VLEE ee MOLE \ ae ww SS Wa MAH W oN x S. \ SS AN MAAK HARVARD UNIVERSIFY. LIBRARY OF THE MUSEUM OF COMPARATIVE ZOOLOGY T2390 GIFT OF noes Os el Bee H ; Ho a O- J #f RIPUL OU Typ) heal 3p. t I i pa EB: 20 1936 / 890 ANGLERS’ EvEninc 35. Papers BY MEMBERS OF THE MANCHESTER ANGLERS’ ASSOCIATION. -- f Manchester: ABEL HEywoop AND Son, 56 AND 58, OLDHAM STREET. Loudon: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL AND Co. 1880. z) Ladle a 7 , /] Re ate or oy Ag aE i Tl ae ATAnCE a le Cra Soa ee ae a ACIS . 7 CAM SHE ADVERTISEMENT. THIS book, as stated on the title page, is a,collection of papers read by members of the Manchester Anglers’ Association, at their monthly meetings. Anglers, though preferring silence and solitude while engaged in the practice of their art, are usually all the more disposed to cultivate the social qualities when gathered beneath a hospitable roof-tree. Of these qualities, talk is one. Lord Bacon says that “the honorablest part of talk is to give the occasion; and again to moderate and pass to somewhat else.” The object of each of these papers was thus to “give the occasion,” and, therefore, they are not necessarily of a learned character, as is the case with papers appearing in the volumes called “ Transactions.” It has been thought that some matter contained herein, some items of information, or passing thoughts, might be acceptable to a wider circle of brothers of the iv. angle than is comprised in the list of members of the Association. The volume is, therefore, placed before the public in the same spirit in which its component parts were submitted to the original hearers. Though good listeners are desirable members of a social gathering, yet it is proper that each man should be prepared to contribute somewhat to the general entertainment. But there be some men who are too strongly impressed with a sense of this duty, and who do not “leave other men their turns to speak,” but “would reign and take up all the time.”” Such loquacious persons are eminently amiable, but occasionally tire- some. This not infrequent drawback to spoken discourse, is, however, absent when the matter is presented in the form of a printed book; for, by simply closing the volume, the reader can stop the supply when his present wants are satisfied. At least one practically useful purpose may be served by this book. It is a souvenir of pleasures enjoyed on the banks of pure streams and in the midst of rural scenery; and emanating, as it does, from the chief city of a district where aquatic life is being utterly destroyed by river pollution, and where the varied beauties of nature are being too wantonly V. up-rooted and defaced, its very title may serve the purpose of an additional protest, and help to stimulate the public to hasten the day, when science and the will of mankind will combine to preserve and restore sights and sounds which are essential to mental health. Manchester, December 31st, 1879. C0 Net EN Se PAGE. “LET PATIENCE HAVE HER PERFECT WORK.” Cot. [ferzis) Ih USCIS, (Cold; 955 aosnoosocasssecocoanaononoa6 npessode I TROUT-FISHING IN NORWAY. ABEL HEyYwoop, JuNR. PART I.—BERGEN TO L/BRDAL wcoccerccsccsccsncoos ppecatioqcadacadan 6 PART —Ie RDA) DO) CHRISTIANA tcnscscenece lastecssencs ervse 20 AE BAPAUN CIEE RES MONG WWiaWWicsckasscsdeueecescssnssessesteiswscestsesosees 37 REDE VON POR SRTS EVES ss Bu)/HARAD Atv, wht, Sanceaeess ses ssset 40 ROD TISHING, OPER THE ISEB OF MAN. 8) GaSte..cscss. 64 ANE CONGERES TOR YE EDWIN) WAU GH ersescccsescitserernecescsetes. 85 AN OCTOBER DAY MONG THE GRAYLING. Davip IVEID sys ecarscaseavescsorscccs secvsacsconacsuesececcers ccswesereceeceeee 88 NOTE ON THE GRAYLING AND THE POLLAN ELEN RV LMESON MI) Sgescceces! coennovessessuscereseceausesens 97 BISHs OU OR WADERS (CRABSDICK.ecccccsssscrcessaetcecelcecesss 98 ANGLING IN THE IRWELL. EDWARD CORBETT..........00+0+ 102 NOTE ON THE CHEMICAL CONSTITUTION OF FISH- ING) WATERS) ANDES OR) Es SRW HI: CHARTES PEST COURD me bale Camb. Sireces eee aeesceeenctteest 117 EE PAIN GERRY SEE WIR IRS to GRIAWIENiscccaanccerecescsseesmescceres 118 THE WENSLEYDALE YORE AND ITS TRIBUTARIES. APFOMAS ELAR KER) «a vecsescsecsateccsscasescceecss ters ssc dveseseese 120 THE EDEN AT ARMATHWAITE. FREDK. KENDERDINE..... 131 A DREAM OF SPRING TIME AT PEN-Y-BONT. (GHORGEPDAV IES eecensascosestcnoncesnsestsessescesassenensnesaes 136 THE LOCHS AND RIVERS OF SUTHERLAND. WALEETAMG BAINTIOCKccrsnscsessesenssens ppOOdOTOgUSCONDoUG GoasHSd06 138 NOTES ON THE NATURAL HISTORY, ANTIQUITIES, &c OR SUMERERICAN DD, Pee sccssescosencrcecces eis 168 AN INTERCEPTED LETTER. AN ANGLER’S WIFE... ....... 172 THE RAID TO KIRCUDBRIGHT. THE Rarpers. CHAPTER T= DHE, SCENE vsscccscscsesacesacecsenes x iy ny Me ew 4 ‘ } Wd, : ‘ Mig ; “ ~ he : oP. Ot a Dee ey iss i gy i at ho rh OVE od Sak f ’ ‘ : é 2 Pit . NA Ls Ca ( eal TY AS 5 ad idge aide y i . R ne f ; y ral y f ‘ eek Shs at te 16 Bias : PPS alr : : sith Wes i= ‘ie AE ee: : “By? wy \ i+ P ; i fata? ‘ - 4 Aa. ee Pr aa, (NY 9 . ¥ ‘ i bP oily s) ie ’ i 4 he : 4 ) y te ALL ; “ Seer AUN :. , ; : } } a M ; aay! J Srey j ¢ . } ray" } yehie i ‘ ' " A VV ) 4 f i Rn iL : 1 eR eed Wy «| ia! eta WA J 4 4 mi Md y Ply Ser ami , ’ J . ‘ 7 eee } + < t | i 7 . PP ee = nr) wi a eo phi) 4 ' ey 4 - an ‘ het: ny wip A | ae ine TT as , A ae i - AS a ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. ert PATIENCE HAVE EER PRREHCT WO Ke BY COLONEL JOHN I. MAWSON, PRESIDENT. meal’, in the fiftieth angling year of a Waltonian (the | writer of these lines), the gentle word Patience has lost none of its true meaning, and influence upon his mind and actions; if, through his many struggles, angling for the good opinion of his fellow-men, and for a position respected by his friends and acquaint- ances, he has ever found that word to have been an unfailing mentor and invincible auxiliary, can he act more honestly, and, as it were, more gratefully, than by acknowledging the friend to whom he owes so much, and without whose continual presence his exertions might have been fruitless ? Patience is that friend. Not content with the exercise of her own great qualities, she enlists, for the benefit of those with whom she dwells, the aid of her partner, Perseverance, equal 2h, ANGLER IS Eye NM GS: in nobility to herself, so that “with Patience and Per- severance men do attain their desire.’* These lines being written by a Wandering Fisherman, with the best intent, are meant only for the charitable and uncritical consideration of his Brothers ot the Angle; and, lest it be supposed that he arrogates the title of Mentor, be it remembered that he is honoured with that of President, and that, although the saying of ye anticnt authorities, “the king can do no wrong,” may not be of much value, your head officer, in the present case, claims that 4e cannot do much harm. Nay, even if his dissertation should raise a smile, such will, he believes, be only a Waltonian expansion of the facial muscles, acting sympathetically with the heart, and will correspond with the joyous look of an experienced Brother when he has safely landed a Two-pounder. Of a surety it will be so, for in each case he will have gotten something good. The heart of the writer is too deeply impressed with the pleasantness of his office, and at the same time the importance of his exhortation, to desire to be considered Facetious, and he therefore dictates to his pen the fol- lowing thoughts, advice, suggestions, wise saws, and experiences—real or supposed,—in the hope that the good in them, “when found, will be made a note of.” Now, BE IT KNOWN TO the members of the Man- chester Anglers’ Association, and never forgotten by them, that the spirit of Izaak Walton, speaking through * Had she so dwell’d with the Fisherman of the title page, he would not have touched his line and might have attained his desire. PATIENCE. 3 the exhortation of their President, says: “Brothers of the Angle, one injunction I lay Bee you—Let brotherly love continue.” It should also dwell in the minds of meditative men (and the same Walton says “Such be fishermen”) that the man who wrote the great precept at the head of these lines, was a fisherman, and that, being such, he had, of a surety, been subject to many disappointments ; doubtless he well understood his own exhortation. Fishermen, above all others, have need to exercise patience and perseverance; for such is necessary, not only in their business callings, but especially in the pursuit of their pleasure; without such exercise they would simply be as other men, who may be without self-control, hasty intemper, and unstable; and as such they shall not excel in the practice of their art. And let all consider the great and noble tone created in the mind by the practice of these virtues in the art of fishing. Sorely tempted to despond art thou, oh fisherman! how often inclined to rebel against the loved partner of thy bosom, when, returning weary and disappointed with non-success, and sorely puzzled thereby, thou seekest to be relieved, on floor of stone, of thy heavy boots, and dost find, instead of help, the flat and hollow-beaten iron, on fender laid before thy very eyes, with ostentation cruel. Patience and Love! now for your boasted virtue! A smile, and then another, and then But some of ye are bachelors!—Well, then the hollow-beaten iron doth vanish, and with slippers on, and comforts in, the friend of patience rests,—with eyes on blazing coal he 4 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. sits and thinks,—and thinks; and next, at early morn, he wakes, with form and mind refreshed, and hopeful —nay, his hopes are certainties, Has he not, either dreaming or awake, found reasons for the of yester- day? (Failure he will not call it, he knows not such a word —it is not British enough; he cannot give it a name, —nor can I,—so let it pass.) Reasons he has found, or or thinks he has; what matters it? His mind is active, —he is content to try again, and so he does, and wins ; and wins at many things in after-life—yet even when he wins not, he is content, for he can “try again.” But there are fishermen whose pleasure rests only in success, and they have a mighty pleasant way of de- scribing the large baskets they have filled, or the larger fish they have missed basketing. Brothers, we wish them well,—-we wish them well. Your President hath met them at times in his fifty years’ wandering, and hath now and then been mystified, upon being shewn most improbable flies, with undamped feathers, most innocent of guile, and newly tied on line. He thought it was not like Old Izaak, who would “with us have shared his fish, and shewn the flies that caught them.” Every true fisherman has learned, or found out, some speciality due either to his style of fishing, or the district to which he has devoted most of his time; and rarely is such an one found to hide his knowledge,—rather does he burden you with the tale of his experience, much of which is necessarily your own. Reciprocity is especially Waltonian, and often charms away troubles and disputes, The writer has known PATIENCE. 5 instances of strong antagonism and antipathy being dis- solved during a quiet chat on the river bank after the request for interchange of flies, which interchange and dissolution were, most singular to relate, immediately followed by an interchange of “two nips of pale”; indeed, it is said, they also have been followed, several times, until four friends have been seen, instead of two men at enmity. Mutual forbearance,—kind words,—considerate and kind tokens of good-will, cement, both on the river bank and Piccadilly, not only friendship, but that affection which often begins between men of the angle, and doth then continue, and ennoble both; and when good-will exists amongst men, so will Patience have perfected her work. And now, the writer (having become thoroughly prosy) will justify and conclude his dissertation upon the virtues practised by true fishermen, by referring all men to the writings of Izaak the Good. Lastly—but remember as Firstly— Do nothing in haste. Use the best tackle. Keep your head cool, Your back and feet dry and warm, And your heart in charity with all men. Written at our Fisherman's Home, on the banks of the [rt, an Cumberland, and faithfully addressed to our Brother Anglers meeting at Piccadilly, in Manchester, this 30th day of Fune, 1878. TROUT FISHING JIN” NORW Ay: BY ABEL HEYWOOD, JUNR. PART 1—BERGEN TO LARDAL. (eS TEAMERS sail from Hull for Christiania, ‘Gacy calling at Christiansand, every week, and for Bergen, calling at Stavanger, every fortnight. On the two occasions when I have visited the country I have made Bergen my port of debarcation, for two or three reasons. The first is, that the best fishing and most beautiful rivers are on the western side of the country, and I, like most anglers, am always anxious. to use my rod as soon as possible; another, that when you have only a trifle over a fortnight at command, as was my case, you gain a day by sailing to the latter place, as the Christiania boat sails on Friday, and the Bergen on Thursday. A final reason is, that should you by any accident get delayed on your journey across the country from the west, it cannot be a worse affair than the loss of a week, whilst, in the other case, it may be that you will be delayed a fortnight. We sail generally at from six to seven o'clock in the evening, and if the weather be very calm, as I have seen it, we may on the following day, as we pass over TROUT IN NORWAY. 7 the great Dogger Bank, see fish, apparently whiting, by the score, in the bright clear water. On one occasion, when I was having a counting match with a friend, he taking all the fish he could see on one side of the bowsprit and I on the other, we had an admirable view of the under-water swimming of the birds known as divers. There were three of them right in our path, and when we got almost close to them they dived and were distinctly visible for some time, using their wings in water just as in air, and going almost as quickly in one element as in the other. By half-past ten or so on Saturday morning we reach’ Stavanger, but for some hours before that time, we have been sailing between the mainland and the innumerable islands which stud the coast from the Naze to the North Cape, in calm water, where there is no fear of sea-sickness. This passage among the rocks and islands is most interesting, and occasionally exciting. In places, the ship goes through channels which seem barely wide enough for her passage, and turns and twists occur so rapidly in the course, tliat one keeps running from side to side of the vessel to see if she is not going to bump. Stavanger is an important town, built at the extremity of a small fiord, where the tide is so slight, that houses and warehouses are built right down to the water’s edge, and even into the fiord. These are all of wood, painted all sorts of bright light colours, and roofed with red tiles; and the whole town being surrounded by wooded hills, has a most picturesque appearance, which the splendidly clear water of the fiard much increases. The water is so 8 ANGLERS EVENINGS. clear, that the boats which throng around the steamer do not seem to touch the water at all, for you can see every part of them as clearly as though they were on land. There is a little cargo to land here, and while this is going on, you may go on shore to the Credit Bank and get your money changed, which will enable you, if you wish it, to start off from Bergen early next morning, instead of spending all Sunday there, waiting till the banks open on Monday. To one who goes to Norway for the first time, I should say, certainly spend a day in Bergen, it is a curious and interesting town, situated on a beautiful fiord, and a place, if trout were not in view, where even more than one day could be profitably spent. On my latter visit, when I had come to “know my way about” pretty well, my companion and myself agreed to waste no time in towns, and we left Bergen, where we arrived after midnight, by eight o’clock in the morning. We ordered cartioles to be got ready while we breakfasted, and the two curious little carriages drove up to the door soon after we had finished. In the districts where there are no railways, and there is in Norway happily only one, the carriole is the only means of travel, unless you go on foot. This carriage is in appearance something like a small sitz-bath, placed on the end of a pair of long slender shafts, and mounted on wheels, You sit inthe bath with your legs stretched out before you, the seat not being more than a few inches high; or you can rest your feet on a cross bar, or even dangle your legs between the wheels. There are no springs to the vehicle, but the shafts are long and slender, TROUT IN NORWAY. 9 ending at the back of the bath, where a cross-board is placed, on which your luggage, if you have any, is tied. The journeys along the roads are in stages, from “station” to “station,” four or five to ten or twelve English miles apart. These stations are places at which you change your horses or carrioles, and at most of them you can get a bed and food, if you require them. It is not advisable to go further than one stage with the same horse, even if the animal is equal to it, but perhaps the first ride from Bergen is an exception. The first two stages will be about sixteen miles, and this distance you will do for one dollar. Your drive is through scenery which you would suppose to be Scotch if you did not know it to be Norwegian, and, though beautiful and varied, has nothing particularly noticeable about it. Garnees, the first station, is reached at about twelve o'clock. It is on the edge of a fiord, where the road termi- nates, and further progress must evidently be by water. As soon as we arrived, we asked for the Day Book and booked ourselves, as it is always necessary to do, for the next stage, to Dale, a water journey of seventeen or eighteen miles. We found the peasants in the house eating out of one common dish, with one wooden spoon which was also common to the lot, and I had a little discussion with the men as to how long a boat would take to get ready. My stock of the native tongue is not large, and being on the first day unaccustomed even to the sound of it, I could make nothing out of them, but one was a practical genius, and leading me to the clock, pointed to two o'clock. “No, no,” I said, and in turn pointed to the 10 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. figure One, and, as I would hear no reason, I had my way, for soon after one the boat appeared. ; We had three men with us to row, rather a curious number perhaps, but we got on well, and I soon found that pipes, like spoons, were held in common, for a solitary pipe kept circulating from mouth to mouth throughout the voyage. I cannot venture to say anything of the scenery through which we passed; it is not a thing to talk about, and while you are being quietly rowed along that fiord, it is not even a time to talk. The man who has sailed this journey bears away a remembrance of beauty and glory that will last his lifetime, but he bears it as a secret, which he can never impart. It was after six o’clock when we reached the station at Dale, and by this time we were so far called back to the grossness of life, that we first of all asked for some- thing to eat. They had nothing, neither eggs, nor bread, nor milk, nor meat—nothing but some “ flad-bréd,” a dish of raspberries, and some coffee; so we dined off these delicacies, and then began to think of supper. At Dale, which I find in my journal described as “the most beautiful spot in all the world,” a little river enters the fiord, and the custom of the country, as well as the necessity of the case, urged upon us the advisability of trying our angles on that calm Sunday evening. A little higher up the stream than the station a bridge is built, and below it is a fine pool where anyone can see that the fish will lie; but there are many people about and I do not care to perform before an audience. I straightened my flies out, however, and in the process took two or three TROUT IN NORWAY. II small trout; and then, singling out a lad to carry my landing-net, I went a few hundred yards down stream, where the dimples and wrinkles on the surface of the water showed that deep rocks lay where the eye, in the twilight, could not see them. Here I threw out my flies, and instanter, away goes the line, making the reel sing out its delightful music. Whilst the fish runs unchecked I turn to my lad and joyfully call “stor fisk,” which are the only words I know for “big trout.” “Stor fisk,” he replies, as glad as I. But it is no easy thing to have a lad who can hardly understand a word you say, handling your landing-net. “Gently,” you bawl out, as you carefully wind your fish in, and in response, your assistant with a clumsy splash of the net frightens the trout away into the midst of the waters again, and there is your hope of supper and breakfast which was at your feet a moment ago, twenty yards out in the pool and still running. He has never shown himself, so the chances are he is well hooked, but you are bound to put some pressure on, for you do not know what he may be making for. At last he comes slowly in again, tamed this time, and the lad whom you have been shouting at in your own language, for you can find no other, more lucky than before, gets the net under him, and lifts out a nice sea-trout of a pound and a half. This might serve for supper, but there is still light enough to go on, and you cannot find in your heart to leave the pocl. Again the flies dance on the surface, and another sea-trout, somewhat smaller than the first, comes into the net. One more fish, about the same size as the second, is caught, 12 ANGLERS EVENINGS. and then it is too dark to go on, and we return to the station, or to another house close by, where, we are told, we shall find better beds than at the station itself. We are glad of the change, for the house is cleaner than the last and every way in better condition. But we are not able to get our trout cooked after all, and once more feed on flad-bréd. We are up before six in the morning, and while breakfast is getting ready, I go down to the river again with my rod, and am fortunate enough to land, after an exciting fight, a sea-trout of 2341b. This is my last success at Dale. A countryman who came up just as I landed my fish, persuaded me to fetch salmon rod and flies, and, while I went for them, caught with my tackle another trout, the twin of the one I had taken. I had no luck with the salmon, and had soon to go to breakfast, to which we had fish, eggs, milk, and cocoa (the latter we had brought with us), a sumptuous meal indeed. I am a pretty ardent angler, and I do not think that anywhere but at Dale I ever gave up fishing in disgust. But here, in the bright morning sun, as I raised my eyes from the waters to look around me, I really flung my rod away and vowed it a sin to forget for a moment, in the rapture of angling, the glories of the place I was in. That this enthusiasm did not last long it is needless to say; like the philosopher who throws away his money as vile dross, and, immediately repenting, stoops to pick up the coin, I resumed my rod, and my indifference to everything but fish returned. From Dale, by land to Dalseidet is but five or six TROOL TN NORA AY: 13 miles, then comes a like distance on the fiord, then carrioles again, and once more a trip by water terminating at Evanger, which we reach by two o'clock. Here is an excellent station where you can get capital food. At the very door of the house, a large river, which for some miles has flowed through dark pinewoods, rolls into the fiord, and here at the mouth of the rapid river, we tried, from a boat which the rowers could with difficulty keep in the stream, to spin a minnow for salmon; but the bottom was the only thing my friend or I caught. We had not time to try further up the river, but Evanger would unquestionably be a fine place to stay in for a few days. From Evanger a twelve miles stage takes you to Vossevangen, where is a magnificent station by the side of a fine lake, the hills around which are topped by snow that never melts. This place is midway between the two great fiords Hardanger and Sogne, and we are now on our way to the latter. Our host comes into the dining room while we are taking our evening meal, with a string of twenty or more small trout, four or five ounces in weight, which he said it had taken him an hour to catch; but I should not advise anyone who goes to Norway for fishing to stay at Vossevangen, however tempting the house and the fare may be. In our case we had no intention of staying, and an hour or two on the river next morning from about five o'clock, settled us in our determination to move on. Still we lingered about the place rather longer than was necessary, and it was near mid-day when we got our cart. The first station is Tvinde, where is a magnificent fall four or five hundred feet high; here we had a long delay 14 ANGLERS EVENINGS. before getting a horse, and it was four or five o'clock before we got away again. After a drive of a couple of miles, the road began to skirt a charming river. The result may be easily imagined. The angling itch begins to make itself felt, and presently we can stand it no longer, but bribe the boy to pull up, while we see what the stream affords. In-a short time I had four trout, then two at once, and by the time we got sight of Vinje, perched on the hill three miles away (the place we had made our destination in consequence of the attractions of fishing), I had twenty. Now, we were bya pool which I declined to leave, though it was beginning to darken and my friend wanted to get on; so he agreed to take on the traps while I finished my fishing. I could then walk on to the station. The fish I took were not large, but I saw one rise constantly, just beyond my throw, which was larger than his fellows, and I determined to have him. As I threw towards him, my fly was taken once more, but not by my fish; then another trout comes in, but mine is still bobbing about there, sucking in every- thing that comes near him. After many tries I venture to advance an inch or two, pulling up my wading stockings with my left hand so as to keep the water, which is nearly on a level with the tops, from giving me that delightful foot-bath which most fishermen have expe- rienced. Once more I throw with all my force, and this time am rewarded, my trout has taken his last rise and is now madly rushing about the deep pool, in vigorous but fruitless rage. Soon he is on the bank, a nice trout LROU LIN NORWAY, 15 of three-quarters of a pound, not a large one certainly, but his capture was vastly interesting. I gave the lad a dozen fish as he came back, and carried home thirty-two. During the evening I got two together, twice over. Vinje we found to be a wretched place, beautiful as is its situation. The station is a dirty little hovel with two rooms only, the upper one reached by a ladder from the bare ground, which is the kitchen floor. There was nothing in the house to eat, and no milk to drink, so we had to go to bed supperless. The beds were merely boxes of straw covered by a blanket and a sheet, but I never slept a sweeter sleep than there. As soon as we awoke we began to think of breakfast, and I went down our ladder to see what was stirring. The fire was burning on a sort of stithy, like a blacksmith’s but somewhat lower; there were no bars, and a big iron pot was sus- pended from the chimney, containing a teapot—this is the way they brew their tea. Another pan was on the fire with milk in it (we had sent a lad up to the mountains to buy us some), and the old woman and her daughter were devouring one of our fish which had been fried in a third pan. They were busily at work, both eating off the same plate and without the aid of spoon, fork, or knife. We are told that fingers were made before forks, and these two were evidently in a pre-fork age, diving their fingers into the dish as occasion required. When I stepped off the ladder the woman left her feeding and taking hold of the frying pan, in which the fish were spluttering, turned them over with a wooden spoon. Then, finding the spoon rather dirty, she licked it clean and imme- 16 ANGLE RS EVENINGS. diately popped it into our milk to ascertain if the latter was sufficiently hot. I had seen enough of the culinary business by this time, and returned up the ladder a sadder and a wiser man. The day was thoroughly wet and we had a long journey before us, so as soon as we could we left the sweet place. The first station is Stalheim, just beyond which is a marvellous cork-screw road, between two fine waterfalls which would delight our good president’s eyes to see. From the foot of this road a fine level way runs by the side of a small river to Gudvangen, where is a capital station and scenery of the most romantic character possible. Right opposite the station, perhaps a mile distant, is the Keelfos, a fall 2,000 feet high ; and on both sides of the fiord, at the head of which we now are, the cliffs are from this to 5,000 feet. From Gudvangen to Lzrdala little steamer generally runs, during the summer season, once or twice a week ; but for some reason it was not running at the time of our visit. We were aware of this, and had arranged with two shipmates whom we saw on the road the previous day, to take arow-boat together as far as Frénningen, where we could meet the large fiord steamer. We dined together in the excellent station at Gudvangen, and learned from our host that there was no hope of obtaining food at Frénningen, there being only one house there, and that a gentleman’s residence, the owner a very inhospitable fellow who hated tourists and had refused shelter even to ladies ina storm. The journey would take us some six hours, but as we should get food on the steamer we » FROOULIN NORWA Y. 17 could manage without provisions till then. It was raining heavily as we started away; the clouds hung in great heavy masses on the hills, blocking out all prospect, and we were altogether dispirited at the journey before us. Just as we were “shoving off,” our landlord came running down to say a gentleman who had just arrived wished to ask if he might go with us; our boat was full, but he would sit in the bow and would be greatly obliged if we would take him in. Of course we agreed, and a large Norwegian gentleman in ponderous mackintoshes made us a bow and stepped on board. He, like ourselves, was out of spirits and sat silent for some time; but after a while the sun shot out as rapidly as the gas is turned up at the pantomime, and with the same effect on the performers. Our four rowers held up their heads and put more power into their strokes ; our new friend shook himself clear of his mackintoshes and addressed some playful remarks to us which we did not understand ; all our English tongues became loosened, and we were able to turn our eyes to the glorious scenery we were slowly passing through. It would be idle to attempt to describe this portion of the marvellous fiord. No painter ever depicted it—no panorama could ever hold it. By your side the rocks, towering up now 2,000 now 5,000 feet, go straight into the water which, within a yard of them, would float the largest ship in the world; over on the other side it is the same. Yet, steep as the precipices are, they are not bare rocks, for scanty trees and herbage clothe them wherever a cranny offers support for a root; nay, on the ledges where the eye can see no sign, we are told 18 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. that human dwelling-places are built, though there is only one break-neck path, and that down to the fiord, from which the wretched inhabitants draw their only means of subsistence. Now and then you get at the foot of the cliffs, a field or two, where the stream which usually tumbles over the rocks straight into the fiord, has made itself a channel; here you will always find dwellings and probably a plain whitewashed church. But for these occasional signs of man, the place is “as God made it” and such a place as no one can pass through unmoved. Our rowers kept steadily on, only once stopping to take some bread and cheese, and an hour before the steamer was due, put._us on the little landing stage at Frénningen. By this time we were good friends with the last comer, and, between Norwegian and German, got on pretty well with him in the matter of talk. We had nothing to do, and our hour hung heavily, but at last eight o’clock came and we got ready for the steamer; then a man appeared who said it would not come yet—it must be late. Soon it became dark and cold and we were sick of our position. Some of us tried to go to sleep on the logs, others tried running races along the narrow planks, but darkness put an end to the sport and all became thoroughly miserable once more. At last a servant girl came down from the house we had long been _ casting longing looks towards, and an Englishman sug- gested to our Norwegian friend that he should try and get her to bring us some hot coffee. He agreed to help us and accosted the damsel. She departed and returned, but without the coffee. Again our friend addressed her, TROUT IN NORWAY. 19 and again she returned to the house. Once more we heard her coming after a long absence, and this time, what a reward for our waiting! we were invited into the house. As we entered, we were received by a young lady, who apologised for the absence of her father ; but when we saw the table, we thought it as well that the cur- mudgeon we had been warned against should be away. On a dark, polished board were spread all the delicacies that a substantial Norwegian house affords—dried meats and fish, sausages of various sizes and hues, fruits, fresh and dried, wines, and beer. Clearly we had fallen on our feet this time. At the pleasant sight every eye twinkled and we quickly settled into the places our kind hostess bade us occupy. Every plate was filled, every glass charged—but, as the first mouthful was impaled on our forks there came a hurried footstep on the wooden stairs, and a grating voice bawled in at the open door “Dampen er kom!” (the steamer is here). These words suggested a particular form of blessing on the interrupter of the feast, which I fear rose to every lip though polite- ness kept all silent. There was no help for it; we must go as hungry as we came, and we quitted our Tantalian feast with the best grace we could assume. In miserable plight, and in single file. we marched disconsolate away. Our good hostess gave her hand to each as we left, and received our “tousand tak” with sorrowful eyes, though methought that the comicality of the scene half provoked a smile to her lips, and when the last of us disappeared I doubt not that she burst out, as did we all, into peals of merriment. Our jolly friend, to whom we had nearly 20 ANGLERS EVENINGS. owed so much, screamed in his laughter as we walked down the dark way to our old quarters, and, victims as we were, every one of us joined in the fun as heartily as though we were amused at someone else’s expense. From the little pier we rowed out into the fiord and wafted a large lantern to attract attention. Then the steamer came up looking immense in the dark distance. On board we finished our interrupted meal, and after a sail of a couple of hours were landed at Lerdal. As we neared the end of our journey and again reached a town, we found the portrait of our stout friend in every shop window and learned that he was Bjérnsen, the foremost man of letters in the country. This ex- plained the whole of the Frénningen mystery. When we asked him to beg the coffee he no doubt also com- municated his name which had the “ open sesame’ effect I have recorded. Lzrdal introduces us to a new district, a new class of scenery, and better fishing. And here, if you please, we will rest ; it is a fitting place at which we may break our journey, and when we continue it, I will promise you that we will get more trout than we have so far succeeded in catching. PART VIL—LARDAL FO, CERISTIANIZE Lzrdal is a considerable village at the extremity of the fiord, with three hotels, too popular and populous a place for one in search of an angler’s “sweet retirement,” and as soon as practicable after our arrival, our little TROUT IN NOR WA F¥. 21 cavalcade of two moved out again into the open, towards Haeg, some two or three stations distant. The road traverses what may be termed a pass, of great beauty, through which flows a river, which has to a fisher attractions almost equal to the beauteous landscape itself. Such a stream is not to be found out of Norway. Its water is as absolute pure, and gleams with colour as bright, as the sky above it; the average width of the stream is some forty or fifty yards, now flowing in deep unbroken current, now constricted by huge rocks to only a dozen yards or so, and rushing through its channel ina bounding mass almost sufficient to rive the very rocks themselves, then dashed in its uneasy bed by a thousand rocks and boulders, it urges on for a couple of miles, with a roar that will allow you to hear nothing else when you are anywhere near it. By this glorious river runs the road, all the way from Lerdal to Haeg, at one time perched far above it, at another sinking down almost to its level. Where the road is highest, and where a shy from your horse would plunge you over a perpendicular cliff into the roaring waters beneath, your protection from the edge is nota solid wall, but some big stones placed at the edge of the road, a yard apart. Here, your stiff little horse, which rejoices in the situation, is sure to set off at full gallop, and to stay not till he reaches level ground at the foot of the road’s declivity, or is pulled up by the next rise. The interest of the situation is even increased by the manner in which your horse is harnessed to the carriole; it is done in such a manner that the breaking of a peg, about as strong as a common 22 ANGLERS'’ EVENINGS. clothes peg, would upset the whole conveyance, free the quadruped from its encumbrance, and hurl you to destruction. As we go along by portions of the river where angling seems practicable, we make enquiry from our boy as to whether we should be allowed to fish there, but are met with an unintelligible sentence in which the word “Smith” inevitably appears. After many tries, we discover that Mr. Smith owns all the fishing hereabouts, but being unable to use to his own rod more than a fiftieth part of it, he is specially careful to keep the whole to himself. See, there on the other side, is Madame Smith, the great man’s wife, fishing away like a man; and after a time, we meet an Englishman, with a salmon rod over his shoulder, whom we take to be the greedy Smith himself, and who gives us much inward satisfaction by informing us that he has found the fishing very bad this year. Midway between the second and third stations is a little village, Seeltun, where the river is owned for half a mile or so by a native farmer. This length breaks up Mr. Smith’s preserve, which is both above and below the village. The farmer is not far to seek ; there is a red nightcap by the river side, bobbing about the rocks, which is probably his. As we go down towards the red beacon to enquire, we find the wearer of it busily engaged in the capture of fish—I must not call it fishing. He is stationed over a small but deep pool, a sort of by-wash from the foaming, roaring torrent which the river here is, and being protected by rocks which break the strength of the current, there is a nice quiet eddy, where the TROUT IN NORWAY. 23 salmon, wearied with their boisterous passage up the broken waters, come in to take a rest. Here the red- capped wizened old farmer waits, and as he sees a salmon enter (the water is clear enough to see to any depth), he lowers a great four-barbed fork on a staff twelve feet long, as far as he thinks safe, then gives an awful prod, you see the shaft furiously shaken from below, and up comes a salmon which the farmer immediately offers to sell you for a “specie.” In Norway I have always found that when anything is said to you which you do not wish to entertain, the best way is not to understand it; this is on the same principle that it is sometimes well to be afflicted with deafness, as you are then enabled to refuse to hear applications for subscriptions, and other unpleasant things. So I did not understand what the old man meant when he offered to sell me his fish, for I did not want it. However, he heaped coals of fire on my head by offering to let me fish as much as I liked in his part of the river; he even went with me while I fished, and asked me to share his meal when the time for feeding came. Oh, that Mr. Smith could know this! At dinner he sat at one side of the table and I at the other, and both helped ourselves from the same dish, which contained a salmon all mushed and jammed together as though it had been prepared with a “peggy,” in a “peggy- tub.” The wife who was no less hospitable than her husband, pointed out with her finger, the curd which one only sees in fresh caught salmon, as the tit-bits of the dish. Then I had some drink brought, of a bright canary colour, and had to pretend to drink some, but being a. 24 ANGLERS EVENINGS. teetotaller I was afraid to take a gulp. If the old fellow would only have turned his head for a minute, I would have slapped the stuff out of the window, and made-believe that I had drunk it, but he was too polite for that, and I had to explain as well as I could that I did not quite like it. Between this and Haeg the river is a perfect marvel of beauty, and one succession of delights to an angler. On the occasion of my first visit—this meeting with Mr. Red-cap occurred on the second—we made out from our boy, that a mile or so above Szltun, where the river stretches out into a wide and gently flowing stream for some four hundred yards, we might defy Mr. Smith, and fish away. The lad seemed to know nothing about trout, as far as we could understand, but assured us that “lax,” z.é. salmon, would be caught of great size, for he imme- diately held out his right arm to the full extent, and placed his left hand on the top of the shoulder, to show what we might expect. This set us all (there were three of us) ablaze, and we immediately offered the lad a “mark” to stop and tend the horses while we caught some “lax.” The bribe (104d.) was sufficient; we bounded from the carrioles and immediately began to put our rods together. My friends, less ambitious than I, put up trout rods, and used smallish flies, but I, anxious alike to try a new rod and to catch a salmon, took out my largest rod and a gaudy yellow fly, about the size of a canary. Before I had fished five minutes I got a trout of a pound weight on this huge fly, and then I fished for some time without success, but whenever I turned my head towards TROUT IN NORWAY. 25 my friends, I found them engaged with trout, so that after half an hour, I could stand it no longer, abandoned my brand-new salmon rod, and took to my faithful, single-handed trouter. My time had come now, and as long as we stayed—it was eight o'clock in the evening when we commenced—I caught trout of about half a pound weight nearly as fast as I could land them. We were obliged to leave in the height of our success, for our lad had become impatient, and though the light held out, as it would all night, it was getting late. Each with a nicely stocked basket, we mounted our carrioles once more, and with the lightest of hearts drove on to Husum, the next station, where we stayed the night. There is a capital house here, and the people, who were in bed when we arrived, made no demur at getting up and cooking usa meal. In the morning we found the river much too rough to fish ; there is not smooth water enough at Husum even to have a bath in, and our morning tub was taken only knee-deep with the crystal waters swirling around our legs. We sadly wished to go back to our last night’s ground, but prudence overcame our desire and we went onward, towards Haeg. Midway between the two stations, near an old blackened wooden church, of most extraordi- nary and interesting construction, and said to be a thousand years old (the famous Borgund old Church), the river is a sweetly rippling stream of forty yards breadth, with pools and streams and scours in perfection. Here we alighted, and sent our traps on by the lad. Our rods had not been taken down from the last night, so immediately 26 ANGEERS, BVENTNGS. we were in the river, and immediately taking half-pound trout. That day is marked in my memory with a white stone; soon I had two great ones on—an event that often happened afterwards—but I only landed one. Before noon came, my basket was quite full of the brightest, cleanest, handsomest, and noblest trout the eye ever looked upon. Then a child from a little wooden cottage by the stream, whom I disturbed at her play, runs away from the stranger, but is coaxed back by the offer of a fish, and I gladly empty my pannier into her little apron, and under a load as heavy as she can bear, she struts back home. There is a fine deep pool here, about which I linger for some time, and soon comes back my little maiden, with a dish of wild strawberries in return for the fish. A little further on towards Haeg the stream widens out into a lake, by the side of which we walk, chatting over our successes, until we reach the river again, and from this, almost every foot, for four or five miles, may be fished. Once more I empty my creel, this time toa native who speaks English, having been in California, and for the rest of the day he bears us company carrying and using my landing-net. I gave up fishing before I reached Haeg, for I was carrying my third basketful and we were all hungry. Our new-found companion told us he could take us where the fish were larger than here, and we agreed that after dinner we would set off with him for Breistél, high up in the mountains, which we did at about ten o'clock p.m., arriving there at half-past two. We had no darkness, but a gentle twilight with a ruddy orange TROUT IN NORWAY. 27 coloured sky overhead for about two hours, and long before we reached our destination it was broad daylight. The good people of Breistél, like those of Husum, made no demur at getting up and making us some coffee, indeed, everywhere when we came in at the small hours, as we often did, there was the greatest readiness to oblige us. Norway is not a land to lie abed in, and by six o'clock I walked down to the river for my bath, rod in hand. Before returning to the house I got two fish, one three- quarters, and the other one and a half pounds weight, and immediately after breakfast one of two pounds, and then I rose one which I had seen playing about in the middle of the pool; this was a good one, and my line flew out merrily, but only to come away again, as soon as the fish stopped running. Thinking to come to him again, I left him alone and went higher up the stream, but one of my friends following an hour after, got a rise from me and the fish at the same time, and killed my trout, a magnificent fellow of two and three-quarters pounds. During the day I was accompanied by our pilot, the Californian, who again used the landing-net for me. Perhaps his English may be taken as a specimen of the current language of California, it was full of oaths and foul expletives, which were uttered with the con- viction that they were in perfect good manners. The result was rather peculiar, and after the novelty of the thing wore off, decidedly unpleasant. We were here in quite another climate from yesterday, the snow was all around us on the bare hills, and the water 28 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. of the river icy cold. The weather was hot, so hot that I took a plunge during the morning into a lake from which the river flows; but a very few strokes satisfied me. In the middle of the day, when we met together for lunch, my basket would not hold another fish, and I had left my large ones behind. In all I had eighteen trout, and the average weight was thirteen and a half ounces. The afternoon added only three or four fish to the number, the trout refusing to rise as it grew colder. My friends had not the same fortune as I had, but the united baskets were quite large enough to satisfy reasonable mortals. At eleven o'clock at night we got back to delightful Haeg, situated among towering hills and falling waters, and here, had we been wise, we should have spent all the time that our journey over to Christiania allowed us. There is no place along the route I am endeavouring to describe that will repay the fisherman so well as this, where the river is so admirably suited to his requirements, and where the quarters are so good and so cheap. As an illustration of the latter quality I will give my first experience of the place. Wearrived, as I have mentioned, in the evening, and had a meal, then drove to Breistdl, and slept a night on the hill top, returning to Haeg the following night, where we took another meal, slept there, had breakfast, and paid one mark, that is, 103d. each. But prices are higher now in Norway, as elsewhere, than they were, and 10:d. will not go so far as it did:,;Stillat is cheap enough, and if what I have mentioned costs you half a crown, you may pass on and be thankful. The river immediately behind the Haeg station LROUL IN NORWAY. 29 widens out into a large pool, several hundred yards long, and fifty or sixty wide. At the head, a considerable fall tumbles over the rocks in dazzling foam, and for a long distance the water is charged almost like soda water, with bubbles of air. Here, on the morning after our second arrival, we took our bath. The pool might have been made for the purpose; at its margin, ten yards behind the house, is a sloping rock, going straight down into deep water, where you may take your header from any height you please, and a few yards below is a little beach where you can walk pleasantly out. A plunge into the soda water, and you soon find that it will be well not to get far out into the current, for even here you rapidly drift downwards, and the broken waters are not far off. After such a luxurious bath as one who loves the water, as an angler should, can never forget, we land at our little beach and lazily commence dressing. What is the luxury of wszdress? Where is the pleasure in lolling on rocks, unbooted, and clothed only in trousers and_ shirt? Luxury indeed it is; there is a feeling of liberty about it, a freedom from the commonest restraint of our lives, that is delicious, and makes us linger and linger. As we lie steeping in the warm sunlight, or sit negligently chatting on the good fortune which has brought us here, what is it that we sce dimpling the surface of the water, where a few moments ago we, like so many grampuses, were rolling and plunging? Trout, of course! Fetch the rod; it is there in the house, only a dozen yards away, all ready for use. A cast of the flies goes over the charmed circle; at the first throw a brilliant half-pounder is fast, and in a 30 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. minute or two, beautiful still in death, is lying on the grass, Perhaps there is another. Out go the flies again, and after two or three casts we have a brace towards breakfast, and by a quarter of an hour has passed, another brace to it. This, too, before we are dressed! Where else is fishing like this? Our Breistél trout came in very opportunely ; a family of English people we met here were delighted to have a basketful, and the people of the house were nothing unwilling. I have sometimes thought that the 103d. paid for our lodging must have been the amount they made us debtors, after giving us credit for the fish we left them. From Haeg, the road is a steady ascent to Nystuen, where the summit of the hill (the Fille Fjeld), 3,500 feet high, is reached. As we have got higher we have several times seen a curious animal, the lemming, which is not unlike a little guinea pig, and which the natives regard with great aversion. It comes in swarms from the far north, only once in three or four years, and the creatures spread themselves over the high grounds of the south. They travel, it is said, in a straight line, turning neither to right nor left, and establish themselves so rapidly and simultaneously over a district, that the country people say they come from the clouds, and I was gravely assured by a strapping fellow we engaged at Nystuen that this was the case. The lemming seems quite inoffensive, though it barks like a little dog when you assault it, and for this reasonthe Norwegian name for it is “lom-hund,” or “pocket dog.” From Nystuen we descend to Skogstad, and then proceed to Tune, reaching the latter at dark ; it isa black TROGOT IN NORWAY. 31 dismal looking place at night, almost enough to make you afraid. Close by the road-side is a grand lake, called the Little Mjésen, which gleams with a terrible aspect in the almost total darkness. It has grown cold too, and we are glad as we enter the courtyard, to see the glare of a fire. The station is like most of them. There is a large room with bare board floor, bare rafters, and bare board walls. The furniture consists of two beds, two chairs,a rough table, a dark wooden clothes-press, and a diminutive washing place. But if this simplicity is any disadvantage (and far from that, I look upon it as the greatest addition to enjoyment), it is soon dispelled by the entrance of the evening meal, and then comes sleep, as peaceful as that of the just. In the morning, as I stroll down to the lake for my bath, how mistaken I find I have been in my impression of the place. What a land it is! How great and good should all those be who live in it! As I return, the words of the Psalmist rise to my mind with a meaning they have never had before :—“ Let the floods clap their hands; let the hills be joyful together.” I accosted a lad on my way back, and asked if he knew the height of the hill over there. “Jeg veed ikke,” “I know not,” he replied, “but perhaps it goes up to heaven.” This was chaff, no doubt, but the truth was never so unwittingly spoken. As I ascend to the station I get the finest view of the scene. The mountains on the other side of the lake, high and precipitous though they be, are no longer gloomy and frowning, but are lit up and gleaming in every shade of purple and gold; bare rocks tower upwards to the clouds, 32 ANGLERS EVENINGS. dark precipitous woods slope down to the water's edge, and here and there a glittering white “ fosse,” bred of the snows above, pitches over the precipice, or roars down the abyss. On our side of the lake, the road skirts the water as far as I can see, no great distance, for a bend in the lake appears to bring it to a sudden termination, and to enclose the landscape in a vast amphitheatre of loneliness. The landlord of the station at Tune, who is a member of the Storthing, sadly wanted us to stay, telling us of big fish to be got up the mountains, and even saying that bears were to be shot in his fields ; but like the wandering Jew, we must goon. A gentleman whom we met after- wards some distance further on, told us that the hope of killing a bear induced him to stay at Tune, and he waited out all one night in the hopes of getting one, but he only succeeded in frightening himself almost to death, lest the bear should come and eat him instead of a carcase, which the brute was said to have killed, and which he would be sure to return to devour. The next stage is to Oylo, the road for a long way runs close to the lake, and the journey is one of the most beautiful of the land stages we have travelled; next came Stee, which we did not reach till afternoon, and being rather lazily inclined we decided to stay the night at. The place, like Tune, is near a lake, into which a river runs, about a mile and a half away. We found a rickety boat not far off, and at about seven o'clock rowed over to the river to fish it. By ten o’clock, when we stopped, we had each a dozen fish of half a pound and over. EROGT IN NORWAY. 33 The next journey was to Fagernces, only a short day again; we reached it at four in the afternoon, and for the first time since we landed in the country, had dinner. The station, or hotel it now is, is a very excellent, and after some of the rough quarters we had been in, luxurious one, but the place is the head-quarters of the flies and mosquitoes of the country. Here they come in their thousands. It is the only disadvantage of the place. But there are advantages to outbalance the plague of flies. The station is again on the margin of a fine lake, sur- rounded by hills clad from summit to water’s edge with fir and birch, a delightful mixture of verdure. A fine river flows into the lake half a mile away, and the fishing is said to be excellent, though, I must confess that on my two visits I have not found the trout in the humour. On the evening I am speaking of, I did however get one of two pounds, and a few smaller ones. Next we went on to Frydenlund, where we were informed there was good fishing in one of the two rivers on the far side of the lake, which is one of the same long chain on which Fagernees is situated. The river is some distance away, and we lost much time on the lake before reaching it, so that it was evening again before we were fairly at work. It rained heavily all the time we were out, and I do not consider that, under the uncomfortable state of affairs we encountered, we gave the place a fair trial. Many fish I know I lost through the wet line sticking to the rod and refusing to run out; however, when we stopped I had twenty-five trout, the largest of them a pound, and the average about the usual one of D 34 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. half a pound. This river is very large and seems to be well filled with fish, but my only experience of it is the few hours I have spoken of. A friend who has stayed three days at Frydenlund, tells me that he always did well in the river, getting, with smaller fish, a fair proportion of one and two pounders. , This evening’s fishing was the last I had, and from what I have seen, it is, I should say, the last good fishing on the Fille Fjeld route; the character of the scenery after this entirely changes; you have no more high precipitous rocks, roaring streams, or brilliant falls, the valleys widen out until they are miles across, the hills become lower, the streams gentler. There is plenty of water, but though I tried the river at several places, I got only small fry, and as fish of a similar size is brought to table, I think there are not many large ones to be had. The journey is not yet over, but its interest is in great measure gone. The country we have to pass through for the rest, though beautiful enough, is not to be com- pared to what we have already seen; and, therefore, with all speed we may urge on to Christiania. There is a choice of several routes, each full of attractions. Those I have taken are, first one by the Mjosen Lake, and on the second journey by another lake, the Randsfird. I was singularly fortunate in the time chosen for my journeys. On the first occasion, I arrived in Christiania on the day of the festival of the unification of the kingdom by Harold Harfaager, a thousand years ago. All the town was decorated with flags and banners, all work suspended, all the people in the streets, and at night a display of TROUT IN NORWAY. 35 fireworks was given before the king’s palace, and music and dancing enlivened the public squares. With the history of this festival 1 am not acquainted, but there must bea singular reverence for the past in a people who can celebrate with such rejoicing as we were witness to, an occurrence a thousand years old. I think we should have some difficulty in getting up in England any enthusiasm in honour of the deeds of King Alfred. On the second occasion, when I entered Christiania, by way of the town of Drammen, I found there a most interesting exhibition of all the products of the country, from the North Cape to the Southern point, including minerals, skins, timber, corn, harpoons, and even fish hooks and trout flies. I should mention before closing that from reports I have had from friends who had travelled over the same ground, and also from the experience I have had myself, in the two visits I have made, the trout fishing is somewhat precarious. It is not always so superb, as I found it on my first visit. That visit was made in the month of July, and the season was mild and fine. My second journey was in August, when the weather was much colder, and the fishing very inferior. I found the trout on the second occasion in quite different water to the first, and the spots where I had been most successful yielded few fish. Still I had such sport as I have never met with in England, Wales, or Scotland. Two friends, who, since my visit, at my suggestion, took this Fille Fjeld route in July, reported only indifferently of their success ; one, who is an experienced angler, saying he had only got a few 36 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. trout, and those of no size; and the other, who I fear is no fly-fisher at all, saying he did not think there were any fish in the river, for he never saw any. Still, I can scarcely believe that my friends and I caught the whole of the trout when we were among them, and if another summer I should have it in my power to choose my own holiday ground, I should without hesitation seek the same scene I have endeavoured to introduce to you, and where I had a few days of such fishing as I never had before, and in all probability shall never have again. TERE “AUN GS, J ON. BY W. W. Eeacea| iL misers hoard their yellow store, - Let sailors tempt the raging main, Let soldiers wade the fields of gore, Ambitious prize to gain: Let statesmen plot and courtiers fawn, Give silly sots their wine ; But give to me the rolling stream, The rod, the reel, the line. O, ye who seek in worldly cares, Content or peace of mind, Come learn ye from the angler’s art, The bliss you cannot find. It is not ‘neath the gilded roof, It is not in the hall, Nor is it in your gathered gold, The pleasure sought by all. It is beside the wimpling stream, Within a peaceful glen, Where silent nature tempts to stray Afar from toiling men— 8 ANGLERS EVENINGS. When sailing clouds obstruct the sun, And dripping showers descend, Beside a breezy, haunted pool, Where leafy alders bend, How sweet, with gliding step to steal Along the margent green, Alone, or with a silent friend At gentle distance seen— To drop the fly with skilful hand By stones with moss grown grey, Where, deep beneath, the eager trout Awaits his floating prey. To see, amid the waters brown, His gleaming sides appear, And mark him dart, with many a bound The stinging barb to clear ; But soon the music of the reel, Grows slow, and fainter still, Then tir'd, reluctant to the strand You guide him at your will. Not less the bliss to mark at times, With eye to nature keen, Unnumber’d beauties, all disclosed As shifts the verdant scene :— The water-craw upon her stone, With breast of virgin snow— The heron, from her station scar’d, With flagging wing and slow. Terl WAUN GL ler yf) Ve og To hear the mavis from the shaw Salute his brooding mate, Or view the dimpling flies that play Unheedful of their fate. Wherever strays the willing foot, New scenes and fairer rise ; Where’er we look, to bank or stream, New pleasures meet the eyes. Fair Annan! on thy blooming banks, The summer's day has past, Till evening hush’d the ruddy scene In purple folds to rest— While still I wander’d by thy side, And drank of joys my fill; What joys so pure as those we find Beside a murmuring rill ? TEE MIND “OR AiSHirs: BY F. J. FARADAY, F.L.S. =| SUITABLE introductiontoan inquiry concerning | the mind of fishes, would be a careful account of Locke’s Essay on the Human Understanding, followed by a consideration of the metaphysical investiga- tions of Kant, Hegel, Coleridge, and the other eminent men who have made the nature and qualities of mind the subject of profound contemplation. For, it is self-evident that it would be advisable, if possible, to know thoroughly our own minds before presuming to express opinions concerning the minds of our fellow-creatures. An exhaustive analysis of nervous tissue, with a comparative examination of the ganglia of the various classes of the animal kingdom, and a tabulation of the proportions of brain substance in each order, genus, and species, would likewise seem to be appropriate to the task. A sympathising friend lately suggested that the science of optics ought to contribute much towards the elucidation of the subject. The eye of a fish is a special construction, and the relations of the molecules of water to light are different from those of the uncombined atoms ofair. My friend illustrated the importance of this line iii MIND) OF fl SMES. 41 of inquiry by observing that a noted fisher (a member of this Association) is fully persuaded that a fish sees a fly as a spider—and supposes it to be such. The deep philosophy of this suggestion is apparent; for the question naturally arises, supposing that the fish takes a fly for a spider, what would he take a spider for? The line of speculation thus opened up is absolutely infinite, and it is clear that valuable knowledge of wonderful possibilities would be evolved by diligent thought in this direction. We may reasonably assume that, under the conditions of aquatic life, a fish must see things under a different light from that under which we see them, and hence may have a peculiar series of primary ideas. The pulsations of ether which, we are told, constitute the declining light of the setting sun, and the melodies of the musician all bring thoughts to us, or awaken them in us. But we are conscious only of a small series of the ethereal waves. What are the psychical effects of those vibrations which are imperceptible to humanity, though possibly sensible to other organized beings ? The inquiry need not be restricted to physiological examination and physical speculations. Much might be inferred from facts coming within the range of human observation. The writings of naturalists and anglers from the remotest periods of ancient literature, down to these modern days, would probably furnish many anecdotes of the manifestation of intelligence by the denizens of the watery world which would belong to the border domains where analogies between their experiences and mental processes, and our own, might be perceived. Such a 42 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. search would doubtless modify our prejudices, and might even yield a rich and surprising mass of testimony, but probably its most important result would be to show us how restricted after all is our scope of observation. Little must be our knowledge regarding the life-history of creatures dwelling in a portion of the world very much larger in extent than that occupied by terrestrial organisms. But an attempt to pursue these various branches of ° the subject, with patience and diligence, would be unsuit- able to the present occasion. I shall, therefore, restrict myself to a few general reflections attributable to the period when I officiated as curator of the Manchester Aquarium. These may serve to elicit more important contributions to the science of the subject from anglers. For a pursuit so essentially observant, and affording such breadth of opportunity for cogitation, as is that of the angler, should be productive of considerable acquaintance with the phenomena of ichthyological psychology. It is perhaps not an exaggerated statement that there exists a stronger tendency to reject the idea of mind in regard to fishes, than in regard to anyother living creatures. One gentleman, to whom I have mentioned my theme, has taken it for granted that I shall merely endeavour to pro- duce a treatise in the vein of Charles Lamb's celebrated Essay on Roast Pig; while another has candidly expressed his belief that the notion of intelligence in the scaly tribe can only be associated with mental abberation in the human subject. This prejudice has found proverbial expression. Thus, when a man is known by his friends to be exces- sively partial to alcoholic recreation, he is sometimes said THE MIND. OF FISHES. 43 ‘to “drink like a fish,’ a comparison suggesting that a fish is rather given tosensual indulgence than to intellectual pursuits. Again, if a man’s eyes have the lack-lustre appearance which is often believed to indicate stupidity, he is said to have “the eye of a fish ;? and when an-honest attorney has in hand a case which contains too much principle and too little law, he speaks of it in confidence, and in a derogatory sense—as being “rather fishy.” But if proverbial phrases often owe their currency to their innate truth, do they not also often merely prove the subservience of human intelligence to unreasoning wit? The philosophic angler is free from vulgar prejudices; his mind is not trammelled by hasty assumptions. The patient disposition which the experience of many hours spent in watching the shadows on the water generates, and the knowledge of the frequent astuteness of his prey, tend to preserve him from conclusions which, in the minds of the many, are essentially dogmatic, and are, therefore, not tolerable in good society. It may be contended that the voice of authority is on the same side as prejudice in this case; and of this I fear there can be no doubt. The great Cuvier places fishes very low down in the scale of vertebrate intelligences. He says of them :— “Breathing by the medium of water, that is to say, only profiting by the small quantity of oxygen contained in the air mixed with the water, their blood remains cold; their vitality, the energy of their senses and movements, are léss than in mammalia and birds. Thus their brain, although similar in composition, is proportionally much smaller, and their external organs of sense not calculated to impress upon it powerful sensa- tions. Fishes are, in fact, of all the vertebrata, those which give the least 44 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. apparent evidence of sensibility. Having no elastic air at their disposal, they are dumb, or nearly so, and to all the sentiments which voice awakens or entertains, they are strangers. Their eyes are, as it were, motionless, their faces bony and fixed, their limbs incapable of flexion, and moving as one piece, leaving no play to their physiognomy, no expression to their feelings» Their ears, enclosed entirely in the cranium, without external concha, or internal cochlea, composed only of some sacs and membraneous canals, can hardly suffice to distinguish the most striking sounds, and, more- over, they have little use for the sense of hearing, condemned to live in the empire of silence, where everything around is mute. Even their sight in the depths which they frequent could have little exercise, if most of them had not, in the size of their eyes, a means of compensation for the feebleness of the light ; but even in these the eye hardly changes its direction, still less by altering its dimensions can it accommodate itself to the distance of objects. The iris never dilates or contracts, and the pupil remains the same in all intensities of illumination. No tear ever waters the eye—no eyelid wipes or protects it-—it is in the fish but a feeble representative of this organ, so beautiful, so lively, and so animated in the higher classes of animals,” This, with more to the same effect respecting the other senses with which we are endowed, constitutes a strong case against the fish ; and it is becoming that we should bow-with reverence to the opinions of the great Cuvier. Nevertheless, a few suggestions on the other side will be harmless, and may have a temporary interest and utility. We do not sufficiently consider how very little we know of the modes of communication between fish, or of the forms of their external impressions and the manner in which these are received. Having had no experience of what living in the water is like, are we not rather hasty in our estimates of what a fish can, and does, think? Per- sons who have been rescued from drowning have told us that the mental consequences of prolonged immersion are me MIND OF FISHES. 45 very peculiar; the memory appears to be wonderfully quickened, and the rapidity of thought is so great, that every past incident of a man’s life is vividly realised in a moment. May we not accept this as an illustration of the fact that there ave peculiarities? The vision ofa fish, moreover, must be very remarkable. It was long supposed that a fish could not hear; there is the old rhyme, “ Tf a fish could hear as well as see, Never a fisher would there be.” But there is considerable evidence against the supposition that a fish cannot hear. Carp and other species have been taught to come for their food at the sound of a bell or a whistle, and I find in the Angler tn Wales, by Thomas Medwin, an account given of fishing on the Ganges, where the Hindoo is actually said to attract fish to his net by means of amusicalinstrument. In his Harvest of the Sea, Mr. Bertram says that the oyster-dredgers at Cockenzie keep up a wild monotonous song while the dredging is being carried on, believing that it charms the oysters into the dredge :— *¢ The herring loves the merry moonlight, The mackerel loves the wind ; But the oyster loves the dredger’s song, For he comes of a gentle kind.” My own observations do not confirm their assumed ability to hear. I have often tried to attract the attention of fish in the Aquarium by tapping on the glass, or striking the framework of the tanks in which they were confined, but almost invariably without success ; and even when there 49 ANGLERS EVENINGS. has been an appearance of success, it has always been doubtful whether the fish have not seen my moving hand and thus been influenced by vision rather than by hearing. A noiseless wave of the hand has caused shoals of a hundred or more to wheel with the regularity of a column of infantry, but with far greater promptitude, the motion being to my dull perception simultaneous. Dr. Carpenter describes the ear of the fish as being moderately developed and containing some curious little bones, technically called otoliths. As the processes by which the fish obtains and communicates ideas appear to differ materially from our own, may we not imagine the possibility of his having abstract conceptions of a some~ what different character from those which are the basis of our rationality ? Is it possible that he has somewhat different mathematical axioms, for instance, from those which are intuitive with us? Is he acquainted with space of four or more dimensions ? We cannot realise how a fish can talk; the notion of conversation in the water seems ridiculous. But the fish clearly does communicate with his fellows in some way which, however different from conversation as we under- stand it, practically serves the same purpose. Fishers of perch know that there is an end to their sport if they allow one to escape from the hook. Ifa perch be drawn smartly out of his native element every member of a party may be successively captured, innocent of evil and led on by an inquiring disposition (which surely is an indication of intelligence), each fish follows his vanished * companions and falls a victim to his love of knowledge. THE MIND OF LISIES. 47 Not so, should one of the captives return to his companions. By some means he makes his experiences known, and the others, without any positive knowledge of their own, realise the importance of his abstract infor- mation, and disappear from the scene. We require for the communication of ovr ideas a grammatical language ; the fish communicates intelligence without the aid of language. Clearly the phenomenon indicates some process which, for want of more accurate knowledge, we may provisionally say is included in the domain of mind, but which appears to lie outside our powers. It is difficult, if not impossible, to define that which is simply different from anything which we have experienced. We are also predisposed to estimate all powers by our own powers, and to deny the possibility of anything which does not appear to be mentally comprehensible by us. But philosophers are now earnestly inculcating the doctrine that we must assume that much which appears irrational, is not necessarily opposed to reason, but merely transcends the axioms which at present constitute our reason. We are actually conscious of ideas which seem to represent undeniable realities, and which yet involve an impossible contradiction, and are in fact unthinkable. Our mental organization cannot realise space as having an end, because we immediately ask what is beyond the end? On the other hand we cannot realise the notion of space without an end; we talk about it, but it has no real meaning to us. The mathematicians find that they have to deal with what they are obliged to ¢all “imaginaries,” Commenting on the apparently contra- 48 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. dictory results sometimes attained, Dr. Spottiswoode says :— ‘*Suppose that we are gravely told that all circles pass through the same two imaginary points at an infinite distance, and that every line drawn through one of these points is perpendicular to itself. On hearing the statement we shall probably whisper, with a smile or a sigh, that we hope it is not true ; but that in any case it is a long way off, and perhaps, after all, it does not very much signify * * * * Omitting details as unsuited to the present occasion, it will, I think, be sufficient to point out in general terms that a solution of the difficulty is to be found in the fact that the formulz which give rise to these results are more comprehensive than the signification assigned to them; and when we pass out of the condition of things first contemplated, they cannot (as it is obvious that they ought not) give us any results intelligible on that basis. But it does not, ~ therefore, by any means follow that upon a more enlarged basis the formulz are incapable of interpretation ; on the contrary, the difficulty at which we have arrived indicates that there must be some more comprehensive statement of the problem which will include cases impossible in the more limited, but possible in the wider view of the subject.” I venture to submit that in regard to the phenomena of intelligence in the lower animals, it is possible that we require an enlarged basis, a more comprehensive interpre- tation of the formulz we use. Those profound observers, the Ancients, had a way of getting out of difficulties of this kind by provisionally relegating them to the super- natural. The origin of such a doctrine as that of the transmigration of souls may be fairly held to indicate their recognition of the inadequacy of the significations attached to their formule, and at the same time their wondering consciousness of the association of manifesta- tions of intelligence with the most varied forms of life. But let us descend from these transcendental consi- derations and direct our attention for a little to some of PE MIND OF FL SITES: 49 the evidences of mind in the fish according to our narrow conceptions of the formule, and the restricted area of our experience. Inthe average human mind the notion of water has in it something opposed to the idea of quick- ness of intellect. It is undeniable that outside this Asso- ciation, the water-drinker is regarded as one whose mental development takes place under unfavourable conditions, and whose ideas partake rather of the nature of instinct than of that fresh originality, that expansiveness, which characterise the mental calibre supposed to be associated with a right appreciation of the juice of the grape. The notion of dilution is opposed to that of force; the idea of clamminess to that of vitality ; and the feeling of external dampness to that freedom from irritability, and good- natured temperament which are most congenial to the healthy exercise of the mind. Many persons who came to see the fish at the Aquarium expressed their disappoint- ment at the apparent insipidity of the exhibition, by likening the excursion to a visit to see scales and cold water. Such reports were very unjust to the fish. For my part I learned to look upon the odd thousands who inhabited the tanks with something of a brother’s eye. Possibly the feeling that the only difference between me and the others, was the fact that I usually had the biggest tank to myself, quickened my appreciation. There is nothing like similar experiences for promoting sympathy and mutual understanding. The season was one of the most rainy for many years past; the tanks round about me were always leaking, and the floor and the atmosphere had a cellar-like humidity. Moreover, there was no E 50 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. prospect but liquidation ahead. But if it be considered that in regard to the subject of the present discussion these conditions, by approximating the tone of my mind to the mental temperature of the fish, tended to exag- gerate my esteem for them, it must also be remembered that the fish had compensating disadvantages. I conceive that the tanks must have been found by them vastly inferior to the deep-blue sea, or the willow-fringed, mossy- cushioned, and ranunculus or lily-dotted stream. No doubt this had a depressing effect upon the fish; they often looked as though they were attending their own funerals. They were seen under lugubrious circumstances, and must sometimes have found it difficult to keep up their spirits. Still, they seemed to me to succeed won- derfully well, and greatly increased my opinion of their strength of mind. Decided evidences of memory were displayed ; for at four o’clock in the afternoon, when hungry, they collected about the surface of the tanks waiting for the hand that fed them. They had no watches, and their appetites varied according to other conditions ; but when they were hungry they did not forget that four o’clock or thereabouts would bring food, nor did they forget whence it would come. They were not always fed at four o'clock; for various reasons irregularities occurred; but the fish kept their appointments with the keepers. I have seen fish full of fun and laughing, not with the mouth and lips, but with that most kindly and intelligent of all laughter, the laughter of eyes which twinkled with overflowing frolic- someness, I have seen a crab caress his lady-love and TPE MIND OP PSHE S. 51 with the quickness of thought deal a fierce blow at an approaching rival with the same nipper. I submit that such promptitude of application to totally different pur- poses indicates precision of idea, freedom from confusion, and clearness of head. I have seen a novel problem also presented to a fish which I have been unable to solve, but which the fish has solved and in a marvellously ingenious manner. I have also seen fish apparently struck with admiration of human feminine beauty, and if there be any truth in the story that the “heavy, dull, degenerate mind” of Cymon was quickened by contemplating the charms of Iphigenia, does not the presence of similar appreciation in the fish suggest similar responsiveness to educational influences ? ‘* From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive : They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; They are the books, the arts, the academes.” The blenny is one of the most remarkable of organized creatures and is always attractive from its playfulness. My predecessor at the Aquarium, Mr. Saville Kent, records some interesting anecdotes of this fish, which, he justly observes, fully redeem the character of intelligence implied by its looks. Mr. Kent describes the ingenuity and faithfulness with which the male fish defended the spawn, on a ledge specially selected, from the greed of the other blennies in the tank. Moreover :— ““While the female was depositing her spawn, an operation which extended over several days, her brave little knight was seen on several occasions to descend to the bottom of the tank, and hurriedly snatching up food dropped there for the public good, return aloft, and place it at the disposal of his lady-love.” 52 ANGLERS EVENINGS. Mr. Kent properly cites this as an instance of “attach- ment, forethought, and sagacity,” qualities for which few persons would be disposed to give a fish credit.* I have myself seen the same fish display liveliness and playful fancy resembling those of a kitten. On one occasion I had some freshly caught blennies placed in a tank from which other fish had been removed. They immediately examined their new abode industriously, and one little fellow quickly espied a crevice about half way up the side of the rock-work, which was almost exactly his own shape, even to the extent of two lateral recesses corresponding to the pectoral fins. He examined this with much interest, bending his head from side to side, like a bird on a rail, and at last fitted himself into it and looked around with evident pride. Ever afterwards he appropriated this recess. He would retire to it from play, as I have seen a tired child retire to a favourite corner. One or other of his companions would sometimes in his absence steal into his loved retreat, much as I have seen a child take possession of another’s neglected doll; but as the owner of the doll, though perhaps not wanting the * In connection with this subject an interesting anecdote has been com- municated by the President of the Association. At Irt Side, Cumberland, near the President’s ‘‘ Fisherman’s Home,” thereisa fine gravel bed, and for some time a number of ducks were seen ‘‘ rooting about” on this and trying to reach the deeper parts by diving—no doubt after salmon spawn. One morning the ducks were observed ina state of great commotion, and all but one flew to the bank. The one left was seen struggling in the jaws of a salmon, who, says Colonel Mawson, ‘‘was no doubt defending the female during the deposition of the spawn.” The captive duck succeeded in making her escape, but afterwards none of the birds would return to the place, THE MIND OF FISHES. 53 article at the time, would nevertheless resent such unsanc- tioned appropriation, so the blenny would leave his play, attack the invader, and, having driven him from the crevice, ensconce himself therein, and with almost a toss of the head survey the assembled company with an expression of countenance which said plainly “This belongs to me.” What an immense gulf there is between such spon- taneous and erratic fancy and the forces associated with atoms and molecules! It was the blennies who manifested that appreciation of feminine beauty to which I have alluded. They were generally indifferent to the presence of spectators. On the occasion in question I had the honour of conducting a number of young ladies, pupils from one of our principal schools, round the exhibition. It is necessary to say that the young ladies were merging into womanhood and were exceedingly good-looking. No sooner had we arrived before the blenny tank than one of the fish, happening to turn his head, caught sight of the unusual spectacle and instantly rushed to the front. Other blennies, attracted by his sudden movement, turned round, and followed, and speedily every blenny in the tank (there were some hundreds in all), was pressing his nose against the glass, and a row of gleaming eyes was seen, expressing such intense and unmistakeable admira- tion and amazement that some of my fair companions actually blushed. A remarkable indication of intelligence was given by a large skate, a fish belonging to a species usually betraying little activity. This fish, as you are aware, is of the shark tribe, and has the ‘mouth situated on the . 54 ANGE ERS (EVENINGS: under surface of the head, while the sides are spread out into a large expanse of fin. A portion of food thrown into the tank fell directly in the angle formed by the junction of the glass front and the bottom. The fish, which generally lay amongst the shingle, floated to the food and endeavoured to seize it. This he was prevented from doing by the position of his mouth and the proximity of the food to the glass ; what I may call his snout pressed against the glass so that the mouth could not arrive at the food unless the snout passed through the glass. He made several ineffectual attempts and then lay perfectly still, as though thinking. Seeing that the creature was hungry, and having no expectation that he would be able to arrange matters without assistance, I was about to instruct the attendant to change the position of the morsel by means of a pole, when the fish saved me the trouble. Raising himself in a slanting posture so that the head inclined upwards and the mouth became visible, he waved his fins as a duck does her wings when she comes ashore, and thereby created a current in the water, which lifted the food from its position and carried it with perfect precision to his mouth. The more this incident, simple as it at first sight appears, is thought about, the more remarkable it will seem. It may be said that the action proceeded from inherited instinct ; that some remote ancestor of the skate, accidentally placed in a similar difficulty, accidentally discovered the way out of it. But this would only remove the problem farther back; for the original skate must _ have mentally noted cause and effect and have registered THE MIND OF FISHES. 55 them in the abstract in his physical mind for future use. But do we ourselves profit by such transmitted experience? Have we not each of us to learn life’s lessons for ourselves? And if this had been a case of transmitted instinct similar to nest-building, would not the ultimate solution have been the first and immediate method adopted by the fish? The very idea of choice, pre-supposes the power of judg- ment. That the fish immediately in question accidentally attained the result is a quite unwarrantable supposition. There was no indication of accident; there was every indication of deliberation, of abstract pre-figuration of the end to be achieved. It may be said that it was a case of reflex action. If by this is meant the reflex action of the mere machine, there is no analogy ; the machine supplied with motive power runs along the rails as ordained by its construction, and if an obstruction blocks the way it does not turn aside and avoid the threatened evil, but continues, even though its own destruction be the consequence. If by reflex action is meant some more occult influence of external conditions on the internal organism of the creature calling forth a corresponding action which is always of necessity beneficial, and in the interest of the actor, the fish would have just as good a right to say the same of our brightest inspirations and most sagacious proceedings. It matters not whether the mind was in the fish or round about it, the action was intelligential. “The mullet,” says Ovid, “with its tail beats off the pendent bait, and snatches it up when thus struck off.” I do not know whether any modern anglers have had experi- ence of this sagaciously cautious act. It is commonly 56 ANGLERS EVENINGS. reported, however, in books on fish and fishing, that a shoal of mullet when taken in a net will often escape by leaping over the margin into the open sea. It would appear also that this proceeding is not exactly a case of inherited instinct, since it is usually one daring fish (fitted by nature to command) who leads the way. If he succeeds in effecting his escape, the rest avail themselves of the idea and follow like a flock of sheep going over a hurdle. If the net is too high for a leap the fish will endeavour to creep under it; and failing in this attempt he will carefully examine every mesh in search of a defective place. Mr. Couch records that he has seen a grey mullet, after trying all other methods of escape, deliberately retire to the greatest possible distance from the barrier of net, and then dash furiously at the meshes in an endeavour to break them. This fish has also been known to leap, when hooked, from the water, and fall with its full weight on the line, clearly with the object of breaking it. When captured for the Aquarium, mullet were always exceedingly active, and struggled to the last to effect their escape; but once in their new home they adapted themselves philosophically to its conditions, and became tamer than most other fish, even feeding from the hands of the attendants. “The pike,’ says Ovid again, “taken in the net, though huge and bold, sinks down, crouching in the sand which it has stirred up with its tail. * * *). Sg leaps into the air and, uninjured, with a bound it escapes the stratagem.” The cool self-possession of this fish, combined as it is with extreme voracity and remarkable quickness of action, has often seemed to me to indicate PEE MPNDS OR ET STIE.S: 57 singular mental control, and therein to present a useful lesson to the human observer. Watch a pike chasing minnows! The apparent unconcern with which he slowly follows these as though quite unconscious of their exis- tence, until he has one fairly cornered, shows a methodical mind triumphing over appetite. Should his one sharp bite fail to snatch the prey, he betrays no chagrin, but swims slowly round as though nothing had happened, until another opportunity presents itself. There seems to be something allied to the distinguishing qualities of a superior mind in this patient perseverance and freedom from excitability after disappointment. In a paper read before the Literary and Philosophical Society of Liverpool in 1850, Dr. Warwick communicated a remarkable anecdote of a pike. The author was walking one day near a pond at Dunham, the seat of the Earl of Stamford and Warrington, when he startled a large pike which, in darting away, struck its head against a tenter- hook in a post. The fish rushed about apparently in extreme agony. At last it came to the surface in an exhausted state and the Doctor succeeded in capturing it, and observed that the head had sustained a slight fracture, and that a portion of the brain was protruding. By means of a tooth-pick he pushed back the exposed portion of the brain, and re-placed the fish in the water. The pike seemed much relieved, but presently it appeared again to suffer pain and came voluntarily to the side, when the Doctor again took it out of the water, and, with the help of a keeper, contrived and fitted on a slight bandage for the wound, again launching the fish after thus 58 ANGLERS EVENINGS. dressing it. On the following day Dr. Warwick again visited the pond, when presently the same fish came to the side, and, in the words of the Doctor, “literally laid its head at his feet.” The sticklebacks are nest-builders, and some curious anecdotes are told of their ingenuity in this respect when under confinement. The basse, or sea-perch, is said when hooked to double back under the boat and endeavour to cut the line against the keel, or it will seek to gain a fixed point in order that it may be able to drag the hook from its mouth. The tame cod-fish pond at Port Logan, Wigtonshire, is well-known. Mr. Buckland records some amusing experiences in feeding these fish, which took the mussels from his hands. Such anecdotes of the intelli- gence and educational capacity of fish might be very greatly increased. But even in describing what has been seen, we must remember how much has not been seen, partly because of the medium in which fish exist, and partly because of the prejudice against their claims to the possession of any intelligence at all. In consequence of the observations which large public acquaria have latterly made possible, opinion on this matter is being considerably modified. If we are to accept the latest theories of the evolu- tionists, which in this respect harmonise with the record of Moses, who doubtless learned a good deal on the subject from those sagacious scientists, the ancient Egyptians, animal life originated in the ocean; it is in the water, therefore, that we must look for, at least, the raw material of mind. It is true that the physiological SHE: MIND OF FISHES, 59 character of the brain of the fish indicates a low order of intelligence, both on account of its smallness and _ its shape. Of all the vertebrata, the cerebral hemispheres of fishes bear the smallest proportions to other parts of the structure. The brain of the carp is said to be pro- portionately the largest, and this fish is described by Walton as “a very subtle fish.” Dr. Carpenter has the following on the brains of fishes :— On opening the skull of a fish we usually observe four nervous masses (three of them in pairs) lying one in front of the other, nearly in the same line with the spinal cord. Those of the first pair are olfactory ganglia, or the ganglia of the nerves of smell. In the shark and some other fishes these are separated from the rest by peduncles, or foot-stalks. (A similar arrangement is seen in the olfactory ganglia of man.) Behind these there is a pair of ganglionic masses of which the relative size varies considerably in different fishes (thus, in the cod they are much smaller than those which succeed them, while in the shark they are much larger); these are the cerebral hemispheres. Behind these again are two large masses, the optic ganglia in which the optic nerves terminate. And at the back of these, overlying the top of the spinal cord, is a single mass, the cerebellum ; this is seen to be much larger in the active rapacious shark, the variety of whose movements is very great, than in the less energetic cod. The spinal cord is seen to be divided at the top by a fissure, which is most wide and deep beneath the cerebellum, where there is a complete opening between its two halves. This opening corresponds to that through which the cesophagus passes in the invertebrata; but as the whole nervous mass of vertebrated animals is above the alimentary canal it does not serve the same purpose in them ; and in the higher classes the fissure is almost entirely closed by the union of the two halves of the cord on the central line. Thus it will be seen that the cerebellum, which is supposed to be related to the purposes of motion, is largely developed relatively, while the cerebrum, which is supposed to be the peculiar seat of the intelligence, is 60 ANGLERS' EVENINGS. scarcely perceptible. The cerebrum is also generally inferior in size to the optic ganglia. It is true also that the fish is a cold-blooded animal. The heart consists of only two chambers, one auricle and one ventricle, and the circulation is consequently feeble, and it is not highly oxygenated. A leading physiologist has lately expressed an opinion that the irrigation, or blood supply of the brain, is possibly of more importance in determining intelligence than the size of the organ itself. As I have before remarked, we are accustomed to associate ideas of sluggishness with coldness. This circumstance, therefore, seems also to be strongly against the assumed intelligence of the fish. It is not my inten- tion to lead you into a discussion of these abstruse physiological problems. .I may, however, in conclusion, mention some possibly compensating advantages. Before the fish is condemned as devoid of intelligence it should be remembered how much he accomplishes with very inferior appliances. Let any man consider how he would get along through life if reduced to the position of a person in a sack-race. If one of my hearers will imagine himself to be thus bound, I am sure he will feel that under such conditions more than ever would now depend upon his intelligence: in other words, his head would become a more important member of his system than before. If an ordinary man were to be hooked by an angler, like a fish, he would be able to liberate himself by means of hands or legs, and he would instinctively use these appurtenances. But the fish, having no such convenient appliances, has to rely entirely upon his wits. TE MEND OF TH SIRES, 61 How well, even with such manual deficiency, and opposed to constant danger, he succeeds in supporting the burden of existence, sometimes for very lengthened periods! There is an instance on record of a carp maintaining himself for ninety years ; and, as readers of Izaak Walton know, it is said to have been demonstrated that the celebrated “ Frederick the Second Pike’ lived at ieast two hundred and sixty-seven years. How many mem- bers of our own species, unblessed by early parental training, launched upon the world without education, would be able to support themselves without assistance from the Union or the State, or the charity of friends or relatives, for even the shorter period ? Observe that, destitute of such vulgar and obvious muscular appliances as arms and legs, and of a large cerebrum, the fish is mainly dependent upon a wonder- fully lively spinal column, which, if not absolutely brain matter, is at least closely akin to such, and upon relatively large optic ganglia, embracing a visual arrangement as yet little understood, but evidently of singular power. The fish is indebted, therefore, rather to nerve tissue than to muscular or brute force. And as intelligence, so far as we can analyse it, seems to exist largely by im- pressions of external things, may we not suppose that the peculiarity of its organs of sight enables the fish to dispense with a very elaborate organ for calculation ? That by getting complete and correct ideas to begin with, he has no need for intricate machinery for subse- quent sifting and comparing operations ? And with reference to the coolness of his blood, may 62 ANGLERS EVENINGS. not something also be said in the fish’s favour? Experience teaches us that it is not when subject to the impulses of passion and the generous dictates of hot- blooded youth, that the mind is most free and most judicious. It is when familiarity with “the pranks o’ mankind” has developed in a man the cooler condition of middle life, and produced in him a permanent average of equanimity,—in short, when he is adapted to the temperature of his environment, that the mind is most clear, calm, and philosophical. The fish is always adapted to the temperature of his environment. And consider finally how favourable are the conditions of fish-life to contemplation. It has been said that the mind is most free and active when it is least conscious of the presence ofa body. Supported in a medium in which he is cushioned without corners, which yields with per- fect elasticity, and which he cannot feel; capable of transporting himself whither he will by a mere tremor of his spinal column; what hindrances can there be to the free flow of his ideas? If Shelley was justified in speak- ing of the sky-lark as a “blithe spirit,” an “unbodied joy, fish, calmly suspended in Azs medium without even the ) surely the terms are still more applicable to the necessity of using a pair of wings! And think of the time he has for reflection! Does he not often “* Under the shade of melancholy boughs Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ?” I have seen him motionless for hours together, suspended beneath the shadow of a rock, his large eye gazing into vacancy, and I have said, “What can he be doing but THE MIND OF FISHES. 63 thinking ?” At such a time may not his thoughts soar, unconscious of the “muddy vesture of decay” which Shakspere says “ doth grossly close us in?” ‘* And deep asleep he seemed, yet all awake, And music in his ears his beating heart did make.” Let me add that I do not feel that any of the possibilities alluded to in this disquisition need interfere with the angler’s pursuit. So long as the fish eats us whenever he gets a chance, it seems only, fair that we should continue to eat him, ROD FISHING OFF THE ISLE OF MAN. BY E. G. S. a\IKE many of our pleasures, that of angling is enhanced by anticipation, and by retrospect. What angler, whilst making his way to the river side, has not thought, “Now I’m sure to get a monster to-day;” “I know that ¢/zs fly will be a killer, and that I shall make a capital basket,” and other equally consoling and flattering things of the same nature? How often has the monster never come, or if he has come, has gove?—gone with some six or seven feet of very carefully selected casting line, which you had boastingly said was, “ though fine as gossamer, strong enough to hold a horse,’”—gone too with three of the favourite flies which were to do such wonders. But on some cold winter’s evening, in the company of a genial friend, you narrate your fishing experiences, and allude to the particular day when you were “broken” by “ that big fish.” How you then enjoy the retrospect, your pipe and glass become pleasanter as you conjure up scenes of many days past, and together compare notes until the solitary stroke of the clock on the mantel-shelf tells you that “the wee short hours” have come, and that it is time that you “turned in.” ROD PISHING IN: THE SEA. 65 On a lovely evening towards the end of August, I found myself ensconced in comfortable quarters looking over the beautiful bay of Ramsey, and in this bay I purposed trying what I could do with the rod. Ramsey is rapidly becoming a favourite summer resort for those who like a quiet sea-side place at which can be had the advantages of fine scenery, capital boating, fishing, and bathing, with reasonable charges. The principal drawbacks are the difficulties attending the landing of passengers. The steamer can only go into the harbour at or near high water, and the passengers have frequently to be landed in boats. This entails considerable delay and inconvenience, as the officials will insist upon tumbling a certain quantity of luggage into each boat. As my party was a large one, the baggage was proportionately large, but ultimately it was all tumbled into the boat, and, on the top of a pile of boxes I was rowed from the steamer up the harbour in a sort of triumph. I mention this because the inconvenience would be greatly reduced if one or two boats were kept exclusively for luggage, and the others for passengers, separate gangways being used. If the matter is taken up by the visitors to Mona’s Isle, it is very probable that before long this much-desired change will be made. The beauty of Ramsey Bay is so well-known that I am not going to attempt to describe it, and shall simply say that, between Point of Ayr, the northerly headland of the bay, and Maughold Head, the southerly point, about nine miles, there is ample room for the fisherman to try his skill. For rod-fishing, the rocks F 66 | ANGLERS’. EVENINGS. to the south are decidedly the best ground, and my first attempt at sea-fishing with the fly was from the rocks at Port Lewaigue. I cannot say that I was particularly successful. The rocks are some height above the water, and the foothold is not of the best, so that if I had managed to hook a good fish it is a question whether I should have landed him, or he would have landed me —in deep water. Y understand that good fishing may be had from these rocks with a strong rod and line, using sand eel or other bait, but I never tried it, so cannot speak positively. Finding fly fishing from the rocks a failure, I determined to try it from a boat, and accordingly I consulted Looney, who is the principal pleasure boat proprietor in Ramsey. He is engaged in many other profitable undertakings, and by the visitors is regarded as a sort of “enquire within upon everything.” Anyone going to Ramsey cannot do better than consult Looney for such information about boating or fishing as may be required, and certainly from my own experiénce of the ways of that active little man, he will find any information which Looney can give, imparted most cheerfully The end of my conference with Looney was that I engaged a boat for a week, and determined to fish diligently. That afternoon, after hiring a couple of “sea urchins” to row, and having seated my wife com- fortably in the stern of the boat, with the landing net in her care, we pulled off for Maughold Head. I would advise anyone fishing with the rod on the sea not to fish from too small a boat. No great speed is required,—in fact the boat should just be kept moving, — ROD PISHING TN TEES SEA. 67 and the“ way” on a moderately heavy boat is much steadier than on a light one. In addition to this the sea some- times becomes rough in a very short time, and in a small boat this means a wetting, and probably compels the fisherman to make for the shore just as fish may be well on the feed. The boys, of course, are anxious to have a light boat, as it may, perhaps, be a little easier for them to pull (though I very much question this), but for comfort I advise the selection of a boat tolerably broad in the beam, and having, at least, one strake more than the generality of rowing boats are built with. It is also an advantage to. take one or two large stones, which, being fastened to a rope by the ordinary timber hitch with an additional hitch at one side, and dropped over the stern, will act as a drag, and prevent the boat drifting too fast, in case a strong tide is running or too much wind blowing. This device, however, is not often required, if you get hold of boys who will row as they are ordered, but if they won’t do so, then the stone over- board is a more powerful argument than many words. The boys I had rowing for me were pretty obedient, so that in a short time we were on the fishing ground, and then, as I had got my tackle into order, the word was “easy all,” and the flies were thrown on the water and allowed to trail, for I had determined to try “whiffing,” as it is called, until I got to know the ground. It may not be out of place here to give a description of the tackle which, after many trials, I found most suitable for general sea fishing. It is the common im- 68 ANGLERS EVENINGS. pression that any sort of tackle is good enough. Many times have I seen the amateur angler fishing for “ what he could get” with a line something like a signal halyard, at the end of which was tied, in the most marvellous complication of knots, a hook, either as small as he should have used if he had been fishing for stickle-backs in a pond, or else as large as a conger hook, and baited with all sorts of wonderful bait. Even the professional fishermen are no exception to the rule, though now and then you will find one who has been converted and learnt to “fish fine,” with the result of making much better hauls than those who insist upon following the old-fashioned method. There is no greater mistake than to use rough, coarse tackle for sea fishing, whether with the rod or the hand line. Doubtless a very large quantity of fish may be taken with any sort of tackle when they are on the feed, but the experience of those who have tried fishing with fine and carefully- made tackle is, that even when fish are not greedily feeding, twice the number may be taken. Sea fish, of course, are somewhat unsophisticated, and have not had the careful training of the wily trout in the Dove or other well-fished Derbyshire streams, but we must give them credit for not being stupidly blind and unable to see a line like a cart rope, or a hook about the size of an anchor, on which has been placed a microscopic portion of mussel or dead fish. Perhaps the best lines for sea-fishing with rod are the dressed lines manufactured by the Manchester Cotton Twine Company, and I should advise anyone ROD LISTING IN THE SEA, 69 fishing in Ramsey Bay to have at least sixty yards on his reel. I always, when in a boat, fish with two rods, the one a trolling rod, with a moderately pliable top, and the other a strong trout or a grilse rod. The lines should, of course, be of proper thickness for the different rods, that is to say, an ordinary trolling line for the trolling rod, and a fine salmon line for the fly rod. The ordinary check reels should be used. The trace for the trolling rod I make as follows, and though it may appear somewhat peculiar as to the way in which the leads are placed on it, I feel sure that for sea-fishing it is much the best. In the first place I have the “Field” leads mounted on strong treble-twisted salmon gut or gimp, using only a short length of about three inches, with a knot at each end and the usual loop. The best way to make this is to make the ordinary casting-line loop (which in this thickness of gut or gimp makes a tolerably large knot), and not to cut the end too short, but to leave about the third of an inch, which should be wrapped with well-waxed thread. It is well to have two or three of these mounted leads of various weights, so that the trace may be altered to suit the state of the tide. One of these leads I put on immediately below the reel line, having first attached a brass swivel to the reel line by a £04, and I then attach three feet of treble-twisted salmon gut with loops at each end as before. At the end of this treble-twisted salmon gut I loop on another brass swivel, smaller than the top one, and to it I loop two feet of double-twisted salmon gut, on which I have mounted a very light “Field” lead, which is kept on 70 ANGLERS EVENINGS. this particular portion of the trace by a sma// brass swivel attached to the lower end. To the lower loop of this small swivel is fastened about two feet of single salmon gut, the hook (a No. 4 Limerick) being tied on with the ordinary gut knot, so as to make a perfectly clean run for the last three feet of the trace. Thus a trace of seven feet in length gradually tapering from the reel line to the hook is made. I think it preferable to use tinned hooks, as they do not rust, and are nearly the colour of the bait usually used in trolling. The reason for using two leads placed as I have explained is this, that the heavier lead close to the reel- line enables you to keep the proper depth, while the light lead three feet from the bait steadies it and ensures much more easy and attractive spinning than can be got by the mere bait streaming behind, when you are trolling slowly. Ina variable tide-way, and in sea-fishing, slow trolling is very much the most killing. Asa rule the best fish are taken with the troll, and it is a very good plan if fish are not taking well, to spin the bait, by sinking and raising the point of the rod slowly, and so slightly varying the speed and depth of the bait. Some persons advise that the speed of the bait should be varied by an occasional spurt of three or four strokes, but the variation of speed can be attained with so much greater delicacy by working the rod, that I much prefer it. Undoubtedly the bait of bait for sea-trolling is the sand launce, commonly, but erroneously, called the sand eel, the former being the Amsmodytes Lancea, and never exceeding the length of seven inches—the latter being ROD FISHING INVTHE SEA. 71 the Ammodytes Tobianus, and reaching, when full-grown, the length of 12 or 13 inches. The Manx name for the sand launce is “The Gibbon.” At low tide they are obtained in great quantities by being forked out of the sand, into which they wriggle toa depth of three or four inches. At spring tides the boys and girls may be seen by dozens at the water’s edge turning up the sand and gathering the gibbons in large quantities; for, not only are they a bait which almost all sea fish will take greedily, but they are also regarded as a delicacy for the table, and when fried in oil or butter in the same way as whitebait, they are certainly most excellent eating. The natives also cut off their heads, clean them, and dry them in the sun, and afterwards fry them in the ordinary way. They may generally be obtained fresh for 2d. per quart, and of course for bait, the fresher they are the better. Mr. Willcock, in his able and exhaustive book upon sea-fishing, speaks of the killing properties of the five sand launce as a bait, but for my own part I never use a live bait, and I do not care to inflict unneces- sary pain even upon sand launces. The only advice of dear old Izaak’s, which I don’t care to follow, is, that as to the treatment of a live frog as a bait for pike, and I always think that the Father of Anglers meant to convey some hint as to the cruelty of this when he carefully pointed out how the unfortunate frog has to be put on the hook “as though you loved him.” Most good fisher- men are able to spin with the natural bait, and will, therefore, have no difficulty in mounting a sand launce according to their own particular fancies; but as my 72 ANGLERS EVENINGS. remarks may be addressed to some who have never “spun,” I will tell them my own way of putting on a sand launce as a spinning bait. A single hook properly baited is, to my mind, much more convenient than the most elaborately got up triple-hook, with lip-hook, tail- hook, and all the usual paraphernalia of spinning baits, and equally killing. Of course it must be remembered that I am speaking of trolling for sea fish; but having tried all sorts of arrangement of hooks, I may add that I now never use anything but a single hook, and I find that with it, properly dressed, I seldom miss striking, or landing, my fish. The hook should be passed through the sand launce from right to left just behind the eye, and then a turn should be taken and the bend of the hook passed through the back of the bait from left to right about an inch below the eye, so as to leave merely about half an inch of the barbed end of the hook projecting from the side of the bait. Before passing the hook through the back of the bait, the sand launce must be “gathered up,” so as to give it the least possible curve. If these instruc- tions are carefully followed the bait will spin so as to look like a bar of burnished silver, and will prove most attractive to nearly all sea fish. If sand launces cannot be obtained a very good substitute is a scar about four inches long cut from the side of a mackarel, and if this bait is used it is an advan- tage to have a small lip-hook wrapped on the gut about two inches above the ordinary hook. This plan may also be adopted if any difficulty is experienced in mounting the sand launce in the manner I have explained above. ROD PISHING IN-THI= SEA. 73 Artificial spinning baits may be used, but though I have tried several I have not found any of them answer so well as the sand launce, whilst the danger of the triple tail hooks catching in the tangle or sea-weed is much greater than if a single hook is used; and I know from experience, that when strong tangle is caught by the spinning bait, the chance of recovering it is only small. A good imitation of the sand launce can be made by lashing about six inches of small india-rubber tubing to your hook, one inch of the tubing being left whole and slipped over the shank of the hook, and the remaining five inches being composed of the tube divided into two halves by cutting longitudinally with a sharp penknive. A little twist given in the cutting will cause the artificial bait to spin very fairly. This is a very economical bait, as, of course, by taking care in cutting the tubing (which may be bought for about sixpence or eightpence a yard), seven inches of tubing will make two bait—one inch at each end of the tubing being left untouched to form the head portion to be slipped over the shank of the hook, and the remaining five inches in the middle of the tube being divided across diagonally, will of course give five inches of tail to each bait. If the angler desires to try other artificial bait, he will have no difficulty in obtaining an almost endless variety at any good fishing-tackle makers, but the bait I have mentioned are, in my experience, the simplest, the cheapest, and the best. L-xperto credo. I must now explain the tackle used on the fly rod, and also the flies which I found most killing. The 74 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. ordinary flies for sea fishing may be obtained at most fishing tackle shops, and are generally dressed on Limerick hooks of various sizes. The wings are composed of white goose feathers, or white and red feathers with bodies of white or red wool; but many other variations may be made on these with advantage. Any half-worn grilse, sea trout, or salmon fly may be used, but the fly which I found the most killing was one which I had dressed to my own pattern. It is dressed with rather large wings of goose feathers, dyed the brightest possible yellow, and the body is made of scarlet wool wrapped round with a little bit of gold tinsel. It is a very showy fly, and after trying it in all sorts of weather, as tail, middle, and bob fly, I can, without boasting, say that in whatever position it was placed, it was taken in preference to any other of the established pattern flies, by three fish out of every four that I caught. So great a success was it that at the request of many anglers in the Island I gave the pattern to Miss Linton, Market Place, Ramsey; I have also given it to Mr. Mitchell, of Market Street, Manchester, from either of whom the flies may be obtained. For anglers who dress their own flies, I would simply say that these flies, and, in fact, all sea flies, should be dressed on salmon gut. The trace for sea fly-fishing should be about seven feet of strong salmon gut. If you are likely to have much casting it is better only to use two flies, and it is an advantage to place a moderately large split shot at the head of your tail fly in order to sink it a little, as few sea fish are taken quite on the surface of the water. If, however, you are “ whiffing,” or trailing your flies, you ROD BISHING IN THE SEA: 75 may use three, but they should not be more than a foot from each other; in fact, in sea fishing I think you can hardly have your flies too close together. There is one fly called the “shaldon shiner,” which I hope to try for myself, and which is described by Mr. Willcock as “a kind of imitation of the dragon fly. The body is as thin as possible, being nothing but flattened silver wire, a small brush of scarlet feather for the tail, a little green, blue, and red dubbing out of an old Turkey carpet for the shoulders, and bright blue wings, to which add half a dozen fibres of goose feathers in front. With this, fishing at the mouth of a river, harbour, or in the pools just inside, you will probably take a sea trout or two, or even a salmon, particularly if you fish at the beginning of the ebb tide. Make it ona ‘9,’ ‘10,’ or ‘11’ hock. In the Taw and Trowbridge estuary at Instow, North Devon, the fly in use is made with white and grey feathers and a silver body, and with this, great sport is fre- quently obtained.” The fish taken by the rod in Ramsey Bay by the fly are mackarel, pollack, and coal-fish; and by the troll I have taken rock-cod, sea bream, and wrasse. The whiting pollack, which is known in the Isle of Man as the “calig,” is a fish which affords great sport, and may be got on the coast weighing from a quarter of a pound to eighteen or twenty pounds. It is called in Scotland and on the north coast, the “lythe,” whilst the coal-fish, known in the north as the “saithe,” is by the Manxmen called the “bloggan,’ and has been known to attain a weight of thirty pounds. Both these fish are to be taken off rocky ground and over the large beds of tangle near the shore; 76 ANGLERS EVENINGS. and as they are strong, and struggle hard, they afford plenty of sport. It is necessary to use a gaff to land a “calig” or “bloggan” of above seven or eight pounds. A cheap gaff may be made by filing down the point of a large conger or bonita hook, and lashing it to a stout wooden handle of from two to three feet in length. Amongst the first things that a sea fisherman has to do, is, to get to know the situation of the rocks and beds of tangle, the set of tide, and other matters of the same sort. This knowledge he will gather by an hour’s quiet chat with the local fishermen, who, over a pipe, will in the most obliging way give all the information they can. Let me, however, point out, that Manxmen are a fine, hardy, independent set of fellows, who do not care either to be chaffed or condescendingly patronised, but who never hesitate to take any amount of trouble to assist those who ask it in a manly, straightforward way. I have visited the island for many years, staying there some- times for weeks at a time, and in no part of the United Kingdom have I found greater civility or kindness. The situation of the rocks and tangle beds, most of which are to the south of Ramsey harbour and town, is soon Jearned. ‘There is one large rock, called)” Phe Carrig,” about a mile and a quarter S.E. from the harbour, and about half-a-mile from the shore, which was some years ago the scene of a wreck, some of the timbers of which now lie at the bottom of the sea, close to the rock. It is covered at about three-quarter tide, but when the top is visible it may be considered as a good fishing ground. This was the first place that ROD FISHING IN THE SEA. 77 I tried, and I had not been fishing many minutes before I rose, and struck, a “calig.’ A few more fish were taken, but, as they were small, I determined to go still further south, and fish about fifty or sixty yards from the rocks. Accordingly “the boys” bent to their oars, and away we shot from the Carrig to Table-land point. I was fishing with two flies to one rod, and to the other an artificial Devon bait, and I may as well say that with the latter I only took one fish (and that a very poor one) during three hours’ fishing. As we rowed away I let out more of my fly line and shortly had my reward, for I felt a tremendous pull, and the line ran off the reel at lightning speed. “Easy, boys,” and whilst my wife reeled up the trolling line I played my fish, which was making the rod (a strong two-handed green- heart rod of Farlow’s) bend in a way to try the temper of the top piece. My trace was one which I had used for trout fishing, so I had to humour my fish, which for ten minutes or so seemed to be making for every point of the compass. Foot by foot I got him in, and, as my wife sat ready with net in hand, there was a great splash, and I saw that there was more than “a him’— there were two fish on. Short work it was to bring them up to landing distance, and the net being quietly put under them, two exceedingly large mackarel were taken out of the water and dropped into the boat. The ten minutes’ playing those two mackarel on somewhat fine tackle was as good a bit of sport as I ever experienced, and to such anglers as have not fished for mackarel with the fly and rod, I can only say “Do so once and you will do it 78 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. again.” “Pull on, boys,’ and after a short time the music of the reel again was heard, and a fair-sized calig was soon in the net. “ We've overrun the mackarel,” I exclaimed ; “Pull back, and let us try for another.” This was done, and after taking two or three small calig, we got amongst the mackarel again, and soon had a few good fish. As we had now got a first-rate appetite to enjoy our freshly caught fish, and the afternoon was pretty well over, we pulled ashore, and so ended my first day’s fishing. The description of my afternoon’s fishing so acted upon my friend Urmston that he arranged to go with me the next day. He had been out with me a day or two previously, fishing for trout in the Sulby River, but without any great success, and he looked forward to having much greater sport with the calig and bloggan than he had been able to get with the wily trout. By the advice of Looney I took some “gibbons” with me in order to try a change, for I determined to'fish in every way I could until I found out the most killing method. We had the same boys with us as on the previous day, but I found that one strong young fellow would manage the boat very much better than two boys, and I afterwards took “Robert,” whom Looney recommended, and whom I found one of the handiest and most civil young fellows that ever got into a boat. Our second day’s fishing was a decided improvement on the first, but we did not get a single mackarel. We got a good number of fair-sized calig, and at last my friend, who was using the “gibbon,” whilst I was using fly, got a tremendous pull. “That’s either a good fish or tangle,” I ROD FISHING IN THE SEA. 79 exclaimed, but on easing the boat we soon found that it was a good fish. Urmston’s rod and tackle were light for the work, and the fish had to be played very carefully. However, patience is a useful virtue, and after some minutes the broad yellow side of a fine calig could be seen gleaming in the water, and before long an 8ib. fish was safely basketed. From that time Urmston became an enthusiastic rod fisher, and I was convinced that though with the fly a larger number of fish might be taken, che big fish were only to be tempted with the gibbon. Here is piece of advice for anglers: When fishing from a boat never be induced to take with you a friend who is not cither fishing himself, or thoroughly interested in your fishing. If you do so you will find most probably that just as you are getting on grandly, your “passenger” will complain that his “legs are getting cramped,” or that “the seats of the boat are dreadfully hard,” and ultimately that “he wishes he could get ashore.” Of course you have to put him “ashore,” and in so doing lose perhaps an hour of the very best state of thetide. My remarks may appear ill-natured, but I can speak from experience that a non-fisherman is about the most unsatisfactory company you can have on a fishing boat. Another piece of advice which I again give is—learn the ground ¢horoughly. A rocky shore varies so much with the state of the tide, and so much good ground may be fished at half water during a flood tide, which it would be useless to go to at ebb tide, that the trouble of getting to know the ground thoroughly is more than repaid by the extra success in fishing, whilst 80 ANGLERS EVENINGS. the annoyance of getting your spinner or flies caught and broken in the tangle may be avoided. I may say that half ebb is about the best time for pollack fishing, though the half flood tide is nearly as good. Perhaps it was my feeling with regard to “passengers” to which I have given expression just now, which induced me, one glorious day early in September, to start off about three o’clock in the afternoon, taking only “ Robert” with me to pull the boat. It was a day I shall long remember. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun was shining with dazzling brightness on a sea literally as smooth as glass. Certainly it did not seem a very promising day for fishing, but I had determined upon a plan of operation which, though an experiment, I hoped might be crowned with success. ‘“ Now, Robert,” I said, “let us try the Carrig, keeping a good way out, and row slowly round, gradually getting nearer in.” “Well, b sir,” replied Robert, “you mean to try them properly: to-day. Them Mr. L.’s were out all day yesterday. There was three of them at it and they got over three dozen, but none of them very big.” (I should here say that my rod-fishing had induced some other visitors to try it as well.) “All right, Robert, we'll see what we can do, but it’s not a very likely day.” I have explained that the “Carrig” is an isolated rock, round which there is good pollack fishing. We went slowly round the rock, and so clear and smooth was the water, that looking over the side I could see every leaf of the tangle slowly waving below, and now and then the fish darting about or “hovering” like lazy well-fed trout ina pool, “Not ROD FISHING IN THE SEA. SI much good to-day, Robert, I fear; but let us try another round a little nearer to the rock.” Quietly, with hardly a motion of the oars, Robert kept the boat slowly moving. I fished, as usual, with my trolling rod, baited with the “gibbon,” out on the starboard side, which was the side farthest from the rock, and consequently in the deepest water, whilst I fished the water nearer the rock with my fly rod “ whiffing,” as it was too smooth to cast. I got three or four of what Robert called “humbugs” with the fly, and was just inclined to leave when the reel of my trolling rod made its well-known music. “That’s a proper fish, sir,’ said Robert, and so I found it, for though I hada strong rod and strong tackle I had hard work to keep him from getting into the tangle. A big pollack, when hooked, some- times comes to the top of the water with a rush, but more frequently he makes a run of from ten to forty yards, and, unless checked and got well in hand, will get down into the tangle and “thread the needle” amongst the tough stalks, when you and your fish will very soon part company. I had got to know the ways of “the critter,” but this “ proper fish” took out some fifty yards of line in his first rush, the greater portion of which I took back as soon as possible, and then he sulked and, hanging like so much dead weight, refused to be moved. “Pull away from the rock, Robert, and slightly towards the fish,’ I said; and this order being promptly obeyed, I got on better terms with my fish, and had the boat in a position for checking the rushes which he would probably make towards his G 82 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. harbour amongst the tangle-covered rocks and old timbers. At length he moved, and rapidly too, but I had him well in hand, and after checking some half dozen vicious rushes, I saw the side of a fine fish gleaming brightly in the water. In another minute or two he was at the side of the boat, and Robert lifted him in by the gaff. He was a pollack of ten pounds weight, in magnificent condition, and certainly had died game, I then determined to carry out a plan which I had formed of fishing the little creeks and crannies at Maug- hold Head, and so rowed quietly a couple of miles south from the Carrig to another detached rock called the “Stack.” On my way I got one or two more fish, including a nice rock-cod of about four pounds weight. As I have before stated, Maughold Head is the headland which forms the southern boundary of Ramsey Bay. It is composed of wild crags and rocks, which in some places rise to a considerable height, and there is deep water up to the very edge. Under the shadow of the rocks was the place I had determined to fish, as I knew that it could only be fished on a perfectly calm day. If there is any wind there is sure to be a sea running at one side or other of Maughold Head, sufficient to try the seaworthiness of a boat and the muscles of the rowers. However, this day there was not a ripple) As we rowed along about ten yards from the rocks, the cormorants, which were sitting in scores on the ledges above, would tumble into the sea or scatter off over the water as fast as they could go. The scenery was grand in the extreme, but I had not full time to admire it, as my attention ROD FISHING IN THE SEA. 83 was pretty well taken up by my rods. I had three hours’ fishing along these rocks, and had finer sport than I anticipated. On one occasion I thought that I had “a monster” on my fly rod, but it turned out that I had three fish, one on each fly. Luckily for me, that on my bob fly was not a large one. The others were good fish, and, on landing all three, which I succeeded in doing, I found that they weighed together about nine pounds. Just as I landed them, a sea bream of about three pounds was taken by the gibbon, which had got a good deal too deep in the water, so that I had variety in my fishing. “We are going to make a rare fishing of it yet, sir,” said Robert, and sure enough we did, for I took fish with the fly very rapidly. Such as were small I threw back into the sea, trusting that they would profit by the lesson, and remember that certain yellow or red flies had stings in their tails. As we were going slowly back over the ground which we had been fishing I struck a big fish with the troll. “Another good one,” said I, for the rush was that of a strong fish; but suddenly he stopped, and in a second or two afterwards away came the line, leaving the hook and gibbon behind. “ How’s that, Robert,” said I, for I had been treating the fish “tenderly.” “Conger, sir,” said Robert, “there’s a many of them hereabouts, and that’s just a conger’s trick.” And so I fancy it was, for when I reeled up I found that the gut had-»been bit clean in two. The damage was soon repaired, and before I gave up that evening, many another good fish was in the boat. As the last rays of the sun sank in the west we pulled straight away for home, and, on our arrival at Ramsey 84 ANGLERS EVENINGS. beach, we counted the “basket.” I found that in about four hours I had killed thirty-one fish, and returned to the sea about adozen more. The thirty-one fish weighed nearly one hundred pounds. After taking one or two for my own use, the rest were borne away by Robert, who, in a sort of triumphant way, upon wishing me “Good night,” exclaimed, “They'll have hard work to beat that fishing, sir.’ Such was my experience ; for though I was out several times afterwards, and had very good sport indeed, I never had so large a take of fine fish. One rough afternoon afterwards I got some very good ones, the largest of them a pollack, in splendid condition and measuring nearly a yard long, but my calm afternoon’s sport with Robert was such as a man cannot expect to have often. If in this paper I have been somewhat egotistical, I would, by way of apology, remark that angling anecdotes must of necessity be of a personal character, and that a fisherman’s advice, to be of any practical good, should be confined to what he has tried and found to be of service. I have done my best to make my instructions clear, and I can truly say that whatever I recommend I have tried and found to answer; and that this paper has been written with a wish that it may not only afford an hour’s amusement, but may be the means of giving many an angler as good sport and keen enjoyment as I derived from rod-fishing off the Isle of Man, A CONGER SilORY. BY EDWIN WAUGH.* OE GUESS thou’ll not remember thi uncle Jonas ?” : “Well; I can just remember him, Robert ; but it’s as mich as th’ bargain.” “T dar say. . . . Him an’ me wur particular friends. We had a rare do together i’'th’ Isle o’ Man once, twenty year sin. There wur thi Uncle Jonas, an’ me, an’ Jone o’ Simeon’s, th’ bazzoon-player. Jone had a wood leg, shod wi’ iron. We o’ set off together to th’ Isle o’ Man; an’, when we geet theer, we went straight across toa place co’ed Port Erin, at th’ west end o’ th’ islan’; where there wur very good fishin; an’ it’s a terrible place for conger eel, an’ o’ sorts o’ big fish. Well; one day we took a boat, an’ a boatman, an’ we went out a-fishin’.i’th’ bay,—wi’ strong lines, an’ great hooks, ready for aught that coom. An’ while we sat theer, danglin’ th’ lines o’er th’ edge o’th boat, thi uncle Jonas began a-jokin Jone about his wood leg. ‘Jone,’ he said, ‘if this boat happens to upset thou'll float lunger * Mr. Waugh, though not a member of the Anglers’ Association, was kind enough to send the above humorous sketch before publication, to be read at one of the ‘‘ Evenings,” and has further increased the indebtedness of the Anglers to him, by allowing them to add it to the present volume. 86 ANGLERS EVENINGS. than me. ‘How so?’ ‘Thou’s so mich wood about tho.’ ‘Well, but,’ said Jone, ‘I think thou’ll ston as good a chance as me—if I have a wood leg. ‘How so?’ ‘Because thou’rt so well timber’t at th’ top end.’ But while they wur agate o’ their fun, thi uncle Jonas felt a great tug at his line. ‘Hello!’ cried he, ‘what the devil’s this? Come here, lads!’ The boatman went and geet howd o’th line. ‘Ay,’ said he, ‘this is a conger; an’ a big un, too! I hope it'll not break th’ line! By th’ mass, how it tugs! Gently! It’s a big fish isthis! Let him play a bit! It’s comin’! Eh, what a mouth! Ston fur! Here it is!’ It wuf a'tremendous size; anias soon as we'd getten it o’er th’ edge o’ th’ boat it flew fro’ side to side, snappin’ savagely first at one, then at another onus. ‘Look out!’ cried one. ‘Punce it!’ cried another. ‘It’s a devil!’ cried another. ‘Mind; thou’ll upset th’ boat! Heigh, Jone; it’s comin’ to thee! Look out!’ Jone took aim at it with his iron-shod wood leg; but he missed th’ fish, an’ sent his wood leg slap through th’ bottom o’ th’ boat, reet up'to th’ knee.” “ Theieheas cried thi uncle Jonas; ‘thou’s shapt that grandly, owd lad!” “Poo me up)! eried Jone; “Poomme up; somegan yo; I’m fast!’ ‘Howd; stop!’ said thi uncle Jonas; ‘thou munnot tak thi leg out! We’s be drown't!’ ‘Drown’t or not drown’t, cried Jone, ‘I mun ha’ my leg out o’ this hole!’ ‘Thou mun keep it where it is, I tell tho, or else we’s ha’ th’ boat full o’ wayter in a minute.’ ‘An’ how long am I to cruttle down here,’ cried Jone, wi’ my leg i’ this hole?’ Then he gav a sudden jerk, an’ he skrike’t out louder than ever, ‘Oh, poo me up, this A CONGER STORY. 87 minute!’ ‘What’s to do now?’ ‘Th’ conger’s getten howd on me beheend! Tak it off!’ An’ sure enough it had getten fast howd o’ th’ soft end of his back,—and theer it stuck. ‘For pity’s sake tak it off!’ cried Jone. /@h- don't, poo soyhard!) Wet it, cet> loose of. itsel:! Prize it mouth oppen! Oh! Iconnot ston this!’ ‘It’s no use!’ said thi uncle Jonas, ‘it'll not let go!’ ‘Then cut it yed off!’ cried Jone; ‘an’ poo ashore as fast as yo con,—I’m bleedin’ like a cauve!’ So we pood ashore as fast as we could, wi’ Jone’s leg stickin’ through th’ bottom o’ th’ boat; but when we were gettin’ near lond, Jone’s leg coom again a sunken rock, an’ snapt reet off close to th’ boat. ‘Theer,’ said Jone, pooin’ his stump out o’ th’ hole, ‘thank God for that,—sink or swim! Now, then, tak this thing off my hinder end!’ So, wi’ much ado, we manage’t to cut th’ conger off, close to th’ yed; but th’ yed stuck fast to th’ owd lad’s breeches when done. An thi uncle Jonas had to carry Jone on his back fro’ th’ boat to th’ alehouse, wi’ his brokken stump, an’ th’ conger’s head hangin’ beheend him. An’ when th’ folk at th’ alehouse seed us comin’, they shouted fro’ th’ dur-hole, an’ axed what luck we’d had. ‘Luck!’ said Jone; ‘look at th’ back o’ me, here! I’ve had a bite, if nobody else has!’” AN OCTOBER DAY AMONG” THE GRAYLING. BY DAVID REID. polluted streams and close preserves, offering such advantages to Manchester anglers as the Derbyshire Wye. This lovely water, and the vale through which it flows, are indeed difficult to surpass. Salmon fishing has its triumphs; and to wave the wand o’er some northern stream, capturing the speckled beauties in Nature’s wilds and breathing the invigorating air of the moorland and mountain, is also glorious; but these are more difficult to obtain. On this water both the possession and the opportunity are within the reach of us all, anda quiet. day amongst the graceful grayling here is a treat that stands by itself. The Wye extends for our purpose from the fine old town of Bakewell to the village of Rowsley, about four miles by road, but by the river-side probably twice that distance. It may be described as consisting of two nearly equal parts, Haddon Hall marking the division. These may be spoken of as the upper or semi-artificial portion, and the lower or natural river. In the upper part (for purposes of irrigation and the improvement of Te, DTTCEY SHERI IVE. 89 the fishing) art has been most judiciously employed in banking up the river by means of weirs, the result being most satisfactory, especially from an angler’s point of view. Here will be found those long silent reaches which appear to be a peculiarity of the Wye, and in which grayling abound. The lower portion comprises broken water, high banks, and deep pools, and is rather the home of the trout than the grayling. The whole of these waters are fishable if a ticket be obtained either at Rowsley’s famous old inn, the ‘“ Peacock,’ or at the sign of the “Rutland Arms” at Bakewell. Of Haddon’s classic vale, through which our water meanders, a word must be said; for I take it that a true angler and worthy disciple of our common master is also a true lover of the beautiful in Nature. Visit the Wye at whatever season you please, the valley will charm you with its beauty. Though on our October day the emerald brightness of spring is not to be seen, and though the golden sheen of summer is gone, yet the autumn tints are there ; and though the birds of summer have departed, 7 the watchful heron and ever-wary wild-fowl will keep us company. The fair landscape will fill us with rapture— winding stream, fertile plain, wooded copse, hills crowned with verdure, and, closing in the scene, the time-honoured towers of Haddon. Are you an angler-naturalist? The wealth of insect life (your quarry’s food) that swarms around, will reward your thoughtful gaze. Are you with antiquarian thoughts imbued? The shades of the mighty dead from far past feudal times will accompany you in your musings, or more honoured still, the form of Dorothy go ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. the Fair may glide in imagination by your side and shew you how to become “a complete angler.” This water is a proof of what careful preservation will do. The stock is assisted by artificial breeding so far as trout is concerned ; the grayling have to look about for themselves. From Bakewell to Rowsley there is not only always a fair amount of fish, but in some places the river is comparatively full. Of the takes of fish, I have it on credible authority that in 1874 a gentleman, then residing at Bakewell, took out of this river, between January and December, upwards of twelve hundred fish! Of ordinary takes I have also proof of thirteen brace of fish in one day, followed by eleven brace the next day. On good fishing days, given all the essential conditions, six to eight brace may be averaged. And what fish to be sure! Bright, silvery, and beautiful to behold—fish well brought up, in fact highly educated, I promise you; fish that will test your skill, both to hook and afterwards to basket. I need scarcely add that upon this water there is nothing allowed but fair fly-fishing ; no ignoble death to these lordly fish by vulgar worm or treacherous minnow; no vile grub, or bait of any kind. These October fish must be taken only by the fly and “with brains, sir.” As regards flies, the small hackles, red, dun, and black of an angler’s book ought to be good killers always, and provided they be good hackles, and used by a work- man, I do not doubt that they will hold their own against the local flies. The local flies, however, are beautiful specimens of the fly-maker’s art. Many anglers may hold fast to the famed bumbles, and believe that they THE DERBYSHIRE WYE. gl are the best all the year round. I do not go so far as this, but, unquestionably, they must occupy a foremost place in every angler’s stock for Derbyshire fishing. My own cast, an “all the year round” cast, is a small- winged dun for point; first dropper, a dun bumble; second dropper, the little Derbyshire red ; top dropper, the stone midge. This cast I use asa standard. Of the excellent qualities of the small black fly (the stone midge) I have only recently been made aware. I use for point-fly in early spring, a large dun; in March there is nothing like it. I remember well my astonishment when first told of this on the Wye. The take in one day in spring was eight brace of the finest grayling ; and this on a non-rising day, as I thought. I vary the cast in summer by using for a point- fly, either the dotterill hackle, or the sand-fly hackle (the corn-crake of the north), or the small yellow-winged dun. These three flies represent that numerous class, the duns and browns that cloud a summer water. The colour and the fine, silky, sensitive hackle that is on them are the attractions. This cast is not only used by me on the Wye, but on Clyde and Tweed I have found them very satisfactory; and in September I used with success the dotterill and sand-fly for a sea-trout cast at Galway. As regards the procuring of flies, Mr. Ogden has an agent at Bakewell, Mrs. Shenton, who keeps the toy shop in the Square. It is well to look at the stock ; many a good idea may be picked up by so doing. Mr. Hensberg also, the civil and obliging keeper of the water, who lives in the ivied cottage on the hill, (a good fisherman and 92 ANGLERS VE VENTING S. ever ready to help with a word of counsel,) has always a stock of suitable flies. When on the stream, begin at the first weir-pool below the bridge. Mine host of the “Rutland” says it contains more fish than any other pool on the river, but as to catching them—that is another matter. From this pool down to the stepping-stones, near the rookery, there is about a mile of water of the choicest kind—a stream slowly gliding over gravelly shallows. Be particular to fish the deep silent pools at the ends of the ~ shallows. Leaving the first pool, you come successively to the second and the third weir, then comes the mill stream junction (where is a glorious shallow), next, the island, with its swim, and then the rustic bridge pool. All these are good places, and this description thrice repeated will apply to almost all the water from this point to the stepping-stones, where, in the course of a couple of hours, we will suppose you have arrived with two or three brace of fish in your creel. The catch of thirteen-and-a-half brace before- mentioned, was chiefly taken out of the water we have now passed. From this point to Haddon the river widens considerably, the water becomes rougher, and the pools are larger and deeper. By some fishers this part is considered the cream of the water, and by the time the angler arrives here his success for the day is pretty clearly indicated. The holds are many, and the fish plentiful, and such as delight the angler’s eye. Again, be sure to try the pools. These constitute one of the peculiarities of this stream, and it is casting THE DERBVSHIRE WYE: 93 on these that proves what the fisher is capable of—all the art he possesses, the finest casting, the most delicate tackle, the longest throws are required.* If the cast be clumsy, there is a splash, and all is over—these Wye fish will have none of you. But if the contrary—a stream of silvery light glances, and a thrilling tug that goes to your very marrow is your reward. Then, angler! ply him skilfully, and deal with him tenderly, “as though you loved him.” Thus, on and on, refreshing yourself from time to time under one of the fine old oaks that adorn this water side, while the music of the stream soothes you with its sweet melody. If accompanied bya brother angler, all the better; here you will compare notes touching your experiences, and of “the fish you might have caught.” There are some losses and disappointments in life anent which speech is use- less; but you moralise about the fish nevertheless, Possibly, a snatch of melody will be interposed, your companion taking up the burden; or queries may be asked concerning the brethren of the angle who passed you during the morning with friendly nod and cheery compliment. Who was the rosy-cheeked angler with slouched hat (covered with casts of flies), rough coat, and superb meerschaum? Ah! he can throw a fly deftly, and tis said he is a rev. Canon of a Cathedral in a great manu- * The very fine pool at the end of the island at the rookery is a most excellent hold for fish. A member of the Association had once a famous catch here, viz.: one small boy. The little fellow had a narrow escape. It was all but over with him, but, fortunately, he was landed, and the joy of the angler when restoring that lad to his widowed mother in the village far surpassed the pleasure afforded by even the heaviest creel of fish. 94 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. facturing city, and well-known for his urbanity and good fellowship. He may be seen wending his way to a certain railway terminus with grave aspect and trim attire; but, once here, away goes the cleric! and out comes the angler. And that other well-built, cheery English- man, who had the fight with the big fish which you helped to land,—know you not who he his? One who de- servedly stands high in the esteem of his profession, and well-known amongst our city’s best men; in all probability he has this morning ministered to both mind and body’s ailments. Heavy be his creel and light his heart! And those other two, surely they are from the big city? Right again—one from Imperial cares relieved, the other from moving a world by his pen. “The best of all good company” meet here; divines, statesmen, philosophers, the professional man, and the honest tradesman. Thus, having refreshed yourself with an angler’s lunch, you make another start with wrist in good trim, and the determination that no more misses shall be yours. Now, also, the fish are settling down steadily to their work, and so you angle on and on, over pools and deeper rapids than before, by rushing currents beneath over- hanging banks, again and again adding to your pannier and losing also many a prize. Angling under the bridge at Haddon, perhaps bright eyes may be watch- ing your movements, and merry criticisms, in which even the jackdaws will seem to participate, may be freely bestowed. Of course you will lean your rod against the yew-tree hedge, and rest a moment at the old cottage under the ivy-covered porch, where a last rose may be still THE DERBY SHIRE WYE. 95 blooming. And you will taste the cup of barley wine, and afterwards angle on until the day is declining and your last fish is taken near Vernon’s embattled towers, now gilded by the beams of the western sun. And as you gaze upon the hills, you will pleasantly remember that they are the barriers that hide the classic Dove, whose stream Cotton, the father of us fly fishers and old Izaak’s dearest friend, fished, and you will be thankful for another good day, feeling the truth of our master’s saying, that “God never did make a more calm, quiet, and innocent recreation than angling.” Several peculiarities of this water have arrested my attention. Firstly, with reference to fishing up and down stream. Why it is, I do not know, but fishing down stream, throwing long and fine lines, seems to be the right mode on the Wye, so far as grayling are concerned. My experience is certainly in favour of this mode, and I have conversed with old fishermen whose experience corroborates mine. Is it that the unusual clearness of the water and the keen sight of these fish require that the angler should use a long line? Is it not possible also that the grayling at times love to take a fly considerably under the water and floating down the stream? I have also wondered again and again why fish do not rise well here, save in clear, low water. It is perfectly surprising to an angler to come across a splendidly clear, though full, high water, and have no sport. Again, the condition that ensures good sport on other streams, namely, when the river is clearing after a flood, seems here to have entirely the reverse effect, no rising taking place at all; 95 ANGLERS’ -EVENINGS. and when, by chance as it were, you do hook a fish, it is basketed without a struggle, as if it were sick, its behaviour resembling that of a trout hooked in mid-winter, or after spawning. The only reason I can suggest is, that it is possible the road-washings which enter the river, and which contain a large quantity ot lime, affect the fish. If the water is in a milky condition, it is indeed a sad state of things for the angler. If this reason be the right one, it will partly account for the fact of the best fishing being when the water is low and clear. Should the fisherman be so unfortunate as to meet with the conditions referred to, he should put on two large bumbles (or, say, the dotterill fly), stand at the head of a deep pool, and sink and work the fly exactly as in fishing for salmon. Possibly these flies have a resemblance to insects creeping on the bottom, and hence tempt a fish ortwo. This isa hint from anold fisherman; I have tried it, and found it to be successful. An October day amongst the grayling may be followed by an October night round the hospitable board of the “Rutland.” The very mention of this calls up visions of delight. What tales of adventure by flood and fell! what fraternal interchange of experiences! While music lends her aid, the calumet of peace is enjoyed, ambrosial pleasures abound, and the spirit of our Father Walton prevails. THE POLLAN. 97 NOTE ON THE GRAYLING AND THE POLLAN. BY HENRY SIMPSON, M.D. The author of the foregoing paper having had his attention called to the large quantities of so-called ‘‘ grayling’ which appear on the slabs of the Manchester fish-dealers in the autumn, was at first under the impression that these fish came out of the Derbyshire rivers, and was consequently some- what alarmed with regard to the prospects of his favourite sport on the Wye and kindred streams. Further inquiries, however, elicited the fact that the ‘‘grayling ” of the fishmongers are obtained from Loch Neagh in Ireland. Specimens of the fish in question were obtained from the Fish Market, the dealer admitting that they were ‘‘pollan” or ‘‘powan” in Ireland, but ‘‘grayling” in Manchester. Specimens of the Bakewell grayling were also obtained, and likewise a fine grayling caught in the Dee by Mr. Eaton, and the whole were submitted to Dr. Simpson, who furnished the following note on the subject :— ““There is a certain amount of superficial resemblance in the silvery look of the pollan to the colours of the grayling ; but it is not borne out by close inspection. The scales of the pollan have not the glistening nacreous sheen of those of the grayling, and they are browner—as if sprinkled over with brown dust. The pattern formed by the coalescence of adjoining scales is different in the two, and the lines along the side are more distinct in the grayling than in the pollan. The latter has not the pear-shaped, or, rather, perhaps, the lozenge-shaped eye of the former, nor the large and very remarkable dorsal fin which distinguishes the grayling. Both belong to the Salmonide, and posses therefore the small adipose fin ; but while one is of the genus Sa/mo, the other belongs to the genus Coregonus. One takes various baits and the fly boldly, while the other, so far as I know, is only obtained by netting. One is a river and the other is a lake fish, and both are well worth cooking. No doubt many of the members of the Association have noticed the extreme brittleness of the grayling as compared with the trout if the neck be broken on taking them out of the landing-net.” FISH OUT OF WATER. BY CRABSTICK. WAS, one May, spending the week I have hitherto been fortunate enough to get for the spring fishing, at Crook, by the Tweed, with three old friends—Selborne, Dunn, and Black. We were, except Selborne, hard-working anglers, doing our work with a will, and giving as good an account of ourselves at the day’s end as here and there one. Selborne we chaff, and say he is lazy, though we know that is not the word that describes him, for when we return at night, with baskets laden as best we have been able to lead them, has he an empty creel? How many a botanic pgize, that our otherwise-occupied eyes have overlooked, does he not haul admiringly forth! How many winged creatures, that have been invisible to us, do his bottles not contain! How many pebbles, in which his eye sees beauties unknown to us, as his tongue recounts them in language to which we know no approach, has he not brought home! How many birds has he not observed, how many animals watched ?, Nay, how many things Selborne has done that we have not done, let us no further enquire. I only know that at night, though his creel is the lightest, his heart is probably the happiest, and his head the wisest, FISH OCT OF WATER. 99 Well, on the evening in question we are all seated in the cheerful coffee-room at Crook, anxiously waiting the advent of our dinner, when two “objects,” about the last to be looked for here, are observed on the highroad, slowly sauntering hitherward. “Good gracious!” cries Dunn, “two swells, as I live.” It was true, they weve swells, of the first water, and as our dinner comes in they enter the room. They have velvet cut-away coats, faultless trousers, patent boots, spotless linen, sparkling rings, whiskers, and mustachios—the latter trimmed to the utmost nicety—and hair carefully arranged with a straight, clear parting running from the middle of the forehead to the back of the neck. One is dark and the other fair, but both have the touch-me-not air which, as a well-known and illustrious author says, “is more easily imagined than described.” How intolerably mean and shabby did my rough frieze jacket and my long stock- ings feel! How I hid the latter away, like the mean sneak I felt myself to be, at the sight of those faultless breeches! All of us seemed, like Adam and Eve, to have become suddenly aware of our nakedness; but we soon rallied, and after the soup had disappeared, brave old Selborne even ventured a remark on the weather, and succeeded in getting a somewhat indignant reply from one of the two whiskerandos. Nothing daunted, he plied them again, and by the pastry came had made such progress, that he positively asked them if they had come there “a-fishing.” At this question I blushed my deepest red, Dunn put his napkin to his face, and Black opened eyes and mouth in amazement. Fancy these exquisites TOO ANGLERS EVENINGS. come a-fishing! It is poor, rough, common people like ourselves who go fishing, not pomatumed and perfumed tailors’ models like these. Poor silly Selborne, we did not take you for such an ignoramus; you might as well ask if they have come butterfly-catching like yourself. Selborne got no answer,—how was it to be expected he would?—but seeing a hesitancy in the aspect of the darker swell, he asked, regardless of our digs under the table and our winks and gestures above it, ifthey were fond of fishing. “ Yaas, vewy,” said one, and they sauntered out of the room as magnificently as they had entered it. “I knew they had come here to fish,” said Selborne, triumphantly ; but ze knew better, and that they had only made this answer to get rid of his importunity. ‘Well, you'll see to-morrow,” said Selborne, “who’s right”; and then we dismissed the swells from our minds, and fell into the pleasant conversation that is only to be heard at an anglers’ inn. Next day we were out early, as usual, but Selborne said he would wait about a bit ; and wait he did, till the noble swells descended, or condescended, I might say, to take their breakfasts. Then Selborne, with his book, sat him down on the low stone wall in front of the door, under the shade of the trees which were just coming into leaf. At about eleven, our velveteens appeared, arrayed as yester- day, more gorgeous than Solomon in all his glory. Rods were produced (they were really going fishing), all glit- tering with brass and varnish, and Selborne says (and he is to be believed) eighteen feet long at the least, and of the description labelled in shop windows, “ general rods,” FES COL Of WATER. 101 Reels and lines come next, and there is a discussion what is to be done with them, but at last, after many tries, they are fixed in their places,and the lines run through the rings. Then come—what? Hair lines? No. Flies? No. Long gut casts? No; floaters! floaters painted green and white! ! This was too much for poor Selborne, and with a howl of despair, he seized his own rod, which was leaning against the porch, and rushed down to the river. At night, Whisker & Co. were in the same faultless dresses, but their spirits seemed somewhat damped. “ Well, how - have you gone on?” said Selborne, “ much sport?” “ Aw, we've done pretty well; we’ve sent our fish off to London.” “Have you really, now? How did you get it all carried ?” was the reply. This was too much, and with a savage gesture, and something that sounded like “ low fellows,” our gentlemen walked away. We saw no more of them, They didnot enter the room again that night, and we were out long before they came down the next morning; but when we returned, we learned that they had followed their fish. ANGLING IN THE IRWEEL: A RECORD OF MEMORIES AND HOPES. BY EDWARD CORBETT. garea|lS sixty years” since, when in my early days, ( @| the idea of railway travelling yet undeveloped and the fouling of streams comparatively infrequent, my angling facilities were limited to a few ponds near home, where, with frequent catches of the beautiful stickle-back, or Jacksharp, we had an occasional prize in the form of a dace, or a Prussian carp perhaps two ounces in weight. The report of such a catch was sure to bring a gang of fishers to that pond. As to river fishing in those bye-gone times, it was what salmon fishing is now to the trout fishers of Manchester, a thing to be thought of, and possibly to be had some day. The Bolton canal was a stage in advance of the pond fishing. Ihave seen a row of ten or twelve men within easy-speaking distance, each earnestly watching his three or four rods with hair lines and quill floats; one of them perhaps with a silk line and two lengths of a very superior and costly article called gut atthe end. These with wasp- bait, or worm, or maggot (gentles we did not know), were successful in catching a few dace, gudgeon, and eels. ANGLING IN THE [RWELL, 103 But old traditions of some ten or twenty years then gone, told of good fishing in the Irwell. We heard of the time when fine salmon were caught opposite the New but a vanished structure,—and we were told of many trout and other Bailey—itself now no longer “new, fine fish that had been common. Fisherman’s Rock in Hulme had its history of wonderful catches. But all these accounts were for a time—say about the years 1820-22—tales of what had been before the gas-waste was put into the river. About the year 1819 I have, from the New Bailey Bridge (now called Albert Bridge), watched the fish on the shoals at the lower sides of the piers, and seen innumerable fish both there and at the packet station near the old Barracks (then opposite the New Bailey). These were chiefly gudgeon; but other fish were seen rising to flies,—and so numerous were the flies that the air was lively with swallows and house-martins ; and the “Old Quay boys” used to stand on the bridge and whip them down, with a long, heavy, short-handled whip, adroitly throwing the lash so as to kill the poor birds. It was a favourite amusement for us to count the swallows’ nests along the Salford Crescent, and there were two or more in every window of the cotton mill at the river side opposite the New Bailey. There are no nests there now to be counted. Some ingenious man found out that gas-tar would make a cheap black paint, and instead of its being put in the river it began to find a use, and by-and-by was actually sold for money—a great result in those days. 104 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. I have seen the river so covered with gas-tar (the varying tints of which were somewhat admired as they passed) that no real water-surface could be seen. But we heard of the offence given by this tar to the once famous Warrington salmon, and to the sparlings which used to be brought thence. These fish became scarce, as the use of the new light caused increasing defilement, and ultimately they disappeared. The demand for gas-tar was not equal to the supply, and, therefore, a larger quantity of gas-refuse was put in the river—gas-tar, gas-lime, ammonia water and all, went in. About 1824-6, gas-tar ceased to be an unsaleable article, the river was less polluted, and the fish began to show (especially above town). We school-boys spent part of our holiday times in going up the river from Pendleton, and trying various favourite spots with carefully prepared bait; and generally we were so far successful as to bring home from six to twenty fish for two of us. We usually went in pairs, furnished with - maggots by Robert Ackerly, of Hope Tower, Salford, and with lines and hooks by Peter Sharratt, Postmaster, Windsor Bridge. One favourite spot was half way between Douglas Mill and Agecroft Bridge, where the water from certain works came into the river from the Bolton canal. Here we generally caught one or two “shoalers.” These shoalers I believe to be the “graining.” They area fine fish of good flavour, like a herring in size, form, and colour, and not so broad as a dace, nor so thick as a chub. They are described in Webster's ANGLING IN THE [RWELL. 105 Dictionary as “Graining (Leuctscus Lancastriensis), a small fish found in England and Switzerland.” We caught them in the rapids generally; the Clifton Aqueduct, the channels in the rocks for half a mile above, and the outfall of sundry tunnels from coal mines and other places, being favourite spots. We often caught dace and chub, but seldom large ones. The beautiful reaches of river beginning with the approaches from Pendleton by the footpath from Brindle Heath, near Douglas Mill weir, with the high lands of Irlam’s-o’th’-Height on the left, the sweep of Scar Wheel on the right, and the ancient racecourse site and buildings at Kersal Moor above; the broad quiet river before and the footpath through the meadows to Agecroft Bridge, mantled with ivy; steep rocks with trees on the eastern bank, forming a back-ground to the picturesque Kersal Cell, with its broad meadows; the whole crowned by the woods of Prestwich and the high lands of Stand ; these form a picture fresh on the retina of memory, though more than fifty years have passed since it was first, and frequently presented to me in all the varied tints of the season. The yew trees of Kersall Cell grounds, budding all over with their spring shoots of light green, backed by the older foliage, gave me my earliest ideas of the beauty of these evergreens. I had only seen them in their darker tints. It was only then that I began to find that not only yews, but many other ever- greens, had more than one tintand more than one aspect in the varying seasons. Agecroft Bridge was then a favourite study for painters, 106 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. and the bridge was one well worth seeing either from below or above, from the west bank or from the east, the west bank of the river giving us a different class of prospect from that seen on the east. Broad meadows on the left; noble trees on both banks; the Hall (Irwell House when Squire Drinkwater lived) ; and the hill-sides covered with trees. There were no boards about tres- passers to be seen, nor even a notice saying, “This beautiful land on sale for building plots.” Here was the broad rock on which we often spent an hour, and tried it on all sides ; in shallow, in deep, in swift, in slow, in sun or in shade, always with patience and hope, and generally not without some finny prize. A little higher up the stream we had steep rocks for some distance on both sides, and many favourite pools, runs, and shallows in the stream ; and then we came to the Bolton Canal Aqueduct. Above this, for about half-a- mile, we had again many beautiful views ; not much varied except by the trees, the river course being very straight ; but at the half mile, on the western bank, there came a very fitful stream from a tunnel through a steep rock, with a descent of some three or four feet tothe river. In the eddies of this stream, and at its margin, we spent many hours and caught many fish. It was a sort of Rubicon, seldom passed, though sometimes we stretched our courage to go to the famous Ringley Weir. The tunnel was a wonder. Where did the water come from ? Why did it not always come? These, and many similar questions puzzled us. One day, two of us had worked our way from the first rapid at Agecroft to this place. ANGEING IN THE IRWELL. 107 Having had little or no success below, in the numerous places tried, we had made a push to get here. Arrived, we found, instead ofa rushing stream and a foaming waterfall, a mere trickle from the tunnel mouth. It was proposed that as there were no fish to be caught, and no water was in the stream-bed, we should explore the latter. So away we started into the dark tunnel, feeling our way with our bundled-up rods. Step by step we went, in single file, for such a length as seemed to us near a mile, (really nearly a fourth of that distance,) during the major part of which we saw before us a slight gleam of daylight. This itself was a puzzle, as we knew well that we were going towards the high lands of Clifton. We arrived at length at the southern end of the passage, and found ourselves at the bottom of a deep shaft or well, full of curious and inexplicable machinery, made chiefly of oak. Long we looked at it to make out what it meant. Many years afterwards we came to know that it was a means of draw- ing water out of the Clifton coal-mines, the machinery being worked by the water of the river from above Ringley Weir, and the whole having been designed and constructed by the well-known Brindley, the engineer of the then famous aqueduct at Barton-on-Irwell. On that memor- able Saturday afternoon we got a spattering of knowledge of this place, and it came in company with a great rush of water that soon began to flow into the tunnel by which we had arrived. We, of course, beat a retreat, going back more rapidly than we came; but it took so much time that the water, which had not come to our ankles in our “up journey,” wetted us above the knees during our 108 ANGLERS 2 VENINGS. return. We gladly welcomed the daylight as we arrived at the river side. Four of the six retreated all the way home, frightened, and indisposed to try more fishing. Myself and one companion tackled up again, and before we left caught several fish. The river, in those early days, was seldom seen by us beyond Ringley ; but above, it had many beautiful lengths. All are now marred by some of the many uses to which the river side is devoted. In later years, I have seen many other parts of the river, and certainly few streams have originally been more varied and beautiful than our Irwell and its tributaries. Even at this day, with a little license of omission of shafts, mills, and other works, or by taking the prophetic view of some eminent men and replacing the above- named objects with broken walls, ivy-covered roofs and shafts, with other such poetic arrangements ; and improv- ing off the rocks and trees the perpetually recurring grime of continual smoke, clothing the dead branches with verdure, and putting in a few anglers fly-fishing, the lover of the picturesque may yet find miles of beauty full of precious “bits,” or broadening into grand views of lake, river, and mountain. We call the lakes “razzervoirs,” and the mountains are “nobbut hills,” while the river itself is but an open drain; yet ina ten miles’ walk from Manchester to Bolton (by river nearly twenty miles), or in a five miles’ walk by the brook-side above Bolton to Turton, or by Wayoh and Bradshaw Brook to Entwistle, or from Prestolee to Bury, or from Bury to Haslingden, or branching off towards Tottington to Holcombe, or from ANGLING IN THE TRWELL. 109 Rochdale up the valley by river instead of by rail to Shawforth, or along others of the numerous tributaries, - the artist may find such combinations of river, road, rock, and ruin, with back-grounds of hills and trees, as will give him years of work for his pencil. With such skill as an architect is required to apply in restoring a ruined old cathedral or monastery, he might paint back the views and produce a Lancashire of a century ago, or possibly a century hence, styling the picture “View on the Irwell, 1780” or “ 1980,” according to his fancy. The river and itstributaries are really yet worth exploring, even in search of the picturesque, and many a fall, and turn, and rapid, give such views as only require the conversion of the stream itself to purity to become eminently pleasing. This chief defect, the impurity of the water, is, however, now so perceptible, not only to the eye but also to the nose, that it would be advisable for our seekers of pleasure in this district to provide themselves with some of the preparations of carbolic acid, or with some other good antiseptic, before inhaling for any length of time the odours of these tributaries. It has not been my fortune to explore the banks of the Dead Sea, but a sad sight it must be if it exceeds in deadness the sight I once had of the Irwell when engaged on professional work. I had to go in a row-boat from ” Manchester to Runcorn by river, or by “cut” where the navigation is shortened by canals; all along there was evidence of the direful effects of the poiluted condition of the stream. There was scarcely a blade of grass or a bunch of rushes near the river itself; and only such trees 110 ANGLERS EVENINGS. as were high enough above its banks to keep most of their roots out of its reach, and luckily so placed as not to be destroyed at the top by chemical fumes, had preserved their leaves and lives. Excepting these, a very few rats, and now and then a melancholy-looking sandpiper, who, no doubt, kept to the river side, not from choice but from family tradition, with an occasional lock-gate keeper, and those few others of the genus /omo and genus equus who earned their living in connection with the navigation, there was not a thing with life to be seen. Indeed the navigation itself is almost destroyed by the persistent river pollution, so many tons of rubbish being put in, that the dredging is a very serious and almost overbearing cost. One of our greatest treats in my boy-days was to walk down to Mode-Whee? lock, there to meet the packet-boat, sail down to Warrington or Runcorn, and buy some Eccles cakes at Warrington. Returning by the boat the same day was sometimes practicable, but more frequently we had to return by one of the Liverpool coaches, which placed us nearer home at Pendleton. On these packet-boat journeys we always, or nearly always, disturbed some angler who was fishing from the towing-path; though, of course, fishers were more numerous on the bank where they were not likely to be disturbed. It would require many journeys now to find one man fishing in this stream. Even the mouth of Glaze Brook, once famous for its bream, has lost its prestige; and only the Mersey and Bollin retain at their outfalls sufficient purity to keep eels and gudgeons alive. About 1825 I became acquainted with practical fly- ANGLING IN THE IRWELL. DUI fishing, and made flies that caught fish. They were ~ generally a sort of hackle, made of a starling’s breast- feather, with a body usually of black silk, but occasionally a little scarlet wool. The first knowledge I had of the effect of this wonderful art of fly-fishing was on seeing a man with two flies, at work where a stream was coming into the Irwell, about one hundred yards below Agecroft Bridge. He caught almost at every throw, and often brought two fish to his basket. He caught some forty while I stood by, and told me he had over a hundred ; they were about two ounces each in weight—shoalers, dace, roach, and a few chubs. Of course I was converted to fly-fishing, but I generally kept a reserve of requisites for bottom-fishing, and pursued my way, with or without one or more companions, as far as Ringley Weir-hole. There we generally caught some fish, and at sundry places on the way we had more or less success; often bringing home ten or twelve fine fish, either graining, chub, or dace ; occasionally only gudgeons and minnows, When the others would not rise, and we had to try the bottom, we did not refuse the loach. Sometimes we got an eel, and sometimes a perch. I have often seen the bottom-fishers with a good lot of eels; and once I remember a man showing me a fish which, from memory, I estimate to have been about three or four pounds weight ; I think it must have been a bream, but its silvery-white scales looked too bright for that dull fish. The scales were large-sized, and the man called it a salmon; I did not, but it was a fine fish, and he had caught it in Ringley Weir-hole, within an hour of my seeing it. I went to Ringley Weir-hole 112 ANGLERS EVENINGS. at once, and after a patient trial of about two hours, was rewarded by a settled conviction that there was not another fish like the one in question left, and that it must have eaten all the little ones. Yet it was not a pike, or a trout, or a grayling ; it may have been a chub, The last time I went to try the upper part of the Irwell I saw the only pike I ever saw in that river. It was about twenty yards below Agecroft Bridge, and I was on a small island of sandy gravel. The fish was about the size of a herring, and swam round me, looking as if it was seeking food. I caught no fish that day. I think it would be about the year 1830. I had before this fished and caught fish in some other streams, notably the Irk at Crumpsall and Blackley, the Medlock at Ardwick, and the Derwent at Rowsley. Ona day kept asa féte day on account of the passing of the Reform Bill, some time late in 1832, I went with a companion to fish in the Mersey below Irlam. We caught very few fish; but we saw some ten or twelve men at various favourite holes, each of them with a good dish of fish beside him, some twelve to twenty in number, very uniform in size, and mostly dace about as big as herrings. This is the last of my remembrance of fishing in the Irwell, but I had previously seen and caught fish at Mode- Wheel mill-tail, at the Crescent, Salford, the weir below the Crescent, and various other places. Perhaps about 1828 I saw a man catch a trout nearly two pounds weight at the mill tail below the Crescent, Salford, and I once met a man with six trout caught in the Irwell, at the foot of a small streamlet near Kersal Moor; but I never ANGLING IN THE IRWELL. 113 caught a trout in the river myself. I knew by sight an old man who got his living (according to his own account) by fishing in the streams around Manchester. I once saw him at Agecroft, fishing above the bridge, and he had two or three eels. I had some confidential talk with him and found that his basket was more frequently weighted with hares and rabbits than with fish, and that fishing was with him only a cloak for poaching. About the year 1840a salmon was caught, nearly dead, above Warrington ; it was about eighteen pounds weight. The latest Irwell fishing I have known was about 1850, when some people used to fish in Peel Park. They caught some fish, but I do not know the species. And now for the future of the Irwell. There have been put into it, as refuse, several materials which, with the progress of science and invention, have been found capable of better uses, and of these I will name a few. Gas-tar was put in ; it now sells for thousands of pounds per annum, and forms the basis of many important trades. Ammonia-water was so wasted, and it is now sold andused. Gas lime was also freely put in the river before a better use was found for it. Cotton waste was put in, I have seen the river white with this material ; we have now a group of traders called cotton waste dealers, who have an Exchange of their own. Dye stuffs have been redeemed from waste to a large extent, but they yet form a great portion of the river’s pollution. Soap has been very largely put in, and in some cases profitably kept out and converted into fine tallow candles and alkalies. Metallic and chemical refuse, coal, ashes, and cinders are yet I 114 ANGLERS EVENINGS. thrown into the river. And last, though not least, the valuable article called sewage is still put into the river, to an extent causing a loss, in my belief, of more than a million pounds a year to South Lancashire. At Wrexham, and many other places, it yields a clear profit to the sewage farm of more than £10 per acre per year. The increase in the revenue of land so improved in South Lancashire, to the extent of twenty miles by twelve, would exceed a million a-year, and the sewage of the town would improve such an area very materially, without nuisance from over-irrigation. Science has so far advanced as to show that it is profitable to keep sewage out of the rivers, and legislation mast proceed to prevent the abuse of the water-ways of the country. Then we may hope that the Irwell will again be a bright stream with trout and other fish init, swallows and other birds over it, patient anglers not disappointed of sport beside it, and the poisoned area along the whole length of the stream restored to its original atmospheric purity. Smoke may be as effectually done away with as other wastes have been. Then we may hope also for other improvements not so remotely connected with these as may at first sight appear; and as the filthy gas-tar has given us the beautiful aniline colours and the valuable carbolic acid, so other wastes may be utilized, until every- thing is put to its best use; and finally, through the operation of the much-despised utilitarianism and trades’ profits, we may arrive at the highest attainable pitch of civilization, when our towns will be lively with vegetation, our streams replete with fish, the air resounding with ANGLING IN THE [RWELL. I15 birds, and ourselves living well-spent lives in a well- governed country. These thoughts of ancient and of future times, Rouse my old fancy till I think in rhymes. Great changes have been, since my boyhood’s days ! Oil lamps and candles gave our brightest blaze ! Wells, pumps, and running brooks gave water clear! Baths, little known, town’s water scarce and dear, Coaches and packet-boats our locomotion On roads and rivers, sailing ships on ocean, Our news from Hamburgh taking weeks to come, East and West Indies full six months from home! Changes may come ; our streams be all reformed, Our lights electric, every house well warmed, Our towns all smokeless, and a nation freed From soot and dust the “great unwashed ” succeed ! Our hills and mountains’ beauteous lakes and streams, Be rills and fountains fit for poets’ dreams! Some time ago, twas about “forty-four,” When my dear father’s age had reached four score, I said, “If my life should extend to eighty, I hope to catch a trout, or small or weighty, In Irwell, *twixt the Bank Mill and Mode-Wheel, In a pure river, where 'twould spin my reel.” I live, and have lived, in an age of wonders, Each one arrived at through a stage of blunders. 116 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. Our once pure Irwell, now a stream of ink, Is one black blunder which should make us think. Science must work, when carelessness is rife, And change each foulness to a spring of life. The filthy gas-tar now has glorious sheens, In dyes of beauty, classed as anilines ; Gas lime now brings to lands increased fertility, And, turned to grass and milk, has gained utility ; Ceased from its waste as poison to our fishes, It makes the grass grow as a farmer wishes. The refuse yet to be reclaimed is sewage, Which we may hope in this, or some near new age, Will prove an increase to our farmers’ crops, A profit to our towns, and in our shops, Ourselves or our successors soon may find it In some new form, on counter or behind it. Town’s refuse is a large and nauseous thing, Containing elements that ought to bring Wealth to our people, plenty to our fields, (Bricks, mortar, and cement it also yields) ; Eau de Cologne may fail, and folks prefer well Some grand new perfume, perhaps an Eau de Irwell! And when the rainfalls pass from hill to sea Along a course from all things foul made free, We then may find our inky, stinky river “A thing of beauty and a joy for ever,” WATER ANAL VSES, Hr. NOTE ON THE CHEMICAL CONSTITUTION OF FISHING WATERS, AND OF THE IRWELL. BY CHARLES ESTCOURT, F.1.C., E.C.S- Believing the subject to be of considerable importance, not merely as indicating the effect of purity as contrasted with impurity in our rivers and streams, but also in connection with the natural history of fish, I have undertaken for the Association a series of analyses of famous or well-known fishing waters. As the Association hasa sort of proprietary right in one river (the Dovey), I have begun operations with that river. Two samples were taken from it on the same day (September 10), and within twenty minutes of each other at the same spot, just below Dinas Mawddy. They presented the following difference in constitution, caused by the fact that the river was clean and low when the first sample was taken, and that, owing to a sudden thunder storm, it had become milky white, and had risen three inches when the second was procured. DOVEY. BEFORE AFTER RAIN. RAIN. Grains per gallon. Total solid matter........ saeeesies Saee60000832008 ZO Selo Mineral Matten-cc.ns.es0s»9 The fun’s sae gran’, TE RA TD: 209 Each man in turn then had his cast, An’ aye the ither troot got fast Upon the line, and then were past Right in the creel ; And there they kickt and leapt their last, For lang and weel. The sun at length got roun’ the hill, The air it changt, got rather chill, They stopped and counted up their kill — Just ninety-eight ; Then oot the boat and owre the hill, For hame made straight. ST. BOSWELLS AND THE TWEED. BY HENRY VANNAN, M.A. ar TIE village of St. Boswells, in the northern end of the county of Roxburghshire, is beautifully situated in a district where every stream, and tower, and hill have been rendered classic by the pen of the great Sir Walter. Its approach from the south is by what is appropriately known as the Waverley route of the North British Railway. The station at which the traveller is set down is Newtown, St. Boswells, a thriving little modern village, which has attained some degree of importance since the introduction of the auction system in the sale of cattle. Here there are two or three of the largest auction marts in Scotland, and some large annual fairs are held in the neighbourhood. St. Boswells proper, however, or, as it was anciently called Lessudden, lies about two miles from the railway station, and close to the right bank of the Tweed. Previously to 1876 I made two or three annual visits to this quarter, staying about five or six weeks each time,—generally from about the beginning of August to the middle of September. Before this I had frequently fished the Tweed at Peebles and Innerleithen, but I was ignorant of its character here, until my attention was directed to it by a brother angler, é ST. BOSWELES. 211 who warmly recommended St. Boswells, not only for good and varied trout-fishing, but for the intensely interesting nature of its situation and surroundings. From my own subsequent experience, I also can recommend it to anyone in search of a quiet and beautiful spot wherein to exercise to his heart’s content all the subtle deceptions of what has been called, with, I always think, a slight tinge of the sarcastic, “the gentle art.” Gentle it may be legitimately termed, but there are anglers, and anglers. Amidst the multitude who come under this designation, there are hundreds whose prin- ciples, and practice, are directly opposed to anything entitled to the name of gentleness. To see a regiment of native “artists” in a row upon some river, at the rise of the flood (times and again have I seen such a sight) with worms like moderately-sized eels, and rods and tackle of corresponding proportions, dragging, what they wz/ describe as “great lumps of fish,’ from the water, over their heads, with a bang against the wall behind them ; or switching the prey by main force, zz summis arboribus, to wriggle and dangle as if suffering the last penalty of the law—this is an exception to the gentleness alluded to, either in respect to craft or craftsmen. I have always believed (and wherever it is practicable, I act upon the belief) that the angler has quite sufficient exercise for his arms and legs at the river-side, and in plying his vocation for the time being, without having superadded to this a long and toilsome walk to and from his fishing ground. Indeed, one’s basket often suffers in 272 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. consequence of the physical energy that should have been expended in keeping the hands acutely sensitive to the slightest touch upon the line, and the eye quick to note the smallest sign denoting the presence of a fish, having been previously dissipated in a rough walk over the hill, possibly keeping up with some gillie or gamekeeper, who strides over the ground very much as if his nether extremities were made of jointed cast-iron. It has invariably been my experience that, when fatigued, my fishing has been careless, and consequently unproduc- tive. One of the great advantages of St. Boswells is its proximity to the water. You can always put on your wading gear at home; and, for that matter, put up your rod too. Indeed, I have known some who kept their rods up for weeks together. This I much object to. It is a little trouble, perhaps, at the end of the day’s work to take down your rod, lovingly straighten out the pieces, and deposit them safely in the bag ; when, seeing that you will be on the water bright and early next morning, you could have saved the trouble by leaning it against the outhouse in the garden, or leaving it lengthwise in the lobby. But, not to mention the risk of having the rod broken, a week or two of this treatment will do it more harm than a whole season’s work on the other plan. A rod, after a day’s fishing with minnow, for instance, and more or less with any lure, takes a particular bend, and if not taken to pieces and carefully straightened, is sure to grow twisted and useless. About the middle of the village of St. Boswells, a road leads down to the Dryburgh Ford, and the angler ST. BOSWELELS. 213 cannot do better then begin work at what is locally known as Brockie’s Hole. By this name there hangs, or rather there hung, a “veritable tail.” It is related that upon one occasion a farmer of the name of Brockie, while in a state of intoxication, rode his horse into the river here, at a time when it was in full flood, and “roaring from bank to brae.” The poor animal at once lost its footing, and its rider his seat, both, in consequence of the deepness of the water, being in a moment plunged overhead. The horse soon came to the surface, and boldly struck out for the opposite bank ; not, however, before the farmer, with the instinctive energy of a drowning man, had clutched the object nearest him, which, fortunately, happened to be the horse’s tail. To this he tenaciously clung and was towed in safety by the noble creature to the Dryburgh side of the river,—a sadder, but we may well believe, a wiser and more sober man. A huge mass of rock projects into the river at this point, and is indeed the cause of the pool; and the deep, dark, still water affords a fine quiet harbour for the fish after struggling with the current outside, which runs very strongly. I have known of fish being landed here of five and seven pounds weight, but I imagine they were bull-trout. If the angler object to fishing down stream, he had better walk on as far as Mertoun Bridge and fish his way back. In the main I agree with Stewart as to fishing up stream ; but I do not hold to the opinion so tenaciously as he does ; and what trifling experience I have had of angling as a scientific pursuit, leads te the conclusion that 214 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. it is very unsafe to dogmatise on the subject at all. Fish—trout especially—are such maggoty creatures (if I may be allowed the use of this expression in its secondary meaning), that they will insist by their conduct upon a large number of exceptions to most rules you can lay down for them. In the broad general principle that, in consequence of their being very sharp-eyed, it is better to keep out of sight, I am a thorough believer; and _ if it were equally convenient upon all occasions, in the case at least of a burn, I should certainly always fish up. But circumstances may interfere. Fishing up, for instance, may take us away from our train, when fishing down would land us at the station justat the proper time. But even though the angler may find it more convenient to fish down than up on some occasions, there is no reason why he should do what Stewart tells us some of his disciples were guilty of, while all the time they fancied they were following implicitly the precepts of his book. He says :— ““We have met anglers fishing down stream—and this is no sup- positious case, but one which we have seen over and over again—with a copy of this volume (the Practical Angler) in their pockets, who complained that they had got everything herein recommended, and were getting no sport. On pointing out to them that there was one important mistake they were committing in fishing down stream instead of up, they stated that when they came to a pool they fished it up—that is to say, they first walked down the pool and showed themselves to the trout, and then commenced to fish for them.” These were certainly very ignorant anglers; but the fault lay, not so much in fishing down as in fishing after being in full view of the trout. For the most part, perhaps, SaaS MEELIS. 215 there is less chance of being seen in fishing up than in fishing down; but then, no matter how it comes about, if the fish see the angler, the same undesirable result will follow. Were it impossible for the angler to conceal himself when fishing down stream, the result would be that he would take nothing; and doubtless a better method would be discovered. But every angler of any experience knows that this is not so; and I venture to say that a fisher, when he is supposably out of range of the vision of the trout, can acquaint himself generally with the nature of the water he is coming to, in fishing down, as well as one coming up at an equal distance on the other side. Then, surely, it is an easy matter to skirt the water at the lower end of pool or stream and fish up. Besides this, the careful and successful down-stream angler, whose first article of belief is to have the best of tackle, and his second, to keep out of sight, will studiously take advantage of every tree or bush that can in the least degree afford concealment, and fish with a longer rod where there is no natural cover. As, when fishing, whether I walk up or down stream, I invariably cast in one way, viz., across, and a little up, it comes much to the same thing, provided I can keep out of sight as well the one way as the other. I make these remarks in connection with trout-fishing in comparatively small streams, and where the necessity for wading is not great: the conditions affecting a large river are somewhat different. In fishing such a river as the Tweed, and standing in a strong current at a depth of three feet or more, wading up stream is, to my thinking, 216 ANGLES EViLNINGS. absurd. Provided you have a good body of water, and can cast a good line, you may fish down with as much success as if you went in the opposite direction. What I contend for most strongly is, the necessity for keeping out of sight. Trout will not take the lure, fish how you may, if previously they have seen the apparition of an angler on the bank. If the shadow of your rod be thrown on the water, you must at once change your side, or fishing will be useless. To keep in the shade, everyone who wishes to be successful finds it necessary to kneel, creep, crawl, or sit collier-fashion, as the occasion demands. The fishing from the village of St. Boswells to what is called the “Long stream ” inclusive, ranges over a piece of most excellent water. The banks are like all the banks of the Tweed with which I am acquainted, soft and grassy, and pleasant to fish from; and here, when the river is moderately full, there is not much occasion to wade. Still, I would advise the angler in this district, at all ordinary times, to encase himself in his stockings, otherwise he may lose a deal of good water. We have taken some nice trout in this reach of the Tweed, notably one very fine fish which weighed some- thing over two pounds, at a time when the water was spent to a shadow, and not a fish worth mentioning had been taken for weeks. I caught it late one evening, with the finest gut cast I had in my possession, and a very small teal drake, with a black hackle—a favourite fly, which I find very deadly at all seasons, and which, with the occasional variation of the red instead of the black hackle, forms one of the flies of nearly every cast I SLY BOS WELLS: 217 fish with. I remember this individual fish well, the more by token that it was a Saturday night when I caught it, and knowing that a two-pound Tweed trout in good condition makes an excellent repast, 1 looked forward hopefully to the morrow. But, alas! my landlady, whatever else she was, was no cook ; and she brought in the fish to breakfast so much wzderdone, that after one or two mouthfuls I gave it up in disgust. Talking of the cooking of fish reminds one of good old Izaak and his quaint and appetite-provoking recipes. I think also of former fishing days spent upon the Aberdeenshire Don, famous for its yellow trout. There, I had the advantage of a landlady, who, as far as trout were concerned, might have been cook to a prince. I remember well her smoking dishes of beautifully-done trout and whitling. Her method was to split the fish down the back: hence in the case of large fish there was every chance that they got well cooked. My recollections of fishing days at St. Boswells are very pleasantly associated with a most remarkable angler, resident in the village—William Rankin by name. This man was born and brought up there, and travelled about a good deal in early life. Upwards of thirty years ago, while in London, he lost his sight through small pox, and after that sad misfortune he returned to his native spot, where he still lives. Naturally shrewd and intelligent on all ordinary topics, he is quite an authority on angling and its accessories ; for, notwithstanding his blindness, he is one of the most successful fishers on the Tweed. He can make all kinds of tackle, and fish with fly or bait equally 218 ANGLE RS: EVENINGS. well; but his favourite lure is the natural minnow. I have never seen this used with such deadly effect as in his hands. He knows every inch of the ground, and walks into the water as fearlessly as if he saw. On my first visit, I practised worm more than minnow-fishing, and I have fished with him for a day when the water has been in good condition—he with minnow and I with worm— but our baskets would never compare, though mine might not be altogether empty. From twenty to thirty pounds is quite a common weight of fish for him to carry home as’ the product of one day’s fishing; and that in a part of the river, say within a mile or two of St. Boswells, where it is necessarily very much fished. But then the water must be in perfect ply for the minnow, and other circumstances must be favourable. His most successful time is when the flood is falling, and the river assumes that deep-black, and yet clear colour, which all anglers love so well. He informed me that, during the spring of the present year (1879), on two successive days in April, he killed with artifical minnow, nine sea-trout, and two or three river- trout, the total weight being thirty-six pounds. On one occasion, with flies of his own tying, he took out of one stream in the Tweed ten trout, weighing seven and a quarter pounds; on another, below Mertoun Bridge, he hooked with fly eight sea-trout, five of which he landed. He now prefers minnow-fishing, because he can make heavier baskets. During two days’ salmon- fishing, at the close of November, 1877, he killed on the first day three salmon, weighing twenty-two, thirteen, and ten pounds respectively ; and on the second, two ST. BOSWELLS. 2109 salmon and four sea-trout—the salmon twenty-two and seven pounds each; the largest sea-trout seven pounds, and the smallest three. One would think it very awkward work for such as he to wade ashore and land the fish, and so it would be, and dangerous too; but his plan, unless when he fastens upon a salmon or something very weighty, is not to leave the wateratall. He simply runs the fish a little, then winds it close in, and dexterously seizing it behind the gills, in an incredibly short space has the minnow disgorged, and the captive safely “landed” in his capacious creel. I have often watched him thus skilfully manipulating in deep water, upon a trout of two or three pounds weight, and have thought that few fishers with the best of sight could have managed half so well. Besides being an angler, Rankin is a capital rod- maker. His want of sight seems to be in great part made up to him in the acuteness of his other faculties, especially those of hearing and touch. The latter sense enables him to give a better taper and balance to a rod than nine- tenths of ordinary makers can give, who are guided by their eyesight alone. His rods are perhaps not so elegantly finished in respect of varnishing and fittings as some others ; but in every quality that would recommend them to that sensible individual, “the really practical angler,” they are much in advance of many very expensive articles which I have handled. When first he made the attempt to add to his income in this way, he was not very particular about the finishing ; and on receiving an order from a gentleman-friend for one of his rods, he proposed 220 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. to get him one from a maker better qualified than he was to finish it. To this the gentleman replied, that he was not at all particular about the finish of the rod, provided he could make one to “finish” the trout. After years of patient industry, and with a little external help in the decorative branch, he can now turn out a very nice- looking article indeed, and one that he himself will thoroughly guarantee —in the hands, of course, of a “complete angler’—to “finish” any number of trout. No one can fish the Tweed near St. Boswells without getting to know and like Rankin: he is full of information on all local and piscatorial subjects, and always ready to help and advise those who are strange to the waters. Another local angler is William Younger, son of John Younger, the poet. This man is a capital fly-dresser, and an equally good fly-fisher. I mention him on account of a peculiarity he affects in the arrangement of the flies upon his casting-line. Most fishers, I take it, in making up their cast, would put the largest fly at the tail, and, if the others varied in size, would put the next largest in the position of first dropper, and so on. I speak here of comparatively small flies. Younger’s practice is to reverse this order, retaining the smallest fly for the point hook. I have argued with him that this a mistake, because when the line gets the turn of the wrist and the forward impetus, the point-fly, if the weightiest, will best continue the motion, and take the line out farthest and straightest. I imagine also that the weightiest hook in a cast of three or four being placed highest up the line would render the chances of entanglement much more frequent. He Sl, BOSWELL S. 221 contends that he does not find this to be the case, and that his mode is the most deadly in his experience. His reason is that the point or tail-fly being the most impor- tant and most deadly, falls upon the water by his method in the softest possible way. There is certainly truth here. The point-hook is generally (though by no means invariably) the most attractive, because, being attached to the line, on only one side, it is less artificial-looking than the others. If I find that the trout are taking a fly whose position on the cast is first or second dropper, and neglecting the point-fly, I change the latter for one of those which seems more attractive; as I find that the chances of landing fish on this hook are much greater than upon any of the others. The reason of this is not far to seek. If the angler is fishing with three or four flies on his cast, and*hooks a fish of trifling size on the highest dropper, well and good—he can lightly toss it out. **But should he lure From his dark haunt, beneath the tangled roots Of pendent trees, the monarch of the brook, Behoves him then to ply his finest art.” And truly a very fine art it will then become; for, with six or more feet of gut dangling at the rear of his fish—the loose hooks upon which, by a strange and inexplicable principle of contrariety, seem immediately to awaken to the necessity of fastening upon something, and fasten accordingly—it is a thousand to one the angler loses both his fish and his flies. While admitting the prime importance of dropping the point fly lightly upon the water, I still adhere to my preconceived notion of placing 222°. ANGLERS EVENINGS. the largest fly of the cast in that position on the line. There cannot be a doubt, however, that in such matters of detail, within, of course, the limits of certain well- defined and well-known rules, the angler’s own experience and observation will be his best and safest guide. As regards numbers, I would strongly advocate the course of erring upon the side of safety in having too few, rather than too many hooks ; not necessarily because the sight of a number of flies—if it be true that our aquatic friends really take them for flies—can be such an unusual sight to the fish, but because to the average angler they are a source of frequent annoyance and perplexity. The most skilful and successful angler I ever met with, never used more than a pair. I very seldom fish with more than three. Passing the “ Long stream,” below which the Mertoun water begins, and still fishing down on the right bank, the angler will come to a fine bit of water known as the “Cauld Pool,’ where the current is kept back to supply Mertoun Mill. Between this and Mertoun Bridge there are some capital streams and deep side runs, where fish may always be taken. About a mile and a half below the bridge, is some splendid water running through Lord Polwarth’s estate. At this point the river winds gracefully along, and there is a picturesque view of his lordship’s beautiful residence—Mertoun House. Here the water is preserved, and the trout, in consequence, are more plentiful, and as a rule, larger than above. I had heard glowing accounts in the village of the superiority of the trouting in this particular spot, and was eager to ST. BOSWELLS. 223 try it. Accordingly, I wrote to Lord Polwarth, and received by return of post a most cordial permit which lasted during the period of my stay.* I have always met with the utmost politeness and kindness when I have had occasion, as in this instance, to ask permission for fishing from any nobleman or other proprietor. Liberty to fish would be accorded much more readily than it often is by the riparian owners, were it not for the disgraceful fact that poachers and rowdy-fishers, who carry pots of roe, poke nets, and quicklime, often gain access to the best waters, and in addition to harrying and spoiling the river, damage and break down the fencing. The true-hearted and innocent disciples of Walton suffer for their guilty brethren. I feel sure that every true lover of the sport will agree that one of the main objects all properly organised angling associations should keep steadily in view, is the stamping out of everything like illegal and unfair practices in taking fish. The “honest” angler is a quiet, contemplative, orderly, law-abiding, and thoughtful man — I mean thoughtful in as far as the interests of others are concerned. He is not the one carelessly to leave his friend the farmer’s gate open, after passing through himself, and thus afford free ingress for the eager cattle into the good man’s corn. In crossing the fence or dry-stone dike he is careful not to break it down. Ifthe farmer's furrows * From all I know of his lordship’s kind and generous disposition, I feel pretty sure that no gentleman would be refused the like courtesy. I found this water the most productive of any in the neighbourhood, and I therefore took frequent advantage of my liberty. 224 ANGLERS EVENINGS. come down, as they often do, to the river’s edge, he will, even at considerable personal inconvenience, and it may be loss, as far as sport is concerned, avoid treading down the grain; and this, though there may not be a human being within miles of him. And in his war with the finny tribe, though it is true he uses every artifice, yet no compulsion is ever resorted to, and the ultimate end of the sport is the legitimate one of supplying the table. The angler’s pastime leads him amongst the most elorious and sublime scenes in nature; and he becomes familiar with these under all their ever-varying aspects, in quite another way from the ordinary observer. He sees them in the early morning, ere the sun has dispelled the vapours from the still cloud-capt hills, or dried the elistening dewdrops from the grass: ere the curling smoke has begun to ascend from the distant cot, or the rustic labourer has risen from his lowly couch ; and while yet no sound is heard save the cheerful voices of the birds hymning their matin song of thanksgiving. And again, in another aspect does nature present herself when, at mid-day, he sits down to rest and refresh himself, after the morning toils. Now, thesun has reached his meridian splendour, and all the landscape stands out in the full blaze of the perfect day. The air is laden with the perfume of a thousand wild-flowers ; and every leaf and cranny send forth their myriads of winged inhabitants to dance away their short life in the warm brightness of the summer day. The green hill-sides are clad to their summits with the fleecy flocks, and the oxen wade knee- deep in the rich and verdant meadows. He wanders by SIBOSWELE S. 225 the winding stream or stately-flowing river, and every bend and turn present him with a new and beautiful picture. He stands beside the foaming waterfall, and as he strains his ear to listen to the fancied voices, remembers that he has read somewhere of a voice which is “like the sound of many waters.” Perhaps he threads his way along the bottom of the deep ravine, following the river which elides past—its waters darkened by the tall, overshadowing trees on either side. In this solemn region he listens to the plaintive voice of the wood-pigeon cooing amorously to his mate, and hears the ringing, blythesome song of the mavis, echoing far away from among the topmost branches overhead; and all around him, he sees in sheltered crevices and secure nooks and corners, the richest mosses, the rarest ferns, the tiniest and most beautiful of flowers. And all this, be it observed, is viewed by him while he is diligently plying his legitimate sport. He has not gone to look for the beautiful in nature, but practically it has come to him unsought, and by the way, and for this reason probably, it is all the more enjoyable. Finally, when the twilight shadows, stealing across the western sky, warn our angler that it is time to be going homeward, he counts his fish— mayhap, no difficult task, but he is content; for he has had abundant enjoyment, and he looks forward hopefully to better sport another day, On the title-page of the first edition of Walton’s book, within a quaint and original device, he inscribes the words —“The Compleat Angler; or the Contemplative Man’s Recreation.” To say that Izaak was a shrewd as well as 226 ANGLERS EVENINGS. clever man, is only repeating what has been said a thousand times. Evidently he considered that an angler to be “compleat” must be contemplative. The fisher who thinks of nothing but the slaughter of the finny tribe, and has no eye to see, nor soul to, appreciate the beauty of the scene that surrounds him, is not a man after Izaak’s model, nor worthy of imitation. He certainly is not of the genus “Contemplative,” and the loss is all on his side ; for truly he misses one half of the enjoyment. What true fisher has not glorious scenes of natural beauty photographed, as it were, on his mind, these memories being unaffected by the weight of the basket at the end of the day? The sights and sounds amidst which the angler pursues his harmless recreation elevate and ennoble his mind, furnish material for earnest reflection, and raise his thoughts from the beauty and exuberance of nature to the benignant Author of it all. And such sights and sounds are met with upon the banks of Tweed in sweet profusion. It is not to such men—though not seldom their love of nature is only equalled by their brilliant success—that we are in any degree to attribute the apparent falling away in the numbers of our river-trout, and the increased difficulty we now experience in making a good basket. Independently of the influence which the universal draining of the land has exerted, by causing the sudden rising of heavy floods, which sweep away the spawn, and the food of the fish—the eggs of aquatic insects—there are two causes which I think may fairly be held to account for the change. These are poaching and pollution, In spite of Shy BOSIVELILS: 227 river acts and river bailiffs, it is notorious that in our best streams (I am speaking of the North), illegal practices of the most depopulating character are largely carried on. Netting is one of the most common expedients resorted to. Stewart says :— ‘* The net used is what is usually called the ‘ harry-water net.’ Nets of this kind are made so light that they can be carried in the pocket, and so complete in structure, that a whole pool may be almost cleaned of its finny inhabitants at a single haul. Tweed and its tributaries suffer more from netting than any other streams in Scotland, and it is most usually carried on in the neighbourhood of towns or villages, where the poachers can find a ready sale for their trout.” It is generally agreed that the only radical cure for this evil is watching the rivers ; but this, in consequence of the expense attending it, is seldom so thoroughly carried out as to be efficacious. Pollution is more deadly, certainly more insidious in its effects than even poaching, and more difficult to deal with. Even under a modified form, a decided deterioration in the race, and a falling off in numbers, must inevitably take place. Just as among that unfortunate portion of the human family who live under unhealthy conditions, breathing bad air and not getting proper nourishment, we have disease nearly always prevalent, and deterioration becoming more apparent in every generation ; so that if left to themselves, and not in some degree resuscitated by the infusion of extraneous blood, in course of time they would die out; so, under the conditions at present existing in many of our fishing rivers, were it not for the constant flow of pure water from unvitiated tributaries into the main current, and the introduction of strong, healthy fish from the same sources, 228 ANGLERS EVENINGS. _ the finny race would soon cease to exist in them. The disease which, to such an alarming extent, has affected both the salmon and the river-trout this year (1879), is, I believe, more than probably due to this cause ; and if means be not taken to enforce existing statutes on the subject, or new laws made which shall effectually check pollution, we may live to see our finest streams untenanted by either trout or salmon. Before visiting the Tweed at St. Boswells, I had fished the Don in Aberdeenshire for several seasons in suc- cession, almost exclusively with worm, using what is commonly known as “Stewart tackle.” Whether it was owing to some peculiarity in the river, or the kind of seasons, I cannot say; but I found that the same tactics did not suit the Tweed nearly so well, and as I was generally more successful with the fly, I practised that style of fishing more frequently on the latter river. Stewart, in his Practical Angler, admits either three or four hooks on his worm-tackle. I think anglers will generally find it more advantageous to have three only: more than this number necessitates the use of a larger size of worm, which is decidedly to be eschewed. Were it in any degree a rule that a large trout must havea large bait, this would alter the case. Unfortunately, however, the rule is more frequently—the larger the bait the smaller the fish. I would not like to say that the converse of this is universally true, but I often find that the largest trout are taken with the smallest, pinkest, and most lively worms, possibly, because to them such seem the daintiest morsels; whereas, if one chances upon a w, BOSWELL S. 229 too-large and uninviting bait, and, just to use it up, makes a throw, it is ten to one that it captivates only some “paunchy ” and audacious minnow, or wretched parr. Those anglers who follow Stewart exactly will, in baiting the tackle, pass the hooks quite through the body of the worm, leaving all the three or four points and barbs fully exposed. This, I am afraid, is a mistake. Skilful worm-fishing, as at present practised, is generally carried on in clear water ; consequently, that the deception may be more perfect, it is absolutely necessary to conceal the hooks, at least as far as is possible; otherwise the best fish will be scared away, remaining, after a rapid inspec- tion of the somewhat abnormal-looking reptile, at a safe and respectful distance, and indulging in reflections, the tendency of which will not be to add to the weight of the angler’s creel. Another disadvantage attending Stewart’s method of putting on the worm is the liability to catch upon obstacles, such as stones, weeds, sunken branches, and green slime. To obviate this, the best way is to use a smaller size of hook than that with which the tackle generally to be had in the shops is dressed. At the same time, the worm has to be frequently examined, as there is always a tendency on the part of the hook to work its way into sight. Stewart, who was admittedly a prince among anglers, and whose book, I believe, has done more for the education of the brethren, in all branches of the art, since its first publication in 1857, than any other work which has appeared in the present century, admits “that the exposure of so many hooks is calculated to scare away some trout that would otherwise take the bait.” 230 ANGLERS'’ EVENINGS. The most deadly hook for making the tackle is a small size of sneck-bend, but the great drawback in using it is its liability, with any sudden jerk, to break off at the bend. The round-bend will answer the purpose pretty nearly as well, and is perhaps a safer hook to use. I generally tie them for my own fishing with a smaller size of hook than that in general use, with the lowest a size larger than the upper two, taking care to attach them to long and fine threads of picked gut. The best kind of worm for this size of Stewart tackle is what is known as the marsh worm, which is found in abundance in ordinary garden soil: those should be selected which are about two inches long. They are easily recognised by their pale, bluish colour, though when scoured they become of a beautiful pink. When newly dug, they should be put into a basin of clear cold water, which will cleanse them from any dirt that may adhere to them. A few handfuls of fine moss, from which all impurities have been removed, should then be placed in a jar, after being rinsed through water several times, and well wrung by the hands. On this, when teased out so as to cover the bottom of the jar, the worms should be spread, care being taken to exclude all mangled or broken ones, as they only contaminate the rest. In a few days they will scour quite pink and become a very deadly lure for trout. They also attain a nice degree of toughness, and can, if sufficient care be taken, undergo the strain of casting without the risk of being injured. The only other worm worth mentioning is the brandling, easily distinguishable by the yellow rings round its body: it is found in rich leaf-mould or in dunghills. Some fishers Sie BOS WELT S: 231 set great store by this bait, but I have never found in my experience that it approached the “pink” worm in point of attraction ; besides, it is difficult to toughen, and when pierced emits a most offensive odour. In worm-fishing with the tackle, no hook that has done some execution one day should ever be used a second time; for independently of the points being blunted, the dressing of the hook gets frayed and loosened from the shank by rubbing against the teeth of the fish caught, and nothing is more provoking than to strike a good fish and lose it, in consequence of the hook slipping down off the gut. The angler in such circumstances richly deserves his loss for his temerity. In setting out for a day’s fishing I never like to have less than eight or a dozen of the tackle in my book. Not unfrequently ove will do the work of the day, even when trout are taking freely: but most commonly a good many are lost through circumstances over which the angler has little or no control. I have known anglers whose practice it was, after taking their fish off the hook, to put them alive into the basket, and leave them there slowly and miserably to gasp themselves to death. This I consider a piece of wanton cruelty, and I take the present opportunity of protesting against it. It is surely quite an unnecessary prolonging of their sufferings, even if it be conceded that they do not feel very acutely ; and as far as I know, it can answer no reasonable purpose. My own custom is to kill the fish as soon as.it is caught, and on all grounds,—the angler’s own safety included—this is the best course to follow. I remember when fishing a reach of the river 232 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. Don one day, in company with a friend, who might be distant from me about sixty yards, seeing him engaged with a fish which he finally succeeded in getting ashore. At that distance I could not distinguish the size of the fish, but I was struck with the length of time he was occupied in manipulating upon the creature, before he commenced to cast again. Presently, he came slowly down towards me with his rod under his arm, his hands held in front of him in a kind of appealing attitude, and a somewhat rueful look on his countenance. A single glance explained the situation ; the fact being that, con- trary to all accepted notions on the subject, the fis had caught the fisher. He was fishing with the three hooks, the lowest of which only had fastened in the fish,—a nice trout of over half a pound—and instead of killing the animal at once, he was attempting first to disgorge the hook; when with a sudden wallop the fish succeeded in imbedding one of the loose hooks in the fleshy part of his thumb, right over the barb. I at once cut away the gut and threw down the fish; and happening fortunately to have a good knife, one of the blades of which had a lancet point, I managed, after a little surgical operation, to dislodge the hook, not, however, without inflicting some pain, as was evinced by sundry wincings on the part of my patient. We had just commenced fishing, conse- quently, if my friend had been alone, his day’s sport would have been done for, and that through an accident which a little care and forethought would have prevented. It was during one of my visits to St. Boswells, in a deep dark pool opposite the village of Maxton, that I had ST. BOSWELLS. 233 my first run witha salmon. Anglers not unfrequently have to bear the taunts of their non-piscatory friends that “the big ones always get away.” Where is the angler, I would like to know, of any experience, who cannot recall the loss of many and many a dzg one? Why, the big ones, in these days of fine tackle and shy fish, have of course the best chance to getaway. That they frequently do make their escape I frankly admit; that they always get away, I strongly deny ; though in my case— alas! that I should have the tale to tell—I lost my fish. But, not to anticipate, I had been wading down the middle of the river, about a mile below the Mertoun bridge, one Saturday afternoon, among the first days of September, fishing fly, not over successfully, in conse- quence of the sparkling and fiery brilliancy of the sun overhead and the absolute cloudlessness of the sky, when I sat down on a little gravelly island in mid-stream, to rest and refresh myself; and also to change my cast, and wait for the beginning of the twilight shades, and the turn of fortune. I had been using a cast of very small flies, and on looking over my book, I came upon some of a considerably larger pattern—average-size trout flies they were, such as one would use when the fresh was clearing off, or when there was a good “curl” on the water, or, as was now the case, in the evening. These, a relation of mine—a keen angler—had got dressed from some special feathers, by a crack tier of hooks in Aberdeen, and they had found their way somehow into my book. I selected one with a brownish-yellow wing, a sort of tawny moth- looking fly, and attached this to my line as the tail hook: Xo 34 ANGLERS’ EVENINGS. the other two I did not change. Thus accoutred, with strong, well-tried rod of thirteen feet ; silent reel, holding sixty yards or thereby of line in its coil, carefully tapered with two or three lengths of twisted gut, and that again with single strands of gradually decreasing thickness, down to the finest on which the hooks were fastened; and with no thought beyond a good-sized, well-conditioned trout for supper, as my creel was most uncomfortably light, I made for the pool to which I have alluded before. Having soaked the new hook a little, straightened the gut by drawing it once or twice through my fingers, and examined the line generally, I waded cautiously in, through a little, sandy shallow—just made for landing Jish—which gradually sloped away to unknown depths in the pool beyond. By this time it might be six o’clock. The sun was still sending his beams slantingly athwart the stream, but a lofty embankment on the opposite side, effectually screened the cast; and, joyful sight to the somewhat jaded angler, signs were not wanting in sundry dimplings of the water, that the fish were now on the feed. Not without a little twitch of nervous anticipation, such as one sometimes feels when he arrives at a favourite spot which is sure to yield him one or two good ones, did I cast straight out for the deepest part of the black, silent water. A good cast it happened fortunately to be; that is to say, I managed to reach the spot aimed for, and the point-fly alighted as gently as I could have wished. No sound, no splash, no breaking of the surface followed ; but, instinctively, as the hook was sucked down by some- thing that was zo¢ the current, the point of the rod went Si), BOS WELLS. 238 up, and he was on! I was about as much surprised as the fish would probably be; and, strange as it may appear, at the moment, I would have much preferred it to be a good trout, which, if I had secured, I could have tapped on the head, and laid to rest in the creel, no one daring to call me in question. For, be it remembered, my per- mission was only for trout; and I felt that I might be suspected of aiming at higher game, more especially as I saw a man on the opposite side, whom I believed to be one of the gamekeepers, come up and ensconce himself behind a tree, evidently bent on seeing what the stranger was about. At best, if I caught the fish, I should certainly deliver it to the rightful owner, and thereby, I, personally, would not be much of a gainer ; and incidentally, I might to an indefinite extent be a loser, if the animal, which had given occasion for these thoughts, like a flash, to dart across my mind, should lead me a dance, and indulge in such unseemly and unnecessary behaviour as would endanger my rod and line, neither of which was of such a kind as I should have selected for salmon-fishing. Accordingly, as soon as I felt his dead weight, I struck rather forcibly, intending to see whether the hook—a mere midge for a salmon—was properly fastened, and if not, to be off with him at once. But the hook was firm, and up he came to the surface, shewing the round of his back and his dorsal fin; and after shaking his head indignantly, as a terrier might do with your handkerchief, he headed away down stream in gallant style—a fish of fifteen or twenty pounds—having evidently made up his mind for a run to Berwick-on-Tweed, or the sheltering Ice 236 ANGLERS EVENINGS. of the Holy Isle ; whence, judging from his appearance, he had but recently arrived. This, however, it was not my intention to permit,as my line would scarcely have uncoiled so far: accordingly when he had run out about forty yards, I gradually pulled him up, as he was getting into broken water, where I could not well follow him. Round he turned, and back he came as gracefully as might be, and so swiftly that I had difficulty in winding in. He repeated this two or three times, during which I was sometimes on the bank, and sometimes in the river; some- times wading in shallows, andsometimes following him into water much too deep, as I soon found to my cost by the increased weight of my stockings. Finally, after a struggle which lasted considerably over an hour, he seemed to be getting exhausted, and I led him towards the shallow bay for the purpose of attempting to land him. Several times he turned tail upon the bay and dashed back into the deep water, each time, however, with less vigour. On the last occasion when I was wearing him in, he turned perpendicularly upon his nose, evidently for the purpose of rubbing it against the gravel at the bottom. Most anglers will know what this means ; but in my case I could not prevent it, as I dared not put more strain upon the tackle than it was already bearing, otherwise breakage would have been inevitable. On his coming up, I saw between my line and his snout, a small branch attached, which had not a reassuring effect. Immediately after this, on my making another attempt to get him to the side, and probably increasing, though but slightly, the strain upon the line, the hook, having no doubt worn S77 BOSWALLS: 237 and widened its catch, suddenly spurted out, and the salmon and I parted company. After such a denouement what can one say? “ There’s many a slip ‘twixt the cup and the lip;’ and equally so ‘tween the salmon and the fishing basket. Very true, O king of fishes! And some are disposed to relieve their minds in such a case by a few strong, if inelegant expressions ; while others would be inclined to drown their disappointment in the manner indicated in lines attributed by Stewart to a certain humorist, “a friend and associate of anglers ”:— ‘