D. 21; P. 14; V. 11; A. 17; C. 26.—Dr. Mitchill.
D. 22; P. 18; V. 13; A. 20; C. 26.—Prof. Agassiz.
The lateral line is not continuous, the under jaw is more elongated than that of the northern pickerel and some fish have on their sides dark spots on a light greyish ground.
The name of this fish is derived from Masque allongé, long snout, which is a translation from the Canadian Indian dialect, of Masca-nonga, words which have the same signification; and from corruptions of these two designations arise our numerous names. I took great pains to ascertain precisely how the Canadian boatmen, who are a cross of the Indian and Frenchman, pronounced this name, although, in their French patois, he is ordinarily called Brochat, and the best my ears could make of it was Mas- or Muscallung, the latter syllable being guttural. But as the most sonorous, expressive and appropriate name is Mascallonge, it is desirable that all sportsmen should employ it.
There is a dispute as to the size and weight that these fish attain, and while some writers claim for them a fabulous size, others entirely underrate them. Mr. S. D. Johnston, the proprietor of the Walton House, at Clayton, a son of Mr. Johnston, who was a prominent man in the Canadian rebellion, and for many years forced to hide among the Thousand Isles and live by his hook and spear, said that the largest fish he ever saw was taken by his father, who, in one night, speared two Mascallonge weighing respectively sixty-three and forty-two pounds. There is plenty of authority to prove that there was taken near Clayton, in the year 1859, a mascallonge that measured five feet seven inches in length, and weighed fifty-one and three-quarter pounds, that it was poor and thin, and in good condition would probably have weighed over sixty pounds. One fisherman caught in a single year twelve mascallonge, ranging from twenty-one to forty-four pounds. Larger fish and far greater numbers may perhaps be taken in wilder waters, and, indeed, in some of the lakes in the remote parts of Canada these fish are innumerable.
Their length, proportionally to their weight, is, in consequence of their peculiar shape, excessive; a fish of twenty-five pounds’ weight will measure forty-six inches in length by six in depth, and a fish of seventy pounds it is presumed would be over six feet in length. Although this is not quite equal to the great pike of Pliny, that weighed a thousand pounds, and was drawn out by a pair of oxen, and caught on a hook attached to an ox chain, it must be regarded by the most fastidious as respectable for the present degenerate days. If the accounts we receive are reliable, the pike of Europe, of which the old song erroneously says:
“Turkeys, carps, hoppes, piccarel and beer
Came into England all in one year,”
vastly surpass ours in size, a fish being taken in a pond near Stockholm with a brass ring round his neck, having an inscription to the effect that he had been put into the pond by the hands of Frederick the Second in 1230, or 267 years before. He weighed 350 pounds, and measured fifteen feet, and his skeleton was a long time preserved at Manheim. The ring was arranged with springs so as to enlarge as he grew. The Shannon is said to have produced a pike of ninety-two pounds, and Lock Spey one of one hundred and forty-six; but, when reading of these accounts, I feel like the Yankee, who, when boasting of his great country, and especially its great cataract, was somewhat taken aback by being told his land produced no volcanoes, nothing to equal Vesuvius or Etna, but who, after thinking a moment, replied: “That was true those were big fires, but he guessed Niagara had water enough to put them all out.” So I think our mascallonge could eat up the biggest pike Europe can produce; and it will be a pity if, when our country is as old as Europe, we cannot tell as extensive stories.[15]