There is no limit to the list of salmon flies that might be given; artistic beauty is a great point to be gained, but further than that nothing is positively ascertained on the subject. I was once visiting a well known salmon river with fifty dozen flies loaned to me by an excellent angler who was one of the oldest habitués of the stream. Another excellent fisherman looked over my hooks with an unapproving air, and after my return told me that he was surprised I had taken any fish at all, for my flies were totally unsuited to the river. It is, however, generally conceded that different waters require different flies, and those in vogue in Canada are much gayer than those of New Brunswick. In Great Britain it was once the custom, as it still is in Wales, to use sombre colors; in England and Ireland the gayest are now the rage; perhaps it will be the same here, and in the end we may find that handsome, gaudy feathers answer best.
The turkey wing is of various colors, but where no other specific direction is given, the common mixture of black and brown is intended. Some sportsmen pretend to assimilate their flies to the sand-lance, others to the shrimp; as the salmon obtain neither in fresh water, there is little to choose between the plans.
As will be seen, therefore, from the foregoing, salmon flies are much more complicated than trout flies, and require more skill in their manufacture. The wings are ordinarily made of numerous fibres, frequently of distinct feathers, which are fastened separately upon one another, and usually called toppings. The hook is often first tied securely with thick silk and then varnished, while a small loop instead of a length of gut is used. This is allowed to dry, and finer silk, usually the color of the intended fly, is employed to tie the feathers. Occasional fastenings may be made by taking a hitch over the whole, and varnish is applied, especially at the head and tail. After the hook is tied on, the silk is made fast at the bend, where the tinsel, the whisks, the body and the hackle are inserted; the latter may, however, be introduced after several turns have been taken with the body, and the body may be divided into sections of various colors, in a manner that the least practice will render easy.
It is no small matter to give a list of the requisite fly-making materials, but the following are a few of the most important:
Silk of various colors, wax, nippers, scissors, a bench vice, picker, spring pliers, varnish, hooks and gut, tinsel of gold and silver, twisted and plain; hackles of all colors, feathers of the mallard, teal, woodcock, golden, silver and argus pheasants, turkey, macaws, curlew, ruffed grouse, ibis, blue-jay, black-bird, fresh water rail, guinea fowl, common chicken, and any and all other birds that may come in the angler’s way; dubbings of mohair, pig’s hair, wool, seal’s fur, rat’s, mole’s and squirrel’s fur; floss silk of all colors, and peacock’s and ostrich herl. Dyed feathers had better be purchased of the tackle makers, and should include blue, purple, orange, yellow, brown, green, crimson and scarlet hackles, and yellow wing feathers.
There is a Limerick hook now made with the shank turned over so as to form a loop into which the gut is inserted and the trouble of tying the gut is avoided. They have come into general use among the Irish and Scotch fishermen, and are a great aid to the man that ties his own flies. The gut in ordinary fly fishing wears out just above the hook, a difficulty that is entirely removed by this improvement, and it is by no means so ugly or ungainly as might be supposed. This is no new discovery, but has been practised with common American hooks for a considerable period, and might be advantageously used in many kinds of fishing, and applied to all hooks.
Hooks are numbered in the most singular manner, no two makers agreeing, and some indulging in remarkable eccentricities. But as Limerick hooks are generally used for fly-making, the numbers 2, 1, 1-1/2, 0 and 2/0 will include all that is requisite. No. 1-1/2 is my favorite for ordinary purposes, but a few 3/0 may be desirable in heavy water, with an occasional monster for foaming rapids.
The charges for dressing trout flies in this country are exorbitant, whereas in England they can be purchased of the best makers at from seventy-five cents to a dollar and a half per dozen; we are charged from a dollar and a half to three dollars, and generally furnished an inferior article. There is an abominable article of wholesale traffic sold for fifty cents a dozen, that is beneath any sportsman’s notice. I have imported a great many, but it is a troublesome operation, and the best way is to bear the imposition meekly.
The English and Irish salmon flies are, on the contrary, expensive; a great deal of the neck and top-knot of the golden pheasant and of the wings of the blue-jay is employed, birds which cost from ten to twenty-five dollars a piece, and which only furnish twenty to thirty pairs of each kind of feathers. The use, therefore, of several long crest and neck feathers at fifty cents a pair in the wing, and five or six from the top-knot for the tail, besides other expensive materials and the employment of the best workmanship, will make a fly dear at the original cost. Blacker, the great English rod and fly maker, has been paid two guineas apiece for his finest. The reader may console himself by remembering that salmon were taken with the fly before the golden pheasant was heard of as one of the indispensable ingredients. A little practice will enable the angler to make flies himself, and add to his sport the consciousness of invention.
Except in that way, and except for salmon fishing, the sportsmen of our country have no time to waste tying flies. The regular shops charge a heavy profit over the amount paid the workman, and if the purchaser is capable of telling a good fly, the best plan is to go direct to the latter, explain what is wanted, and show an interest in the proceeding. A half dozen of each of the foregoing specimens, firmly fastened on strong, round, even gut, will last two months’ daily salmon fishing in well-stocked streams. An average loss of four or five a day would be by no means surprising, although a single one might kill a great many fine fish. Hooks are apt to be broken at the bend by striking against a rock, from carelessness, or the awkward handling of too long a line. If you find a hook broken in that way, lay it primarily to this cause, and watch the sweep of your cast.