With a view of showing the capabilities of our river in the production of fish, I have aggregated the scores from 1872 to 1882 inclusive. In one of these years three rods were in use, in three others two, and in the other years but one. The average time of fishing in each year was about three weeks.
Number of trout taken, 5,525; aggregate weight, 6,625 pounds; average about one pound three ounces. In the year 1881 the average size of two hundred and thirteen trout taken with a single rod in eight days’ fishing was one pound fourteen ounces. Not one of these fish was wasted. A few were eaten upon the stream, but most of them were given to the guides, who salted and packed them in barrels for future use. A sack of coarse salt and empty fish barrels were always included in the anglers’ stores.
Three days after the last date mentioned we were again on board our chaloupe “homeward bound.” The loss in weight in our stores was made good by the barrel of salted anadromous salvelinus-fontinalis which were to supplement and eke out the pork barrel of our honest and worthy guides during the long ice-bound winter before them.
Tadousac was reached about sunrise on a bright morning. At nine o’clock we were in citizen’s dress and seated at the hotel breakfast table. A glance around the room showed that summer birds and Cook’s tourists had mainly migrated to more southern latitudes. Our trunks were re-packed, our guides paid $1.50 each per day, and the captain $2.00, gold, and bade adieu. We took the Saguenay steamboat for Quebec, the Grand Trunk Railroad from Point Levi to Montreal, where we passed the night. The next morning we travelled by rail to Rouse’s Point and by boat down that charming Lake, Champlain. At the various landings many persons, including several friends, came on board.
Nearly all carried snugly-cased fishing rods, whose summer work was ended. The Chateaugay, the Saranacs, Paul Smith’s, Baker’s, Martin’s, and various other familiar names met our ears. We envied none of them. Our cup of joy, happiness and contentment was full to the brim. There was no room for “envy, hatred and malice,” but a feeling of gratitude and thankfulness to the Author of every “good and perfect gift,” welled up from our hearts.
“Every angler has his own peculiar notion in regard to the best fly; and the difficulty of presenting a perfect catalogue will be very apparent, when it is considered that the name of the fly of one writer bears a different name and description from that of another, and it is more than probable that the name and description of some of the flies in my list may not be in accordance with the views and opinions of many old and experienced anglers.”—“Frank Forester.”
“After staying in a village parlor till the family had all retired, I have returned to the woods, and partly with a view to the next day’s dinner, spent the hours of midnight fishing from a boat by moonlight, serenaded by owls and foxes, and hearing, from time to time, the croaking note of some unknown bird close at hand.”—Henry D. Thoreau.
“He sat down on a lump of granite, and took out his fly-book. It is a sport, he added, as he was selecting the flies, that there is less to be said against than shooting, I imagine. I don’t like the idea of shooting birds, especially after I have missed one or two. Birds are such harmless creatures. But the fish is different—the fish is making a murderous snap at an innocent fly, when a little bit of steel catches him in the very act. It serves him right, from the moral point of view.”—William Black.
“There is much diversity of opinion about the manner of fishing, whether up or down the stream; the great majority of anglers, both In Europe and this country, favor the latter method, and very few the former.”—John J. Brown.
“‘Beautiful!’ Well you may say so, for what is more beautiful than a well-developed pound trout?”—Charles W. Stevens.