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Untitled - RB-Flys

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6 PIKE AND OTHER COARSE FISH.<br />

Nothing that swims, or walks, or flies does he spare when his<br />

appetite is whetted by the sharp wind sweeping<br />

The half-frozen dyke,<br />

That hungers into madness every plunging pike.<br />

Woe be to his children, or his brother, mother, or cousin,<br />

grandchildren or great-grandchildren, should they<br />

cross his<br />

path ; and I have not the slightest doubt, speaking ichthyo-<br />

phageously, if not ichthyologically, that under sufficient provocation<br />

he would tackle one of his own ancestors, even to the<br />

third and fourth generation. This is all '<br />

and is in<br />

thorough,'<br />

keeping with the grim muzzle and steely grey eyes which fix<br />

upon the observer with unwinking and ferocious glare. The<br />

very rush and flash with which he takes his prey<br />

has in it a<br />

fascination, and I have more than once seen a man drop his<br />

rod from sheer fright when a pike, that has been stealthily<br />

following his bait, suddenly dashes at it by the side of the boat<br />

or at the moment it is being lifted out of water.<br />

The pike, I am happy to is<br />

say, daily rising in the estimation<br />

of anglers as a game and, in the largest sense of the word,<br />

sporting fish. This is partly owing, no doubt, to the difficulty,<br />

with an ever-increasing army of anglers, of obtaining decent<br />

trout or, still more, salmon fishing (in fact, a good salmon river<br />

has now r become almost as expensive a luxury as a grouse moor<br />

or a deer forest), and partly also because the art is now pursued<br />

with greatly improved appliances.<br />

We live in times in which, as I observed in the first page of<br />

the first pamphlet I ever wrote on jack-fishing, no 'well in-<br />

formed pike is to be ensnared by such simple devices as those<br />

which proved fatal to his progenitors in the good old days of<br />

innocence and Izaak Walton, and were we now to sally forth<br />

with the trolling gear bequeathed to us by our great grand-<br />

fathers of lamented memory, we should expect to see every<br />

pike from John o' Groat's to Land's End rise up to repel with<br />

scorn the insult offered them. No !<br />

depend<br />

upon<br />

dwellers in what Tom Hood called the '<br />

Eely places '<br />

it the<br />

have

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