This manner of proceeding has always seemed to me to be taking an

unfair advantage of a salmon or trout. With a pike, of course, the

question is a different one, as he cuts the line with his teeth, if

you give him the chance and nothing but gimp is of any service. The

rings through which the line runs should also be examined to see that

they are secure and that the line itself, which is best of hemp for

salmon-fishing is free from kinks and not chafed anywhere, also that it

is wound evenly on the reel, from which it must run lightly and easily.

A check in the running of the line, when a large fish makes a sudden

dash, would almost certainly enable him to break away. Many people

waterproof or varnish the line to keep it from rotting, and its usual

length is from sixty to seventy yards, the gut cast at the end being

generally about three more and stained (according to the colour of the

water in which it is to be used) either with tea or coffee, or else ink

and water.

One very important point is to wet both line and cast thoroughly before

using; the former should be run through the rings in the rod, and casts

made on a lawn or other open space for practice and to remove kinks if

any. Lines must be thoroughly dried after use.

[Illustration: _Ordinary method of tying Gut._]

Most women buy their tackle ready made, or are accompanied by an expert

fisherman, but, if breakage in the cast takes place and no help be

at hand, they should know how to make a single and double slip-knot,

and how to put on fresh flies in case of need. It should always be

remembered that the two ends of gut about to be joined should be

thoroughly moistened before they are manipulated. Otherwise the knots

will not bind and the gut will break.

[Illustration: _Method of fastening Dropper to Cast._]

It is better for a woman, if not an expert, to keep to one fly, that

at the end of the cast, called the tail fly, unless she is fishing

for sea-trout in which case a smaller one, called the dropper, may be

employed a little higher up the cast, or it may be advisable to use

two different kinds of salmon flies, but they are apt to get entangled

and give a great deal of trouble, without any conspicuous advantage.

This is particularly the case where casting is interfered with by high

rocks, or trees and branches just behind the fisherman.

[Illustration: _Dropper and Cast._]

The length of my own favourite salmon and trout rods are seventeen and

eleven feet respectively, but many people recommend a length of not

over fourteen for the former, as a woman's strength is so much less

than a man's.

[Illustration: _Dropper and Cast._]

My own experience is, that in casting against a strong wind, a stiffish

rod of eighteen feet is quite within my powers, so much depending on

the balance of the whole apparatus, the size of the reel and weight of

the butt. In quiet weather my "Castle Connell," a foot less in length

and much more supple was very satisfactory.

Marvellous tales are told of long casts, but personally I have found

sixty feet or thereabouts to be the length of my tether, at least

so far as a satisfactory performance is concerned. This distance is

usually quite enough for all practical purposes, and it will be some

time before the angler can be certain of dropping his fly lightly and

surely on a given spot, even at forty feet.

Women should practise casting on lawns without a cast at the end of

their lines, as, when the fly is on, a novice has been known to hook

swallows and even inquisitive puppy-dogs. The "Spey" cast should be

studied as well as the ordinary method, the former being most useful

where there are high branches or rocks just behind the place where the

angler must stand.

The "Spey" cast consists in so switching the line that it shoots out

direct to the required spot without ever passing behind the angler's

head, while in the more ordinary method, the great secret is to send

the line right out at the back, and then with a dexterous turn of the

wrist to bring it forward. By raising the tip of the rod slightly just

before the fly touches the water, it will fall into its position in

a light and natural manner. Casting requires great care and patience

in practising, and many a time the beginner may find her flies firmly

embedded in her own back hair, instead of speeding swiftly through the

air to where the fish lies.

In casting a line either for salmon or trout it should be noted that

fish always lie with their heads up-stream, and that it is therefore

necessary to stand some distance above where they are supposed to be,

and cast across the water so that the fly may fall delicately and

gently, without the least splash, a little above their noses. It cannot

be too often repeated that, in fishing for trout, the great art is _not

to be seen_. The angler must therefore stand well back from the bank,

hide behind trees and bushes and crouch in hollows. Above all, it is

absolutely essential that the figure should never be seen against the

sky. She must keep her face to the sun, that her shadow may not fall on

the water, throwing her fly first of all under the near bank and then

by successive casts across the stream.

The salmon cast is naturally a longer and slower movement than that

which is used for trout, but in both instances it is often well to

allow the fly to sink a little before beginning to play it. For salmon

the line should be drawn gently and with successive movements of the

wrist up-stream and across the space which intervenes between the spot

where the fly has fallen and that at which the angler stands. The trout

cast is much more rapid, and the playing should be across and down

stream as well as up, the movements of the wrist being much lighter and

more varied. In both cases, when a fish is felt, a "strike" should be

made, at least, authorities, to whom I am bound to bow, insist on this

ceremony. Personally I believe that the fish, by this sharp turn of

the wrist, is as often lost as hooked, unless care be taken to chose

the actual moment when he has closed his jaws upon it. I have seen a

fly pulled right out of a salmon's mouth, and have been told by those

looking on and instructing me that I had done that same thing myself,

when I merely intended to strike. My impression is, therefore, that

the novice had better let her salmon hook themselves, which they will

certainly do if they come well at the fly.

The cast itself requires careful examination before it is used; it

should be stained to the required colour and tested with a steelyard up

to sixteen or seventeen pounds for finer tackle, and eighteen for that

which is coarser. Trout-casts, will not, of course, require or bear so

severe a strain, but should be tried to see whether there is any defect

either in the gut or in the knots which unite the several lengths of

which they consist.

Few women, I imagine, will care to make their own casts, although some

do, and for those I may mention that the best and cheapest gut is

to be had in the South of Spain, where it is about one-third of the

price which it fetches in England. Fly-making is very pretty work for

delicate fingers but tedious and, on the whole, not very remunerative,

as flies can be bought very cheap now-a-days. They may not be quite so

carefully finished as those of home manufacture, but they are, I must

admit, equally killing, although for years I placed implicit faith in

the latter.

There was one fly for which I had a special fancy; it is a combination

of orange-coloured silks and tinsel for the body with pheasant and

jay for the wings, peacock for the head and golden pheasant for the

tail. On one occasion, this "Orange Body" of private manufacture was

presented to a friend, who admired it greatly and sallied forth, on

slaughter bent.

He hooked a salmon almost with the first cast, struck with decision,

and behold, all the dressing of the hook including of course the eye,

came away and he lost his fish.

What had happened? The secret was this: that the cobbler's wax used for

fly-making had been mislaid, and an ordinary piece of wax-candle used

instead, the result being that the fish went away with the hook in his

mouth while the rest of the fly remained to adorn the cast.

Test your flies, therefore, see that they are thoroughly sound and that

the eye and piece of gut by which they are fastened to the cast are

not frayed. It is a good thing to try a new fly in a basin of water

or shallow pond to see whether it floats, as it should, horizontally,

and whether the wings have a life-like motion, as by repeated short

movements you play it with your hand.

Attention to all these little matters may seem very irksome at first,

but it is by these means that one angler will succeed when another who

precedes him on the same ground, will obtain no sport.

To give an accurate description of the different kinds of flies used

in salmon and trout fishing, would be quite impossible in so short an

article as the present one, but it should be said that, as a general

rule, the deeper and larger the river the larger and brighter will be

the flies required.

In thick or heavy water, after a flood, large bright coloured flies are

indicated, and the clearer the stream the smaller must be the size, and

the more neutral the colours tend to become. Most authorities seem to

agree that the size of flies is a much more important factor in their

killing qualities than the special materials of which they are made, or

the finish and delicacy of their manufacture. When fish do not seem to

be rising it is well to try them with another colour or make, and this

will often enable the angler to fill his basket, when otherwise the

day's sport must have been marked with a "duck's egg."

The same general rules also apply to trout fishing, but it should

be remembered that in the latter case, except when fishing in lakes

or rivers for the larger species which may fairly be angled for as

salmon, the shallow water, enabling the lure to be plainly seen,

requires less gaudy colours, and, of course, an immense reduction in

size.

I must not omit to mention the gaff and the landing-net, most important

parts of the angler's outfit. The former is best for large fish, under

which it is much more difficult to get a net.

There is always a great controversy raging as to whether it is best to

gaff "over" or "under," and the right place to accomplish the former

is said by some authorities to be the back just at the shoulder.

Personally I belong to those who gaff "under," and have always found it

much easier than the other.

When a fish is brought close to the bank, sometimes only half or

three-parts killed, he will generally make a dash for his life when he

sees a murderous-looking steel instrument close to him, so it must be

concealed from his view, and it is a good plan to have the gaff pretty

deep in the water before he is brought up to it then striking under and

drawing the gaff sharply forwards and upwards. I have landed some very

heavy fish in this way, and scarcely ever missed one.

Once I gaffed a beautiful salmon of at least eighteen pounds, on the

Usk, landed him triumphantly, and stood admiring him while the fly was

taken out of his mouth. He seemed quite dead, but just as we turned

away to what we hoped would be fresh conquests, with a vigorous flap of

his tail, he managed to slide over into the river and was lost to view.

I am afraid he was mortally wounded by the gaff, and must have died

before long. This was a lesson to me to remove my fish to some distance

from the water's edge and to make sure that they were really dead

before leaving them. The net should be used for "red" or "black" fish,

which must be returned to the river on account of their condition, with

as little injury as possible.

Grayling are not usually considered as interesting to catch as salmon

and trout, for, although they will sometimes make a desperate fight for

life, they will only too often sink down to the bottom of the stream

and remain there. They must be fished for with the same precautions

against being seen which are used for trout, and with several flies on

the cast, as they often move in shoals. They usually lie in the middle

of the river, in its lower reaches towards the sea, and when these are

broad, the angler is often compelled to wade to get the best chance at

them. They are caught with the fly as well as worms and other bait.

The cast should be made up-stream.

I must not forget to mention dry-fly fishing, which is particularly

suitable for women. This form of angling is usually necessary in chalk

streams, where trout will often refuse to be tempted by any other.

The cast must be made up-stream so that the fly drops on the nose of

the fish in a natural manner, and floats on the top of the water. The

moment the fly gets wet it is useless, and must be dried by making two

or three false casts in the air before returning to a real one on the

stream. The fly must be worked with the greatest delicacy of touch, and

allowed to float down with the current on the surface of the water.

COARSE FISH.

[Illustration: _Lead for Spinning. Double Swivel._]

The above title includes pike, perch, roach, dace, chub, bream, barbel,

and tench, the last of which is very good eating, its fat being almost

like that of the turtle. When the nobler varieties are not to be

obtained, coarse fish are by no means to be despised, either for the

table or for sporting purposes, and many a happy day may be spent on

rivers and lakes at a time of year when perhaps neither salmon nor

trout are available.

[Illustration: _Archer Spinner._]

My experience of pike fishing has been chiefly in the Hampshire Stour,

which has a gravelly bottom, so that those fish, which are apt to be

muddy in flavour, were superior to any I have tasted caught elsewhere.

They are to be taken either with a float and live bait, or else with

a trolling-rod and spinning tackle, baited with a dace or other small

fish. After the care and tact which must be displayed in salmon, and

especially in trout fishing, pike seem to be of a very inferior order

of intellect. No concealment of one's person at the river-side is

absolutely necessary, though it may be advisable sometimes, and the

splash made by the bait in the water when spinning and which is enough

to frighten all the trout in the pool, does not seem to affect the

appetite of the fish we are now dealing with.

[Illustration: _Bickerayke's Snap Tackle._]

As far as my experience goes, I should say that gimp is the only thing

that will hold a large pike, whose tactics are to cut the line with

his teeth, or to wind it round a rock or root in the bed of the river

and so defeat his human enemy. Even when safely landed he is still

dangerous for he has jaws like a tiger, fitted with large, sharp teeth,

which must be approached with caution. The trolling-rod is short and

stiff, with large rings so that the line can run freely; the latter

cannot of course be wound on the reel when fishing, unless in casting

from the reel, but must be drawn in by hand. Great care is required to

prevent entanglement, and the angler must beware of treading on his

line as he moves along.

I found, inside a pike of twenty-five pounds, caught in the Hampshire

Stour, a perch of three pounds, which had been swallowed whole. The

pike had, apparently, only regarded this as a _Hors d'oeuvre_ and not

as a square meal, since he came to my dace with the greatest voracity.

Perch fishing has always had great attractions for me, and I have

caught many beautiful baskets of them, also in the Hampshire Stour.

They are curious fish in some ways, and are to be found in large

companies in pools and lakes, at the time of year when they are in

season. When they are on the shallows they are not fit to eat, and will

not usually take the bait. We fished for them with a live minnow and

float, sometimes from the bank and sometimes from a punt. They do not

seem shy, and I have caught them with my hand in the water holding the

gut and minnow, but if once a perch is lost, no more will rise in that

pool.

They must have some means of communication with each other, for after

such an event the only thing to do is to move to another hole. When, by

the disappearance of the float under water, the angler becomes aware

that a fish has taken the bait, a short time should be allowed before

striking as it must be remembered that the perch has to swallow part

of the minnow before arriving at the hook. If left too long, the perch

will gorge the bait (and this applies also to pike), the result being

very unpleasant for all parties concerned. I have also caught perch

with a worm, in which case the bait should be almost on the bottom of

the river. The great attraction in this sport is that you can fish on a

brilliantly fine summer's day, and see the objects of your attentions

swimming about and playing regardless of you in the deep clear water.

[Illustration: _Pennell Flight for Small Baits._]

It is said that certain kinds of trout croak, but that roach do, I

myself can testify, and so distressing is the noise they emit that when

I have caught them by accident, I always returned them to the water

with great despatch.

Carp and tench are exceedingly shy fish and both prefer muddy and weedy

ponds to a clear running stream. In the former they may be caught with

paste and other forms of bait, but, to my mind, are hardly worth the

trouble and, if wanted for the table may just as well be circumvented

with a net, for all the sport they afford.

[Illustration: _Pennell Flight for Large Baits._]

Barbel and bream are very dull fish to catch with a rod and line; the

former especially dive at once and burrow sulking in the mud, opposing

merely dead weight to the angler's efforts. Dace and chub only remain

to be noticed. The former will take a fly very readily, and give very

good sport for their size, while chub are as shy as trout and as

difficult to catch, if once they obtain a sight of their antagonist on

the bank.

It has only been possible to give a very short account of the various

kinds of fresh-water fish, and numerous questions will occur to the

novice in angling, which must be elucidated partly by study of the many

excellent volumes already published on the subject, but chiefly by

experience and consultation with men who possess special knowledge of

their own locality.

Still, I hope I have said enough to encourage women to look into the

science of angling for themselves, and not to be entirely dependent on

the services and advice of anyone who may chance to accompany them.

S. H. Malmesbury.

[Illustration: _NATURAL FORMS OF FAVOURITE TROUT FLIES._]

FOOTNOTES:

[4] This hook or beak on the lower jaw of male salmon is a provision of

nature to enable them to rake those furrows in the gravel wherein the

female deposits her _ova_. It has been known to pierce entirely through

the upper jaw, causing the ultimate death of the fish.--Ed.

[5] The foul-hooked salmon, too, has far more leverage.--Ed.

[6] Rods of split cane are very largely used, and as they are light and

strong have much to recommend them.--Ed.

TROUT AND OTHER FLY FISHING.

This subject far from being treated exhaustively, or even with any

attempt at fulness, will, on the contrary, only be written of, so as to

give a few hints to those who love to wield the rod. Bottom fishing,

with the paraphernalia necessary to that branch of the sport, has

objections at least from a woman's point of view, but to fishing with

the fly there is no drawback, unless indeed you happen to be one of

those who hold that you should never pit your skill against one of the

lower animals in a struggle for life. Of all sports indeed there is

none more entirely suited to the powers of woman than fly-fishing. The

nicety, the quickness, the light-handedness, and care as to details,

and I think I may add _thoroughness_ in any pursuit they really take

to, in which women generally excel are all points in her favour the

moment she takes a rod in hand. Great strength is not needed, unless

indeed she choose to go after one of the leviathans of the deep, but

only constant and exhaustless patience. Yet it is the mention of the

last that will make many who know only of the sport by hearsay, look

scornful and say they see no fun in standing watching and waiting for

the bite that often never comes, and that they prefer something more

active. As it is no use arguing with people who are persuaded they

view the subject from a vastly superior standpoint, the only answer to

this is, "If you do not change your opinion after a week's--or even a

day's--experience--well, fly-fishing is not for you."

What I am anxious to impress upon all is, that fly-fishing is not

necessarily an expensive sport. For the best of salmon-fishing and the

right to try for trout in their choicest waters you must indeed pay,

but for the right to fish for their less thought of brethren there need

be but small demands on your purse.

My own experience one summer may be of some use to those who would fain

do likewise. My lot was cast in a part of Sussex where under the Downs

flowed a tiny but most beautiful little river. "No trout," had been

the answer given when I enquired as to the prospect of sport from its

banks, so sadly I made up my mind that beyond an occasional visit to a

trout stream, owned by some friends in the same county, my rod would be

idle that summer.

"If only it _was_ stocked with trout," was my frequent reflection as

I wandered along its banks and noted the swift flowing current and

the tempting stickles that looked a perfect paradise from a trouting

point of view. One evening as I stood watching the clear waters as they

rushed round and over some opposing rocks into a large pool, I caught

sight of a silvery, most graceful fish dart through the water at the

side of the eddy. Then when my eye became accustomed to the curious

light, as the rays of the setting sun fell slantways over the pool,

through the branches of a mighty oak tree that rose from the banks,

I saw another, and another. "Dace," was my verdict, and forthwith

dismissed them from my mind. But I had not reached home before the

thought of trying for those dace with fly came to me, and the next day,

trout rod in hand, and with a Black Palmer and Alder on the cast, I

made my first venture in what was to me quite a new branch of sport.

[Illustration: _Method of fastening Dropper to Cast._]

As the line flew out for the second time and the flies fell gently and

lightly on the water, I had but to wait a second before a faint thrill

ran through my hand and told me _something_ had touched the fly. Could

it be a bite? So different was it to the sudden onslaught of a trout,

that I hesitated whether or not to strike, and contrary to the usual

fate of the waverer, it was the momentary pause which gave me the fish.

A slight movement of the wrist and I had him fast, and then a delicious

few minutes followed while I played as game a dace as I ever wish to

measure skill with. Indeed I should not have been surprised when at

last my prize was safely caught in the landing net, to see the spotted

scales of a trout. But no, the slender, silvery, beautiful-headed fish

could be no other than a dace, and his captor at least was content with

the gallant bid he had made for his life.

The Sportswoman's Library, Vol. 2 of 2 · 第 7 / 15 段