Transcriber’s Note
When italics were used in the original book, the corresponding text has
been surrounded by _underscores_. Some corrections have been made to the
printed text. These are listed in a second transcriber’s note at the end
of the text.
SALMONIA:
OR
DAYS OF FLY FISHING.
IN
A SERIES OF CONVERSATIONS.
WITH
SOME ACCOUNT OF THE HABITS OF FISHES BELONGING
TO THE GENUS SALMO.
BY AN ANGLER.
——“Equidem credo quia sit divinitus illis Ingenium.”
FIRST AMERICAN FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION.
PHILADELPHIA:
CAREY AND LEA—CHESNUT STREET.
........
1832.
E. MERRIAM AND CO. PRINTERS,
Brookfield, Mass.
TO
WILLIAM BABINGTON,
M.D. F.R.S.
THESE CONVERSATIONS ARE DEDICATED,
IN REMEMBRANCE
OF SOME DELIGHTFUL DAYS PASSED IN HIS
SOCIETY,
AND IN GRATITUDE
FOR AN UNINTERRUPTED FRIENDSHIP OF
A
QUARTER OF A CENTURY.
PREFACE.
THESE pages formed the occupation of the Author during some months of
severe and dangerous illness, when he was wholly incapable of attending
to more useful studies, or of following more serious pursuits. They
constituted his amusement in many hours, which otherwise would have been
unoccupied and tedious; and they are published in the hope, that they
may possess an interest for those persons, who derive pleasure from the
simplest and most attainable kind of rural sports, and who practice the
art, or patronize the objects of contemplation, of the Philosophical
Angler.
The conversational manner and discursive style were chosen as best
suited to the state of health of the Author, who was incapable of
considerable efforts and long-continued attention; and he could not but
have in mind a model, which has fully proved the utility and popularity
of this method of treating the subject—_The Complete Angler_, by Walton
and Cotton.
The characters, chosen to support these Conversations, are—HALIEUS, who
is supposed to be an accomplished fly fisher; ORNITHER, who is to be
regarded as a gentleman generally fond of the sports of the field,
though not a finished master of the art of angling; POIETES, who is to
be considered as an enthusiastic lover of nature, and partially
acquainted with the mysteries of fly fishing; and PHYSICUS, who is
described uninitiated as an angler, but as a person fond of inquiries in
natural history and philosophy.
These personages are of course imaginary, though the sentiments
attributed to them, the Author may sometimes have gained from
recollections of real conversations with friends, from whose society
much of the happiness of his early life has been derived; and in the
portrait of the character of HALIEUS, given in the last dialogue, a
likeness, he thinks, will not fail to be recognized to that of the
character of a most estimable Physician, ardently beloved by his
friends, and esteemed and venerated by the public.
He has limited his description of fish to the varieties of the Salmo
most usual in the fresh waters of Europe, and which may be defined as a
genus having eight fins, the one above the tail fleshy, and without
spines.
It is to be hoped M. Cuvier’s new work on fishes will supply accurate
information on this genus, which is still very imperfectly known.
_Laybach, Illyria,
Sep. 30, 1828._
CONTENTS.
FIRST DAY.
Vindication of fly-fishing—Poem in praise of Walton—Distinguished
anglers—Fishing, a natural, philosophical, and scientific
pursuit—Scenery—Fish possessed of little sensibility—Praise of
fly-fishing—Field-sports related to natural history—Proposed fishing
excursion—Comparison of a river to human life
Page 13-29
SECOND DAY.
Trout fishing—Flies—May-fly and gray drake—Alder fly—Object of
fishing—Escape of a fish after being hooked—Sense of smelling in
fish—Baits—The natural fly—Pricked trout—Local habits of animals—Trout
of the Colne—Throwing the fly—Trout described—Spots on
trout—Perch—Anecdote—Haunts of trout—Evening fishing—Management of a
fish when hooked—Flies of different seasons—Fishing season—Difference
of the gillaroo from trout—Diminution of flies in some rivers—Gillaroo
trout found only in Ireland—Par or samlet—Other varieties of trout—Dr.
Darwin—Experiment on trout by Mr. Tonkin of Polgaron—Cause of the
varieties of trout—Mule fish—Crossing the breed—Impregnation of the
ova of fish—Experiment of Mr. Jacobi on this point—Causes that hasten
or retard the maturity of the ova—Why fish approach shallows to
spawn—Admiration of the designs of Providence
30-91
THIRD DAY.
Morning fishing—Effect of shadows in fishing—Anecdotes illustrating the
effect of sunshine—Swallows
92-98
FOURTH DAY.
Scenery—Loch Maree—Eagles—The inn—The river Ewe—Sea trout—Poaching
highlander—Salmon—Cause of fish being drowned—Salmon—Death by
suffocation—Nature of pain—Instances of death without pain—Sea
trout—Crimping—The dinner—The double snipe—Value of temperance in
eating and drinking—Wading in boots a bad practice—Salmon and trout
compared—Varieties of salmon
99-132
FIFTH DAY.
Salmon fishing—Produce of a morning’s sport—Rivers of Norway and
Sweden—English rivers—Salmon rivers—Scotch rivers—Irish rivers—The
Sabbath day—Instincts—Instincts to animals what revelation is to man
133-170
SIXTH DAY.
Flies—Hooks—Salmon of the Ewe—Sense of smelling in animals—Salmon
fishing with pars—Food of Salmon—Indications of rainy weather—Omens
171-191
SEVENTH DAY.
Grayling—Anatomy of the grayling—Grayling fishing—Scenery—Habits of the
grayling—Grayling rivers—Baits for grayling—Generation of
eels—Migration of eels—The conger eel
192-225
EIGHTH DAY.
Scenery—Natural history—Origin of the common house fly—Bees and ants—The
libellula—Ephemeræ—Michaelmas daisy—Humble bee—Thoughts on death,
suggested by this insect
226-243
NINTH DAY.
Fishing for hucho—Hereditary instinct—Causes of variety in trout—Salmo
hucho—Taking a salmo hucho—Resemblance of the hucho to trout—Interior
of the hucho examined—Habits of the hucho—Pleasure of
angling—Cockney fishermen—Lame boy and his boats—Amusements—Sea
serpent—Kraken—Mermaid—Austrian method of conveying fish—Education—The
press—Effect of continuous fishing—Difference of rivers—Angling
for frogs—Water ouzel—Umbla—Laveret—Organization of the
hucho—Craniology—Fat and flesh of the hucho—Naturalization of fish—The
Traun—Colour of water—Colour of the ocean—Waterfalls—Reflections—The
late Mr. B. West
245-308
ADDITIONAL NOTES.
Estimable mention of Dr. Wollaston—On the supposed cross breed of the
par—On the scolopax
309
SALMONIA:
OR,
DAYS OF FLY FISHING.
FIRST DAY.
HALIEUS—POIETES—PHYSICUS—ORNITHER.
INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION—SYMPOSIAC.
_Scene, London._
PHYS.—HALIEUS, I dare say you know where this excellent trout was
caught: I never ate a better fish of the kind.
HAL.—I ought to know, as it was this morning in the waters of the
Wandle, not ten miles from the place where we sit, and it is through my
means that you see it at table.
PHYS.—Of your own catching?
HAL.—Yes, with the artificial fly.
PHYS.—I admire the fish, but I cannot admire the art by which it was
taken; and I wonder how a man of your active mind and enthusiastic
character can enjoy what appears to me a stupid and melancholy
occupation.
HAL.—I might as well wonder in my turn, that a man of your discursive
imagination and disposition to contemplation should not admire this
occupation, and that you should venture to call it either stupid or
melancholy.
PHYS.—I have at least the authority of a great moralist, Johnson, for
its folly.
HAL.—I will allow no man, however great a philosopher, or moralist, to
abuse an occupation he has not tried; and as well as I remember, this
same illustrious person praised the book and the character of the great
Patriarch of Anglers, Isaac Walton.
PHYS.—There is another celebrated man, however, who has abused this your
patriarch, Lord Byron, and that in terms not very qualified. He calls
him, as well as I can recollect, “A quaint old cruel coxcomb.”[1] I must
say, a practice of this great fisherman, where he recommends you to pass
the hook through the body of a frog with care, as though you loved him,
in order to keep him alive longer, cannot but be considered as cruel.
HAL.—I do not justify either the expression or the practice of Walton in
this instance; but remember, _I_ fish only with inanimate baits, or
imitations of them, and I will not exhume or expose the ashes of the
dead, nor vindicate the memory of Walton, at the expense of Byron, who,
like Johnson, was no fisherman: but the moral and religious habits of
Walton, his simplicity of manners, and his well-spent life, exonerate
him from the charge of cruelty; and the book of a coxcomb would not have
been so great a favourite with most persons of refined taste. A noble
lady, long distinguished at court for pre-eminent beauty and grace, and
whose mind possesses undying charms, has written some lines in my copy
of Walton, which, if you will allow me, I will repeat to you.
Albeit, gentle Angler, I
Delight not in thy trade,
Yet in thy pages there doth lie
So much of quaint simplicity,
So much of mind,
Of such good kind,
That none need be afraid,
Caught by thy cunning bait, this book,
To be ensnared on thy hook.
Gladly from thee, I’m lured to bear
With things that seem’d most vile before,
For thou didst on poor subjects rear
Matter the wisest sage might hear.
And with a grace,
That doth efface
More labour’d works, thy simple lore
Can teach us that thy skilful _lines_,
More than the scaly brood _confines_.
Our hearts and senses, too, we see,
Rise quickly at thy master hand,
And, ready to be caught by thee,
Are lured to virtue willingly.
Content and peace,
With health and ease,
Walk by thy side. At thy command
We bid adieu to worldly care,
And joy in gifts that all may share.
Gladly, with thee, I pace along,
And of sweet fancies dream;
Waiting till some inspired song,
Within my memory cherish’d long,
Comes fairer forth,
With more of worth;
Because that time upon its stream
Feathers and chaff will bear away,
But give to gems a brighter ray.
C. C. 1812.
And though the charming and intellectual author of this poem is not an
angler herself, yet I can quote the example of her lovely daughters to
vindicate fly fishing from the charge of cruelty, and to prove that the
most delicate and refined minds can take pleasure in this innocent
amusement. One of these young ladies, I am told, is a most accomplished
and skilful salmon fisher. And if you require a poetical authority
against that of Lord Byron, I mention the philosophical and powerful
poet of the lakes, and the author of
“An Orphic tale indeed,
A tale divine, of high and passionate thoughts,
To their own music chanted;”[2]
who is a lover both of fly fishing and fly fishermen. Gay’s poem you
know, and his passionate fondness for the amusement, which was his
principal occupation in the summer at Amesbury; and the late excellent
John Tobin, author of the Honey Moon, was an ardent angler.
PHYS.—I am satisfied with your poetical authorities.
HAL.—Nay, I can find authorities of all kinds, statesmen, heroes, and
philosophers; I can go back to Trajan, who was fond of angling. Nelson
was[3] a good fly fisher, and as a proof of his passion for it,
continued the pursuit even with his left hand. Dr. Paley was ardently
attached to this amusement; so much so, that when the Bishop of Durham
inquired of him, when one of his most important works would be finished,
he said, with great simplicity and good humour, “My Lord, I shall work
steadily at it when the fly fishing season is over,” as if this were a
business of his life. And I am rather reserved in introducing living
characters, or I could give a list of the highest names of Britain,
belonging to modern times, in science, letters, arts, and arms, who are
ornaments of this fraternity, to use the expression borrowed from the
freemasonry of our forefathers.
PHYS.—I do not find much difficulty in understanding why warriors, and
even statesmen, fishers of men, many of whom I have known particularly
fond of hunting and shooting, should likewise be attached to angling;
but I own, I am at a loss to find reasons for a love of this pursuit
amongst philosophers and poets.
HAL.—The search after food is an instinct belonging to our nature; and
from the savage in his rudest and most primitive state, who destroys a
piece of game, or a fish, with a club or spear, to man in the most
cultivated state of society, who employs artifice, machinery, and the
resources of various other animals, to secure his object, the origin of
the pleasure is similar, and its object the same: but that kind of it
requiring most art may be said to characterize man in his highest or
intellectual state; and the fisher for salmon and trout with the fly
employs not only machinery to assist his physical powers, but applies
sagacity to conquer difficulties; and the pleasure derived from
ingenious resources and devices, as well as from active pursuit, belongs
to this amusement. Then as to its philosophical tendency, it is a
pursuit of moral discipline, requiring patience, forbearance, and
command of temper. As connected with natural science, it may be vaunted
as demanding a knowledge of the habits of a considerable tribe of
created beings—fishes, and the animals that they prey upon, and an
acquaintance with the signs and tokens of the weather and its changes,
the nature of waters, and of the atmosphere. As to its poetical
relations, it carries us into the most wild and beautiful scenery of
nature; amongst the mountain lakes, and the clear and lovely streams
that gush from the higher ranges of elevated hills, or that make their
way through the cavities of calcareous strata. How delightful in the
early spring, after the dull and tedious time of winter, when the frosts
disappear and the sunshine warms the earth and waters, to wander forth
by some clear stream, to see the leaf bursting from the purple bud, to
scent the odours of the bank perfumed by the violet, and enamelled, as
it were, with the primrose and the daisy; to wander upon the fresh turf
below the shade of trees, whose bright blossoms are filled with the
music of the bee; and on the surface of the waters to view the gaudy
flies sparkling like animated gems in the sunbeams, whilst the bright
and beautiful trout is watching them from below; to hear the twittering
of the water-birds, who, alarmed at your approach, rapidly hide
themselves beneath the flowers and leaves of the water-lily; and as the
season advances, to find all these objects changed for others of the
same kind, but better and brighter, till the swallow and the trout
contend as it were for the gaudy May fly, and till in pursuing your
amusement in the calm and balmy evening, you are serenaded by the songs
of the cheerful thrush and melodious nightingale, performing the offices
of paternal love, in thickets ornamented with the rose and woodbine.
PHYS.—All these enjoyments might be obtained without the necessity of
torturing and destroying an unfortunate animal, that the true lover of
nature would wish to see happy in a scene of loveliness.
HAL.—If all men were Pythagoreans and professed the Brahmin’s creed, it
would undoubtedly be cruel to destroy any form of animated life; but if
fish are to be eaten, I see no more harm in capturing them by skill and
ingenuity with an artificial fly, than in pulling them out of the water
by main force with the net; and in general, when taken by the common
fishermen, fish are permitted to die slowly, and to suffer in the air,
from the want of their natural element; whereas, every good angler, as
soon as his fish is landed, either destroys his life immediately, if he
is wanted for food, or returns him into the water.
PHYS.—But do you think nothing of the torture of the hook, and the fear
of capture, and the misery of struggling against the powerful rod?
HAL.—I have already admitted the danger of analysing, too closely, the
moral character of any of our field sports; yet I think it cannot be
doubted that the nervous system of fish, and cold-blooded animals in
general, is less sensitive than that of warm-blooded animals. The hook
usually is fixed in the cartilaginous part of the mouth, where there are
no nerves; and a proof that the sufferings of a hooked fish cannot be
great is found in the circumstance, that though a trout has been hooked
and played for some minutes, he will often, after his escape with the
artificial fly in his mouth, take the natural fly, and feed as if
nothing had happened; having apparently learnt only from the experiment,
that the artificial fly is not proper food. And I have caught pikes with
four or five hooks in their mouths, and tackle which they had broken
only a few minutes before; and the hooks seemed to have had no other
effect than that of serving as a sort of _sauce piquante_, urging them
to seize another morsel of the same kind.
PHYS.—Fishes are mute, and cannot plead, even in the way that birds and
quadrupeds do, their own cause; yet the instances you quote only prove
the intense character of their appetites, which seem not so moderate as
Whiston imagined, in his strange philosophical romance on the Deluge; in
which he supposes, that in the antediluvian world the heat was much
greater than in this, and that all terrestrial and aerial animals had
their passions so exalted by this high temperature, that they were lost
in sin, and destroyed for their crimes; but that fish, living in a
cooler element, were more correct in their lives, and were therefore
spared from the destruction of the primitive world. You have proved, by
your examples, the intensity of the appetite of hunger in fishes;
Spalanzani has given us another proof of the violence of a different
appetite, or instinct, in a cold-blooded animal, that has most of the
habits of the genus—the frog; which, in the breeding season, remains
attached to the female, though a limb, or even his head, is removed from
the body.
HAL.—This is likewise in favour of my argument, that the sensibility of
this class of animals to physical pain is comparatively small.
PHYS.—The advocates for a favourite pursuit never want sophisms to
defend it. I have even heard it asserted, that a hare enjoys being
hunted. Yet I will allow that fly-fishing, after your vindication,
appears amongst the least cruel of field-sports;—I can go no farther; as
I have never thought of trying it, I can say nothing of its
agreeableness as an amusement, compared with hunting and shooting.
HAL.—I wish that you would allow me to convince you, that for a
contemplative man, as you are, and a lover of nature, it is far
superior, more tranquil, more philosophical, and, after the period of
early youth, more fitted for a moderately active body and mind,
requiring less violent exertion; and, pursued with discretion, affording
an exercise conducive to health. There is a river, only a few miles off,
where I am sure I could obtain permission for you, and our friend
Poietes, to fish.
PHYS.—I am open to conviction on all subjects, and have no objection to
spend one May-day with you in this idle occupation; premising, that you
take at least one other companion, who really loves fishing.
HAL.—You, who are so fond of natural history, even should you not be
amused by fishing, will, I am sure, find objects of interest on the
banks of the river.
PHYS.—I fear I am not entomologist enough to follow the life of the
May-fly, but I shall willingly have my attention directed to its habits.
Indeed, I have often regretted that sportsmen were not fonder of
zoology; they have so many opportunities, which other persons do not
possess, of illustrating the origin and qualities of some of the most
curious forms of animated nature; the causes and character of the
migrations of animals; their relations to each other, and their place
and order in the general scheme of the universe. It has always appeared
to me, that the two great sources of change of place of animals, was the
providing of food for themselves, and resting-places and food for their
young. The great supposed migrations of herrings from the poles to the
temperate zone have appeared to me to be only the approach of successive
shoals from deep to shallow water, for the purpose of spawning. The
migrations of salmon and trout are evidently for the purpose of
depositing their ova, or of finding food after they have spawned.
Swallows, and bee-eaters, decidedly pursue flies over half the globe;
the scolopax or snipe tribe, in like manner, search for worms and
larvæ,—flying from those countries where either frost or dryness
prevents them from boring,—making generally small flights at a time, and
resting on their travels where they find food. And a journey from
England to Africa is no more for an animal that can fly, with the wind,
one hundred miles in an hour, than a journey for a Londoner to his seat
in a distant province. And the migrations of smaller fishes or birds
always occasion the migration of larger ones, that prey on them. Thus,
the seal follows the salmon, in summer, to the mouths of rivers; the
hake follows the herring and pilchard; hawks are seen in great
quantities, in the month of May, coming into the east of Europe, after
quails and land-rails; and locusts are followed by numerous birds, that,
fortunately for the agriculturist, make them their prey.
HAL.—It is not possible to follow the amusement of angling, without
having your attention often directed to the modes of life of fishes,
insects, and birds, and many curious and interesting facts, as it were,
forced upon your observation. I consider you (_Physicus_), as pledged to
make one of our fishing party; and I hope, in a few days, to give you an
invitation to meet a few worthy friends on the banks of the Colne. And
you (_Poietes_), who, I know, are an initiated disciple of Walton’s
school, will, I trust, join us. We will endeavour to secure a fine day;
two hours, in a light carriage with good horses, will carry us to our
ground; and I think I can promise you green meadows, shady trees, the
song of the nightingale, and a full and clear river.
POIET.—This last is, in my opinion, the most poetical object in nature.
I will not fail to obey your summons. Pliny has, as well as I recollect,
compared a river to human life. I have never read the passage in his
works, but I have been a hundred times struck with the analogy,
particularly amidst mountain scenery. The river, small and clear in its
origin, gushes forth from rocks, falls into deep glens, and wantons and
meanders through a wild and picturesque country, nourishing only the
uncultivated tree or flower by its dew or spray. In this, its state of
infancy and youth, it may be compared to the human mind in which fancy
and strength of imagination are predominant—it is more beautiful than
useful. When the different rills or torrents join, and descend into the
plain, it becomes slow and stately in its motions; it is applied to move
machinery, to irrigate meadows, and to bear upon its bosom the stately
barge;—in this mature state, it is deep, strong, and useful. As it flows
on towards the sea, it loses its force and its motion, and at last, as
it were, becomes lost, and mingled with the mighty abyss of waters.
HAL.—One might pursue the metaphor still further, and say, that in its
origin—its thundering and foam, when it carries down clay from the bank,
and becomes impure, it resembles the youthful mind, affected by
dangerous passions. And the influence of a lake, in calming and clearing
the turbid water, may be compared to the effect of reason in more mature
life, when the tranquil, deep, cool and unimpassioned mind is freed from
its fever, its troubles, bubbles, noise and foam. And, above all, the
sources of a river—which may be considered as belonging to the
atmosphere—and its termination in the ocean, may be regarded as imaging
the divine origin of the human mind, and its being ultimately returned
to, and lost in, the Infinite and Eternal Intelligence from which it
originally sprung.
SECOND DAY.
HALIEUS—POIETES—ORNITHER—PHYSICUS.
TROUT FISHING, DENHAM.—MAY, 1810.
_Morning._
HAL.—I AM delighted to see you, my worthy friends, on the banks of the
Colne; and am happy to be able to say, that my excellent host has not
only made you free of the river for this day’s angling, but insists upon
your dining with him,—wishes you to try the evening fishing, and the
fishing to-morrow morning,—and proposes to you, in short, to give up
twenty-four hours to the delights of an angler’s May-day.
POIET.—We are deeply indebted to him; and I hardly know how we can
accept his offer, without laying ourselves under too great an
obligation.
HAL.—Fear not: he is as noble minded a man as ever delighted in good
offices; and so benevolent, that I am sure he will be almost as happy in
knowing you are amused, as you can be in your sport; and he hopes for an
additional satisfaction in the pleasure of your conversation.
POIET.—So let it be.
HAL.—I will take you to the house; you shall make your bow, and then you
will be all free to follow your own fancies. Remember, the dinner hour
is five; the dressing bell rings at half-past four; be punctual to this
engagement, from which you will be free at seven.
POIET.—This is really a very charming villa scene, I may almost say, a
pastoral scene. The meadows have the verdure which even the Londoners
enjoy as a peculiar feature of the English landscape. The river is
clear, and has all the beauties of a trout stream, of the larger
size,—there rapid, and here still, and there tumbling in foam and fury
over abrupt dams upon clean gravel, as if pursuing a natural course. And
that island with its poplars and willows, and the flies making it their
summer paradise, and its little fishing-house, are all in character; and
if not extremely picturesque, it is at least a very pleasant scene, from
its verdure and pure waters, for the lovers of our innocent amusement.
HAL.-It is ten o’clock: you may put up your rods, or take rods from the
hall, for so hospitable is the master of this mansion, that every thing
is supplied to our hands. And Physicus, as you are the only one of our
party ignorant of the art of fly fishing, I will fit you with a rod and
flies; and let me advise you to begin with a line shorter than your rod,
and throw at first slowly and without effort, and imitate us as well as
you can. As for precepts, they are of little value; practice and
imitation will make you an angler.
POIET.—I shall put together my rod, and fish with my own flies. It may
be fancy, but I always think I do best with tackle with which I am used
to fish.
HAL.—You are right; for fancy is always something: and when we believe
that we can do things better in a particular way, we really do, by the
influence of imagination, perform them both better and with less effort.
I agree with moralists, that the standard of virtue should be placed
higher than any one can reach; for in trying to rise, man will attain a
more excellent state of being than if no effort were made. But to our
business. As far as the perfection of the material for the angler is
concerned, the flies you find on this table are as good as can be made,
and for this season of the year, there is no great variety on this
river. We have had lately some warm days, and though it is but the 18th
of May, yet I know the May-fly has been out for three or four days, and
this is the best period of this destructive season for the fisherman.
There are, I observe, many male flies on the high trees, and some
females on the alders.
PHYS.—But I see flies already on the water, which seem of various
colors,—brown and gray, and some very pale,—and the trout appear to rise
at them eagerly.
HAL.—The fly you see is called by fishermen the alder fly, and appears
generally in large quantities before the May-fly. Imitations of this
fly, and of the green and the gray drake of different shades, are the
only ones you will need this morning, though I doubt if the last can be
much used, as the gray drake is not yet on the water in any quantity.
PHYS.—Pray can you give us any account of these curious little animals?
HAL.—We ought to draw upon your stores of science for information on
these subjects.
PHYS.—I really know nothing of Entomology, but I am desirous of
acquiring knowledge.
HAL.—I have made few observations on flies as a philosophical
naturalist. What I know I will state at another time. But see, the green
drake is descending upon the water, and some are leaving the alders to
sport in the sunshine, and to enjoy the pleasures of their brilliant,
though short existence; and their life, naturally ephemeral, is made one
of scarcely a moment, by the fishes and birds: that which the swallow or
the duck spares is caught by the fish. The fly is new, and in the
imitation, I recommend the olive tint, or what the Irish call the green
monkey. That is, an artificial fly, with a wing of dyed yellow drake’s
feather, a body of yellow monkey’s fur, and a small quantity of olive
mohair for legs. For myself, I shall fish for some time with a large red
alder fly, and I dare say, with as much success. That is, with a fly
with a dark peacock’s harle for body, a red hackle for legs, and wings
of the land-rail below, and starling above.
POIET.—The water is quite in motion, what noble fish I see on the feed!
I never beheld a finer sight, though I have often seen the May-fly on
well-stocked waters.
HAL.—This river is most strictly preserved; not a fish has been killed
here since last August, and this is the moment when the large fish come
to the surface, and leave their cad bait search and minnow hunting. But
I have hardly time to talk; I have hold of a good fish: they take either
alder or May-fly, and having never been fished for this year, they make
no distinction, and greedily seize any small object in motion on the
water. You see the alder-fly is quite as successful as the May-fly; but
there is a fish which has refused it, and because he has been feeding,
glutton-like, on the May-fly: that is the fifth he has swallowed in a
minute. Now I shall throw the drake a foot above him. It floats down,
and he has taken it. A fine fish; I think at least 4lbs. This is the
largest fish we have yet seen, but in the deep water still lower down,
there are still greater fish. One of 5lbs. I have known taken here, and
once a fish a little short only of 6lbs.
POIET.—I have just landed a fish which I suppose you will consider as a
small one; yet I am tempted to kill him.
HAL.—He is not a fish to kill, throw him back, he is much under 2lbs.,
and, as I ought to have told you before, we are not allowed to kill any
fish of less size; and I am sure we shall all have more than we ought to
carry away even of this size. Pray put him into the well, or rather give
him to the fisherman to turn back into the water.
POIET.—I cannot say I approve of this manner of fishing: I lose my
labour.
HAL.—As the object of your fishing, I hope, is innocent amusement, you
can enjoy this, and show your skill in catching the animal; and if every
fish that took the May-fly were to be killed, there would be an end to
the sport in the river, for none would remain for next year.
PHYS.—The number of flies seems to increase as the day advances, and I
never saw a more animated water scene: all nature seems alive; even the
water-wagtails have joined the attack upon these helpless and lovely
creations from the waters.
HAL.—It is now one o’clock; and between twelve and three is the time
when the May-fly rises with most vigour. It is a very warm day, and with
such a quantity of fly, every fish in the river will probably be soon
feeding. See, below the wear, there are two or three large trout lately
come out; and from the quiet way in which they swallow their prey, and
from the size of the tranquil undulation that follows their rise, I
suspect they are the giants of this river. Try if you cannot reach them:
one is near the bank in a convenient place for a throw, for the water is
sufficiently rough to hide the deception, and these large fish do not
take the fly well in calm water, though with natural flies on the hook
they might all be raised.
POIET.—I have him! Alas! he has broken me, and carried away half my
bottom line. He must have been a fish of 7 or 8lbs. What a dash he made!
He carried off my fly by main force.
HAL.—You should have allowed your reel to play and your line to run: you
held him too tight.
POIET.—He was too powerful a fish for my tackle; and even if I had done
so, would probably have broken me by running amongst the weeds.
HAL.—Let me tell you, my friend, you should never allow a fish to run to
the weeds, or to strike across the stream; you should carry him always
down stream, keeping his head high, and in the current. If in a weedy
river you allow a large fish to run up stream, you are almost sure to
lose him. There, I have hooked the companion of your lost fish on the
other side of the stream,—a powerful creature: he tries, you see, to
make way to the weeds, but I hold him tight.
POIET.—I see you are obliged to run with him, and have carried him
safely through the weeds.
HAL.—I have him now in the rapids on the shallow, and I have no fear of
losing him, unless he strikes the hook out of his mouth.
POIET.—He springs again and again.
HAL.—He is off; in one of these somersets he detached the steel, and he
now leaps to celebrate his escape. We will leave this place, where there
are more great fish, and return to it after a while, when the alarm
produced by our operations has subsided.
PHYS.—That fish take the artificial fly at all is rather surprising to
me, for in its most perfect form it is but a rude imitation of nature;
and from the greedy manner in which it is seized, fish, I think, cannot
possess a refined sense of smell, or any nervous system corresponding to
the nasal one in animals that breathe air: no scent can be given to
water by an artificial fly, or, at least, none like that of the natural
fly.
HAL.—The principal use of the nostrils in fishes, I believe, is to
assist in the propulsion of water through the gills for performing the
office of respiration, but I think there are some nerves in these organs
which give fishes a sense of the qualities of the water, or of
substances dissolved in, or diffused through it, similar to our sense of
smell, or, perhaps, rather our sense of taste, for there can be no doubt
that fishes are attracted by scented pastes and scented worms, which are
sometimes used by anglers that employ ground-baits; and in old
angling-books there are usually receipts for attracting fish in this
manner, and though the absurdity of many of these prescriptions is
manifest, yet I do not think this proves that they are entirely useless,
for, upon such principles, all the remedies for diseases in the old
pharmacopœias would be null.
With respect to the fly, as it usually touches the stream by a very
small surface, that of the air-bubbles on the fringes on its legs, it
can scarcely affect the water so as to give it any power of
communicating smell. And as you have seen a ripple or motion on the
water is necessary to deceive fishes; and as they look at the fly from
below, they see distinctly only the legs and body, which, when the
colours are like those of the natural fly, may easily deceive them; the
wings, which are the worst imitated parts of the artificial fly, seldom
appear to them, except through the different refractive power of the
moving water and the atmosphere, and when immersed, they form masses not
unlike the wings of a drowned fly, or one wetted in rising.
* * * * *
It is now a quarter of an hour since we left the large pool: let us
return to it; I see the fish are again rising.
POIET.—I am astonished! It appears to me that the very same fish are
again feeding. There are two fish rising nearly in the same spot where
they rose before: can they be the same fish?
HAL.—It is very possible. It is not likely that three other fish of that
size should occupy the same haunts.
POIET.—But I thought after a fish had been hooked, he remained sick and
sulky for some time, feeling his wounds uncomfortable.
HAL.—The fish that I hooked is not rising in the same place, and
therefore, probably, was hurt by the hook; but one of these fish seems
to be the same that carried off your fly, and it is probable that the
hook only struck him in a part of the mouth where there are no nerves;
and that he suffered little at the moment, and does not now feel his
annoyance.
POIET.—I have seen him take four or five flies: I shall throw over him.
There, he rose, but refused the fly. He has at least learnt, from the
experiment he has made, to distinguish the natural from the artificial
fly.
HAL.—This, I think, always happens after a fish has been hooked with an
artificial fly. He becomes cautious, and is seldom caught that year, at
least with the same means in the same pool: but I dare say that fish
might be taken with a natural fly; or, what is better, two upon the
hook.
POIET.—Pray try him.
HAL.—I am no artist at this kind of angling, but Ornither I know has
fished in June with the clubs at Stockbridge, where this method of
fishing is usual. Pray let him try his fortune, though it is hardly fair
play; and it is rather to endeavour to recover your tackle, than for the
sake of the fish, that I encourage him to make the essay.
POIET.—Pray make no apologies for the trial. Such a fish—certainly a
monster for this river—should be caught by fair means, if possible, but
caught by any means.
ORN.—You lost that fish, and you overrate his size, as you will see, if
I have good luck. I put my live flies on the hook with some regret and
some disgust. I will not employ another person to be my minister of
cruelty, as I remember a lady of fashion once did, who was very fond of
fishing for perch, and who employed her daughter, a little girl of nine
years of age, to pass the hook through the body of the worm! Now there
is a good wind, and the fish has just taken a natural fly. I shall drop
the flies, if possible, within a few inches of his nose. He has risen.
He is caught! I must carry him down stream to avoid the bed of weeds
above. I now have him on fair ground, and he fights with vigour.
Fortunately, my silk worm gut is very strong, for he is not a fish to be
trifled with. He begins to be tired; prepare the net. We have him safe,
and see your link hangs to his lower jaw: the hook had struck the
cartilage on the outside of the bone, and the fly, probably, was
scarcely felt by him.
PHYS.—I am surprised! That fish evidently had discovered that the
artificial fly was a dangerous bait, yet he took the natural fly which
was on a hook, and when the silk-worm gut must have been visible.
HAL.—I do not think he saw either the gut or the hook. In very bright
weather and water, I have known very shy fish refuse even a hook baited
with the natural fly, scared probably by some appearance of hook or gut.
The vision of fishes when the surface is not ruffled is sufficiently
keen. I have seen them rise at gnats so small as to be scarcely visible
to my eye.
PHYS.—You just now said, that a fish pricked by the hook of an
artificial fly would not usually take it again that season.
HAL.—I cannot be exact on that point: I have known a fish that I have
pricked retain his station in the river, and refuse the artificial fly,
day after day, for weeks together; but his memory may have been kept
awake by this practice, and the recollection seems local and associated
with surrounding objects; and if a pricked trout is chased into another
pool, he will, I believe, soon again take the artificial fly. Or if the
objects around him are changed, as in Autumn, by the decay of weeds, or
by their being cut, the same thing happens; and a flood, or a rough
wind, I believe, assists the fly-fisher, not merely by obscuring the
vision of the fish, but, in a river much fished, by changing the
appearance of their haunts: large trouts almost always occupy particular
stations, under, or close to, a large stone or tree; and, probably, most
of their recollected sensations are connected with this dwelling.
PHYS.—I think I understand you, that the memory of the danger and pain
does not last long, unless there is a permanent sensation with which it
can remain associated,—such as the station of the trout; and that the
recollection of the mere form of the artificial fly, without this
association, is evanescent.
ORN.—You are diving into metaphysics; yet I think, in fowling, I have
observed that the memory of birds is local. A woodcock, that has been
much shot at and scared in a particular wood, runs to the side where he
has usually escaped, the moment he hears the dogs; but if driven into a
new wood, he seems to lose his acquired habits of caution, and becomes
stupid.
POIET.—This great fish, that Ornither has just caught, must be nearly of
the weight I assigned to him.
HAL.—O no! he is, I think, above 5lbs., but not 6lbs.; but we can form a
more correct opinion by measuring him, which I can easily do, the but of
my rod being a measure. He measures, from nose to fork, a very little
less than twenty-four inches, and, consequently, upon the scale which is
appropriate to well-fed trouts, should weigh 5lbs. 10oz.—which, within
an ounce, I doubt not, is his weight.
PHYS.—O! I see you take the mathematical law, that similar solids are to
each other in the triplicate ratio of one of their dimensions.
HAL.—You are right.
PHYS.—But I think you are below the mark, for this appears to me an
extraordinarily thick fish.
HAL.—He is a well-fed fish, but, in proportion, not so thick as my
model, which was a fish of 17 inches by 9 inches, and weighed 2lbs.;
this is my standard solid. We will try him. Ho! Mrs. B.!—bring your
scales, and weigh this fish. There, you see, he weighs 5lbs. 10½oz.
PHYS.—Well, I am pleased to see this fish, and amused with your sport;
but though I have been imitating you in throwing the fly, as well as I
can, yet not a trout has taken notice of my fly, and they seem scared by
my appearance.
HAL.—Let me see you perform. There are two good trout taking flies
opposite that bank, which you can reach. You threw too much line into
the water, and scared them both; but I will take you to the rapid of the
Tumbling Bay, where the river falls; there the quickness of the stream
will prevent your line from falling deep, and the foam will conceal your
person from the view of the fish. And let me advise you to fish only in
the rapids till you have gained some experience in throwing the fly.
There are several fish rising in that stream.
PHYS.—I have raised one, but he refused my fly.
HAL.—Now you have a fish.
PHYS.—I am delighted;—but he is a small one.
HAL.—Unluckily it is a _dace_.
PHYS.—I have now a larger fish, which has pulled my line out.
HAL.—Give him time. That is a good trout. Now wind up; he is tired, and
your own. I will land him. He is a fish to keep, being above 2lbs.
PHYS.—I am well pleased.
HAL.—There are many larger trouts here: go on fishing and you will hook
some of them. And when you are tired of this rapid, you will find
another a quarter of a mile below. And continue to fish with a short
line, and drop your fly, or let it be carried by the wind on the water,
as lightly as possible. Well, Poietes, what success?
POIET.—I have been fishing in the stream above; but the flies are so
abundant, that the large fish will not take my artificial fly, and I
have caught only three fish, all of which the fisherman has thrown into
the water, though I am sure one of them was more than 2lbs.
HAL.—You may trust his knowledge: with a new angler, our keeper would be
apt rather to favour the fisherman than the fish. But we will have all
fish you wish to be killed, and above 2lbs., put into the well of the
boat, where they can be examined, and, if you desire, weighed and
measured, and such kept as are worth keeping. No good angler should kill
a fish, if possible, till he is needed to be crimped; for the sooner he
is dressed after this operation the better;—and I assure you, a well-fed
trout of the Colne, crimped and cooled ten minutes before he is wanted
for the kettle or the gridiron, is a fish little inferior to the best
salmon of the best rivers. It is now nearly two o’clock, and there is a
cloud over the sun; the fly is becoming less abundant; you are now
likely, Poietes, to have better sport. Try in that deep pool, below the
Tumbling Bay; I see two or three good fish rising there, and there is a
lively breeze. The largest fish refuses your fly again and again; try
the others. There, you have hooked him; now carry him down stream, and
keep his head high, out of the weeds. He plunges and fights with great
force;—he is the best-fed fish I have yet seen at the end of the line,
and will weigh more in proportion to his length. I will land him for
you. There he is,—and measures 19 inches; and I dare say his weight is
not much short of 3lbs. We will preserve him in the well.
POIET.—He has hardly any spots, and is silvery all over; and the whole
of the lower part of his body is beautifully clean.
HAL.—He is likewise broad-backed; and you may observe his few spots are
black, and these are very small. I have always remarked, in this river,
that the nearer the fish approach to perfection, the colour of the body
becomes more uniform,—pale olive above, and bright silver below; and
these qualities are always connected with a small head,—or rather, an
oval body, and deep-red flesh.
POIET.—May not the red spots be marks of disease—a hectic kind of
beauty? For I observed in a very thin and poor fish, and great-headed,
that I caught an hour ago, which had leeches sticking to it, a number of
red spots, and a long black back, and black or bluish marks even on the
belly.
HAL.—I do not think red spots a symptom of disease; for I have seen fish
in other rivers, and even small fish in this river, in perfectly good
season, with red spots; but the colours of fish are very capricious, and
depend upon causes which cannot be easily defined. The colouring matter
is not in the scales, but in the surface of the skin immediately beneath
them, and is probably a secretion easily affected by the health of the
animal. I have known fish, from some lakes in Ireland, mottled in a most
singular way,—their colour being like that of the tortoise: the nature
of the water, exposure to the light, and probably the kind of food,
produce these effects. I think it possible, when trout feed much on hard
substances, such as larvæ and their cases, and the ova of other fish,
they have more red spots, and redder fins. This is the case with the
gillaroo and the char, who feed on analogous substances: and the trout,
that have similar habits, might be expected to resemble them. When trout
feed most on small fish, as minnows, and on flies, they have more
tendency to become spotted with small black spots, and are generally
more silvery. The Colne trout are, in their advanced state, of this
kind; and so are the trout called in Ireland buddocks and dolochans,
found in Loch Neah. Particular character becomes hereditary, and the
effects of a peculiar food influence the appearance of the next
generation. I hope, Ornither, you have had good sport.
ORN.—Excellent! Since you left me, below the wear, I have hooked at
least fifteen or twenty good fish, and landed and saved eight above
2lbs.; but I have taken no fish like the great one which I caught by
poaching with the natural flies. The trout rose wonderfully well within
the last quarter of an hour, but they are now all still; and the river,
which was in such active motion, is now perfectly quiet, and seems
asleep and almost dead.
HAL.—It is past four o’clock, and some dark, heavy clouds are come
on,—the fly is off. It is almost the hour for the signal of the dressing
bell; and there is nothing more to be done now till evening. But see!
our host is come to examine our fish in the well, and to enquire about
our sport; and, I dare say, will order some of our fish to be dressed
for the table.
HOST.—I hope, gentlemen, you have been amused?
HAL.—Most highly, sir. As a proof of it, there are in the fish-well
eighteen good trout,—and one not much short of 6lbs.; three above 4lbs.,
and four above 3lbs. in weight. I hope you will order that great fish
for your dinner.
HOST.—We will see. He is a fine fish, and fit for a present, even for a
prince—and you shall take him to a prince. Here is a fish, and there
another, of the two next sizes, which I am sure will cut red. Prepare
them, fisherman. And, Halieus, you shall catch two or three perch, for
another dish; I know there are some good ones below the piles of the
wear; I saw them hunting small fish there yesterday morning. Some
minnows, ho!—and the perch rods!