PADDY AND THE FISH.
PADDY RYAN'S BIG FISH.
BY W. M. LAFFAN.
A few weeks ago I tried to give some good advice to young anglers in regard to trout fishing with hook and line. Now I am going to tell them of one or two curious methods of capturing trout that are practiced by fishermen on the other side of the Atlantic.
The trout in the rivers of Great Britain, as a general thing, attain a larger size than ours do. Occasionally, however, exceptions may be made to this rule, as, for instance, in the Rangeley Lakes, in the State of Maine, where trout are taken that are as large as any in the finest streams of England or Ireland.
The brook trout of the latter countries is usually from ten to fourteen inches in length, but in certain streams it is occasionally found of a much larger size, weighing in some instances seven or eight pounds. In color it is yellowish-brown above, shading off to yellow on the sides, the spots on the back being reddish-brown, while those on the sides are bright red.
In certain wild parts of Ireland there is fine trout fishing, four and five pound fish being frequently caught. There are two methods of catching them practiced by the inhabitants—tickling and snaring. The snare is a simple noose made of gray horse-hair, plaited, and of the strength of perhaps a dozen hairs. This snare is fastened to the end of a ten-foot pole, slender and springy, and the device is complete. Its use requires great training of the hand, and even more of the eye. When I was a boy I was in the County Tipperary, where so many tall Irishmen come from, where some of the people still speak Gaelic, and where the trout in the streams are free and frisky. The rivers of Tipperary flow into the Shannon and the Suir, and the Shannon is a noble river, and an immense one when you consider how small the accommodations of the country are.
To snare a trout, you pick out the clear shallows where the water flows softly over the yellow gravel. You approach the spot with great caution, and with such slow and easy movement that the fish is not alarmed, or if he does dart off to deeper water or some dark lurking-place, presently returns, revealing himself by his flickering shadow, that seems even more real than himself. Then, slow as the minute-hand of a clock, descends the rod, and the horse-hair noose sinks under the surface. The trout's nose points against the current, and down toward him drifts the unseen loop of horse-hair. Unfailing must be the judgment of the distance, and certain the estimate of the depth, and as it glides over his shoulders a swift stroke sends him flying over your head into the grass behind you. It is incredible how difficult this method of fishing is, what great craft it needs, what subtlety of approach, and what fine discernment in the execution. I have seen a Tipperary woman so skillful that she could beat all comers in the number of trout she would take in a day's fishing. It was a fine sight to see her on the bank, rigid as a statue, with uncovered head crowned with jet-black hair, her bare feet planted in the sod, and not a trace of movement to be seen until up went her rod, and a fine flashing trout, as heavy perhaps as her plaited noose would bear, went kicking through the air.