Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1891-05-29
FISHING IN NORTH CAROLINA,
A California Rainbow Trout Gives an
Angler Some Good Sport.

A California Rainbow Trout Gives an
Angler Some Good Sport.
Arrived at the fishing grounds l put on
q whip consisting of a green drake, coach
man and brown hackle, and made a few
casts and captured as many fair fish.
While standing on a rock at the foot of a
small still pool l CHANGED to see a good
sized fish rise to a fly between two large
rocks lower down, where the stream, con-
tracted to one-tenth it's natural width,
made its escape from the pool. At once l
dropped a fly to the spot. With a sudden
ness that forced my heart into my mouth
and caused my reel fairly to scream I felt
apull.
Though, little looking for such a recep-
ton to my fly, l at first felt a little excited,
the old instincts of fly fisher soon brought
me to my senses. AS I Immediately per-
celved that l had no common fish to han
die, I braced myself more firmly on my
narrow foot space and prepared for the
fight. Had his lordship concluded to con-
tinue the down stream course he started
on all would have been ended, as, once
through the narrow space between the
rocks, no leader in the world would have
stood the chatting. Luckily for me, he con-
cluded that up stream was where he be-
longed, so at me he came with such speed
that the most rapid Keeling and skillful
manipulation of my rod failed to dispose
of the slack.
Again | feared he was gone, but soon the
sudden tightening of the line announced
he was still with me. AS soon us he felt
the line tighten he rushed madly to the
top, and as he leaped high in the air l rec
ognized from the brilliant scarlet of his
side that he was a California rainbow trout
of no mean size.
AS the pool was of the smallest and the
sharp edged rocks above and below por-
tended danger to my tackle, l determined
to keep him us near me as possible, even at
the risk of a tip. For several minutes,
with tip and butt almost meeting, the
fierce struggle went on. Sometimes leap
ing in the air and vainly trying to knock
the hook out of his mouth with his tail,
then to the bottom, where he would sulk
till | almost feared he had got under some
rock and was lost to me.
But my trusty little rod "a seven ounce
lancewood) did me good service, and after
a battle of several minutes he gradually
tnrned on his side and l reeled in carefully.
Feeling for my landing net l remembered
for the first time what kind of one | had,
but hating to ask aid | went for him with
. that.
At sight of my flag of truce the gentle
man from California concluded that he
wasn't so far gone as he thought, and away
he went braced for another tussle. This
was a short one, however, as he soon came
to hand again. l attempted the white rag
again. but he showed such an %antipathy to
it that | was forced to call for aid from my
chum, who was enjoying the sport from a
rock below. Soon the prize was on the
grass with the sun reflected back from his
beautifully rainbow tinted sides.
He was "a beauty without paint"
While the fight was in course | could have
sworn he was t~wenty-four inches long and
weighed at least five pounds, out a calmer
examination of him OF the grass reduced
him to about sixteen inches and one and
three-qlarter pounds. Those who have
tackled this gamiest of the salmon tribe
can readily excuse my rough guess.-For-
est and Stream.