Part 43

Enter a stream, say its average width is seventy-five or one hundred feet, few of our mountain streams are so much, and a skilled rodster can cover it with ease—for wading down lie chooses his water, makes his casts, seldom over twenty or twenty-five feet of line to a cast, much of oftener less, and in “good waters” fills his creel.

For a forward cast, with your line as far out as may be necessary for the distance, throw your rod sharply back to an angle of not over fifteen degrees, and then bring it forward quickly till, as your line and flies are extended, the tip is on a level with your breast, never lower so as to dip water. With a line “taut,” so to speak, if a trout rises as your fly or flies touch the stream, a sharp, quick turn of the wrist will strike the hook home and secure him. Your strike must be firm and decisive; give the trout one second to understand and he spits the fly out. Laugh if you will, but that is what he does.

When hooked, if not too large for your tackle, draw the trout swiftly to you, lift him out, and break his neck, by bending back the head where it joins the back-bone. Thus he is out of pain, and does not bruise and flop himself soft, while dying, in your creel. “Playing” a trout for the mere fun of the thing, is unnecessary torture; besides, you frighten more than you secure, in the process. A very large trout, of course, must be weakened in the water, but many fishermen think there is no sport without they “play” a fish, no matter how small he is.

Never cast a foot more line than you need. You cannot gather slack half as easy as you can pay it out.

In regard to flies—I have found the brighter the day, as a general thing, the darker fly do trout want. At early dawn, or in the soft twilight of evening, a very light fly—a Coachman, is best. Next, Gray Miller, and especially the Stone fly. I use more Coachmen, Black Gnats and Stone flies in one season, than I do of all other flies put together in three summers.

Be sure, of all things, that your line runs easy through the standing guides, or guide-rings. I like the former best.

In casting right or left, to reach under bushy or over-hanging limbs, the same sharp, or quick action which makes an over-cast successful, is required, and great care not to draw any slack line when your fly drops where you want it.

Many fly-fishermen are considered adepts according to the length rather than the grace and certainty of their casts. I do not think in actual stream fishing an average of a day’s casting, would reach over fifteen feet to a cast. I never made but one very long cast in actual angling in my life.

Once, on the bank of a mill-pond in the upper part of Alder Brook, in Ulster County, N. Y., I saw a trout in shoal water, the largest I ever caught in that vicinity. To reach him without alarm, I cast seventy-two feet, measured afterward from a knot on my line near my reel, and got my fish.

He weighed two and a quarter pounds, and I had to play him some to save him.

And now, with a word to young fishermen and old beginners, I will close.

Learn first to cast a line and take a trout with bait before you try a fly. You will thereby gain confidence, learn to hook your fish at the instant he strikes, and gain the supple use of arm and wrist which makes the fly-fisherman skillful.

My dear wife, by whose sick bed I pen these words, for one long joyous summer in camp, fished by my side, using bait while she saw me casting no lure but flies.

The next time we went on the stream she had a six-ounce fly-rod, and fifty beautiful trout in two hours to her basket proved how apt a pupil she had been.

With many words of cheer to all who love the glorious pastime, I remain, as of yore—Uncle Ned—a born fisherman.

“Eagle’s Nest,” Delaware Co., N. Y.

“There are two peculiarities of all sorts of fish, which are frequently unnoticed; that they are largely attracted to their food by scent, and that they feed at night.”—Seth Green.

“The first and last object of the fly-fisher is to show as much of the fly to the fish as possible, and as little of anything else.”—Francis Francis.

“The notion of the main mass of anglers would appear to be, that if an unusually cunning fish takes up an impregnable-looking position he is to be religiously left unassailed. ‘Breakers ahead!’ seem to be scented by the over-cautious pliers of the rod, when the chances of conquest are really ‘as even’ as in less dangerous localities; and even supposing this were not so, the greater the difficulties the more exciting the sport, and the keener the pleasure.”—David Foster.

(Illustration Missing)

26. Manchester.

27. Blue Jay.

28. Imperial.

29. McLeod.

30. Black and Gold.

31. White and Jungle Cock.

“Many men of fame, even equal to Dr. Johnson’s, have been eminent as anglers, and have redeemed and disculpated angling from his surly and foolish sneer.”—John Lyle King.

“I invariably endeavor, when dressing a fly, to imitate the living insect; still I have seen nondescript flies beat all the palmer hackles and the most life-like flies that ever graced a casting-line.”—“Frank Forester.”