A Leaky Reservoir — What NOT To Do When Fishing

1900

How the Heart of the Disciple of Izaak Walton Was Saddened

"These gloomy days," said an old citizen, "recall a gloomy day when I was a boy and went fishing in a famous creek not far from my home. It was a well stocked creek. There were bass in it and shiners as big as a man's hand, and quite a lot of whitefish that would run a pound or a pound and a half, perhaps.

"I got out my tackle on this particular gloomy day and went down to the creek. It was a muggy day and a warm rain fell from time to time in light showers. I found my favorite pool and set to work. By George! I never had such luck! It seemed as if those fish were waiting in shoals to seize my hook. I yanked them up as fast as I could bait my hook and throw in, and they came out so fast that I couldn't spare the time to string them.

"I looked around. Some eight or ten feet from the stream was quite a good-sized round hole full of water. A heavy rain the night before had filled it up and it must have contained a couple of pails. A happy thought prompted me to toss my captured fish into this receptacle. I fished and fished until I was actually tired of the sport, and then as it came on to rain harder I thought I would quit and tote home the biggest catch of the season.

"I rolled up the line on the pole and drew from my pocket the stringing string. Then I went to my little pool of captives and, by George! there wasn't a fish in it! No, sir; not one! You see, it was a muskrat's hole and there was a tunnel reaching from it to the creek, and every fish I caught had wriggled through this opening back to his native lair. There was no help for it. I stared at the hole and I started back at the creek and then as the rain began to come down harder, I reluctantly turned away and trudged home a wiser, though a sadder boy." — Cleveland Plain Dealer.