Evening bulletin. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu, Hawaii]) 1895-1912, 1912-04-27
A FISHERMAN'S
IMAGINATION

passed by group of friends, once,
who, being entertained by supreme
~ jolly and good natured and fun low
ing Creole lady from New orleans
with story about an innumerable
flock of wild canaries she had seen In
the chaparral, | remarked, en- PEASANT,
"Sapristi rlmaginationl" II broke up
the story and fed to the protection
of my tent, says an exchange.
So. few days ago. friend sent me
picture of n bass, leapng, small
mouth warrior with jaw fly impaled,
and l hung him upon my tent wall.
And why now should I long to go fish
ing? I. In my imagination, step into
the boat with, say. my old partner of
years gone by. and az the guide. see
ing all made snug and everything In,
pushes or, we light up our pipes and
gaze and breathe and gaze again, no
one speaking a word as the rhythm
of the oars and the tapping of the wa
ter immersed bow tells us we are
speeding on to the lair of. ounce for
ounce. perhaps the gamest and finest
old fighter that swims in either salt
or fresh waters-the small mouthed
bass.
Silence is only temporary condi-
ton with the old man, and the talk
alive guide On strange freak in good
mani begins to instil into him some
of his Ideas on the proper way to fish.
Well, here we are, and, trying the
rocky ledge, we are both OF us soon
fast to good. heavy fish. And the BAN
tering and wagering and the repartee
as the fight goes on!
How natural does II all come back
to me! / can not only see the good
old rod Of 20 summers use bend and
recover, like one side of Hogarth's line
of beauty. but hear the reell All! the
music of that reel, singing the same
old love song OF which no true fisher
man tires! Some go so far as to put
silver clicks into their reel to get more
music. a case simply of piling Pelion
on Ossa. The music of the reel! And
then the tug tug, tug at the wrist as
you give him the butt and keep him
away from that old sunken and partly
submerged tree top! And was not
gentle Izaak right when asked to de-
scribe, on his deathbed. the most pleas
ant sensation in his long life. he i'm
mediately answered, THE tug of a
20-pound salmon!" And ! guess the
Gentle Angler had 1t almost pat, eh?
Don't all speak at once.
And then the noon hour on the rocky
point, encased on one side with huge
boulders and on the other by a cres-
cent, sandy beach, wave kissed and
glistening In the sun.
The gathering of a few sticks of
wood and the putting over of the cof-
fee pot. The trying out of the bacon,
as the guide slips three or four fine
fellows from the string and deity
| skinning and dissecting them, lays
upon the tin platter great slabs of
pearly, pink fish steaks. boneless and
AS big as your outstretched hand And
you watch him dust each piece with
cornmeal golden flakes that In the pan
encrust the fish and turn to russell
brown. And you now and then get u
Whit of the maple smoke from the
burning twlgs and combined with 1t
the aroma OF the boiling coffee and the
! frying bass In the spluttcring bacon
fat. DO you follow me? All! And
you begin to gather together the tin
plates and the forks and knives, the
cups and the bread and butter and
cream and sugar, and set them upon
a nearby table rock put there by ma
| ture for your especial benefit.
And you jealousy watch the guide
tenderly impale, just as tenderly as
did Izaab impale his wrlge;lng worm
upon the hook, so much so that you
know and feel that the worm Walton
used (and was honest about admitting
II, remember that We "al on and only
| by the fly" trout fshermen) wrlggled
through excess of JOY and not of pain
each fillet of bass. breaking through
the tender crust and showing lust a
glimpse of the faky. white flesh un-
| dcrneath now cooked to turn. And
You are helped straight from the pan,
and also to bit of bacon, and with
your coffee cup filled and coated with
rich golden cream, aromatic of the
cowsllps and daisies of the pastures,
you eat and enjoy the breeze and listen
to the tapping of the water upon tho
sand, that plays an accompaniment to
the leafy aeolian harps whispering
sweet music overhead.
So why go fishing when you are in
a sick bed and can't goo