The last half day of the season I was fishing at Milton Lake, and I caught eighteen fine bass, and two eels, the latter as large round as a policeman's club and as dirty and slimy as usual. Eels always remind me of a skinny circus contortionist. When I am unfortunate enough to hook one, I generally make a clean cut of two yards of silk line, hook and all, and tie him up to the fence, or bow stay of my canoe. I would willingly let all of them go again only from a lingering remnant of a boyish superstition that they would go and tell all the bass how horribly indigestible my bait was.
I remember catching a big snapping turtle, weighing about twelve pounds, in the lake one day. When I pulled it up, my companion grabbed it, and I really think I would have jumped overboard but for the fear that others might be around to make things more pleasant for me for jumping "from the frying pan into the fire." I suppose a salt-water fisherman would have yelled and danced for joy; I am not built that way. When I fish for bass, I want bass, and when I fish for turtles – No! I would not want them even then. The next one that takes my bait can have pole, line, hook and all.
The bass in the lake are innumerable, but they are more difficult to catch than those in the stream, a fact which pleases the true fisherman, who fishes to match his skill and science against the instinct and cunning of the fish, rather than with the one sole intention of making his bag larger than that of any preceding angler.
Remember the lake bass want sport more than food, and the bait must be handled in a lively manner to bring success. Some fifteen years ago this water was stocked by some wealthy Jersey men, and, from what I can learn, not half a dozen expert anglers have visited its waters in the past ten years, and there is no record of anybody ever having fished the stream I here describe.
Last season I only met three strangers at the lake, but they never seemed to catch anything beyond eels, turtles, sun-fish, and a few two inch bass, the name of which they did not even know, and I got into their bad graces by telling them they ought to return the bass into the lake. They thought I was a crank, in fact one of them told me so. These men were salt-water sports, and one man who came there from Newark, N. J., was actually baiting with shrimps for fresh-water bass and had no less than eight hooks upon his line, all baited with shrimps. This man also told me that there were no decent fish in the lake, and strange to say, this appears to be the general opinion of the few visitors.
I met one good fly fisherman a year ago, who had several fine beauties on the bank. He had taken his stand behind my tree before I arrived, and he was an artist. We became good friends and promised to meet again, but have not done so as yet. He agreed with me that the lake was full of beautiful fish, and that they were a trifle hard to catch, which fact we both agreed was very good for the interests of the true lovers of the art of angling.
Another fine place for bass within an easy distance of New York is Greenwood Lake, which lies half in New York and half in New Jersey. It is on the Erie railroad and has several good hotels and a club house open during the summer. Guides are to be had at a moderate figure, and the fishing during the last three seasons has been good.
Lake Ronkonkoma, Long Island, is another good fishing ground. Take the Long Island railroad to the depot at Ronkonkoma; from there stages run to the lake during the season. Distance, about two miles.
Tuxedo Park is confined to members of the Tuxedo Park Club, and has a fine supply of large and lively bass, which take a fly remarkably well.
At Lake Hopatcong, N. Y., bass are plentiful, but without a guide little good is to be done. It lies on the Morris and Essex railroad, two hours ride from Hoboken. During the summer a very good house, the Hotel Breslin, is open. This hotel was first opened last year, is exceedingly moderate in its charges, is well fitted throughout, and is by far the best house of them all. There are several guides at the Lake, the best average of them being Morris Decker, who has an island in the lake on which he lets out tents to camping parties, supplying them with all necessaries at reasonable terms. He is well posted in the various feeding grounds, and with him good sport is a certainty, if the weather is right. There are some very large bass here. Mr. Eugene C. Blackford has caught several at four and a half pounds, and five and a quarter pounds. One was caught three years ago weighing eight pounds two ounces. There are plenty of good pickerel, and anglers are but little annoyed by sun-fish or eels. There is a fine fishing club-house on Bertrand Island, which is very exclusive. The best bait here has proved to be live bait, minnows, or frogs. Now as regards bait for still-fishing, I have tried almost everything at odd times.
Bass are very peculiar fish as regards feeding. Sometimes they take one bait right along all day, and at other times will change morning, noon, and night, also from sunshine to cloud. I generally start in the early morning with grasshoppers, and if that does not suit them, I vary it to the helgramite – known to naturalists as the larvæ of the horned corydalis, locally called "dobsons," "dobsell," "hellion," "crawler," "kill-devil," etc. – a live minnow, small green frog, small bull-head, or a "lamper" – local name for small lamprey eel.
The dobson is the most stable bait for still fishing, and a good plan is to pass a piece of silk under the shield in the back and then pass the hook through that; the same scheme is equally good with grasshoppers. Towards evening, I found worms a very good bait, except when rain threatened.
In using a minnow, I pass the hook up through the lower lip and out the nostril; it then lives a long time. Some anglers hook through both lips, the lower one first. Hooked either way, a dead minnow moves like a live one. I always treat a minnow as Izaak Walton spoke of a frog, "as if I loved him."