (_Roccus lineatus_), and the white perch (_Roccus americanus_), when they enter brackish and fresh-water streams, are frequently taken with a gaudy fly.

The White Bass (_Roccus chrysops_), also called “Striped Lake Bass,” and “Fresh-water Striped Bass,” is a well-known game-fish of the great lakes and Upper Mississippi Valley, and is rightly held in much favor by western anglers. Its color is silvery, darker above, with a number of dark stripes along the sides, four or five being above the lateral line. The mouth is large. There are two distinct dorsal fins, being entirely separated. The first dorsal has nine spines; the second dorsal, one spine and fourteen soft rays; anal fin has three spines and twelve soft rays. A patch of teeth on base of tongue. Its usual weight is one to three pounds, though it is occasionally taken up to four or five pounds. It is good game, rises well to the fly, and on a six or seven-ounce rod is capable of giving fine sport.

The Yellow Bass (_Roccus interruptus_), or “Brassy Bass,” or “Short Striped Bass” takes the place of the white bass in the Lower Mississippi Valley, and is closely allied to it, though it usually does not grow so large by a pound or two. It has a smaller mouth, and has no teeth on the base of its tongue. Its color is brassy, olivaceous above, with seven very black stripes along its sides. The dorsal fins are somewhat connected at the base. First dorsal has nine spines; second dorsal has one spine and twelve soft rays; anal fin, three spines, nine soft rays. Any of the flies recommended for the black bass, though made smaller and tied on Sproat hooks, Nos. 4 to 6, will be found excellent for the white and yellow bass.

In the perch family (_Percidoe_) are several species that are excellent for the table, and not to be despised as game-fishes. The most commonly known is The Yellow Perch (_Perca americana_), which inhabits most of the waters of the Northwest and East, being found in both fresh and brackish waters. In color it is dark olive with yellow sides, and some halfdozen dark vertical bars; upper fins, dusky yellowish; lower fins, reddish. Mouth moderate in size. First dorsal fin has thirteen spines; second dorsal, one spine and thirteen soft rays; anal, two spines, eight soft rays. It grows usually to a pound, though sometimes to double that weight. It rises pretty well at times, to a small gaudy fly, and on a five-ounce rod will give considerable sport to the angler.

The Pike-Perch (_Stizostedium vitreum_), likewise known as “Mall-eyed Pike,” “Glass Eye,” and in some waters called “Salmon,” and in Canada known as “Pickerel,” is a fine table fish, growing occasionally to fifteen or twenty, and even to forty pounds, though its usual weight is from four to six pounds. Its color is a greenish-olive, mottled with brassy yellow; it has a large black spot on the first dorsal fin. Eye large. First dorsal fin has thirteen spines; second dorsal, two spines and twenty soft rays; anal, two spines, twelve rays.

There is a much smaller variety of this species (var. _salmoneum_), which grows to but two or three pounds. It has a larger eye. Its color is bluer, or greener than the above, and not so brassy. First dorsal has fourteen spines; second dorsal, one spine, twenty soft rays; anal fin, two spines, thirteen soft rays.

Both of these fishes, together with the next-named, are hard-pulling, vigorous fishes on the rod, though they do not exhibit much dash or take much line. They swim away rather slowly, but are constantly jerking, tugging and pulling on the line in such a way as to compel the angler to handle them carefully to preserve his tackle intact. They are regarded with much favor by anglers in the West and Northwest. The same tackle is used as for black bass.

The Saugek (_Stizostedium canadense_) is also called “Jack,”

“Sand-pike,”

“Gray-pike,” and “Battle-snake-pike.” It is closely related to the foregoing species, though smaller, growing to a length of twelve to fifteen inches. It is longer and rounder in proportion than any of the pike-perches, with a more pointed head and smaller eye. Its color is paler, grayish above, with brassy sides, which are marked by several blackish blotches or patches. First dorsal fin has two or three rows of’ round black spots. First dorsal has twelve spines; second dorsal, one spine, seventeen soft rays; anal, two spines, twelve soft rays.

Both species of pike-perch are nocturnal (the last not so much so), and are very similar in their habits. Usually they rise best to the fly at sundown, continuing until late in the evening, especially on moonlight nights; therefore at least one fly in the cast should be some light-colored fly, as the Coachman, White and Ibis, or Miller. Sometimes, however, darker flies are just as good after nightfall as during daylight. The flies for pike-perch should be as large or larger than bass flies, and should be tied on Sproat hooks, Nos. 1 to 3.

The angler who is so unfortunately situated as to be debarred from salmon, trout, or black bass fly-fishing, can always find in the small streams or ponds near him, one or more of the fishes described in the foregoing account, when, by the use of very light and suitable tackle, he can enjoy to a great degree the delights and pleasures of fly-fishing.

Even the despised pike or pickerel species (_Esocidoe_) and some of the catfishes will rise to a large and gaudy fly. In Florida I have taken catfish with the artificial fly until my arms ached and I was fain to cry quits. I have also taken many marine species with the fly, as red-fish, blue-fish, sea-trout, snappers, groupers, crevalle, bone-fish, snooks, etc., etc., and once, as a matter of experiment, a five-foot alligator. The ‘gator was taken with a “fly” tied on a shark-hook, the hackled body being a squirrel’s tail, with wings of a small seagull. The rod, used on that occasion only, was a light pine sprit (belonging to the sail of a small boat), fifteen feet in length, an inch and a half in diameter at the centre and tapering to an inch at each end.

Thus it will be seen that the opportunities and resources for fly-fishing are nearly as great as for baitfishing, and that it only remains for the angler to take advantage of them, study the habits of the fishes, attain the necessary skill in casting, and practice due caution in fishing.

“All the charm of the angler’s life would be lost but for these hours of thought and memory. All along a brook, all day on lake or river, while he takes his sport, he thinks. All the long evenings in camp, or cottage, or inn, he tells stories of his own life, hears stories of his friends’ lives, and if alone calls up the magic of memory.”—_W. C. Prime._

“It is a mooted question among the very best ‘fly-fishers,’ whether an exact representation of the living insect is necessary to insure success in angling with the fly. The Scotch flies are not imitations of living insects; and the best anglers in that country maintain the opinion that it is absolutely useless and unnecessary to imitate any insect either winged or otherwise.”—“_Frank Forester._”

7. Henshall.

8. “Oconomowoc.”

9. Oriole.

10. Polka.

11. Ondawa.

12. “W. T.”

“Sometimes, of course, the loss of fish, or even fish and tackle, cannot be avoided: but good, careful work and the best materials will frequently obviate so annoying an ordeal. However, having struck your fish, the tackle and your own coolness are generally responsible for the issue, and woe betide you if careless knot or indifferent tying should have been made in constructing your leader or fry,”—_Parker Gilmore_.

“It is well known that no person who regards his reputation will ever kill a trout with anything but a fly. It requires some training on the part of the trout to take to this method. The uncultivated, unsophisticated trout in unfrequented waters prefers the bait and the rural people, whose sole object in going a-fishing appears to be to catch fish, indulge them in their primitive taste for the worm. No sportsman, however, will use anything but a fly, except he happens to be alone.”—_Charles Dudley Warner._

“The true fly-fisher, who practises his art _con amore_, does not delight in big catches, nor revel in undue and cruel slaughter. He is ever satisfied with a moderate creel, and is content with the scientific and skilful capture of a few good fish. The beauties of nature, as revealed in his surroundings—the sparkling water, the shadow and sunshine, the rustling leaves, the song of birds and hum of insects, the health-giving breeze—make up to him a measure of true enjoyment, and peace, and thankfulness, that is totally unknown to the slaughterer of the innocents, whose sole ambition is to fill his creel and record his captures by the score.”—_James A. Henshall, M.D._

“In the fly book the sportsman collects his treasures—the fairy imitations of the tiny nymphs of the water side—and it is the source of much delight in inspecting, replenishing and arranging during the season that the trout are safe from honorable pursuit.”—_R. B. Roosevelt_.

“There have been caught in Walden, pickerel, one weighing seven pounds, to say nothing of another which carried off a reel with great velocity, which the fisherman safely set down at eight pounds, because he did not see him. I am thus particular, because the weight of a fish is commonly its only title to fame.”—_Henry D. Thoreau_.

“Wet days in camp try ‘grit.’ ‘Clear grit’ brightens more crystalline the more it is rained upon; sham grit dissolves into mud and water.”—_Theodore Winthrop_.

WINTER ANGLING

By Frank S. Pinckney.

The best winter angling is to be had in that charming interval between the hallowed old holidays and that sloppy period which, of late years, heralds the slow approach of spring in these our latitudes.

The practice of angling at this season of the year for large trout, immense black bass and preternatural mascalonge, has grown of late to proportions which seem to warrant some special mention of so delightful, if unseasonable, a sport, as well as some brief description of the tackle and paraphernalia required for its fullest enjoyment.