is a sensible diminution of the size of the catch, which now run from one-half to four pounds, and anything over that weight is the exception. This would seem to confirm the supposition of Professor Agassiz, made many years ago, that these large fish possibly may have reached an age of from 100 to 200 years, as they were evidently very old.

Any one who has been thrilled with the vigorous strike of one of the ordinary sized fish would be almost beside himself when one from three to five pounds rose to his fly, and if his tackle was good, the sport derived therefrom would serve him a lifetime; and when the shades of night had fallen upon the camp, and he with his fellow-fishermen collected around the great fire, point and vigor would be given to his recital of how he caught and played the monster he that day had brought to his creel.

"Athenæus-called by Suidas 'a literary man'-who wrote in the middle of the third century, cites in his writings no less than 1,200 separate works and 800 authors, and of the latter the names of a very large number are given in his 'Banquet of the Learned' as those of authors who had written on fish and fishing."-Rev. J. J. Manley.

"A huge fish takes the bait fallacious, suspended from the rod." -Theocritus (270 B.C.).

"I have heard of a Macedonian way of catching fish, and it is this: They fasten red wool round a hook and fit on to the wool two feathers which grow under a cock's wattles, and which in color are like wax. Their rod is six feet long and the line is of the same length. Then they throw their snare, and the fish, attracted and maddened by the color, comes up, thinking from the pretty sight to get a dainty mouthful; when, however, it opens its jaws, it is caught by the hook and enjoys a bitter repast, a captive.”—Elian (second century).

"While the other, stooping over the rocks toward the waters below, lowers the bending top of his limber rod, casting his hooks laden with killing baits. Upon these the vagrant crowd of fishes, unskilled in snares, rush, and their gaping jaws feel too late the wounds inflicted by the hidden steel."-Ausonius (fourth century).

"Nor shall I leave thee unhonored in my discourse, O Thymallus (grayling), whose name is given thee by a flower; whether the waters of the Ticino produce thee or those of the pleasant Atesis, a flower thou art. In fine, the common saying attests it; for it is pleasantly said of one who gives out an agreeable sweetness, he smells either of fish or flower: thus the fragrance of the fish is asserted to be the same as that of the flowers. What is more pleasing than thy form? More delightful than thy sweetness? More fragrant than thy smell?"-St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan.

FLY-FISHING FOR TROUT IN THE RANGELY

REGION.

BY

HENRY P. WELLS.

THE Cosmopolitan angler, he who wets his line in many waters in many localities, recognizes and is governed by one truth, of the existence of which the experience of him who confines his fly-fishing to a single restricted locality, gives no intimation.

The conservative Englishman differs from the more progressive American, and the phlegmatic Dutchman from the vivacious Frenchman. All may be gentlemen in the highest sense of the term, yet each has his local whims and peculiarities, a due deference to which is one of the conditions of successful and profitable intercourse with him.

The widely experienced angler recognizes these local differences in trout, as in men. He therefore stocks his fly-book with many sizes of many-colored flies; while the other contents himself with half a dozen varieties, possibly of two slightly different sizes, and smiles with scarcely disguised pity and contempt at the, in his opinion, quantity of useless lumber which fills the former's fly-book.

As trout prefer different flies in different waters, so have they also a preference as to the manner in which they shall be served to them.

The Turk curls his legs under him and attacks his food with the implements which nature has provided him, while the European insists on a plate, knife, and fork.

Fishing for trout in the Rangely region is a case in point.

Every angler who visits that home of large trout, aspires to the biggest. The following remarks apply solely to the method of taking such, and with the fly only. Small fish up to two, or two and a half pounds, can readily be taken there in the usual manner, and by the exercise of a very moderate degree of skill.

In ten quite protracted trips to those waters, I have never seen nor heard of a trout exceeding two pounds in weight rising to a natural fly. Rise the large ones do, rolling up to the surface with a swirl like that made by the blade of an eighteen-foot oar, showing a breadth of tail and side that causes the heart of the unaccustomed angler to bound into his throat, and nearly choke him with mingled wonder and desire. But unless dashing through a school of minnows on some still evening, why these giants thus disport themselves has eluded observation. It seems certain that they then take no food, and that its pursuit cannot be the object they have in view. At such times, large flies and small flies, as well as every other wile known to the fisherman (except a shot-gun), has

been tried, and tried in vain. Many regard it as an unlucky omen, and such has been my own experience. The most careful observation has suggested but one possible explanation-that it is done to aggravate the angler. If so, it is phenomenally successful in result.

Assuming it to be true that these large trout are not surface feeders, it might be supposed that those combinations of form and color which were most successful in taking them, would bear little or no resemblance to the local insects; and such is the fact.

As in most other localities, a half-dozen varieties are sufficient. But these should be tied on large hooks; those shown in the illustrations of "Lake Flies" in this book being none too large-indeed, hooks even as large as numbers 1, 2, and 5 of the first plate of "Salmon Flies" are at times not at all amiss.

The most taking flies are as follows:

Before all others in my esteem ranks the "Parmacheene Belle."

We generally cease fishing in the middle of the day. After dinner the fly-box is apt to appear, and the word to be, "Well, John, what shall we tease them with this afternoon?" Thus, some seven years ago, this fly was born. Of a very large family, it, on the grand general principle of the survival of the fittest, alone outlived its youth.

That the large trout looked upon the artificial fly not as an insect, but as some form of live bait, we agreed was probably the fact. Upon this theory, that combina