In fly-fishing, a rod, and a good rod, is one of the prime requisites, upon the excellence of which depends, in a great measure, the successful exercise of the angler’s skill. An excellent rod may be made of different materials and in different manners, a choice among which will depend upon fancied, more than real superiority; but each writer has his favorites, and, if able, is entitled to give the reasons for his preference.

Fly-fishing is mainly confined to salmon and trout-fishing; for these, essentially different implements are required; for the long casts and heavy play of the former, amid the rapids and cascades of the foaming river, a stout, stiff, two-handed rod is requisite; while for the feebler efforts and shorter casts of the latter, amid the ripples of the murmuring brook, or upon the placid surface of the quiet pond, a light, single-handed rod is preferable.

The salmon-rod should be as long and strong as the muscles of the angler will enable him to wield trenchantly all day through, and should have that quick, powerful pliancy that will send the fly with or across the wind a prodigious distance. It is ordinarily made of ash or hickory for the joints, and bamboo, on account of its lightness, for the tip. Greenheart has lately become the favorite wood, being now almost universally employed in England, and offers, certainly, some desirable advantages; but I have not had sufficient experience with it to speak decisively of its merits. A salmon-rod should be twenty feet long; after giving the matter due deliberation, and trying to reduce every ounce of weight, I have resolved that I cannot take off an inch from twenty feet. To meet the objection that a weak, small man must, under these circumstances, either give up the fishing or the rod, I would suggest that he inure himself to the labor by practising, for his first few days upon the river, with a sixteen-foot rod till his muscles are strengthened, and then substituting one of full length and weight.

A sixteen-foot rod may be handled beautifully, will cast the fly lightly, will kill a fish delicately, but it will not enable the possessor to force his line against or across a gust of wind eddying down the bank of the stream, nor to command all the casts of a broad river with facility, neither can he strike with certainty, nor kill his fish with rapidity. Salmon rivers are usually wide, sometimes wild, broken, and impassable even for that wonderful compound of life and lightness, the birch canoe, and cannot be reached in every part except with a long line under perfect control; frequently, the very spot where the fish habit, the swirl of the current or the pitch of the cascade is beyond the limits of him of the fifteen-foot rod; and if by the utmost effort the line is cast far enough, the first eddy will slack it up and deprive the weak, pliant rod of all control over it.

Again, where the favorite pool lies close by the overhanging rock, upon some accommodating ledge of which the angler crawls prone to the earth, hiding from the sharp eye of the watchful fish, he can with a long rod jerk out the line, and twitching it over the surface, beguile the prey; while with a shorter one he might be deprived of concealment, and stand confessed a laughing-stock to the fish, dangling a useless line close to the rocky bank. If the water, the wind, or the fish are strong, the rod should be the same; although advocating gentle treatment, there are times when, I assure the reader, that vigor must be exerted, and then twenty feet are better than fifteen.

No practical working rod can be made by the removal of one or more joints and the substitution of others, to increase or diminish in length. There must be a uniform taper consonant with the length, which, in case of alteration, will be destroyed, and the rod rendered harsh or feeble. The strain will not come equally upon all its parts; it will bend irregularly, and under a sudden strain is almost sure to give way. I had a rod in which a single joint could be substituted for the butt and next joint, which broke on an average of once a day so long as it was used in that way, and until the two joints were restored.

The elasticity of a good salmon-rod is like that of steel, and by the aid of such an implement alone can the fly be propelled to a proper distance. The force must be transmitted to the tip end of the leader, and the angler must feel in casting that his rod is up to its share of the work. It must neither drag, for in that case the line follows the impulse feebly; nor be too stiff, for then no life can be imparted to the line. If the rod is weak, it cannot cast with power; if it is harsh, it cannot cast at all. It must bend, but must leap back to its place, driving the fly far ahead of it by the strong and steady impulse.

A deficiency in vigor is felt at once by the angler, as a want of proper resistance to his exertion, and will be particularly noticeable of a bad day, or in an unfavorable locality, when the rod will seem to double back and fail utterly in a weak disgusting way; while too great stiffness will go to convince the angler that he is using a bean-pole.

The single-handed trout-rod is a very different affair, much more difficult both to make and handle; coarser tools and tackle will answer for the coarser fish, but nothing less than the best material and workmanship will enable the trout-fisher to perform creditably and successfully. It must be light for fine fishing, not over ten ounces in weight; it must be the perfection of elasticity; it must have a certain strength; it must balance perfectly in the hand; in other words, it must be perfection, to attain which, requires the utmost care and the greatest skill. It is a strange fact that decidedly better fly-rods, and perhaps better salmon-rods, can be obtained in America than in England, in spite of the greater foreign experience; a result that is due mainly to our persistent effort after delicacy, and perhaps partly to the habits and size of our fish; but an English fly-rod is now regarded as a clumsy monstrosity.

Trout-rods are usually made of ash with a bamboo or Calcutta cane-tip; the latter is infinitely preferable to lance-wood, on account of its greater strength and lightness. The bamboo is split into narrow pieces the length of one joint of the cane, and being glued together, is trimmed to the proper shape. Three pieces should be used, each planed, by an instrument made for the purpose, into an obtuse angle, and fitting neatly together; if two pieces only are united, the tip will bend to different degrees in different directions.

Bamboo may also be used for the second joint, and makes a light and vigorous rod, with ash for the butt; horn-beam or iron-wood, and greenheart, have also been introduced for trout-rods, but have not come into general acceptance; lance-wood is strong but too heavy, while my decided favorite is red cedar. Rods, after they have been exposed to wet, and have endured the strain of a strong fish, or even the effort of repeated casting, will warp; they will, if they are extremely light, prove deficient in power; they are apt to be either heavy or feeble; they will, when the current or wind is strong, give to it and lose their quickness in striking; in fact, they have many defects common to one or the other of the above woods, unless they are made of cedar; in this case they have but one fault, they are brittle. A cedar rod never warps; it springs to the hand as quick as thought to the brain; it is never slow or heavy; it cannot be kept down by the wind or the current; it is never aught but quick, lively, and vigorous; it will cast three feet farther than any other rod of the same weight, and strike a fish with twice the certainty. The wood is extremely light, but the grain is short; it never loses its life, but will snap under a sudden strain.

I once struck a salmon with an eight-ounce cedar trout-rod; it was at the basin below the Falls of the Nipisiquit, where the current of the river, rushing against the calm water of the deep pool, creates a gentle ripple. The hour was near mid-day, and I was catching sea-trout in that profusion with which they abound in the northern waters, when out of the ripple, a few yards beyond my reach, rose a mighty monarch of the flood, and turning over as he sank, caused a heavy surge in the tide.

My Canadian guide, an enthusiastic Frenchman, was with me, and our nerves tingled and our cheeks flushed at the sight; approaching the canoe, a long cast brought him out again, but only to miss the tiny trout-fly. Convinced that he would rise, I hastily substituted a small salmon-fly for the stretcher, leaving on the leader the two small droppers I had been using, and again carefully cast over him. Out he came, the water breaking round him and rolling away in miniature circling waves, and the foam flying from the powerful blow of his tail as he turned down. I struck, but it was as though I had struck a rock; he darted to the bottom, making the rod fly in splinters; at every surge fresh splinters broke off and fell about in showers; a piece of the lower joint only was left, when feeling for the first time really roused, he made one fierce rush and mad leap, and the line not unreeling fast enough to suit him, he disappeared with three flies, all my leader, and most of my line. I do not advise any one to fish for salmon with an eight-ounce cedar trout-rod.

In ordinary trout-fishing, however, salmon do not abound nor come unceremoniously devouring our baits intended for their smaller brethren; nor are even trout so extremely numerous but that, for a long summer day’s work, a light able rod will be infinitely preferable to a heavy one. A rod that weighs fourteen ounces is heavy, and I have seen persons with their hands or wrists dreadfully swollen after a single day’s fishing, and have had such persons assure me that their rods were as light as they could be possibly made. Delicacy to me is the first essential in trout-fishing, whether delicacy of rod and tackle, or delicacy of handling and casting. Catching a trout with a stick and a string is not half the fun of catching a flounder, the latter being much more difficult to lug out of water; and delicacy in trout-fishing will bring the best reward.

With a cedar rod you need use the wrist alone, and that without much exertion; you can cover great distances and still control the line, and you can switch the fly under bushes and in difficult places, better than with any other rod I ever used. It is quick, reliable, vigorous, and light, the slightest motion gives the tip the requisite spring, and it answers every effort of the hand instantly. It kills a fish powerfully and rapidly, and exposure to wet neither deadens nor weakens it. The ordinary hickory and ash-joint are much stronger, but are logy in their action and far heavier; joints of split cane or malacca are light, beautiful, and expensive, but are almost unattainable, and are, occasionally at least, deficient in power; and whalebone, for any part of the rod, is dull, heavy, inappropriate, and when water-soaked, utterly worthless. For these reasons and many others—these are enough, however—I prefer a cedar rod.

Many persons give the preference to a limber rod, one that bends in the middle, and they can, after infinite practice, cast well with it; in pleasant weather they can throw a light line, but when the storm lowers and the wind blows, or the current rages, or the cast is very long, or the bushes overhang, then good-bye to the gentleman with that most wretched of implements, a weak-backed limber rod. Give me no such inefficient deception to break my wrist, my heart, and my patience; as well tell me that whalebone has the vigor of a steel spring.

The joints of a rod are united in various ways; with the salmon-rod it is almost essential, and with all rods desirable, to use splices, but the custom is to indulge the laziness of ferrules. American ferrules fit accurately, and of course after the wood is swollen by exposure to rain, they will not come apart even if the joint-ends are all brass, a difficulty that can be obviated by rubbing them with mutton tallow, and loosening them every night, and we advise the same precaution in wet weather with the reel bands. In this connection it may be well to tell the reader how he can, with a little trouble, separate the ferrules, no matter how solid they may seem to be; in the first place heat them moderately, and pour a little oil round the joint; then take two stout pieces of string, or better, braid, about a foot long, and tying the ends of each together, wrap one close above and the other below the joint in the contrary directions; then insert a stick in each loop, and turn one one way, and the other the opposite. If the bands slip, rub them with wax.

The English ferrules, not fitting so closely, are not liable to this objection; but, on the other hand, would come apart in use, to the intense disgust of the angler, were they not held together by a piece of silk, that, when they are set up, has to be wound round a loop of brass fastened upon each for the purpose. This silk must be cut every time the rod is taken apart, and occasions much trouble. The Irish use a screw-joint, which is firm and not liable to bind; but it is difficult to fit, easy to break, and, in the woods, impossible to replace. Among these plans the simple socket has obtained the preference, and probably is entitled to the distinction.

It is doubtless useless for me at this day to tell any intelligent sportsman that the butt of a fly-rod must never be hollow; its solidity is necessary to a proper balance; but where the fishing is merely to be done along the streams, a spear-head that can be screwed into the end will add little to the weight, and prove useful driven into the ground to hold the rod, while the fisherman changes his flies or frees them from a weed or bush. On a trout-rod there should be no reel-bands, but a gutta-percha ring, or a leather strap and buckle, will retain the reel firmly, and enable the angler to change its position at his pleasure, and by altering the balance, rest his wrist. These seem trivial matters, but mole-hills are mountains if they rest upon a sore spot. On a salmon-rod the reel-bands should be strong, and about a foot from the end.

There should be rings or guides enough on a fly-rod to bring the strain evenly throughout, and if one is destroyed, it should be replaced at once, or a liability to break will result. If rings are used, they and the brass top should be large and fastened on with a whipping of silk, that adds much strength to the wood. Where a spliced rod is used, it is well to have a small ring of brass, somewhat similar to the reel-band on each joint, under which the end of the splice can be slipped before fastening it.

For salmon and trout-fishing, the reel had better be a simple, large barrelled click-reel, as the music of the line, unwinding to the rush of these splendid fish, while it indicates the rate of its diminution, is to the angler what the clarion is to the warrior, or the hound’s bay to the deer hunter; but a multiplier, made as they are only made in this country, working with the beauty and accuracy of clock-work, is by no means inadmissible. A drag must be used with the multiplier, but a stop never; the latter is utterly useless, and by slipping unexpectedly, may destroy your tackle. The reel must be manufactured with the greatest care and of the best workmanship; no implement is so worthless if poor, and none will better repay the sportsman if perfect. In salmon-fishing, it is only in desperate straits that any effort is made to check the fish; he is ordinarily too violent to submit to such treatment; otherwise, as the single-barrelled reel revolves toward you, it could not be used, as it cannot in bass-fishing.

A multiplier should have steel pins, which require care and frequent oiling; the same reel may be used for bass, and, if armed with a drag as above stated, in case of necessity in salmon-fishing. For both salmon and bass it should be of the largest size, and may be painted black to preserve it from rust, and to avoid alarming the fish. The line will occasionally catch round the handle, to prevent which, the latter is sometimes constructed of a button fitting in a plate.

All reels must be oiled occasionally. On one occasion I proved this to my satisfaction in a very unsatisfactory way.

The weather had been hot and dry; the water had fallen and become transparent as crystal; the fish were shy and cautious. After exhausting my ingenuity in selecting new flies to suit their capricious tastes, I had settled upon one of bright yellow, which, if the gentlemen did not wish to eat, they did seem to enjoy inspecting; they rose to it freely, and after I had tried in vain to strike them, curiosity induced me to keep count of their number.

Fourteen times had they risen and disappeared uninjured; fourteen times had my nerves tingled, and my blood started; fourteen times had sudden hope turned to bitter disappointment, till anticipation settled down into dull despair. Only those who have themselves had such painful experiences can appreciate my feelings; the continual tantalizing approximation to success, to be followed by agonizing failure; the renewed hope that the next rise would result in the capture of a fish ever to remain unfulfilled; the desperate effort to strike quicker or to cast more attractively; all these and many other feelings swarmed through my heart, as fish after fish approached his fate, and invariably escaped.

They seemed to be feeding, as it is called, and when the fly passed they rose, and turning over like a porpoise chasing mossbunkers, seemed to take it in their mouths. They did not spring out of water in the gaiety of reckless play, but acted as they would have done if swallowing the natural insect. Not that it is certain that salmon feed on flies; but while they can rarely be taken while playing, they often can be when acting in a manner resembling feeding.

My patience not exhausted, for it never is while fish will rise, I directed the canoe to be dropped towards the lower end of the fishing-ground, and stepped from it to a rock in the stream, and then casting the farthest and lightest possible, was rewarded. A magnificent fish rose; was secured by a quick turn of the butt, and stung by the unexpected pain, fled down the current. Away he went, on without a pause, the reel hissing, the line unwinding, and darting into the water, till having exhausted seventy-five yards of line, and being partially turned by its weight and the resistance of the click, he stopped with a heavy surge, and heading back, approached as fast as he had fled. Instantly and instinctively my hand fell upon the handle of the reel; it would not turn, no effort could budge it; conceive my feelings now, if mortal man can conceive them. The fish coming towards us, the line lying in a long heavy bag behind him, threatening to sink and catch round some rock, or by its slacking up release the hook; I jerked in the line, thinking a grain of sand might have penetrated between the plates, and tried the handle first one way, then the other, in vain.

This all passed with the speed of thought, but the fish was approaching as quickly; there was nothing left but calling one of my men to tell him to take in the line, hand over hand, and holding it in a loose coil, be prepared to pay it out on the next rush. Then thinking that the plates must be bent, I took from my pocket a screw-driver that I always carried, and unloosened every screw. There I stood, grasping in one hand the rod, while the tip bent to the motions of the fish, with the other working away at the reel; beside me my best man, slowly drawing in or paying out the line as need must; both of us eager, anxious, and startled at this new mode of killing salmon; the fish, vigorous as ever, making continual and sustained rushes, but fortunately none as extended as his first.

I had freed every screw in the reel, but without any result; it was as immovable as ever; there was no resource but to do the best we could, in our original mode of proceeding, under the circumstances. Never before had a fish proved himself stronger or braver; for a good half hour he kept us on the stretch, and then sulked. Stationing himself in the edge of the current, he held his own doggedly; fifteen minutes of such behavior exhausted our patience. If I tried to lead him towards the shore, he took advantage of the eddy to resist; if to turn him the other way, he braced himself against the current; a severe strain, however, brought him to the surface, and revealed the fact that he was not sulking at the bottom, but resolutely swimming, head up stream, in the current.

Not a little surprised, we tossed in a pebble, then a stone, at last a rock, when, indignant, he fled down stream; fifteen minutes more of exciting contest, several rushes when he was on the point of being captured, resulted at last in bringing him flouncing on the gaff out of water. He only weighed fifteen pounds, but had been hooked foul, the point having penetrated at the hard bone near the eye.

I then sat down deliberately to discover what had happened to my reel; it seemed to be in perfect order, but would not move; I tried to drive the shaft out of its bearing with the mallet—a heavy club of wood used to kill the fish after they are gaffed, but only after a good hour’s work did I succeed in separating it, and found that for want of oil the two surfaces had become almost solid. They were as bright as burnished gold, and had evidently been heated by the first desperate rush of the fish; after being touched with a drop of oil and replaced, they worked beautifully.

It is curious to note how, in salmon-fishing, accidents will happen when the fish is on the hook; if the line is weakened, or the leader fretted, or the rod strained, the weight and power of the fish expose the weakness; if anything is aught but perfect, it gives way at that critical moment. In trout-fishing you are apt to discover the defects in time, and in bass-fishing the tackle is coarse and strong; but in salmon-fishing you first learn their presence by their parting. Never use a doubtful strand of gut, or a second-quality hook; never tie a knot without thoroughly testing it, and never use a leader that is in the least worn.

The best line by far, for both salmon and trout-fishing, is the braided silk covered with a water-proof preparation, and tapered to the fineness of the gut-leader. If this can be obtained no other should be thought of, but if it cannot, the others are about on a disgraceful par of mediocrity; the one that is usually praised, that of silk and horse-hair mixed, being, if possible, the worst, for while it has the weakness of the horse-hair, and water-soaking capacity of the silk, it has a difficulty especially its own, arising from the protrusion of short ends of hair that have broken or rotted off, and which are continually catching the rings, or guides. The common silk line may be coated with raw linseed oil by stretching it in a garret or some place shaded from the sun, and rubbing it with a cloth soaked in the oil; several coats must be applied, allowing each to dry before a renewal, and care must be taken to avoid exposure to the sun’s rays, which will rot the line. If thoroughly coated it will answer nearly as well as if prepared in a more scientific manner.

The elegance, ease, and delicacy of casting depend much upon the proportions of the leader or casting-line, its length, taper, and adaptation to the line and rod; if these are not accurately ascertained and complied with—and they can only be determined by actual experience with each rod and line—the execution will be faulty. Consequently no absolute rule can be given, but the length and taper must depend upon circumstances. The strands of gut are selected, the clearest, roundest, and hardest being the best, and having been assorted according to size, are tied together with the double-water knot for salmon-fishing, and with either the same or the single-water knot for trout. If it is desired to fasten the droppers between the knots, the latter must be used, and the gut must be well soaked in warm water before it is tied. Leaders thus prepared and suited accurately to the line and rod, will be found cheaper and more satisfactory than those usually sold in the shops, and may be tapered to any degree of fineness.

The fly-book in which the sportsman collects his treasures—the fairy imitations of the tiny nymphs of the waterside—and which is the source of so much delight in inspecting, replenishing, and arranging during the season that the trout are safe from honorable pursuit, is at present one of the most ungainly and inconvenient things that he uses. It is either of mammoth size and filled with flannel leaves in which the moth revel, but in which the hooks will not stick, or it is so ingeniously arranged that the flies on one page entangle themselves in a remarkably complicated manner with those on the other, and whenever the book is opened do their best to tumble out and carry with them such leaders as may be within reach of their obstinate barbs. It has places for articles that are not wanted, and none for those that are; the disgorger, an instrument about as useful to the angler as a jack-plane, is always present, while a piece of India-rubber to straighten gut, or even silk and wax, is never to be found. The pockets and slips are so arranged that the flies cannot be got at without much difficulty, or else fall out with perfect ease, and are invariably, when released, found with the gut so curled up that it cannot be straightened for some time. In fact, the present style of fly-book is a disgusting monstrosity. The true plan is to so arrange the pockets that those of one page will come opposite the hooks on the other in such manner that there can be no entanglement; of course the snells of the stretchers cannot be kept straightened, but the droppers, having shorter snells, may be secured under strips of paper, and left at full length, the alternate flies being at each extremity of the leaf; and on the adjoining leaf in the pockets may be similar flies dressed for stretchers. Or the droppers, all having the gut tied, of the same length by measurement, over two pins stuck into the table, may be secured on both sides of a separate sheet of pasteboard upon hooks and eyes, the fly-hook being fastened into the eye and the loop upon the hook. The latter is attached to a short piece of elastic, and will hold the gut straight and safe. The boards thus prepared are carried in long pockets between the leaves. The book, when filled and ready for use, should not be too large to be carried in the breast pocket, should be composed of stout parchment or ass skin that will resist the effect of dampness, covered with leather or morocco, and closed with a neat clasp.

The best implements will not make an angler, nor enable him, without skill that can only be obtained by patience and perseverance, to perform his duty creditably at the river-side. Especially must he learn to cast his flies far, lightly, and accurately, for of all the angler’s qualifications this art is the most necessary. To do this every writer on fishing has given particular directions, but in reality no plan or formula can be made that is not subject to great modifications; the following, probably, is as nearly correct as any: After the line is lifted from the water, which is done with a quick upward motion of the wrist, the forearm is slowly and steadily raised until the line has described the necessary curve and is extended almost directly behind the angler, when a fresh impulse from the wrist changes the direction to a forward one, the arm following the motion until the line has nearly reached its limit, when it is checked by an almost imperceptible motion of the wrist, and the flies are made to drop on the water gently and quivering with almost the tremor of life. This is the rule when the cast is down wind and unobstructed, and the breeze light and equable, but in practice each cast must be adjusted to the peculiar circumstances under which it is made; the force that will drive out the line in a heavy breeze will not be vigorous enough if it dies down at the next cast, and the line must be stopped short or it will not extend itself; on the other hand, if the wind suddenly increases to a gusty flaw, the flies will be driven into the water with a splash, unless the arm is extended to exhaust the additional force. If the cast is across a strong wind, the line is lifted against it and makes almost a complete circle, and if well managed can be made to so resist it that, in the roughest weather, it will go out its full length and fall with beautiful delicacy. In a hard blow the difficulty will be in raising the line, and at times it will not be found necessary to lift the flies entirely from the water before casting, as the wind, by its pressure on the bag of the line, will carry them out of itself. In fishing a stream there is much to be learned in the art of jerking the flies under the bushes, and tossing the back line directly upwards to avoid entanglements, instead of behind the angler; proficiency should be obtained with the left hand as well as with the right, and in right and left casts, that is to say, where the line is raised on either side and the flies brought over either shoulder. This last point is essential if two anglers are to fish from the same boat, for each should invariably keep the tip of his rod over the shoulder opposite to his neighbor.

These observations are probably all that can be placed on paper with any advantage, for complete knowledge can only be obtained at the brook or pond under the guidance of those skilful teachers, patience and perseverance; and after the line has been neatly cast and the trout lured from his lair under the bank of the stream, or his mossy bed at the bottom of the pond, the art of striking him, that is, fixing the hook firmly in his mouth when he has grasped it, can only be acquired by actual experience. All written directions on this subject maybe reduced to two—it is done with a motion of the wrist and as quickly as possible; and yet if this art is not mastered, the rest will be in vain.

There are few matters connected with fly-fishing that have been more discussed, and about which there has been more difference of opinion, than the length of line that can be cast with the ordinary trout-rod. Assertions are common, and certificates even have been given at public contests that competitors have cast one hundred feet of line, and many persons, especially those not thoroughly initiated, imagine that they can readily manage seventy, eighty, or ninety. But this matter was brought to a definite issue at the convention of the Sportsmen’s Clubs of the State of New York, held in 1864, at the City of New York, when a handsome prize was offered for excellence in casting the fly, and rules were carefully prepared to govern the trial. These rules are given at length hereafter, and provide an allowance, for length and weight of rod, and prescribe certain distinctions as to whether the contest is only as to distance, or as to delicacy and accuracy in addition. In the instance referred to, it was determined that all these points were to be included. No rod was admitted that weighed over one pound or exceeded twelve feet and six inches in length; a gut-leader of not less than eight feet was required, and to this three flies were to be attached. The tackle and rods used by the competitors were, in every instance, those that they were accustomed to use in actual fishing, the lines being generally of plaited silk, covered with the ordinary water-proof preparation. The water was without a current, but ruffled by the effects of a light breeze that died away entirely ere the contest was over, and the stand was a floating platform, level with the surface, and upon which the waves occasionally washed so as to wet the feet of the contestants. The distance was measured along the water by a rope stretched taut and marked at every foot of its length with buoys; parallel with this, and close to it, a staging was erected, on which the spectators could stand and observe accurately the quality of every cast. The contestants were required to use both hands, and were restricted to five minutes’ time. The judges were three of the most experienced fishermen of the State, one of whom is celebrated for his proficiency in, and devotion to casting the fly.

It will be observed that several customary advantages were lost by this disposition, or brought to an equality; there was no elevation above the water, which is always difficult to measure, and which, of course, adds immensely to the distance that can be covered; there was little or no wind to add to the forward motion of the line, and no current to straighten it out, or assist, by a slight resistance to the rod, in recovering it, which, after all, is the main difficulty, as the line that can be lifted and extended behind the fisherman will readily reach its full length in front of him; and the distance cast was measured, not along the line, which will invariably sag more or less, and may have its length considerably augmented by an irregularity in delivery, but along the water. Moreover, the competitors were required to make a neat as well as long cast, lest they should be ruled out for want of delicacy, and had to prove their thorough proficiency by dexterity with the left hand.

The rods used were respectively of ash, with a split bamboo tip; of cedar, with a lance-wood tip; and of split bamboo throughout; and were all of the best workmanship and perfect representatives of their kinds; the contestants were some of the best anglers of the State, and nothing occurred to mar the pleasure of the contest or to disparage the correctness of the award. The prize was won by the cedar rod, which was twelve feet three and one-half inches long, and weighed, with heavy mountings, fourteen ounces; and the greatest distance cast with the right hand was sixty-three feet, although the allowance carried the official return to sixty-eight feet; and with the left hand the absolute distance was fifty-seven feet. The author cannot help adding that the cedar rod was in his hands, and that the prize is now in his fire-proof safe, as he thinks that success at such a trial and against such competitors is legitimate ground for no little vanity.

It is reported that there was a contest of a similar nature in England; but while the length of rod was restricted to twelve feet, there was no allowance for weight. The contestants stood several feet above the level of the water, and the distance reached was seventy-two feet. This, therefore, scarcely furnishes a ground for comparison, as a rod may be made so heavy at the top and limber in the middle as to cast a prodigious line, but which would be utterly unwieldy at the river side; and for every foot of elevation several feet of additional length are gained. In public trials attention must be paid to these particulars, or they will furnish no satisfactory test.

The writer once cast seventy-two feet with the same cedar rod that won the prize; but this, although without the assistance of any wind, was done from a slight elevation with the aid of a current, and was measured by the length of line. It is undoubted, moreover, that sixty-three feet is not the limit that can be attained where no attention is paid to delicacy in delivering the flies, or where but one fly or none whatever is used. The line can be cast considerably farther without a fly attached than with it, and the length and taper of casting-line should accord exactly with the weight and taper of line. This has to be regulated in a measure by practice, and should be carefully determined before a public trial is undertaken.

The author of the American Angler’s Book recommends that the largest fly should be used as the stretcher. This is all wrong, and no one that does so will ever deliver his flies far and neatly. It is contrary to the principle of tapering the line, and has no advantage whatever to recommend it. The largest fly should be the upper dropper or bob, and the next in size the second dropper, while the stretcher should be the smallest. Then not only will the taper be maintained, but if a trout rises at the droppers there will be more probability of striking him. One of the contestants at the trial above mentioned delivered his line so delicately that the flies often could not be seen to strike the water or make the least disturbance on its surface, although the spectators were close to the spot where they fell. He was on a previous occasion ruled out of a contest because the judges could not see where his flies alighted. He is especially careful to maintain the true taper of line, casting-line, and flies, and would scout the idea of using a cast with its largest fly at the stretcher. This is as gross a heresy as putting a shot in the fly-hook, which, while it may tend to break the rod, instead of increasing will diminish the distance reached.

The author of the work referred to, although doubtless a hearty participant in the angler’s pleasures, and fond of the free life in the wild woods by the side of the secluded stream, shows, by his preference for common flies and coarse tackle, that he does not appreciate the higher development of his art in its purity; content rather to fill his basket with a stout hackle from the well-stocked brook of the rarely visited forest, than to tempt the dainty trout with finer imitations from the well-fished pond of the cultivated country. Not only are large flies, especially at the stretcher, difficult to cast, but the hackles which he especially recommends are, from the resistance to the air offered by their numerous bristles, by far the most difficult. It is almost impossible with a light rod to cast a large hackle delicately to a distance; and when three are used, it is entirely so. In clear pools such an apparition would frighten the trout from their “feed” for a week. But in a boisterous, roaring, foaming mountain cataract, where the fish cannot see the fisherman at all, and find difficulty in seeing their prey, hackles and palmers are perfection.

The foregoing match was governed by the following rules, which have been permanently adopted by the New York Sportsmen’s Club, but the allowance of tune is not sufficient where delicacy and distance both are to be determined; and the better plan would be to allow each contestant first to extend his line as far as he can, and then to restrict him to five minutes as to the other matters at issue.