Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1891-11-19
BUT 1T WAS SPORT.
A Writer in Forest and Stream Tells of
His Bass Fishing.


and small hook, which, if of good
quality, / found superior to large
ones, even for large bass-I cast a
crawtish under the shadow of a bush
on the opposite side of the stream.
When the bait had sunk few inches
/ saw the graceful form of a bass as
he gently rose, took it in his mouth,
and disappeared. / did not feel him
at the end of my line, and yet, in an
other sense, / felt that he was there.
Waiting moment for him to swallow
the bait, | gave a sudden jerk and
had him hooked. Then the fight
commenced, and I knew that he was
big fellow. For a long time / did
not see him. He went low down and
staid there.
The bass on my hook was not
alarmed as yet. That was good bait,
and he was resolved to keep it, though
it must have occurred to him that it
was wonderfully strong and was MAX
ing most frantic efforts to get away
from him. He was mad, he sulked.
But presently he seemed to get scared.
A thought suddenly struck him
that he had better try to
get away from that craw-
fish. There must be something
dangerous back of it. He reared, he
plunged. My reel hummed as he
went off down stream. After a little
I checked him, and he started back,
and it was we'll that my reel multi
piled, or l would have had too much
line on my hands.
My bass got wild and frantic. I
got him close enough to the top to see
him now. He made some beautiful
leaps, three or four feet above the
water, but [ held taut line. After
a half hour of plunging he was tired
and sick. He only resisted by his
weight and [ was dragging him to
within reach of my dip-net.. had
gotten him in shallow water when he
made his last desperate and splendid
effort for his life. Sticking his head
out of the water he opened his mouth
to it's fullest extent, and with a
savage jerk he disgorged the whole
contents of his stomach, and sent
minnoWs, crawf1sh, bugs, fies-or
rather their remains-fying for yards
in all directions-a pint or more
the earnings of a whole mornings
yigilant voracity. He hated to give
them up, but he had swallowed the
hook and he knew that the trouble
was there.
He did not disengage the hook, but
when he made that sturdy jerk in the
air my line snapped just above the hook
it had become rotten in the few
days since [ had used it, and [ had
foolishly failed to test it thoroughly.
But had not expected such fish.
[ felt very weak "about the gills."
I sat down and rested. That fish
''grew upon me-" The more / medi-
tated upon him and the way he had
fought me the larger he became in my
eyes. That last time he opened his
jaws was very vivid, it seemed to me
I could have gotten my head into his
mouth.
cat the very least" said I, che was
a seven-pounder."
But [ did not long sit thus. Break
ing off the rotten end of my line [
rugged up again. After some little
casting [ hooked another bass, and
my former experiences were repeated,
with the exception Of the last feature.
J. landed him and he weighed Al
pounds.
During the day, varying my bait
between live minnoWs and crawfisb
and casting them into promising spots
under the bushes, / killed eight black
bass ranging in weight from 2 to Al
pounds. And the browning and most
exquisite satisfaction of the whole
days sport was that one of the fish
[ killed was the same one that [ had
first hooked and lost. My hook with
gut attached was still sticking in his
gullet. He was a buck, but only
weighed 81 pounds.
For weeks afterward I ruminated
with delight over the events of that
day, and still have an agreeable pic
ture impressed upon my brain of the
bronze and old gold sides of a magnif1-
cent bass glinting in the sun as he
rose Ikea cork through the nile-green
water under the green bushes and
seized my hook-and then the heroic
struggle.
Dore's Ligntning-Like Sketching.