The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-10-06
THE SHOVEL CATFISH.
He Is Very Queer, But Furnishes Ex-
cellent Sport.

Tributaries and Behavior Both
Exciting Experience.
"No queerer fish swims, +" exclaimed the
tall Missourian who was talking fish and
fishing in the Office of one of the down
town hotels the other evening, land no
1sh that will give more furious fun for
in hour or SO than our homely old shovel
lat of the west
''In all the creeks and branches tribu-
tary to tho Mississippi and Missouri one
may catch this awkward, heavy fish, and
If one be only out for cats alone he will
give rare sort. But to the Graphic fisher
man he is great nuisance, stealing the
bait as fast as 1t can be put on the hook
and seldom allowing himself to be hooked.
Despite his clumsy shape he is agile to
remarkable degree.
From side view the fish is not I'M
graceful, it's long broad nose showing an
edge and appearing as slender as a sword
Hshs weapon. His tail is sharply forked,
ind his fins large and of rakish cut. He
fften attains a length of 6 feet and
Weighs as much as so pounds. A stran-
ger whose dugout has drifted into shoal
water or up into one of the shallow bayous
where he is angling for crappie, will sud
denly be startled by loud splash hard by,
ind If he Is quick enough he may turn AMI
catch glimpse of shovel cat at work.
The great fish will throw it's entire body
put of water, double over in midair and
descend headforemost, like professional
diver. He is feeding, and as he. lives
mostly upon the tiny animalculae and
creeping things hidden in the soft, muddy
bottom this leap is necessary to give him
impetus enough to make the deep plunge.
He drives his wide shovel far into the mud,
and, turning up long furrow, catches
whatever food is washed out in the proc
ess.
ION light rod one of the big fellows
will give lively tussle, but it requires
the patience of Job and the enthusiasm
of an Ike Walton to sit whole afternoon
and brou under hot Mississippi sun in the
iireary hope of hooking cat. The fish are
too tickle in biting to furnish reliable sport
in that way, and the market fishermen
generally resort to nets to insure CATCH
'tBut the real hair raising, line stretch
Ing, bubble tossing fun is spearing. We
used to always choose gray day, when the
sky was overcast and no breeze blowing
to ruffie the surface of the water. Two of
us would set out for the branch about two
hours before sunset, armed with short
homemade harpoon, consisting of steel
barbed head loosely setiin o ihckory shaft
To ring in the lance head was made fast
about 100 feet of heavy line 4 Arriving at.
the bank of the creek, we would but of III
cottonwood limb to lash to the cid Rous'
line, to act as foatif we had. tp let the
whole business 60 overheard. Then one
would paddle the dugout while the other
stood in the bow watching for the shovel
ers. OF course we had to hunt only in the
shadows, not only because the fish were
more plentiful there, but because the spear
was uncertain in more than four or five
feet of water. When we had located our
victim, who would be turning splashing
somersaults far ahead, the man at the pad
dies would make for the spot where the
shoveier last went down. The sportsman,
peering ahead, could dimly make out the
huge fellow at his mud blowing toll and
waiting until he was fairly over his prey
would send the steel a-whirling.
what a foam OF yellow mud then, and
If he had struck big one how our leaky
old dugout would roll and jump as we were
dragged up creek by the mad shoveler.
The furry is short, however, for the steel
soon exhausts the energy and courage of
the fish. But the first few moments of
excitement are wild. Many and many a
time our dngout upset, and we would swim
and wade through the water and mud to
shore, dragging our shipwrecked craft and
our yet unconquered captive behind us.
'sOnce remember leaving school with
my cousin Jed at noon time recess and
hooking off to the creek for shoyelers
L g.. 4-x-o,,
found out, but that danger only added an
other charm. We had hidden our spear
under willow root the day before, andIi
a few moments we had it and were af1oat
Oh a raft of old boards. We were only
small shavers-Jed 10 and II years old
and could pole our vessel only very
slowly. For long time we saw no game.
Jed remarked uneasily that we were
drawing near our house, which then stood
on the bank of tho creek about mile
above where we had started. We had
both taken off our trousers for fear the
swash of the river would wet them, and
thus betray US at supper time, and stood
with our shirts tapping in the breeze
two eager sportsmen Ii such ever lived.
''Just as sighted the house around the
bend through the young cottonwoods
ing out clothes on the line Jed gave a long
'shsh, and bending forward sent his spear
flying with all his might. An angry
splash answered, and I was terrified to see
Jed's blue shirt and white legs tumble
headlong from the raft. He had struck a
monster and was being towed down
stream at lively rate. We could both
swim like ducks, and I, like a flash, dived
after him. After being yanked along for
200 yards or moro we struck a shoal sand
bar, where we got foothold. just as we
had begun to gain bit and were hauling
the giant cat landward we heard a yell
from the shore and were both petrified to
see mother standing there with a switch.
AT every plunge of the shoveler she gave
another shout, and it was the greatest re-
lief my heart ever knew when, as we came
nearer, she shook her fist and screamed:
IS Eff you two young uns let that thar
fhovel nose git away, I'll cane yer till yer
both walk bowlegged. will, say
"And," concluded the big man, rising
ind knocking the ashes out of his corncob,
ltyou can wager we landed that fish, for