The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1933-09-01

No, brother anglers, there is no rhyme
nor reason to the Judgment our fellow
men set upon us. 1t is useless for any
fisherman even to try to tell the truth.
Wives, non-angling relatives and the
boys at the Office take it for granted
that every fellow, no matter what his
reputation for truth and veracity other
wise, suffers contamination once he
touches fishpole.
This is true the world over And in
Minnesota where the enormity of the
fish tales may be multiplied by the ten
thousand lakes, well, there seems to be
no limit to the size Of the one that got
away.
1 am setting down these few lines in
defense of every angler who has suf-
fered the role of buffoon at the hands
of well meaning friends and has had
his fish stories greeted only with gales
of hearty laughter. mean to present
testimony in this court of public opinion
that may serve to still these waves of
raucous derision by I'd introducing
proof that there are millions of fish
in the ten thousand lakes, and Cd that
| it is possible to catch them.
This all started because George
Myrum. who inhabits the -Winton
country, got a particularly severe case
of running off at the mouth about all
the fish ("Yeah, and there big ones
too") which swim the hundreds of
lakes in the wilderness that is Minneso-
| tas northeast corner. He made this
boast in the presence of four of us who
call ourselves fishermen and, because
we had never fished the waters he spoke
of, none dared laugh.
An unkind newSpaperman hearing OF
the proposed jaunt, headlined that
-four politicians were going fishing
| The truth of the matter is that we did
have two politicians in the party,
Freds Lowell and Wilson, who help the
st. Paul taxpayers spend their money.
But Harry Berman doesn't enjoy that
stigma he's salesman, and for myself,
I'm Just press agent
/ True, there was some slight disagree
ment started over the number OF deer
that were seen the night the party
went into the woods out of Winton
We did see three and it was beauti-
full sight as the graceful animals posed
briefly, blinking into the headlights
before, flags aloft, they raced from the
road.
Arrived at the camp, nobody thought
of sleep after Dewey Lutrl1 and Vic
Lindbergh, the young men who were
to do guiding duty, had finished Mr..
Myrum's work of building up the fish
ing potentialities to unheard of heights
It was my personal impression as ]
listened, that one used three and four
pound wall-eyes for bait and caught
nothing under twenty-five pounds.
That was the picture we had before
our eyes as the cupboard chugged earn
estly over the waters of Moose lake at
dawning. Into Newfound through a
rock-Ened and tree-rimmed channel
and Dewey halted to allow us to wet
our lines for the first time in 1888
Hardly had HarTys plug riffled the
surface until BANG! With the speed
of bullet it was whisked away in the
mouth of what was proved to be a
Iten-pound northern.
And the fun was on. Northern pike
galore. Harry was living up to his
finest traditions; he always signs letters
with a p. S. after his name. And that
p. S. means only one thing-"pickerel
snatcher." And Harry is the boy who
can prove it, as the rest of us can
testify after years of bitter fishing ex-
perience with him. Whatever he's
fishing for, bass, trout or wall-eyes, his
speciality is that one aforementioned
species.
Newfound lake was his natural ele-
ment, for they were bigger than those
he had been used to catching. In the
Crow Wing and Chisago lakes we'd see
Harry with a sort of SheepiSh look on
his face, nonchalantly holding his rod.
Investigate, and sure enough, he'd have
q little pickerel he was hoping would
get of before anyone noticed. But at
Newfound lake he could bring in his
favorites and brag about 'em because
of their size.
firing of this sport, Dewey suggested
we portage around the dam into Ensign
lake and get some wall-eyes. The two