The Stark County Democrat. [volume] (Canton, Ohio) 1833-1912, 1875-02-18
4 .s7RU0GLE WI7YA Salmon

the river was tearing lnIouBn ho iuNNl
porges to the sea in one wild rush o
swirling, foam-hecked water. The up
per pool had yielded small fish of olb.
and as passed on to the next and saw
the wild state it was in, | began to feal
that, unless the first held another fish
my bag for that day would be light
enough. However, more to rest the up
per pool than in hopes of seeing any
thing, cast we'll out where the water
steadied little at the tail of the pool
Nothing responded, and Twas thinking
how impossible it was for any fishto see
a fly in such a tumult Of peat-colored
water when the water broke with the
unmistakable boil of good salmon
The driving rain prevented me seeing
very clearly, but l felt certain / had
missed him, when the line tightened
suddenly, and he shot two feet into the
air. Again, again, again-hye times in
as many seconds-did he flash out Of
the water, followed by mad rush to the
other side, and bewildering one back
to my feet, after which he retired to the
depths of the pool, giving me time to
pull myself together, and recover my
breath For some minutes he remains
steady, working the line with a swaying
motion, as if he was rubbing the hook
on the stones; luckily, it big one, on
double gut. But this cannot go on; so,
Stacking the strain somewhat, we drop
diminutive pebble some yards from
him. Nonotice We try larger stone,
rather nearer him; he shifts slowly a
few yards, but will move no further,
We shower gravel on him, but he treats
it all with sullen disdain. Still the
same swaying motion continues.
The pool nanows slightly at its end
before the water finds exit in a mad
rush of boiling water. There is not an
other pool in such flood for half a mile;
and we'll | know that should strong
fish once get into that mill race it will re-
uuire powerful tackle and cautious hand
ling to prevent him breaking away But
anything is better than this determined
sulk, and the swaying motion is making
me uneasy. A rock juts well out into
the pool, about four yards above the
rush. | tell my gillie--a bare-legged
Iaddie of twelve summers-to lie down
on this rock while work the salmon be-
low him. and then to jump up and fling
about his arms. put strong strain on
the fish, and manage to get him close to
the rock but below it, when with a
shout the boy jumps to his feet, 1t is
effectual, with a vengeance; my rod is
nearly wrenched from my hands, while
a black streak in the foaming water be-
low shows me that at last he is fairly off.
We are not long after him; but run as
we may, there is some forty yards of line
out before we get on at all equal terms;
and it is not till we reach quieter part
of the river, where the water widens
and shadows, before it is cut into by a
long narrow island, that fairly get
pull 90 him.. Here for time he rests,
while survey the ground. The main
stream unluckily is the further one, and
to reach it on an ordinary day would be
easy enough; but to-day the water is
rushing down the nearer branch in
way that is not pleasant to contemplate.
make up my mind that, should he take
the further stream, must hold on and
let him break However, ! don't mean
to be beaten without fight, and try to
coax or force him down our side.
For some ten minutes he sails about,
not able seemingly to make up his mind
which passage he prefers-sometimes
within few feet of the bank, at others
so close to the nearer stream that | think
he means to have it, but always out of
sight, and as fresh as at the beginning.
Sud denly there is a boil in the water,
and l see the line cutting the water
straight for the further side Nothing
can stop him, feel intuitively and the
next moment am staggering through
the strong current and rough stones to
reach the island. Now crossing a river
at any time is slow work, but when the
water is strong and as black as your hat,
and you are holding wild fish, the
difficulties are considerably increased
Before | reach the island the salmon is a
long way down the river, and the line is
caught round a stone. To lower the
point of the rod till it touches the water
is the work of second, but my heart
stands still till the loosened line tightens
again. | race down the length of the
island without pause, and recross the
smaller stream in quieter but horribly
deep water. 1t is grim earnest now, and
no mistake. The fish is going head
first for the sea, now not more than half
a mile ahead, not rushing violently, but
sailing down in sullen, determined
follow on the bank, and as |
run keep all the strain on him my rod
will stand. A wide peat-hag comes in
my way. There is no time to pause. |
go at it grimly, only to plunge into the
soft mud over the knees. am pulled
out by my gillie, who has crossed higher
up; and the race continues. The bank
in front of me rises steep and perpen-
dicular, as the river swirls underneath it
and then dashes off at right angles.
This is the dangerous part, | know; for
ascend that bank must. When the top
is reached the fish is far below me, and
my reel is very nearly empty, while the
wind bulges the line with force | think
must break everything But the bad bit
is passed, and | dash down the opposite
side, reeling up as go. We are very
near the sea now: 900 yards will put
him out of my reach; and there are no
signs OF his stopping. send my boy
ahead, telling him to use his gaff at the
faintest opportunity, while | try to work
the fish towards the bank. Not for one
instant does he stop his downward Ca
reer; but, by taking advantage of the
stream, manage to get him pretty close
to our side. AS he passes my glllie, who
is over his knees in the river, he clips
him cleverly, but drops him again half
in and half out of the water. The quick
little fellow is on to him before he can
lurch back into the deep water, and,
with both his thumbs in his gills, carries
him triumphantly up the bank. There
we discover the secret of his strength; he
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