“I don’t think it will. We have been carrying out the system in France now on a lesser or greater scale for more than twenty years, and I can hear of no damage being done to the fish.”
[2] As I assisted personally at the exodus of 1861, I subjoin a brief report of what took place from the Perth Courier:—
“On Saturday last, Mr. Buist, accompanied by Mr. Bertram of Edinburgh and other gentlemen, visited the ponds of Stormontfield, for the purpose of ascertaining the state of the fish and giving instructions as to the liberation of the smolts. For eight days past the keeper had observed strong indications of a desire for freedom on the part of a considerable proportion of his finny wards, and numbers had gone into the runlet which leads to the reservoir by the side of the river where the fish were formerly caught and marked. When the party arrived they found a good many of the fish in the reservoir, being those which had sought egress during the night. The smolts were large and in fine condition; and one fish, which has been detained for three years for the purpose of discovering whether the species will grow in fresh water without being permitted to visit the sea, was found to be fully twice the size of the largest smolt. A number of parrs, too, of the same age as the smolts, and spawned of the same parents, were found about the size of minnows, and bearing the parr-mark distinctly defined. On seeing the state of matters, Mr. Buist gave instructions for removing the sluices, and allowing those bent on migration to have their liberty without being marked this season. A considerable number at once sought the river, and no impediment will now be placed in the way of a free migration. The ova of which the present fry is the produce were placed in the boxes at various times during the period from 15th November to 13th December 1859; and the departure of the smolts commenced on the 18th instant. The whole fry—amounting, it is estimated, to somewhat approaching 200,000 fish—is the produce of 19 male and 31 female salmon. The anomaly of one-half of the fry reaching the condition of smolts, and leaving the ponds when only a year old, and the other half remaining, has been hitherto supposed to be accounted for upon the supposition of the earlier fish being the produce of salmon, while the later were that of grilse. The experiment of this year sets that question at rest by negativing the supposition. Mr. Buist gave orders in November 1859 that none but salmon should be taken for the purposes of the ponds. The result is the same anomaly. Although all the fry this year in the ponds are the produce of salmon, as is usual only a moiety of them have yet attained to the condition of smolts, while the remainder have all the appearance of continuing parrs as before. This is perhaps the most important feature in the operations of the year. In the early part of the year 1860, from the unfavourable nature of the season for hatching, the whole brood seemed particularly stunted and ill-grown, and it was hardly expected that any of them would become smolts this year at all. About a month ago, however, early fears were dispelled; a goodly portion of the fry began to approach the smolt state, and since the beginning of May have been putting on their silvery livery, and now are fully as far advanced as those in the open river.”
[3] “In order that the public may understand what a vast number of fish 770,000 would be, I would mention that it has been calculated by ‘the chronicler,’ Mr. James Lowe, that the number of human beings assembled to welcome the arrival of the Princess of Wales was 700,000: imagine a salmon for each human being, and you will have an idea of the number of fish Mr. Ashworth has hatched out as a stock for his fisheries.”—Lecture by Mr. Buckland.
[4] Since the above was written intelligence has been received in England of the loss, by escape into the river (which would be no loss), or the death, or more truly “mysterious disappearance” of a large number of the fry—only five hundred being left in the pond. These have been allowed to make their escape into the river, and we may yet hope to hear of their safety and welfare. I hope those interested will lose no time, now that they know the way to success, in sending out another batch of eggs, so as to ensure the sending into the river of a few thousand young fish.
[5] In a very old number of the Scots Magazine I find the following:—“I was told by a gentleman who was present at a boat’s fishing on Spey near Gordon Castle in the month of April, that in hauling, the weight of the net brought out a great number of smolts which the fishers were not willing to part with; but that a gentleman, who knew the natural propensity of the salmon to return to their native river, persuaded them to slip them back again into the water, assuring them that in two months they would catch most of them full-grown grilses, which would be of much greater value. He at the same time laid a bet of five guineas with another gentleman present, who was somewhat dubious, that he should not fail in his prediction. The fishers agreed. He accordingly clipt off a part of the tail-fins from a number of them before he dropped them into the river; and within the time limited the fishers actually caught upwards of a hundred grilses thus marked, and soon after many more.”
[6] The Rhine is an excellent salmon stream and yields a large number of fish. The five fishing stations at Rotterdam are very productive, each of them yielding about 40,000 salmon per annum; and it would not be extravagant to estimate the produce of these fisheries as of the value of £25,000 per annum.
[7] The French government took off the import-duty on salmon in 1856, when foul salmon began to be exported to that country during the British close-times at the rate of £7000 per annum. A late writer in Fraser’s Magazine was informed by a leading fish-salesman, on the 16th November, that on that day ten tons of Tweed salmon, freshly caught, were in Billingsgate, two months after close-time, and despite of what was thought to be effective special legislation for that river!
[8] As an example of the numerous absurd statements that have been circulated about fish, the reader may study the following paragraph:—“Old fishermen about Dunbar say the way herring spawn is—first, the female herrings deposit their roe at some convenient part on sand or shingly bottom; second, the male fish then spread their milt all over the roe to protect it from enemies, and the influence of the tide and waves from moving it about. The fishermen also say that when the young herrings are hatched they can see and swim; the milt covering bursts open, and they are free to roam about. Some naturalists think the roes and milts of herring are all mixed together promiscuously, and left on the sands to bud and flourish. The fishermen’s idea seems to be the most likely of the two opinions.”
[9] “We understand that about 100 boats have been engaged to fish at Fraserburgh from Portsoy, Portknockie, Buckie, and Portgordon, and the other fishing villages. The exact terms of engagement we subjoin as follows, from an authoritative source. The terms are—15s. per cran, with £15 bounty, £2 for lodgings, £l as earnest-money, with cartage of nets, and net ground. The cartage of nets and net ground costs £3: 10s. to £4, so that the terms are equal to 15s. per cran, and £21: 10s. to £22 in full of bounty.”—Banff Journal.