WATER POACHERS.
If trout streams and salmon rivers are ever more interesting than when
the "March-brown" and the May-fly are on, surely it must be when the
fish are heading up stream for the spawning grounds. Then the salmon
leave the teeming seas and the trout their rich river reaches for the
tributary streams. At this time the fish glide through the deep water
with as much eagerness as they rushed down the same river as silvery
samlets or tiny trout. Maybe they stay for a short time at some
well-remembered pool, but the first frosts remind them that they must
seek the upper waters. A brown spate rolling down is a potent reminder,
and they know that by its aid the rocks and weirs will be more easily
passed. If the accustomed waterways are of solid foam the fish get up
easily, but the soft spray gives them little hold. Let us watch them
try to surmount the first obstacle; and here, by the White Water rocks
it is a silvery sight to see the salmon "run." There is a deafening
roar from the waterfall, and the almost impalpable spray constitutes a
constant maze of translucent vapour. Ever and anon a big fish throws
its steel-blue form many feet above the water, endeavouring to clear
the obstacle. Many times it is beaten back, but at last it gains a
ledge, and by a concentrated effort manages to throw itself into the
still deep water beyond. Instead of leaping, the female fish try to run
through the foam and on from stone to stone until a last leap takes
them over. Where no passes exist many fish are picked up dead, the
majority of these prove to be males, and this preponderance is also
noticeable upon the breeding grounds. The spawning redds are selected
where the tributaries are clear and pure--where there is bright gravel
and an entire absence of sediment. Here the fish settle down to their
domestic duties, and their movements seem to be regulated by a dulling
stupor. This facilitates observation, but it also assists the poacher
in his silent trade. Once settled, the female fish scoops out a hollow
in the sheltering gravel, and is closely attended by her lord. Whilst
spawning is proceeding, observe with what care he attends her, and in
what evolutions he indulges. He rises and falls, now passing over, now
under her, and settling first upon this side, then upon that. Observe,
too, how he drives off the young unfertile fish which are ever lying in
wait to devour the spawn. The eggs are deposited at intervals in the
sand, and when the milt has been fertilised the whole is covered over,
there to remain until spring. The salmon deposits nearly a thousand
eggs for every pound of its live weight, and from the quantity of spawn
in some salmon rivers it would seem that nothing which man could
do--save pollution--would have any appreciable influence upon the
increase of the species. The fecundity of trout is even greater than
that of salmon, while a tiny smelt of only two ounces contains upwards
of thirty-five thousand eggs, and even these are as nothing compared
with the rate of increase of several marine and "coarse" fish. An
individual cod has yielded more than six million; a turbot fourteen
million; and a twenty-eight pound conger eel fifteen million eggs.
The eggs of salmon are nearly as large as the seed of a garden pea, and
those of good trout only slightly less. The ova is of a delicate salmon
colour and the cell-walls are semi-transparent--so much so that the
embryo shows plainly through. Although delicate in appearance they are
elastic and capable of sustaining great pressure, and an egg thrown
upon a flat surface will rebound like an india-rubber ball. The economy
of the extreme prolificness of the sporting fishes of Britain can best
be understood when we come to consider the host of enemies which beset
both salmon and trout in the very first stages of their existence.
Nature is prolific in her waste, and a whole army of nature's poachers
have to be satisfied. So true is this that the yearly yield of the
largest salmon-producing river in the kingdom is computed at about the
produce of _one female fish_ of from fifteen pounds to twenty
pounds in weight; the produce of all the rest being lost or wasted.
Sometimes a single ill-timed spate will destroy millions of eggs by
tearing them from the gravel and laying them bare to a whole host of
enemies.[2] These enemies are in the air, on the land, in the water,
and nothing short of an enumeration of them can convey any idea of
their numbers and wholesale methods of destruction. In addition to the
yearling salmon and trout which for ever haunt the skirts of the
spawning grounds, there are always a number of mature unfertile fish
which for a part of the year live entirely upon the spawn. An instance
of this is recorded by a river watcher on the Thames, who states that
while procuring trout ova in a stream at High Wycombe, he observed a
pair of trout spawning on a shallow ford, and another just below them
devouring the ova as fast as it was deposited by the spawner. The
keeper netted the thief, and in its stomach was found upwards of two
ounces of solid ova, or about three hundred eggs. Eels particularly
root up the gravel beds, and the small river lamprey has also been seen
busily engaged in the like pursuit. These have a method in going about
their depredations that is quite interesting. Small parties of them
work together, and by means of their suckers they remove the stones,
immediately boring down after the hidden spawn. If a stone be too large
for one to lift another will come to its aid, even four or five having
been seen to unite their forces. It is a good-sized stone which can
resist their efforts, and the mischief they do is considerable. Even
water beetles and their larvæ must, on account of their numbers and
voracity, come within the reckoning, and among the most destructive of
these are water-shrimps and the larvæ of the dragon-fly. Have we not
been told that while the loved May-fly is "on," all hours, meats,
decencies, and respectabilities must yield to his caprice, so that the
pink-spotted trout, rushing from every hover, may be lifted gently from
its native stream to gasp away its life among the lush summer grass?
But if the gauzy-winged fly is one of the loved likes of the trout, the
former has its day, for none of the larvæ of water beetles is so
destructive to spawn and fry as this. Pike and coarse fish are equally
partial to the same repast, and even salmon and trout devour the young
of their own kind. Waterfowl are among the trout-stream poachers, and
the swan is a perfect gourmand. My swan and her crew (five cygnets)
would dispose of two million five hundred thousand eggs in that time.
Some of the best trout streams in the country have been depopulated of
fish by these birds, and the Thames as a fishing river is now greatly
suffering from the number of swans allowed upon it.[3] Both wild and
domestic ducks are destructive to spawn and almost live on the "redds"
during the breeding season. We have more than once shot moorhens in
autumn with spawn dripping from their bills, and the birds themselves
gorged with it. The coot has been charged with the same crime, though
as yet guilt has only been brought home to it with regard to coarse
fish; and to the silvery bleak it is said to be particularly partial.
The grebe or dabchick must be looked upon as an arrant little poacher
not only of eggs and fry but of fish in every stage of growth. It is
said that a pair of dabchicks will do more harm on a river than a pair
of otters, which, however, is perhaps not so terrible as it sounds.
Fourteen little grebes fishing about a mile of trout stream, as we have
known, is overstepping the balance of nature, and would certainly
injure the river; and Mr. Bartlett has stated that a pair of these
birds which he kept in confinement cost the Zoological Society a
considerable sum in providing small fish for them. Frank Buckland had a
grebe sent to him which had been choked by a bullhead, and the same
fate has not unfrequently befallen kingfishers and other aquatic
feeders. The vegetarian water-voles may be written down innocent with
regard to spawn, or at the worst "not proven." Our British voles are
miniature beavers that haunt the water sides and lead a fairy-like
existence among the osier-beds and lily-pads. They know but little of
winter, and therefore of the spawning season, and their delectable
lives are lived on through ever-recurring summers. Until lately
naturalists knew but little of the life-history of the voles, and the
country folk called them "water-rats" and "field-mice," and knew little
beyond except that they tunnelled their meadow-banks. As the little
creatures pass from one bank to another they swim fearlessly towards
the observer, and when within a few yards of the side suddenly
disappear and enter their holes from beneath. Much abuse has been
heaped upon the vole for its alleged propensity for destroying ova, but
as yet nothing has been proved against it. We have watched scores of
these little creatures feeding on the succulent leaves of water-plants,
but have never detected them searching the "redds" or taking trout fry.
It has been asserted that voles feed upon flesh when opportunity
offers, but perhaps we cannot better vindicate their general character
in this respect than by relating an incident which has occurred
annually for some years past. In a quiet pool known to us, a couple of
moorhens have annually hatched and reared one or more broods under the
shadow of an old thorn-tree, the nest being interwoven with one of the
lower boughs which floats on the surface of the water. Under the roots
a pair of voles have annually brought forth several young families; and
yet perfect amity seems to exist between the birds and the rodents. We
have seen the eggs lying for hours uncovered and unprotected, and at
other times the young birds, not more than a few hours old, swimming
about in the water when the voles were constantly feeding, crossing and
recrossing from bank to bank. If voles were addicted to killing birds
the downy young of the moorhen would have afforded tender morsels, and
have been easily obtained in a small confined pool ere they were able
to take wing.
[2] "Sometimes while stealing along in a quiet deep channel
but a few yards wide, worn through the rock, or between it
and the green bank opposite, the spectator would marvel at
the broad expanse of shingle or barren sand. Little would he
wonder if, after a week's rain, he sought the same spot, when
Tweed was coming down in his might, and every tributary
stream, transformed for the nonce into a river, swelled the
mighty flood. Then timber trees, sawn wood, dead animals,
farming implements, even haystacks would come floating down,
and the very channel of the river would be diverted,
sometimes never to return to its ancient course. Sad was the
havoc occasioned among the embryo spawn; torn from its bed,
it would be carried down stream, to be devoured by the trout
or the eel, or to perish amid the waste of waters. We felt on
these occasions pretty safe. Our principal enemies were
dispersed: the gulls sought worms in the ploughed uplands;
the kingfisher and the solitary heron flew away to the
smaller streams, where the less turbid water permitted them
to see their prey. The cold, slimy, cruel eel, alone of all
our enemies, was then to be dreaded. Crawling along at the
bottom of the water, his flat wicked head pressed against the
gravel, so as to escape the force of the stream, the wily
beast would insinuate himself into every crevice or corner,
where a small fish might have taken shelter, or a drowned
worm be lodged, and all was prey to him." _The
Autobiography of a Salmon._
[3] "One had better throw open his pond or river to all the
poachers in the district than indulge in a taste for swans.
If any one doubts this, let him row up the Thames from
Weybridge to Chertsey, or on to Laleham, during the latter
end of the month of April or early in May, and take
particular and special notice of what the swans are doing. If
he has still any doubt, and likes to kill one or two and cut
them open, he will solve his doubts and do a service at the
same time; he may be fined for it, but he will certainly
suffer for a good action and in a good cause. A swan can and
will devour a gallon of fish-spawn every day while the spawn
remains unhatched, if he can get it; and it is easily found.
I leave the reader to calculate what the few hundreds (I
might almost say thousands) on the Thames devour in the
course of two or three months. Their greediness and voracity
for fish-spawn must be witnessed to be believed. If this were
not so, the Thames ought to swarm to excess with fish,
whereas it is but poorly supplied. Here is a little
calculation. Suppose each swan only to take a quart of spawn
per diem, which is a very low average indeed; suppose each
quart to contain fifty-thousand eggs (not a tithe of what it
does contain). I am not speaking of salmon and trout here,
their ova being much larger; suppose only two hundred swans
(about a fourth, perhaps, of the number really employed) are
at work at the spawn, and give them only a fortnight for the
period of their ravages. Now what is the result we get? Why,
a little total of one hundred and forty million. One hundred
and forty million of eggs! Suppose only half of those eggs to
become fish, and we have a loss of seventy millions of fish
every year to the River Thames--a heavy price to pay for the
picturesque, particularly when the reality may perhaps be
doubled, or trebled, or even quadrupled." Francis Francis.
When the eggs of salmon and trout have been submitted to the action of
clear running water for a few months they begin to hatch. Prior to this
the young fish may be seen inside packed away in a most beautiful
manner. The embryo increases in bulk until on some warm April day the
tiny fish bursts its shell and finds itself in a wide world of waters.
Individual eggs may be seen to hatch, and the process is most
interesting. First the shell splits at the part corresponding to the
back. Then a tiny head with golden eyes appears, and after two or three
convulsive waves of his little tail the now useless shells fall from
off him. He seems to enjoy the watery element in which he finds
himself, for away he swims as fast as his tiny fins and wriggling tail
will carry him, round and round in a circle, until presently he sinks
down again to the sheltering gravel, for the first time breathing
freely by his delicate gills. Every young salmon and trout has a tiny
umbilical sac attached, and upon the contents of which it must feed
until it has learnt to look out for itself, a period of from six to
eight weeks. Frank Buckland has stated that no other animal increases
so rapidly at so little cost, and becomes such a valuable article of
food as the salmon. At three days old it is nearly two grains in
weight; at sixteen months it has increased to two ounces, or four
hundred and eighty times its first weight; at twenty months old, after
the smolt has been a few months in the sea, it becomes a grilse of
eight and a half pounds, having increased sixty-eight times in three or
four months; at two and three-quarter years old it becomes a salmon of
twelve pounds to fifteen pounds; after which its increased rate of
growth has not been satisfactorily ascertained, but by the time it
becomes thirty pounds it has increased one hundred and fifteen thousand
two hundred times the weight it was at first.
The only parts of a young salmon or trout which is fully developed
immediately it leaves the egg are its eyes. These are golden with a
silver sheen, and beautifully bright--the great aids in steering clear
of an almost innumerable set of enemies which this new stage of
existence brings. And it is really difficult to say whether these game
fishes have more enemies when in the egg or after they are hatched. Of
some of the former we have already spoken, and now let us look to the
latter.
The heron is a great trout-stream poacher, and destroys quantities of
immature fish. This has long been known, but the fact received striking
confirmation from an incident which occurred at the rearing-ponds at
Stormontfield. Here a heron was shot as it left off fishing, when it
immediately disgorged _fifty fry_. In the trout stream the heron
stands looking more like a lump of drift-stuff caught in the bushes
than an animate object. Gaunt, consumptive, and sentinel-like, the bird
watches with crest depressed, standing upon one leg. At other times it
wades cautiously with lowered head and outstretched neck, each step
being taken by a foot drawn gently out of the water, and as quietly
replaced in advance. Occasionally the wader steps into a deep hole, but
this causes not the slightest flurry. The walk is changed into a sort
of swimming, and paddling deep in the water until the feet again touch
firm ground. Woe to the trout or samlet that comes within range of the
heron's terrible pike, for it is at once impaled and gulped down. This
impalement is given with great force, and a wounded heron has been
known to drive its strong bill right through a stout stick. If a fish
is missed a sharp look-out is kept for its line of escape, and a
stealthy step made towards it. Should the distance be beyond range of
the bird's vision, a few flaps of the wings are tried in the eagerness
of pursuit. Nothing from the size of fry to mature fish comes amiss to
the heron, and the young whilst still in the nest consume great
quantities. Their swallow is insatiable, though sometimes they gaff an
individual which is difficult to dispose of. Shooting late one evening
in summer we were standing by a stream the banks of which were riddled
with the holes of water-voles. It was almost dark, when a large bird
flapped slowly over the fields and alighted by the bank. It took its
stand, and as we lay low its sketchy form was sharply outlined against
the sky. It was a heron; and for an hour among the dank weeds and wet
grass we watched it feed. After a prolonged struggle with some object
in the water it rose. Just as it did so we fired, and running up to the
winged bird were in time to see a live vole which it had disgorged. As
an example of "the biter bit," it is related that a heron was seen one
evening going to a piece of water to feed; the spot was visited the
next morning, when it was discovered that the bird had stuck its beak
through the head of an eel, piercing both eyes; the eel thus held had
coiled itself so tightly round the neck of the heron as to stop the
bird's respiration, and both were dead. Upon another occasion a heron
is said to have swallowed a stoat, but in this case also the prey was
promptly disgorged. An authoritative statement has been made to the
effect that the heron's services in the destruction of pike, coarse
fish, rats, and water-beetles may fairly be set off against its
depredations in trout-streams. But to this we must dissent; and if a
trout stream and a heronry are to flourish in the same neighbourhood,
the former must be covered in with netting, especially during the
spawning season.
Another bird which is an enemy to both salmon and trout in their fry
stage is the black-headed gull. This bird with its laughing cry hovers
over the stream and never lets slip an opportunity of snapping up a
brown trout or silvery samlet that has left its place of refuge. The
late Francis Francis was fully aware of this fact, and he set down both
gulls and terns as most notorious offenders. A couple of hundred gulls
will devour at least a thousand smolts per day; and the birds may be
seen at Loch Lomond travelling to and from Gull Island and the burns
all day, each with a trout or parr in its beak. This must have a
considerable effect on the future supply of grilse in the Tweed.
As to what part the pretty white-breasted dipper plays in the economy
of salmon rivers and trout streams naturalists are by no means agreed.
Frank Buckland said that one might as well shoot a swallow skimming
over a turnip-field as a dipper over the spawning beds. And this view
of the dipper's economy we believe to be the right and just one. Last
autumn we had occasion to walk over many miles of trout streams. In
these, fish of every size were upon the gravel beds which constitute
the spawning "redds." Almost at every turn the white chemisette of the
brook bird glinted from some grey stone and went piping before us up
stream. As many of these were seen actually rummaging among the
pebbles, some few were shot for examination. Although the post-mortems
were carefully conducted, no trace in any single instance of the
presence of ova of either trout or salmon could be found, but only
larvæ of water-haunting insects, roughly representing the four great
families of trout-flies. In opposition to the above, however, it must
be admitted that individual dippers have been seen with tiny fish in
their bills, and even to feed their young ones upon them. Birds in
confinement have also been fed upon minnows, but this _penchant_
might be an acquired one. It may be asserted, then, that the ouzel has
been known to eat fish, but that fish forms no chief portion of his
food; and finally, that it would be quite incorrect to describe it as a
fish-eating bird, and therefore as an enemy to salmon and trout. The
birds will not long stay where the water is slow or logged; they must
have the white foam, the torrent, the pebbly reaches, and the shallows.
In fact, they could not obtain their food under conditions other than
these. The mountain burns abound with various aquatic insects and their
larvæ, and in limestone districts in innumerable fresh-water molluscs.
As already shown, not only is the ouzel innocent of destroying eggs of
salmon and trout, but it is indirectly beneficial to a fishery. It is
well known that among the chief enemies to spawn are the larvæ known as
caddisworms, that of the dragon-fly, May-fly and stone-fly, and also of
the various water-beetles. Now all these have been found in the stomach
of the dipper, and therefore it must confer a decided benefit on the
salmon and trout streams which it haunts.
Of all our British birds none is so beautiful or so secluded in its
habits as the kingfisher; and its presence is peculiarly in keeping
with the rapid, rocky trout streams which it loves to haunt. Although
glowing with metallic lustres, and beautiful in its adaptation and
every movement, the kingfisher builds but a careless nest, a loose
structure of dry fish bones--the hard indigestible parts of its food
which, in common with birds of prey, it has the power of ejecting in
pellets by the mouth. Again, let us look out the bird in its haunts. We
follow the course of the hazel-fringed stream over a mile of its pebbly
reaches; now a dipper flits from a green mossy stone, and a pair of
sandpipers start with tremulous wings and skirt the shingle-strewn
banks. Among the flags the water-voles gnaw the sweet saccharine
aquatic plants, and the water-hens run and hide under the friendly
roots of an overhanging thorn. The May-fly is upon the stream, the
silvery fresh run fish are all animation, and even the great black
trout in the "willow dub" condescends to take a fat blue-bottle that is
spinning round and round the pool. Dragon-flies dart hither and
thither, bronze fly and bee are upon the wing, and the carpet of grass
and flowers is alive with innumerable insects, all busily engaged in
fertilising their floral friends, or revelling in nectar, and gilded
with golden pollen. The lime-trees are "a murmurous haunt of summer
wings," and the breath of summer is on our cheek. Over there is an
overhanging, leafless bough and upon it has just alighted a kingfisher.
At first its form is motionless, then it assumes more animation, and
anon is all eye and ear. Then it falls, hangs for a moment in the air
like a kestrel, and returns to its perch. Again it darts with unerring
aim and secures something. This is tossed, beaten and broken with a
formidable beak, and swallowed head foremost. This process is again and
again repeated, and we find that the prey is small fish. From watching
an hour we are entranced with the beauty of the fluttering, quivering
thing as the sun glints from its green and gold vibrations in mid-air.
We gain some estimation, too, of the vast amount of immature fish which
a pair of kingfishers and their young must destroy in a single
season.[4] Later in summer the young brood may be seen with open
quivering wings, constantly calling as the parent birds fly up and down
stream. Their food consists almost entirely of fish throughout the
year, though during the rigour and frosts of winter they betake
themselves to the estuaries of tidal rivers, where their food of
molluscs and shore-haunting creatures are daily replenished by the
tides. Kingfishers are among the most persistent of trout-stream
poachers, and as many as eighty of these beautiful birds have been
killed in a season on a famous nursery in the midlands. As in the case
of the heron, nothing will save the fry from these marauders but
covering in the rearing ponds with the finest wire net. However one may
wish to protect the kingfisher, there is no denying the fact of its
_penchant_ for fish, especially the fry of salmon and trout; the
bad habit is bred in him.
[4] "Then the kingfisher, with rufous breast and glorious
mantle of blue, would dart like a plummet from his roost, and
seize unerringly any little truant which passed within his
ken. The appetite of this bird was miraculous; I never saw
him satisfied. He would sit for hours on a projecting bough,
his body almost perpendicular, his head thrown back between
his shoulders; eyeing with an abstracted air the heavens
above or the rocks around him, he seemed intent only upon
exhibiting the glorious lustre of his plumage, and the
brilliant colours with which his azure back was shaded; but
let a careless samlet stray beneath him, and in a twinkling
his nonchalant attitude was abandoned. With a turn so quick
that the eye could scarce follow it, his tail took the place
of his head, and, falling rather than flying, he would seize
his victim, toss him once into the air, catch him as he fell,
head foremost, and swallow him in a second. This manoeuvre
he would repeat from morning till night; such a greedy,
insatiable little wretch I never saw!"--_The Autobiography
of a Salmon._
The fact of salmon and trout devouring the spawn of their own kind has
been already referred to, and unfortunately the practice is continued
after the eggs are hatched. The big fish sometimes so terrify the tiny
trout and samlets that the latter throw themselves clear out of the
water and lay gasping on the pebbles, while the would-be devourer beats
about the shallows disappointed at losing his prey. An old "kelt"
salmon has been seen to devour fifty of his own progeny for breakfast;
and the pike is a greater water-wolf still. This fish has been known to
increase at the enormous rate of from eight to ten pounds a year when
favourably placed for feeding. So voracious a creature is the pike, and
furnished with such digestion, that it will destroy a half-pound trout
a day for twelve months--a terrible drain upon any stream. Then it has
an all-capacious maw for silvery smolts as they are making their way
down to the sea, and of these at certain seasons it devours myriads. Of
course pike keep coarse fish under, which are indirectly injurious to
trout, and in this way confer a benefit upon the angler. There is
another way in which he is beneficial, and that is as a scavenger. A
diseased salmon or trout never lives more than a few minutes in his
presence, for he gulps down fish, fungus, and all. In this connection
there is one fact which ought not to be overlooked. Of late years
disease has played terrible havoc in some of the best rivers in the
country. In one of these, known to the writer, scarcely a fish is
caught which does not show scars left by the disease--want of tail,
partial loss of fins, and white patches where the fungus has previously
grown. That numbers of the fish attacked do survive there can be no
question; and that the disease may be prevented at the cost of a few
fish we have but little doubt. This may be considered a bold assertion;
but in these days of artificial rearing, re-stocking, and preservation,
anglers and angling associations are apt either to forget or to ignore
the balance of nature. Now, nature rarely overlooks an insult. Destroy
her appointed instruments and beware of her revenge. That the salmon
and trout may live a whole host of stream-haunting creatures are
condemned, and that often upon the most insufficient evidence.
The creature against which the angler "breathes hot roarings out" is
the otter. But how few fish does the otter really destroy! The evidence
to be gathered by those who live along its streams all goes to show
that eels and freshwater crayfish form the staple of its food. In
search of these, it wanders miles in a night and will not partake of
soft-bodied fish so long as they can be found. The economy of the otter
ought not to be overlooked in connection with sport and our fish
supply. Probably its increasing rarity has as much to do with the
disease alluded to as had the extermination of the nobler birds of prey
with the grouse disease. A falcon always takes the easiest chance at
its prey; and an otter captures the slowest fish. In each case they
kill off the weakest, the most diseased, and thereby secure the
survival of the fittest. Most of the newspaper paragraphs anent the
doings of otters are mere legendary stories without any foundation in
fact. The otter is not a "fish-slicer." Salmon found upon the rocks
with the flesh bitten from the shoulders are oftener than not there by
agents other than _Lutra_. A great deal of unnatural history has
been written concerning the "water-dog," mostly by those who have never
had opportunity of studying the otter in its haunts. That it
occasionally destroys fish we will not deny; but this liking has become
such a stereotyped fact (?) in natural history that it is glibly
repeated, parrot-like, and has continued so long, that most have come
to accept it. Ask the otter-hunter, the old angler of the rocky
northern streams, the field naturalist who has many a night stretched
his length along a slab of rock to observe the otter at home--and each
has the same answer. Abundance of otters and plenty of trout exist side
by side; and where the fastnesses of the former are impregnable, there
disease is foreign to the stream. Many otters, many trout; this is a
bit of nature's economy there is no gainsaying. Here is an actual
incident. There is a certain reach on a well-known trout stream which
is so overgrown with wood and coppice as to render it unfishable. This
reach swarms with handsome well-fed trout; and yet far back among the
rocky shelves of the river a brood of otters are brought forth
annually, have been in fact time out of mind. And yet another incident.
Of forty-five dead otters killed in hunting, in two only were there
remains of fish food, and this consisted of eels--deadly enemies either
to trout stream or salmon river. These forty-five otters, for the most
part, were killed before six in the morning, and consequently when
their stomachs were most likely to contain traces of what had been
taken in their night's fishing.
One of the most curious enemies of our freshwater fishes is a small
floating water-weed, the bladderwort. Along its branchlets are a number
of small green vesicles or bladders, which, being furnished with minute
jaws, seize upon tiny fish, which are assimilated into its substance.
This is a subtle poacher, the true character of which has only lately
been detected. The bladderwort is a fairly common plant, and no very
special interest attached to it ere its fish-eating propensities were
discovered. Its tiny vesicles were known to contain air, and the only
use of these so far as was known was to keep the plant afloat--a
belief, be it remarked, all the more reasonable because many aquatic
plants actually have such air receptacles for that very purpose. The
tiny bladders attached to the leaves and leaf-stalks are each furnished
with a door, the whole acting on the eel-trap principle, entrance being
easy but exit impossible. There is nothing very formidable about the
delicate green jaws of the vegetable trap, only that any tiny water
creature that ventures in to look round out of mere curiosity never by
any chance emerges alive. The first time that the bladder-wort was
actually caught at its fish-poaching proclivities, so to speak, was by
Professor Moseley, of Oxford. He and a friend had, in a large glass
bowl, a plant of this species and also a number of young roach just
hatched. The murderous plant held several of the tiny fish in its jaws;
and upon an experiment being tried in a separate vessel, it was found
that a single plant had captured no less than a dozen fish in the space
of six hours. One of these was caught by the head, another by the tail,
a third by the yolk-sac, and in another instance two bladders had
seized the same fish, one holding on at each extremity. In spite of all
this tiny ferocity it must be admitted that this little plant poacher
is more interesting than dangerous, and so long as it confines its
attention to coarse fish neither the salmon-fisher nor trout-angler
will concern himself much about its aquatic depredations.
There is one wholesale method of destruction which particularly affects
salmon, which cannot be passed over. This is done by almost innumerable
nets, and is usually practised at the mouths of rivers and generally
without the slightest regard to the economy of the fish supply. And it
has been found that as salmon and the means of transit increase, so
does the number of destructive nets. Theoretically, legislation is
levelled against this wanton destruction, but practically the law is a
dead letter. At every tide, in certain seasons, hundreds of thousands
of salmon-fry and smolts are sacrificed; and in a certain firth it is
recorded how a fisherman in his nets walked, in many places, knee deep
in dead smolts, and that the ground for a considerable distance was
silvered with their scales. Under these circumstances the samlets
sometimes accumulate to such an extent that they have to be carted on
to the nearest land and used as manure. This waste of valuable fish
food is so great that it can hardly be reckoned, and in future years
must tell greatly upon the British yield of salmon. Mill-wheels[5] and
hatches, too, are often great sources of destruction.
[5] "In this neighbourhood I escaped, by pure good fortune, a
danger that I afterwards learnt proved fatal to
thousands--nay, tens of thousands--of my young companions.
The stream had apparently divided, and whilst I followed the
course of the right-hand one, the greater number passed down
the wider but less rapid left-hand division. Here they
speedily encountered a terrific mill-wheel, and, dashing on
one side, they found their progress stopped by a small net,
which being placed under them, they were landed literally by
bushels. My informant, who escaped by passing under the
mill-wheel at the imminent risk of being crushed to death,
assured me that the bodies of our unlucky brethren were used
as manure! And, degrading as the suggestion is, it seems not
impossible, for the numbers taken could not be sold or used
for food."--_The Autobiography of a Salmon._
Another enemy to salmon and trout is the great black cormorant--a
poacher that studies their migratory and local movements, and acts
accordingly. It is the habit of this bird to visit small rivers which
flow into the sea, especially during the late winter and early spring
months. At these seasons the smolts are preparing to come down, and the
kelts of salmon and sea trout are assembling in the large pools prior
to their return to salt water. A brace of cormorants which were shot at
their fishing were found to contain twenty-six and fourteen salmon
smolts respectively, and a trustworthy water bailiff asserts that he
once watched a couple of cormorants hunt and kill a kelt salmon, and
that after dragging it ashore they commenced tearing it up, when they
were driven off. It was once thought that both the cormorant and heron
only ate that which they could swallow whole, but this is now known not
to be strictly correct.
And now, finally, we come to the man poacher. Fish poaching is
practised none the less for the high preservation and stricter watching
which is so characteristic of the times. In outlying country towns with
salmon and trout streams in the vicinity it is carried on to an almost
incredible extent. There are many men who live by it, and women to whom
it constitutes a thriving trade. These know neither times nor seasons,
and, like the heron and the kingfisher, poach the whole year round.
They provide the chief business of the county police-court, and the
great source of profit to the local fish and game dealer. The wary
poacher never starts for his fishing grounds without having first
secured his customer; and it is surprising with what lax code of morals
the provincial public will deal when the silent night worker is one to
the bargain. Of course the public always gets cheap fish and fresh
fish--so fresh, indeed, that the life has not yet gone out of it. It is
a perfectly easy matter to poach fish, and the difficulty lies in
conveying them into the towns and villages. The poacher never knows but
that he may meet some county constable along the unfrequented country
roads, and consequently never carries his game upon him. This he
secretes in stacks and ricks and disused farm buildings until such
times as it may be safely sent for. Country carriers, early morning
milk carts, and women are all employed in getting fish into town. In
this the women are most successful. Sometimes they may be seen
labouring under a heavy load carried in a sack, with faggots and rotten
sticks protruding from the mouth; or again with a large basket
innocently covered with crisp green cresses which effectually hide the
bright silvery fish beneath.
The methods of the fish poacher are many. The chances of success, too,
are greatly in his favour, for he works silently and always in the
night. He walks abroad during the day and makes mental notes of men and
fish. He knows the beats of the watchers, and has the waterside, as it
were, by heart. He can work as well in the dark as in the light, and
this is essential to his silent trade. During summer and when the water
becomes low the fish congregate in deep "dubs." This they do for
protection, and if overhung with trees there is always here abundance
of food. If a poacher intends to net a "dub" he carefully examines
every inch of its bottom beforehand. If it has been thorned, he
carefully removes these small thorned bushes with stones attached, and
thrown in by the watchers to entangle the poachers' nets and so allow
the fish to escape. At night the poacher comes, unrolls his long net on
the pebbles, and then commences operations at the bottom of the river
reach. The net is dragged by a man at each side, a third wading after
to lift it over the stakes, and so preventing the fish from escaping.
When the end of the pool is reached the trout are simply drawn out upon
the pebbles. This is repeated through the night until half-a-dozen
pools are netted, and maybe depopulated of their fish. Netting of this
description is a wholesale method of destruction, always supposing that
the poachers are allowed their own time. It requires to be done slowly,
however, and if alarmed they can do nothing but abandon their net and
run. This is necessarily large, and when thoroughly wet is most
cumbersome and exceedingly heavy. The capturing of a net stops the
depredations of the poachers for a while, as these being large take
long to make. For narrow streams pretty much the same method as that
indicated above is used, only the net is smaller, and to it are
attached two poles. The method of working this is similar to that of
the last.
A species of poaching which the older hands rarely go in for is that of
poisoning. Chloride of lime is the agent most in use, as it does not
injure the edible parts. This is thrown into the river where fish are
known to be, and its deadly influence is soon seen. The fish become
poisoned and weakened, and soon float belly uppermost. This at once
renders them conspicuous, and as they are on the surface of the stream,
they are simply lifted out of the water in a landing-net. This is a
wholesale and cowardly method, as it frequently poisons the fish for
miles down stream; it not only kills the larger fish, but destroys
great quantities of immature ones which are wholly unfit for food.
Trout which come by their death in this way have the usually pink parts
of a dull white, with the eyes and gill-covers of the same colour and
covered with a thin white film. This substance, too, is much used in
mills on the banks of trout streams, and probably more fish are
destroyed by this kind of pollution in a month than the most inveterate
poacher will kill in a year.
Throughout summer fish are in season, but the really serious poaching
is practised during close time. When spawning, the senses of both
salmon and trout seem to become dulled, and they are not at all
difficult to approach in the water. The fish seek the higher reaches to
spawn, and stay for a considerable time on the pebble beds. The salmon
offer fair marks, and the poacher obtains them by spearing. A pronged
instrument is driven into the fleshy shoulders of the fish, and it is
hauled out on to the bank. In this way sometimes more fish are obtained
in a single night than can be carried away; and when the gang is chased
by the watchers the fish have generally to be left behind, as they are
difficult things to carry. The flesh of spawning fish is loose and
watery, and is most insipid and tasteless. It is, however, sold to the
poorest class of people at a few pence per pound. In one outlying
village during last close season poached salmon was so common that the
cottagers fed their poultry upon it through the whole winter. It is
said that several fish were taken each over twenty pounds in weight.
Another way of securing salmon and trout from the spawning "redds" is
by means of "click-hooks." These are simply large salmon-hooks bound
together shaft to shaft and attached to a long cord; a bit of lead
balances them and adds weight. These are used in deep rivers, where
spearing by wading is impracticable. When a fish is seen the hooks are
simply thrown beyond it, and then gently dragged until they come
immediately beneath; a sharp "click" usually sends them into the soft
under-parts of the fish, which is then drawn out. That natural poacher,
the pike, is frequently ridded from trout streams in this fashion. Of
course, poaching with click-hooks requires to be done in the light, or
by the aid of an artificial one. Lights attract salmon and trout just
as they attract birds, and tar brands are frequently used by poachers.
Shooting is sometimes resorted to, but for this class of poaching the
habits and beats of the water bailiffs require to be accurately known.
The method has the advantage of being quick, and a gun in skilful hands
and at a short distance may be used without injuring the fleshy parts
of the body. That deadly bait, salmon roe, is now rarely used, the
method of preparing it having evidently gone out with the old-fashioned
poachers, who used it with such deadly effect.
The capture of either poachers or their nets is often difficult to
accomplish. The former wind their sinuous way, snake-like, through the
wet meadows in approaching the rivers, and their nets are rarely kept
at home. These they secrete about farm buildings, in dry ditches, or
among the bushes in close proximity to their poaching grounds. Were
they kept at home the obtaining of a search warrant by the police or
local angling association would always render their custody a critical
one. They are sometimes kept in the poachers' houses, though only for a
short period when about to be used. At this time the police have found
them secreted in the chimney, between the bed and the mattress, or even
wound about the portly persons of the poachers' wives. The women are
not always simply aiders and abettors, but in poaching, sometimes play
a more important rôle. They have frequently been taken red-handed by
the watchers. The vocation of these latter is a hard one. They work at
night, and require to be most on the alert during rough and wet
weather--in the winter, when the fish are spawning. Sometimes they must
remain still for hours in freezing clothes; and even in summer they not
unfrequently lie all night in dank and wet herbage. They see the night
side of nature, and many of them are fairly good naturalists. If a
lapwing gets up and screams in the darkness they know how to interpret
the sound, as also a hare rushing wildly past. It must be confessed,
however, that at all points the fish poacher is cleverer and of readier
wit than the river watcher.