bridegroom colors the cheek of the bride; but I shall not know it, and I
shall never again share such hours of peace with the leafy trees. Then,
with folded hands upon my quiet breast, my friends will briefly gaze
upon my face and I shall be gone. In that last day, so full of deepest
interest to me, may my soul be pure.
Filled with such thoughts, I regret that I cannot express them like the
poet, whose name I know not, but whose words I will recall:
“Good-bye, sweet day, good-bye!
I have so loved thee, but I cannot hold thee;
Departing like a dream the shadows fold thee.
Slowly thy perfect beauty fades away;
Good-bye, sweet day.
“Good-bye, sweet day, good-bye!
Dear were the golden hours of tranquil splendor.
Sadly thou yieldest to the evening tender,
Who wert so fair from thy first morning ray.
Good-bye, sweet day.
“Good-bye, sweet day, good-bye!
Thy glow and charm, thy smiles and tones and glances
Vanish at last and solemn night advances.
Ah! couldst thou yet a little longer stay.
Good-bye, sweet day.
“Good-bye, sweet day, good-bye!
All thy rich gifts my grateful heart remembers,
The while I watched thy sunset’s smouldering embers
Die in the west beneath the twilight gray.
Good-bye, sweet day.”
As the balsam-breathing night wind begins to blow, I turn my back upon
the silver glancing of the moonlight on the rippling waves of the fairy
lake, and step bravely into the darkness of the woods, where I cannot
see the places where my foot shall fall, but I know that others have
safely passed it before, and that I shall find comfort and home at the
end.
Note.—“Description of a day on Balsam Lake (headwaters of the
Beaverkill) where no house was ever built. From the lake it is two
miles through the woods (about ten miles in the dark) to the nearest
house,”—Extract from letter accompanying article.
“I handle this ‘brown hackle’ as gently as a relic, not alone because
it is the memento of an unusual achievement, but because the sight of it
brings up vividly before me the beautiful lake where the trout lay; its
crystal waters; the glinting of its ruffled surface as the bright sun
fell upon it; the densely wooded hills which encircled it; the soughing
of the tall pines as the summer’s breeze swept through their branches;
and the thrill which coursed through every nerve as trout after trout
leaped to the cast, and, after such manipulation and ‘play’ as only
those who have had personal experience can comprehend, were duly
captured.”—_George Dawson._
“Don’t be in too great a hurry to change your flies.”—_Francis
Francis._
[Illustration: 0242]
1. Brown Hackle.
2. Scarlet Hackle.
3. White Hackle.
4. Yellow Hackle.
5. Ginger Hackle.
6. Gray Hackle.
7. Black Hackle.
8. Coch-y-Bouddr.
9. Gray Hackle.
1. Emerald Gnat.
2. Black C.
3. Soldier Gnat.
1. Brown Pennell. Pennell Hackles.
2. Yellow Pennell.
3. Green Pennell.
“And now we have got through the poetry of the art. Hitherto things
have gone happy as a marriage bell. I unhesitatingly declare, and I
confidently appeal to my brother Angler, whether he, a fly fisherman,
does not feel similarly. To me fly-fishing is a labor of love; the
other is labor—alone. But notwithstanding such are my feelings, it
by no means follows that every one else so fancies it. Every one to his
taste.”—_Capt. Peel (“Dinks”)_
“When Spring comes round, look to your tackle with careful inspection,
and see that all are in perfect order. Above all, look well to your
flies; reject all specimens that have been injured by use, and all
frayed gut lengths. It is better to throw away a handful now, than
to lose flies and heavy fish together the first time you fasten to a
rise.”—_Charles Hallock_.
“That hook is for a very little fly, and you must make your wings
accordingly; for as the case stands it must be a little fly, and a very
little one too, that must do your business.”—_Charles Cotton._
“For some reason which I have not succeeded in fathoming, the yellow fly
always seems to kill best in the position of dropper, or bob-fly, and
the green when employed as the stretcher, or tail-fly. The brown can be
used in either position.”—_H. Gholmon-deley-Pennell._
“Note that usually, the smallest flies are best; and note also, that the
light flie does usually make most sport in a dark day; and the darkest
and least flie in a bright or clear day.”—_Izaak Walton_.
“No description with pen or tongue can teach you how to cast a fly.
Accompany an expert and watch him.”—_T. S. Up de Graff, M. D._
“There is no more graceful and healthful accomplishment for a lady
than fly-fishing, and there is no reason why a lady should not in every
respect rival a gentleman in the gentle art.”—_W. C. Prime._
“Everything which makes deception more alluring should be resorted to by
an Angler; for, let his experience be ever so great, he will always find
opportunities to regret his deficiencies.”—_Parker Gilmore._
SUGGESTIONS
By Charles F. Orvis.
During my long intercourse with the angling fraternity, I have always
found its members very ready to receive and impart suggestions, in the
most friendly manner. It appears to me that those who are devoted to
“the gentle art,” are especially good-natured; and while very many have
their own peculiar ideas as to this or that, yet they are always
willing and anxious to hear the opinions of others. Believing this, I am
prompted to make a few suggestions, in regard to fly-fishing for trout,
and the tackle used for that purpose; and if I differ from any, which
will be very likely, I trust that what appears erroneous will be
regarded charitably; and if I shall be so fortunate as to make any
suggestions that will add to the enjoyment of any “brother of the
Angle,” I shall be content.
The rod, of course, is of the first importance in an outfit, as very
much depends on its perfection.
For ordinary fly-fishing for trout, a rod from ten to twelve feet in
length will be found most convenient.
I use a ten-foot rod, and find it meets all my requirements.
It is well to let your rod have weight enough to have some “back-bone”
in it; _very_ light and _very_ limber rods are objectionable, because
with them one cannot cast well against, or across the wind; and it is
impossible to hook your fish with any certainty—especially with a long
line out—or to handle one properly when hooked.
A _very_ limber rod will not re-act quickly enough, nor strongly enough
to lift the line and fix the hook firmly; because, when the upward
motion is made, in the act of striking, the point of the rod first goes
down; and, unless it is as stiff as it will do to have it and cast well,
it will not re-act until the fish has found out his mistake and rejected
the fraud.
Rods ten to twelve feet long should weigh from seven and one-half to ten
and one-half ounces, depending on the material and weight of mountings,
size of handpiece, etc. Many, perhaps, would say, that eight to ten
ounces, for a single-handed fly-rod, is too heavy; that such rods
would prove tiresome to handle. Much depends on how the rod hangs. If a
ten-ounce rod is properly balanced, it will be no harder work to use it
than a poorly balanced seven-ounce rod—in fact, not as fatiguing. Some
men can handle an eleven-foot rod with the same ease that another could
one that was a foot shorter. Hence, the rod should be adapted to the
person who is to use it.
The stiffness of a split bamboo rod is one of its great merits. When
I say stiffness, I mean the steel-like elasticity which causes it to
re-act with such quickness.
For material for fly-rods, bamboo ranks first, lance-wood next;
after mentioning these, there is not much to say. Green-heart is too
uncertain. Paddlewood is very fine, but as yet, extremely difficult to
obtain in any quantity.
The balance, or “hang,” of a rod is of the greatest importance. Let it
be never so well made otherwise, if not properly balanced it will be
worthless.
The elasticity should be uniform, from tip to near the hand; a true
taper will not give this, because the ferules interfere with the uniform
spring of the rod. For this reason a little enlargement between the
ferules should be made, to compensate for the non-elasticity of the
metal. These enlargements cannot be located by measurements, as much
depends on the material and the length of the joint.
Spliced rods can be made nearer a true taper, for obvious reasons;
although there is no doubt that a spliced rod is stronger and much more
perfect in casting qualities, yet they require such care to preserve the
delicate ends of the splice, and are so troublesome in many ways, that
few will use them.
The details of rod-making having been so often told, I do not purpose
making any suggestions on that subject, but will say that, in order
to make a good fly-rod, the maker ought to know how to handle it, when
finished.
I believe in a very narrow reel, and use one that is only one-half inch
between outside plates. As both outside and spool plates are perforated,
my line never mildews or gets tender. Hence, it is unnecessary to take
the line off to dry it, as should be done when solid reel plates are
used.
With such a reel my line never tangles. If your reel be narrow between
plates, and large in circumference, it will take up line rapidly, and
obviate the use of a multiplier, which is objectionable for fly-fishing.
A light click is desirable, just strong enough to hold the handle and
keep the line from over-running. More friction is of no use, and may
cause you the loss of many fish.
Experience satisfies me that you should use your reel on the under side
of your rod, with handle towards the right—because the weight of the
reel so placed holds the rod in proper position without your giving it
a thought, and your right hand finds the reel handle without trouble;
because your reel is thus entirely out of the way of your arm; because
with the rod always in proper position, your left hand finds the line
every time, to draw it from the reel when wanted for a longer cast;
because with the reel on the under side the rod is always exactly
balanced, and you will not have to grasp it with anywhere near the force
required with the reel on the upper side. And you can make your casts
with ease and lay out your flies gently and more accurately than you
could with the firmer grip needful to be kept on the rod with the reel
in the latter position, and because, without constant attention,
your reel is never on the upper side of the rod to any certainty, but
anywhere and everywhere. Keep your reels well oiled.
Enamelled, or water-proof, braided silk, tapered, American fly-lines,
are the best made for fly-fishing. It is important that the size of
the line should be adapted to the rod. A heavy line on a very light rod
would be bad. A very light line on a heavy rod would be worse. No. 3 or
E, and Ko. 4 or E, are the two best sizes. I find many are inclined to
use too light lines, supposing the lighter the line the less trouble
there will be in casting it. This, I think, is an error.’
It is impossible to cast well against or across the wind, with a
very light line; and very light lines do not “lay out” as easily or
accurately as heavier ones.
Leaders, or casting lines, I like rather heavy, proportionate to the
line. To use a very light leader on a Ko. 4 line is not well; for
what is the leader but a continuation of the line? Therefore it should
approximate the size of the line, that there may be no sudden change in
size where the leader begins, in order that the flies shall keep ahead,
where they belong.
Leaders should be made with loops at proper intervals, to which the
flies are to be attached. Leaders with such loops will last at least
twice as long as those without them.
Three flies are generally used; perhaps two are just as good. But I use
three and often find the increased number to work well, as presenting a
greater variety to the fickle notions of the many trout, and it is best
to take all the chances.
The first dropper loop should be about thirty inches from the
stretcher, or tail-fly. Second dropper, twenty-four inches above first
dropper—depending somewhat on the length of the leader. Let the
flies be as far apart as I have indicated. A greater distance is not
objectionable—a lesser is.
Leaders should be tapered and made of the best quality of round gut.
“Mist colored” or stained leaders are, by many, thought to be better
than the clear white gut; but I must say I never have been able to see
that they are, or that there is any difference, practically. There is no
great objection to the colored leaders, and I use them myself usually.
I will not undertake to settle the much-discussed question. Either plain
or colored are good enough, if properly made and from good gut.
Always let your leader lie in the water awhile before commencing to
cast, that the gut may soften—or you may lose your leader, fish and
temper, and blame some one because you think you have been cheated, when
no one was in fault but yourself in your haste. When you have finished
fishing, wind your leader around your hat, and the next time you use
it it will not look like a cork-screw, and bother you half an hour in
casting.
To one who has not acquired the art of fishing with the fly, let
me suggest that a day or two with an expert will save much time and
trouble. There are many little things that cannot well be described, and
would take a long time to find out by experience, that can be learned
very quickly when seen. It is not easy to tell one exactly how to fish
with the fly.
I remember well my first trout; I remember as well, the first fine rod
and tackle I ever saw, and the genial old gentleman who handled them.
I had thought I knew how to fish with the fly; but when I saw my old
friend step into the stream and make a cast, I just wound that line of
mine around the “pole” I had supposed was about right, and I followed
an artist. (I never used that “pole” again.) I devoted my time that
afternoon to what to me was a revelation, and the quiet, cordial way
in which the old gentleman accepted my admiration, and the pleasure he
evidently took in lending to me a rod until I could get one, is one of
the pleasant things I shall always retain in memory.
To really enjoy fly-fishing one must be able to cast at least fairly
well; to cast a very long line is not at all important—to cast
easily and gently is. Fifty to sixty feet is all that is necessary for
practical purposes, the great majority of trout are taken within forty
feet.
It is not easy to tell one how to cast. The art must be acquired by
practice. As I have said, much can be learned by observing an expert.
There is one great mistake made by most beginners; i.e., far too much
strength is used. Let me suggest to the novice to begin with the line
about the length of the rod; learn to lay that out gently, and as you
take your flies off the water, do it with a quick movement, decreasing
the motion until your rod is at an angle of not quite forty-five degrees
behind you, this angle to be varied according to circumstances which
cannot be foreseen. Then the rod must come to a short pause, just long
enough to allow the line and leader time to straighten out fairly, no
more. Then the forward motion must be made with a degree of force and
quickness in proportion to the length of line you have _out_, decreasing
the force until the rod is about horizontal; do not bring your rod to
a sudden stop, or your line and your flies will come down with a splash
and all in a heap; but lay your line out gently, my friend, and your
flies will fall like snowflakes. It is not muscle but “gentle art” that
is required. “Take it easy” and keep trying.
In an open space, from a boat for instance, take your flies very nearly
straight off the water; never dropping the point of your rod much to the
right, as this leaves your line on the water and makes it hard to lift.
Take your flies up with a quick movement, nearly vertical, and wait for
them to straighten and cast again directly towards the point to which
you wish them to go.
After you have acquired the skill to cast straight ‘before you will be
time enough for you to practise side casts, under casts, etc., that you
will have to use where there are obstacles before and behind you. The
same movements to cast and retrieve your lines, will apply under all
circumstances, whether in open water or on streams overhung with trees,
or fringed with bushes. Much vexatious catching of flies may be avoided
by not being too eager, and by not using too long a line. Let me
add—just before your flies touch the water, draw back your rod slightly
and gently; this will straighten the line, and your flies will fall
exactly where you want them.
Cast your flies so that they fall as lightly as possible, with your
leader extended to its full length; then draw your flies in the
direction you wish, being careful not to draw them too far, or you will
have trouble in retrieving your line for another cast. With your rod too
perpendicular you cannot lift your line quickly enough to carry it back
with sufficient force to straighten it out, and your next cast will be
a failure. There is also much danger of breaking your rod. Usually you
will get your rise just an instant after your flies touch the water, or
before you have drawn them more than a little distance. It is better
to cast often and draw your flies back just far enough so that you can
easily lift your line for another cast. Moreover, with your rod too
perpendicular it is not easy to hook your fish; so cast often and cover
all parts of the pool.
I think most skilful fly-fishers draw their flies with a slightly
tremulous motion, to make the flies imitate the struggles of an insect,
and I believe it to be a good method. It certainly is not objectionable,
and you will find it can be done without thought; the habit once formed
and it will be difficult for you to draw your flies otherwise.
The instant you see a rise at one of your flies, strike quickly, but not
too strongly, nor with a long pull, but with a short, sharp motion, not
too strong or long enough to raise even a small fish from the water, but
just enough to drive the hook firmly in. This may be done by an upward
and inward motion, or a side motion, as circumstances may dictate. A
slight turn of the wrist is often all that is required; but if you have
a long line out, you will have to use your arm and more force. Your
fish hooked, keep him well in hand; don’t give him any more line than
is necessary. When he is determined to run, let him do so; but keep
your fingers on the line and put all the strain on him you safely can,
increasing the strain the further he goes. Turn him as soon as possible,
and the instant you have done so, begin to reel him in. When he runs
again, repeat the dose and get his head out of the water a little as
soon as you dare. This exhausts him quickly. Don’t raise him too far out
of the water, or in his struggles he will break loose.
Should a fish try to run under the boat, reel up until your line is no
longer than your rod, or nearly so, then firmly guide him around the
end—remembering always “it is skill against brute force.”
In stream-fishing, always wade if you can. When fishing from a boat
never stand up if you can help it, but learn to cast sitting down. It
is just as easy if you once learn how. On streams it is better to wade,
because your feet produce no jar for you cannot well raise them out of
the water, and dare not often. And for various reasons a person alarms
the fish less in wading than in fishing from the bank.
Fish down stream always if possible. You can, in so doing, look over the
pools and approach them to the best advantage. It is easier to wade with
the current, and as you cast your flies you can let them float naturally
for just an instant, without their being drawn under the surface. This
instant is the time that, in a great majority of cases, you get your
rise. Every one who has fished much with a fly knows how often he has
whipped every inch of a pool and failed to get a rise where he was sure
his flies could be seen from any part of it, and at last, when he placed
his flies in one particular spot, his hopes were realized in an instant.
Why did not the trout rise before? Because he waited until his food came
to him.
In streams, especially, trout usually rise an instant after the flies
touch the water, and I believe that trout in streams commonly wait for
their food to come to them, and do not often dart out from where they
are lying to any great distance, but wait until the fly comes nearly or
quite over them, and then rise to the surface and take the fly with a
snap and instantly turn head down to regain the position they had left.
In doing this they often turn a somersault and throw themselves out of
the water; as they go over, their tails come down on the water with a
splash, which some persons think is intentionally done to strike the fly
or insect in order to kill or injure it and then afterwards capture
it. Such persons fail to see the trout’s head at all, for very often it
barely comes to the surface, but the quick motion to go down throws the
tail up and over—hence the error, as I consider it. Any one who will
take the trouble to throw house flies to trout in an aquarium, will
never again think trout strike their prey with their tails.
The kinds of flies to be used vary with the locality, stream, state and
stage of the water, weather, etc. The fly that pleased the fancy of the
trout to-day—to-morrow perhaps in the same stream and under the same
conditions, as far as any one could see, would fail. The only way is to
keep trying until the one is found that _does_ please. Don’t change too
often, but give each “cast” a fair trial.
I do not believe in certain flies for certain months in the year. I have
stood up to my knees in snow and taken trout, in mid-winter, with the
same flies I had used in mid-summer.
In low, clear water, especially in streams, small flies should be used.
In higher water, larger flies are better, as a rule. When the water is
high—as early in the season—larger and brighter-colored flies may be
used to more advantage. Later, when the water is low and clear, smaller
flies and more sober colors are best. I believe, however, that rules for
the choice of flies have a great many exceptions, and the best rule I
know of, is to keep trying different kinds and sizes until successful.
It is often said, “there is no need of so great a variety of flies.” I
do not think this is true. Doubtless there are many styles that might
well be dispensed with, but one never knows which to discard, and no
man can tell him, for the very flies one man would say were worthless,
another would consider the best—and prove it, plainly, by the success
he had had with that very fly. So it is well to be provided with many
kinds and sizes. I have learned of the merits of so many different kinds
of flies that I sometimes think nearly all are good—at some time or
under some circumstances. There is much doubt in my mind as to the
necessity of having the artificial flies like the insects that are near
or on the water. One of the best flies that has ever been known—the
Coachman—does not in the least resemble any known insect, I
believe—and but few of the many patterns made imitate anything in
nature. The Cowdung fly, another one of the most “taking” flies—_does_
very much resemble the natural fly of that name—but I never saw or
heard of their being on or near the water.
Early in the season, while the weather is yet cold, the middle of the
day is usually quite as good, and I think the best time for fly-fishing.
Later, in warm weather, the evening is the best, and often the last two
hours of a pleasant day are worth all the rest of it.
Generally speaking, a gentle southerly breeze is the most favorable
wind; yet I have had splendid sport during a strong north-easterly wind,
but not often.
In conclusion, be patient and persevering, move quietly, step lightly,
keep as much out of sight of the fish as possible, and remember, trout
are not feeding all the time. Perhaps during the last hour before dark
you may fill your basket, that has been nearly empty since noon. Don’t
give up, as long as you can see—or even after—and you may when about
to despair take some fine large fish.
Unless one can enjoy himself fishing with the fly, even when his efforts
are unrewarded, he loses much real pleasure. More than half the intense
enjoyment of fly fishing is derived from the beautiful surroundings,
the satisfaction felt from being in the open air, the new lease of life
secured thereby, and the many, many pleasant recollections of all one
has seen, heard and done.
BASS FLIES.