Rambles with a Fishing Rod. By E. S. Roscoe. (Blackwood
and
Sons.)—Now that most people, a few salmon fishermen excepted, have put away their fly-rods, it is pleasant to read such a book as Mr. Roscoe's. He has no miraculous take of fishes to record. On the contrary, even the best basket which he describes might easily be surpassed in a Sutherlandshire trout loch. But he takes his readers to some new and very pleasant places, discourses to them very agreeably of persons and scenery, as well as of sport ; tells faithfully of disappointments, as well as successes; and generally shows himself as agreeable a "book companion" as one could ex- pect to find. The general impression left by his experiences is one at which one might arrive without personal knowledge, viz., that the angler who seeks for trout in the streams of Germany or the Tyrol finds only the gleaning in August. So late as that, the angler who wants large baskets must go north. Not only is the season too far advanced in southern countries, but the fish have been sadly thinned, for on the Continent the streams and lakes are utilised as sources of food supply in a way of which we in this island have no experience. Still, though the trout are scarce, there are grayling. And in any case, if the traveller be not a mere catcher of fish, he will get many delights, amongst them being that thorough change of surroundings which one must cross the seas to obtain. One paper is given to Connemara, and another to "Sea-trout Fishing in Scotland.' Sea-front fishing is, indeed, though, as the writer, after a humorous description, remarks, not by any means a contemplative recreation, is an admirable sport,—the more the pity that it is rapidly diminish- ing. The sea-trout is too eager a creature, and, therefore, too easy a prey. We fear much that, in all accessible places at least, he will almost disappear. The present writer can remember hearing of more than eighty falling in a day to a single rod, and has himself, though but a very indifferent performer with a fly, secured as many as thirty-five, averaging a pound, in six or seven hours. One of the papers, and not the least interesting, is on "Pike- fishing in the Black Forest." Pike-fishing is somewhat unreason- ably despised. There are places on the Continent where it could be followed with success ; Mr. Roscoe mentions one of them. We fancy that others, e.g., in Holland and Pomerania, could easily be found. The Black Forest "See," in which Mr. Roscoe tried his fortune, is, indeed, hardly first-rate. Thirty pounds seems to be considered a very good, and fifteen to twenty an average take. Two rods seem to have been satisfied with 150 in seven days, one of the fish scaling as much as thirty. (We doubt whether the landlord was not drawing the long-bow, when he said that this fish took three hours to land. The "gamest" pike we ever saw was exactly of this weight, and though hooked with spinning-tackle outside the month, was landed in less than half an hour.) A daily average of ten pounds and a fraction is but moderate. We know of a place where an angler
would easily treble it. But no tortures would make us reveal the name. We have nothing but praise for the good-nature with which Mr. Roscoe takes the world into his confidence.
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