The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1895-02-20
A BULL ON A FLY ROD.
LIVELY EPISODE OF A DAYS FISHING
IN CALIFORNIA.


The Red Shawl of One of the Ladies' In
the Party Started the Fun, and the Skill
full Angler Gave an Exhibition Not Com
mon on TroutIng Trip.
Travelling overland from Santa Bar
bara to San Luis Obispo, " said tourist
recently returned from southern Cali
fornia, our journey as far as Los Olives
was by stage. OF the beautiful land and
water scenery along the route of our
stage ride two features particularly i'm
pressed me. One was the backward view
from the summit of the coast noun
tains, with Santa Barbara, IL miles
back. clustered ON the left and right of
its white Main street, the islands be-
yond and the blue Pacific.
''The second was the river that we
forded shortly before arriving at Los
Olives. 1t was type of water course
common in California, with wide,
deep bed, perfectly dry, except where o
clear little stream rippled its way along
narrow channel through sand and
gravel, winding and eddying round bars
and powders. A man might leap across
it in many places, and the water did not
come nearly to the wheel hubs as the
stage rolled through it.
cat Los Olives, which we reached at
8 o'clock p. M, one Of the dishes served
at our excellent supper was trout,
caught, as we learned, in the pretty,
clear stream we had crossed. That deter
mined us to stay over day at the sta
ton to try the fishing. We got out our
tackle and had day Of great sport. To
reach the water we had to get down the
steep river banks and follow the dry bed
| through which the little stream seemed
to pick its way. The trout we caught
were Of the black spotted mountain va
riety, ranging from 9 to IA inches in
length and averaging about three to the
pound. Smaller ones we put back In the
water.
"But there was an experience more
exciting than fishing to come before the
day was ended. At noon the ladies Of
our party came by wagon to join us al
luncheon, and they accompanied us in
the afternoons fishing Toward night.
when we had worked we'll up toward
the mountains, some cattle came down
to the stream to drink, and without ap.
parent provocation lively young bull
began to paw the ground and below I'M
pleasantly and followed these demon
strations up by charging upon our party.
Looking up from my fishing at this
juncture, saw that it was the red plaid
shawl of one of the ladies that had ex-
cited the animals hostility. Calling to
| her to throw down the shawl and for
them all to run, threw stones at the
bull to divert his attention, while the
other gentlemen of tho party helped
them up the steep bank, where the bull
could not follow. The bull stopped al
tho shawl, tossed it about in an ugly
manner. and then, turning his attention
to me, gave me sharp run across the
sands to the bank. / got there all right,
carrying my rod, with the line and
leader flying behind, but just as struck
the top of the bank felt q sudden jerk
of the rods tip, and turning saw that
one of my fly hooks had caught the bull
in the nostril.
| at was one of the queerest catches
| imagine that ever q fisherman made,
and literally played that bull with a
fly rod for quarter of an hour. I owed
him no good will, and besides wanted
to save my tackle. The nostril of bull,
as you probably know, is exquisitely
sensitive to pain, and with my strong,
flexible split bamboo rod, duplicating
reel and stout gut leader at the end of a
hundred feet Of braided silk managed
to hold the big creature under control.
He couldn't seem to make out what had
got him by the nose, but he knew that
1t hurt him worse whenever he tried to
break away, and to increase the mystery
there was all the time dangling and
switching before his eyes big, bright
red bass fly that had left ON my leader
as an experiment in trout fishing. He
would strike at it with his horns, and
his rage at finding he couldn't hit 1t.
and that 1t came back at him every time,
was oomioal to witness-from place Of
safety, of course.
"From time to time the bull would
charge upon the shawl and toss that
about, and then had to work the reel
and tip for all they were worth to save
all my tackle from going by the board.
At last, in one Of these furious charges,
as he lifted the shawl on his horns / felt
something give away, and at the same
moment the shawl went up into the air.
The hook had torn loose from his nostril,
and two of the hooks on the leader
were fast in the shawl. dropped the
rod and pulled line and shawl in, hand
over hand, like a Cape Cod fisherman
hauling pollock. The bull didn't tumble
to the situation until had got the
shawl nearly to the bank, and then he
came for 1t, but it was too late. Iwhip.
ped the shawl up to where we were
standing just as his head butted the per-
pendicular bank with a thud that
brought down shower Of earth.
1.-The shawl carried good deal Of
sand and had some holes in it, but there
was no disposition to complain on the
part Of its owner. We thought we had
enough fishing for one day, and leaving
our enemy down in the river bed paving
sand and believing his anger we took
our wagon thankfully for the hotel. -
New York Sun.
The Crimson Clifs.