Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 3 VOLUME 23 No. 1

Published quarterly at Lincoln, Nebraska, by the Game, Forestation, and Parks Commission, State of Nebraska. Subscription price 25c a year; $1.00 for 5 years.

THE ACORN PRESS, LINCOLN, NEBRASKA Editor. STAFF ___PAUL T. GILBERT COMMISSIONERS Clarke Wilson, Chairman Ernest Bihler, Vice-Chairman Ralph Kryger Dr. C. H. Silvernail Cloyd Clark COVER GIRL

We are indebted to Officer Loron Bunney of Ogallala for the cover photograph of most attractive little Aim Richards, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Richards of Oshkosh, Nebraska.

CONTRIBUTING WILDLIFE CLUBS

We are grateful to the following wildlife clubs for pictures and stories used in this issue: Fremont Izaak Walton League, Lincoln Better Fishing Association, Lincoln County Wildlife Club, Hastings Better Fishing Association, Minden Better Fishing Association, and the Tri-County Wildlife Club.

WORLD RECORD CATFISH

This catfish, taken from Ericson Lake by Robert E. Nuquist, Superintendent of Schools at Ericson, has been listed by Jack Dunham, Fishing Contest Editor of Field and Stream, as the world's record channel catfish. The fish weighed 31 pounds and 11% ounces. This fish was 38 inches long and was caught by Mr. Nuquist on a set line using live green grass frog as bait. Some debate arose over the above photograph as to whether the fish was actually a blue cat or a channel. However, according to a letter received from Mr. Dunham, this fish is being listed in the records of the Field and Stream magazine as a channel catfish. Congratulations are therefore in order to Superintendent Nuquist for this unusual catch.

A similar fish, weighing 27 pounds and 3% ounces was caught from the same lake by A. L. Chantry, Manager of the Consumers' Public Power Company at Osceola. Mr. Chantry caught his fish while trolling for bass with pike-oreno minnow with a fifteen-pound test line.

A similar fish has been caught this spring from the same lake by Paul Johnson, Attorney at Broken Bow.

4 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945

NEBRASKA FISHING LORE

GOOD FISHERMEN AND WOMEN OF NEBRASKA EDITOR'S NOTE:

Many thanks to the fishing lads and lassies of Nebraska for the following fine pictures and stories of fishing in Nebraska by Nebraskans.

FREMONT FISHING FUN By CLYDE COLLEY Fremont Ikes

Wham! Hot Diggety! Did you see the size of that bass? He was a wise old boy, though, for he shook off the fly and dived to depths unknown. On the next cast, however, either he or another old rod-buster, which might have been his first cousin, took hold, and how!

After a pretty show of diving, circling, standing on his tail and shaking himself all over, to get rid of the bait, he was landed-a nice 4 pound bass

Had anyone told me three years ago that large mouth bass, large enough to make good sport, could be found in Nebraska, I'd have said he was crazy. I'd fished for years in northern Wisconsin lake and in Ozark streams, but until moving to Fremont in 1941, I'd never heard of Nebraska being a fisherman's state.

I'm now convinced, however, that there is no need going to northern lakes. There are plenty of tackle-breakers in Nebraska.

In the nearby vicinity of Fremont, Dodge county, there are to be found 26 lakes. These are clear, deep and cold, and in them are large mouth bass, crappie, bluegill, bullheads and carp. These lakes were formerly called "The Sand Pits" by local residents, who didn't think much of them as sources of sport. They lie along the Union Pacific right of way, and were first gouged out when the railroad was built, years ago.

As time went on they filled with water. Trees (mostly cottonwoods and willows) began slowly to line the banks, some of the lakes were set aside as "State Park" area, and the Fish and Game Commission began stocking them.

And now, no foolin', folks, we have some swell productive fishing spots in this eastern Nebraska area. The nearby Platte and Elkhorn rivers afford the river-cat fisherman some good sport also.

But what we need now, more than anything else, is trees. Trees, trees, and more trees! Fish like shady, cool spots on a hot summer afternoon, just like the fisherman himself does.

When a fellow plans a fishing trip with his pals or his family, he likes to pick a place where the waters have plenty of trees along the shore. Mr. Angler knows that a big bass or a blue gill may be lying under that overhanging tree, waiting for that big wooly worm to loose his hold and fall into the water to be gobbled up. And so, that is just where the angler likes to place his fly or bug. Give us time and "The Sand Pits" will be well wooded, for folks are becoming tree-conscious here.

Every once in awhile, on a hot, quiet evening, my best girl and I decide to take a boat ride, she to do the paddling and I, of course, amply prepared to wet a line. On one such evening, not too windy, we hied us to what is locally known as "the U. P. Lake." We took a course with back to wind, and as we almost always did, headed first for a stump not far from the bank. "Lay your bug over by the stump," she said.

Her hunch was right. There he was, a big un, and fightin' mad. Snap went the leader, and we kissed a good bug good-bye.

Before quitting for the evening, we came back to the stump for a final cast   Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 5 or two. Well, everyone has had his leader snapped sometime or other, and has lost his bug, but not so many have had what happened to us just now. For on the second cast, a nice, big bass took the lure, and when brought to the boat, he had the very bug lodged in his mouth that we had lost earlier in the evening!

My wife said, "Nice fish, to bring the bug back to us. Just for that you can go free." And so we dropped him carefully back into the water, after retrieving the two bugs.

You never can tell, when you go fishing. All sorts of unexpected little things happen, and that is just what adds zest to the whole thing.

SANDHILL LAKES ARE GOOD FISHING

By ROY YOHO Lincoln Better Fishing Association

I had always wanted to try my luck in the sandhill lakes, as our good friend "Doc" had frequently told us some almost unbelievable tales of the large and many bass that he had caught almost every time he went out. We finally managed to get away one week end and arrived at Doc's house on Friday evening for supper. The Mrs. was all set to go fishing yet that night but I was not very keen about doing any driving on those, sandhill trails after dark so we decided to make our initial try the next day when Doc would be free to go along and show us where and how they were caught.

We drove up to the lake about 2:30 the next afternoon and lost no time getting in the boat and under way. Doc had chosen a No. 2 Hawaiin Wiggler as his favorite lure while I decided- on a Crazy Crawler as my best bet. Talk about action, we really had it and those black bass were either hungry or mad, perhaps both, as they struck viciously and put up a real fight before we could net them. Two and three pound bass were not unusual but Doc's Hawaiin Wiggler was either more to their liking than my Crazy Crawler or he had just that right twist of the wrist as, when the Mrs. called out that it was time to go, Doc had landed four nice ones and I could boast of just one.

The following is the sad and heart-breaking part of the story: As we reached the shore, I stepped out with some of the fishing tackle and walked up on the bank to lay it down while Doc, in the end of the boat thinking that I was still standing by the boat, handed over the stringer holding five nice bass and said, "Here, Roy, take these." I didn't hear him and he, thinking I had them, let loose and away went our five bass back into the lake probably figuring on just how long it would take them to get rid of the stringer. The Mrs. was terribly disappointed as she had a good fish dinner all planned and what Doc said doesn't matter as I couldn't spell it anyway.

Doc's gooc\ nature soon re-asserted itself and he dismissed the whole thing by saying, "What's the difference, there are more out there and we'll get them tomorrow." We didn't linger at the lake as Doc had a date with the stork in town and was raring to go so said he would be back the next day as soon as he could leave the office. The disappointment over losing these nice bass was soon forgotten in watching the beautiful sunset as we relaxed outside the cabin after enjoying a very good meal, which did not consist of crisp black bass. To me the wonders of nature, especially in our own Nebraska sandhills, is something to forever marvel at and play a large part in any fishing trip. Early the next morning, after a wonderful night's sleep, I decided to sneak out to the lake and show Doc just how to catch bass while the Mrs. was getting breakfast ready. Maybe it was luck or maybe my experience of the day   6 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 before helped but in twenty minutes I had two nice bass and was on my way back to the cabin. After breakfast, nothing would do but I must take the Mrs. out on the lake to catch bluegills and, in a short time, she had her limit and, by the time I had them cleaned, I was all for having that limit lowered a lot. These bluegill from the sandhill lakes are excellent pan fish and what a swell dinner they made and I was about half way glad that the Mrs. had made up my mind to take her along.

Noting a cloud of dust rapidly approaching, my first thought was, "We're in for one of those sandhill storms," and I wondered how long it would take me to dig a foxhole in the sand. Before I could get into action, a car raced out of the dust and there was Doc already and rarin' to go after those black bass. No time was lost getting out on the lake and if I told you just how fast those lunkers hit our plugs, you would say I should belong to the "Liars' Club."

Guess I forgot to tell you where that lake is. You go to Holt County and you won't have much trouble as this county contains only about 2,000 square miles and 100 lakes.

RESERVOIR FISHING PAYS DIVIDENDS

By Jimmy Kirkman Lincoln County Wildlife

North Platte, Nebraska fishermen of this area, who use to plan' their vacations in the lake country of Minnesota, or make annual treks to the Rockies near a trout infested stream, are staying at home these days, and it isn't entirely the fault of the ration board, either.

They'll tell you somewhat boastfully that "there's no reason to go to* Minnesota or the Rockies, we've got better fishing right here at home."

A little investigation proves that there is a basis of truth to these statements, too.

Take, for instance, ruddy faced Charley Fredricey, veteran railroader here.

He'll tell you how, one day, he was standing along the southwest shoreline of the Regulating Reservoir south of North Platte, pretty well mindin' his own business as he dreamily watched the waves lap up the bobber hanging from his aged cane pole when "wham."

The water gulped up the bobber and the play in the line, and before he knew it Charley was knee deep in the reservoir himself, hanging onto the pole and yelling for help.

The state conservation officer here was within hearing range, but by the time he arrived, Charley had hauled out a flopping and particularly stubborn 19-pound, 12-ounce pike. It wasn't a whale, but it looked like one to Charley. It measured 43% inches in length. A minnow was used for bait.

Gerald Moore and J. I. Lindley, also railroaders, insist that the regulating reservoir and the entire Platte Valley Public Power and Irrigation District waterways of this area will produce about any kind of fresh water fish one desires to catch.

They have bagged walleye pike, bass, perch, catfish, carp, crappies, rock bass, rainbow trout, lake trout, bluegills, and bullheads.

They both agree that for best results,   Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 7 trip in and trip out, the minnow is the most dependable.

"If you want big fish, and especially pike, use a large chub minnow," Moore recommends, "and if you catch any fish at all, they'll be big ones."

Moore says that some of his bait is as large as the small fish that are often snagged.

Earl, John, and Glenn Ritner, three brothers who are now in business here, do about every kind of fishing there is, but seek after the trout more often than others.

The rainbow trout they find in the drainage ditches and some of their catches rival in size, number, and taste, anything that can be found anywhere. The trio also do a lot of bass fishing.

There are scores of fishermen in this vicinity who invariably come home with sizeable catches. Most of them own boats and many of them have small fortunes wrapped up in equipment that is designed to lure the most suspicious fish from its haunts.

There's Art Swan, or Hank Reitan, veteran John Den, Keith "Skipper" Neville, Mr. and Mrs. Quincy Wilcox, E.E. "Herb" Hoover, Harold Wiese,"Herb" Tramp. Carl Westerfield, plus a never ending list of fellows who make fishing their main hobby and just mark time in between seasons.

"Yep, this is a. great fishin' country . . . ya ought to come out and try some real honest-to-goodness fishin' some time."

Following here are records of big catches reported here during the last nine years:

NORTHERN PIKE—19 lbs. 14% oz., May 4, 1941, Roy Laird, Ingleside, Neb.

BASS (L.M. or S.M.)—7 lbs. 12 oz., March 13, 1940—Con Yost, Cozad, Neb.

TROUT (any kind)—5 lbs. 6 oz., April 30, 1941, V. R. Beeson, 309 West Fourth street

WALLEYED PIKE —6 lbs. 3% oz., Aug. 21, 1944, Mrs. E. C. Ridinger, 703 East Ninth street.

CRAPPIE or BLUEGILL—1 lb. 15 oz., May 26, 1942, Mrs. Joe McNeill, Jr., 306 South Pine street.

PERCH (any kind) 1 lb. 10 oz., March 8, 1944, Clifford Wills, 204% West 12th street.

CATFISH (blue or yellow)—16 lbs. 13 oz., April 4, 1944, Les Long, 933 East Second street.

BULLHEAD—2 lbs. 2 oz., May 4, 1941, Mrs. Betty Roarke, Sutherland.

CARP—13 lbs. 9 oz., August 21, 1944, E. C. Ridinger, 703 West Ninth street.

And proof that the "big ones" have already started to bite this year are the following catches:

Here are some of the "big ones" that have been caught to date:

TROUT—Ernie Dringman, 617 Garfield, a 2% pounder, bait minnow, in drainage ditch.

CATFISH—Earl Mathers, route 3, 6 lb 10 oz., near diversion dam, using chicken entrails, Les Long, 922 East 2nd, 10-pound 4 oz., in the Platte river, bait minnow.

NORTHERN PIKE — Mrs. E. C. Ridinger, 703 East 9th, near inlet to regulating reservoir, weight 12% pounds, bait minnow.

CRAPPIE— M. J. Class, 920% West Fifth,, 1 lb. 15 oz., near inlet, bait minnow.

BASS—Jim McGovern, 1009 West Fourth, near inlet, 3 lbs. 9 oz., bait minnow.

PERCH— J i m McGovern, 1009 West Fourth, near inlet, 1 lb. 4 oz., bait minnow.

CARP—L. Long, 922 East Second, 8 pounds, in river, bait minnow.

BLUE RIVER FISHING

By L. E. MEYERS Lincoln Better Fishing Association

It was seven o'clock when I arrived at the power dam below Beatrice, loaded down with bait and equipment of all kinds for a day's fishing. I parked the car beside the road and started off on foot winding my way down the only road leading to the dam. The sun was very bright and warm, as it was July in Nebraska. The river was low and ideal for fishing.

I waded out into the river, tied a few lines to the overhanging branches, baited my hooks and then settled myself on   8 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 the soft concrete at the side of the dam to bait up my rods. About every half hour or so I would make a trip down the river to my lines, rebait and return the little channel cat that insisted in getting hooked on them.

Eight o'clock—nine o'clock, no keepers yet. Ten o'clock—eleven o'clock, still no keepers. The sun was boiling down on me like a blow torch. I was getting hot, tired and just a bit disgusted, for I had fished all the day before with the same results. At eleven o'clock I took up my lines, wound up the reel on my casting rod, finished the last of the water in my gallon thermos jug and ate the lunch I had brought. I was preparing to leave when the keeper of the dam drove up to open the flume.

In all of my experience in fishing in the Blue River the first hour or two after the flumes are open has seemed to be the best fishing time. Consequently, I decided to stay. I put a 5/0 hook on my bamboo pole and hooked on about twelve or fifteen large worms. This made a ball of worms about as large as a golf ball. Casting up stream into the swirling water, I began letting out line. In fishing these places I like to let my line belly down-stream. This pulls the bait slowly across the bottom and usually brings results.

In the next hour and a half I used up the balance of my worms and landed four nice catfish the smallest of which was two and a half pounds and the largest one, a shade over twelve pounds. In order to land the twelve-pounder I had been forced to take to the water, in over my boots, as the fish headed down stream as if he were going to the state line. After getting twenty-three pounds of catfish, I decided that I was happy and tired and hot; and since I was out of bait, I called it a day.

WOMEN CHALLENGE FISHERMAN

By CLAIRE PALMER Lincoln Better Fishing Association

Lo, it is Spring again! With our home frontr duties this is not going to mean so much this year to those of us who watch the great outdoors for signs that the finny tribe are again taking a hearty interest in the lures so hopefully offered. But we can dream, can't we? We can enjoy our memories of sport we had in other years, plan for the future, and maybe finangle a little fun as we go along this year. Folk who know their stuff will find some way to go fishing, and folk smart enough to enjoy fishing know it is a relaxation necessary to renew youth and energy. A real fisherman, of course, goes always with the hope of bringing home a nice catch— has visions of crispy brown cat fish and extra red points—but I have seen them come home happy and supremely contented with only a wet line to show for their trip. Because fishing to a real fisherman or woman is as necessary as   Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 milk is to a cat, many of us have explored the prospects near home. Much can be said for the fine fishing in most parts of Nebraska if one will hunt out the places. Almost without exception they are off the beaten path and so much the better. There are some beautiful spots where the family can spend a day, or put up a cabin and enjoy week ends of relaxation and sport. This is one thing many Nebraska women have too long left entirely to the men. There are still too many "fish widows," too many men who have to go alone or with other men when wives could double the enjoyment and share the sport and get a new lease on youth themselves.

Long B.G.R. (Before Gas Rationing), the Board of Directors of our family—Leon, who likes to catch 'em and his squaw who won't clean 'em but will fry 'em—decided unanimously that we would forego our usual trip to Minnesota one year and buy a cabin near home for week-ending. Oh yes, it was our firm intention to resume our annual trip to the lakes the following years, but we have enjoyed our cabin so much that we have never gone out of the state to fish since, and we would like to see more folk have the fun we have had. "On Lee We Lodge" was not much more than a substantial shell when we bought it, but we moved in our gear and tackle and then the real fun started. We added a little here, a kitchen with a pump and sink there, with time off for fishing in between, and when the Japs pulled their dirty deed all we needed was a fire place to make our "home away from home" perfect in our estimation. If the war doesn't last until we are in wheel chairs, we hope to add the fireplace too.

We have enjoyed our cabin in every season of the year. Again B.G.R., we used to gather Christmas greenery and sit around a table and fashion fragrant wreaths, snug as bugs in a rug with a roaring wood fire, plenty of good food and good beds waiting for us. In the Spring and Fall we watch the endless chains of geese and ducks going north or south. Every season has its multitude of interesting activities but in the early Spring, all through Summer and Fall there is FISHING. Those serious consultations when the content of the stomach of the first fish caught is analyzed to find out what bait they are craving. Trips to the river to set lines, seine for minnows, or to a creek or small pond for crawdads. Or those scampers along the edge of the lakes for frogs, sometimes by flash light at night so as to have bait ready for early morning fishing. One must be nimble and sharp eyed for frog catching. In fact, one has to be smarter than the frogs. Just try it sometimes if you think you are pretty good, or even half as good as you used to be. Then take your ten year old out and see how he can outrank you. It is all great sport and when someone comes in with a nice size bass, or a nice string of crappie, catfish or bluegills—well girls you had just better go with the boys. Don't let them have all the fun.

ALL FISHING IS RELATIVE

By C. N. OGDEN Lincoln Better Fishing Association

My opinion is that all fishing or landing fish is relative, in other words it is more fun and you have used more skill in landing a bass of one or two pounds on a four ounce fly rod than it is to catch 30 pound catfish on a throw line. Of course that is just my opinion and I am not looking for any arguments.

The writer has landed quite a few Bluegills, Bass, Crappies, Catfish and even Carp and Leather-back Turtles on a 5 ounce fly rod.

I have caught Kingfish in the Gulf Stream off the east coast of Florida, but we used 60 pound test line with a 40 pound drag on reel. A 20 or 30 pound King did not have much chance to get away.

  10 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945

The most fun and the biggest thrill I ever got from catching one fish was a Nebraska Catfish. I used to have a fishing friend by the name of Walt Shaner. He was telling me one time what large Catfish there were in one of the sandpit lakes we fished in. I said one day (wishful thinking) I would like to hook one of them. He said that all I would do would be to hook him and that he would just get away. So I tried for a year or two, finally one evening I was fishing with bait for Catfish and was winding my watch about 9:45 p. m. and watching my rod and when I got a strike, had noticed the time when I started winding, then dropped my watch outside my pocket and struck. Thirty-two minutes later I took him by the gills and laid him on the grass. He weighed, when I got him back to Lincoln, 14 pounds 2 ounces. During the 32 minutes he never quit. One very peculiar thing, at no time did he ever go to left of where I hooked him. He would go out in the lake then to the right. I would reel him in and back then he would go out and to the right. I had 100 yards of 12 pound test line.

Of course, a lot of the satisfaction on this catch was having my friend Shaner witness the weighing of the fish.

PLATTE RIVER FISHING

By Henry Reidee Lincoln Better Fishing Association

Oh boy, it's Saturday noon and the work for the week is finished and the knowledge that from now on until Sunday night we're going fishing makes our blood run a little faster in anticipation of the fun ahead. We are getting ready to drive to the Platte River where fishing is a real recreation and, as the distance is short, it isn't long until we are there. I keep fumbling around in my pockets for the key to the cabin and finally find it in the one where I had first searched. It doesn't take long to check over the contents of the cabin and find that they have not been disturbed by prowlers, mice, or other rodents.

The first step is to get bait so out comes the minnow seine and we soon find a small channel in the river where, after one or two draggins, a suitable amount of the right kind and size is secured. A nearby pond yields enough crayfish to last us the week end and the bait situation is now well taken care of so the throw lines, bamboo poles, and casting rods are brought into action and set after finding likely looking places to put them. This part of the work on any fishing trip always provides plenty of thrills as we keep wondering which pole, which casting rod, and which throw line will provide the first fish.

There is nothing to do now except wait so we gather together and start back to the cabin where a fire is started and the steaks are soon sizzling and a hearty meal is quickly disposed of. A few stories are told and a little reminiscing goes on concerning other fishing trips but not for long as soon one over-eager lad exclaims, "Hey, Guys, how about having a look at those lines?" This really breaks up the gab fest and everyone is on the way to the river walking faster and faster until I break into a dog trot to keep up. One of the stakes is jerking and shaking and we wade out to get the first fish and, much to our surprise, it's a gar, not at all desirable as food but with quite a reputation as a bait stealer. After this experience, we rebait all the hooks, which have been stripped, and one of the boys calls out that one of the bamboo poles is doing a lot of fancy bending so we pull out our first fish, a nice channel cat of over legal length. What beauties these Platte River channel catfish are, so sleek and trim and nicely marked with black dots, they remind one of a fat trout and as for eating, we still contend that a channel cat fish taken out of the Platte River, is just about tops when fried to a crisp, golden brown

Walking down along the river bank, we were all much interested in watching a muskrat swimming gracefully along apparently intent on his own business and knowing just where he was going. A soft shelled turtle had evidently had a nice meal from our baited hooks and lazily dropped off a log and disappeared as we re-baited and hoped he wouldn't come back for a few seconds. By this time, darkness was approaching and the cattle were slowly walking through the pasture headed for their quiet night's resting place. We retired to the cabin, quenched our thirst, and whiled away a few hours playing cards before returning to our lines again.

This time the old trusty lantern's rays guided us to the river's edge and three more nice channel catfish were soon added to our string. Soon back at the cabin, we made our beds for the night and were soon sound asleep to be awakened early the next morning by the chirping of the wrens, who had taken up their summer abode in the nearby trees. In a few minutes, everyone was hitting the floor and general splashings of cold water from the pump soon had everyone feeling fit. Breakfast was forgotten for the moment and everyone raced for the   Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 11 river anxious to see what results the night had brought forth

The first throw line netted us a nice fish and also the second and one of the bamboo poles was really going to town. This was what I had been waiting for as, from prevoius experience, I felt reasonably sure that we had one that would weigh several pounds. It took a little time to get him into the dip net and out on the bank where we found he measured 24 inches and weighed just five and three-fourths pounds. What a thrill that was for those boys, some of whom had never seen a fish that size landed before. One of the casting rods yielded a fifteen inch channel cat and, as we were taking him in, a killdeer from a safe distance sand bar, let out a few shrill shrieks in protest at being disturbed at his morning bath.

The morning's catch was placed in the live box with the others and, as we were returning to the cabin to prepare breakfast, two very young racoons playing in the morning sunshine, slowly moved away as we approached. No breakfast ever tasted better and eggs, bacon, toast and coffee disappeared in unbelievable quantities. Some of these same boys had probably never before eaten such a large breakfast with so much zest.

After breakfast, we waded across to a willow island where the beaver had been busy cutting down small trees to build dams and also for their food supply. A sudden thunder shower drove us back and we arrived at the cabin just before the heavy rain started.

Several more fish were - taken that day before the lines were finally pulled up, the fish dressed, and the cabin cleaned and tidied up for the next trip. Reluctantly, the fishing tackle and equipment were loaded in the car and, as we pulled out, one lad was heard to say, "Boy oh boy, what a trip! That was worth a million dollars."

Subscribe to OUTDOOR NEBRASKA by Sending 25c for 1 year or $1.00 for 5 years to EDITOR, OUTDOOR NEBRASKA GAME, FORESTATION AND PARKS COMMISSION Lincoln, Nebr.

Can You Name Them?

A Good Fisherman Should Get 50% at Least Otherwise, Better Learn the Various Limits for Various Kinds of Fish.  

NEBRASKAN'S AND NEBRASKA FISH

Minden Better Fishing Association Makes the Kids Fish Conscious  

16 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945

FIND THE VIOLATIONS

By Paul T. Gilbert ANSWERS AT END OF STORY

In the following little anecdote there are 11 fishing violations. Test your own knowledge of the state regulations by listing the violations that you find.

It was the weekly meeting of the ladies' favorite U-deal-em Club, conceived and dedicated to the science of bridge, with a committee as a whole for the discussion of unrelated subjects.

"Sally, dear, I hate to mention it, but it is your bid."

"Oh, my goodness, Dorothy, so it is. I'm so sorry. I was just listening to Lois. Did you hear about it? The Johnsons are buying a new house and really, I know they can't afford it. Why, just the other day I heard that he—."

"Sally, dear, please, will you bid? I have heard all about the Johnsons."

"Really? Oh well then, let's see. You bid b. club? Or was it a spade? Oh yes, well I'll bid a heart. Or does it take two. All right then, I'll make it two hearts. Say, by the way, you didn't say a word about my new hat. It really cost a terrific amount. Jim wasn't going to let me get it. But he was buying a new fish rod and I said that he shouldn't spend so much unless I.. .well, at any rate, how do you like it?"

"It looks as nice as any hat I have ever seen you wear, dear."

"Oh, really, how nice. Thank you, dearie."

"But, Sally, I wouldn't penalize my husband on his one and only recreation, especially just to get myself a new hat."

"Oh, I suppose I shouldn't, Lois, but fishing is so stuffy and messy. I abhore it."

"I agree with you, Sally, I think Lois is babying her husband too much."

"Well, perhaps I am, Dorothy, but have any of us ever fished? Perhaps there is more fun to it than we realize. Don't you think so, Molly? Dan fishes a lot."

"You may have something there, Lois. In fact, I think it would be fun if we just took the situation in our own hands and slipped out and tried it for ourselves. We are quite close to the State Lake here. We could fool the men once and for all if we came home with a nice catch of fish."

"Heavens, girls! I wouldn't touch a messy old worm or a slimy fish for all the men in the world. Perish the thought!"

"Well, Sally, you can stay home, but I'm for Molly's idea. It's so nice out that it is a shame to be sitting here inside playing bridge,—or are we playing bridge?"

And so from an innocent little bridge game, at least as innocent as bridge games can be, evolved one of the most unorthodox fishing trips ever planned. While their husbands were attending a meeting one evening, the girls got together at Molly's, and plans evolved.

"Now this is Dan's casting rod. And according to him, this red-headed plug is best for fishing around here. You just tie it on and throw it out sort of like this. Oops! Sorry, Sally, I didn't mean to hit you."

"I know, Molly, Ted has one like it. But just between us girls, I took it out in the back yard yesterday and tried it. Girls, take my word for it, it's a mess. It tangles up so easily on that little spool where the bobbin is, I couldn't get it undone to save me. Ted blamed it on the cat, thank heaven. I really don't think we should run the risk of using those rods. You know how men are about such things."

"Well perhaps you are right, Lois, let's skip the casting rods. Now, here is Dan's fly rod. It should be easier to figure out. And just look at the flies; there are enough for all of us."

"Oh, girls! How pretty! I don't believe I would mind using pretty flies like this, if I just didn't have to mess   Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 17 with those horrid wiggly worms. Aren't they cute? Look at this darling red one. Ouch! Heavens! they have a hook in them. Why didn't some one tell me?"

"Sally, please, won't you try and understand. In fact, dear, I believe it would be better if you just stayed at home, don't you?"

"Oh, heavens no, I just must go, Lois. It is my duty to try and understand my husband's peculiarities."

So after much discussion, the girls settled on the simple cane pole in order not to trespass on "what they knew were prize possessions. They bought brightly - colored bobbers, and after muzzling the chattering Sally, were loaded and off to the lake as soon as the men had left for their respective offices. Sally was near exhaustion, as she was sitting in the back seat with her eyes frozen on a can of worms well weighted with every heavy object she could find.

"Oh really, I'm a wreck, girls. Am I glad to get out of that car with those old smelly worms! My, what a really beautiful lake. It seems such a shame to spoil it by putting messy old fish in it."

"Now, Sally, you promised to be good. So shush now. Let's see, you have your pole, your license and everything? Okay?

"I guess so, dear. The store was closed, so I borrowed Jim's license. But what do I do now? I just can't put one of those hideous things on this hook; really I can't."

"All right, Sally, but just this once. Now there. Go throw your line in the water. If your line goes down with the bobber, pull and pull hard."

So Sally rattled off, dubious but happy as she tossed her line in the water, laid her cane pole on the bank and settled back to watch the little clouds chase each other across the blue. Molly and Lois likewise soon had their lines in the water and were waiting expectantly while Dorothy, a little more anxious than the others to bring home a nice fish, was really getting set for mass production.

"Yoo-hoo, girls! Look! I'm going to get some fish or know the reason why."

"Good heavens, Dorothy! What is that mess?"

"Oh, my husband made it a long time ago. It's called a throw line. See, there are about a dozen hooks that you bait, and that means just that much more chance of your catching Something. You just tie it to a stick on the bank and then throw all the hooks in the water. Then, too, I brought along four poles with three hooks on each one."

"What a contraption. It takes too long to bait it to suit me, Dorothy."

"Well perhaps; but there is lots more chance of catching fish."

And so they all settled down to a quiet visit, if such a thing is possible under these circumstances, while the actual fishing was left up to the worms, which to say the least were rather gingerly looped on the hooks. The constant purr of voices was suddenly interrupted by a scream from Sally.

"Oh, girls, please help. Oh! My pretty little bobber! What shall I do? It's gone! It's gone!"

"Sally, darling, stop jumping up and down. What is the matter with you?"

"Oh, Lois, my pretty little bobber must have gone down when I wasn't looking. And now it's bobbing around with my pole clear out there in the lake. What shall I do ? It was such a nice little bobber."

"Girls, look at that. A big fish took Sally's line and pulled it out in the lake, pole and all. Gee, I'll bet it's a big one. What will we ever do. Oh—wait a minute, Sally. It's circling around toward Dorothy's line. If only, if only it would ..."

"It is, Lois, it is! Look! He's going to go under your lines, Dorothy. And if he gets tangled up, I can get him and my bobber again. There he did it! He's caught. Come on. But remember, Dorothy, he's my fish."

Sure enough Sally's line caught on Dorothy's hooks and away went the girls, Sally and Dorothy making it a race worth watching. Dorothy grabbed her line and started tugging.

"Oh, Sally, it's a wonderful fish. I can tell by the way it pulls. I can hardly hold it."

  18 Outdoor Nebraska—-Spring, 1945

"Really is it? Oh, gee, and he's mine. I mean I caught him. He's on my pole."

"All right, Sally, dont get excited. There, I've pulled your pole up far enough. Can you reach it?"

"I've got it, Dotty, I've got it! Oh, its so strong! Help! Girls, it's pulling me in!"

And so off went our Sally, holding grimly to the end of the rod while slowly but surely the fish forced her to follow around the edge of the lake. Sally, delirious with fright and learning a new thrill each minute, held on in spite of herself. Strange things will happen to amateurs when fishing. Strange as it may seem, the fish wore out before Sally did. After fifteen minutes, back came Sally staggering along the shoreline still holding the pole in both hands. Most assuredly a short distance out in the lake she was pulling a large but very tired fish like a puppy on a leash.

"Gosh, girls, I wore him out. What do I do now? You know, he is sure big and really sort of pretty too. Here, Lois, take this pole. I'm all worn out."

"Oh, Sally, what a beautiful fish. Here, help me. That's it.' What beautiful big golden scales. It must weigh a ton. I do feel sorry for it, though, taking it out of its watery home. Let's let it gc again."

"No! Don't! That's my fish, and dont you dare let it go. I caught it and I want it. Oh, if Jim could only see me now. He never caught a fish this big. He'd just turn green. Really he would!"

"It's wonderful, Sally. I have never seen such a lovely fish.'

"Im going to catch another right now. Give me the worms. Oh well, maybe you had better do it, Lois."

So the girls went back to their fishing more conscientiously than ever. The big carp was tethered to a rope almost too large for its mouth, nearby where all could watch it.

Dorothy was having no luck with her throw lines, so she took a pole and slowly fished around the lake. It was not long before the girls saw her catching fish one right after another.

"I can't stand it. Dorothy's caught more fish than I have. But even so, mine's bigger. I'm going over there. Dorothy! Here I come. Don't catch them all. I want to catch some too."

"Oh, Sally, just look at the fish I've caught. I'm so thrilled! And it is sure fun. You don't need worms or anything."

"Oh, my, how pretty! Green top, orange bottoms and what a pretty little blue spot by the ear. Or is it an ear? Did you say no bait?"

"Well look, Sally, see there in the water by each little dent in the sand, all through this shallow water, there is a fish. You just throw your line in and the fish won't move. Then just let the hook drift under them and pull up. See ? Just like that. Don't they shimmer pretty in the sunlight?"

"Oh, what fun, Dorothy! Let me try."

So the happy pair busied themselves with the exciting pleasure before them, not stopping until Dorothy had presence of mind enough to start counting.

"Sally, dont catch any more! We have fifty now. Imagine that! And the sign at the gate says total bag limit 25. Come on. Help me carry them. They are small, but heavy."

"Oh boy, oh boy! Jim will have a fit. His little Sally out-fishing him. I'm kind of a mess, though. They are so slimy. But it sure is fun. Girls. Oh, girls! Look what we have. Say Dorothy, aren't they catching something too? They look big. Let's hurry."

"Hi, kids. Say, Sally, you sure have a lot of fish. But just look at the big ones we are catching here."

"Oh, gee, they're bigger than ours. Come on, let's catch some. Oh, golly, fishin's fun. Let me at 'em."

"Gosh, we have at that. But just look how nice and big these are."

"Yes, I know, Saily, but after all— - Oh, I know, let's put some of these littler ones back and then we can catch some bigger ones without being wrong."

"Good, Sally, but we'll need worms here."

"That's right, Sally, and we're about out too."

  Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 19

"Oh, well, come on, Dotty. We'll dig some here by the lake. I think this is a likely looking- spot for a worm to live. I think that is just the spot I would pick to live, if I were a worm. Ugh! What a thought! Anyway, let's dig here."

The girls dug and dug, but no worms. However, with the aid of an old piece of cheesecloth they were able to seine up a very few minnows with which they finished catching their limit.

They were soon on their way home, rejoicing happily in the knowledge that they had beaten their better halves at their own game.

"Really, girls, Jim will just be delirious. Imagine his little angel catching fish. Oh, my big beautiful—What did you call it, Dorothy?" "A carp, dear."

"Of course, a carp. I'm sure Jim has never caught one, because he never brought home a fish like that one. I'm going to have Jim's boss over. We will have a big fish dinner and serve my beautiful fish. Jim's boss is almost a professional fisherman. He will really be impressed when I serve that big fish I caught myself."

"I'm sure he will be most impressed, dear. Let me know what he says."

"Oh, it was such a lovely day. Just look at the lovely flowers I picked by the lake. And it was all so much fun. You know, girls, I don't blame our men for loving fishing. It is messy, but fun."

"Oh, yes, Sally dear, and we did it all legally, too, I'm sure. Dan will be so proud, since he's a good friend of the Conservation Officer in this district."

The following violations occur in order in the preceding story.

1. It is illegal to borrow or loan a fishing or hunting permit.

2. It is illegal to use throw lines or floats in State Lakes.

3. It is illegal to have more than five hooks on any throwline and it is illegal to have more than a total of fifteen hooks per person in waters other than State Lakes.

4. It is illegal for one person to use more than two poles with more than two hooks each in State Lakes.

5. It is illegal to catch fish by snagging.

6. Although the total possession limit on all game fish combined may be twenty-five, individual limits on specific kinds of fish must be followed. In this case, sunfish or bluegills, the limit is only fifteen.

7. It is illegal to return a legal size fish to the water unless it is done with a maximum amount of care at the immediate time the fish is caught.

8. It is illegal to dig for bait on a State Lake or Recreation Ground.

9. It is illegal to seine for bait in a State Lake.

10. It is illegal to use any minnow seine with meshes smaller than % inch.

11. It is illegal to pick flowers or disturb vegetation on a State Lake or Recreation Ground.

A DOG'S LIFE

I'm sorry sir, I didn't know The place where I'm supposed to go. I've never lived in a house before, With nice soft rugs upon the floor. There's so many rooms, I'm in a muddle; And in each one I made a puddle. Outside nobody seems to care, But in the house I just don't dare, So please be kind and I'll be good And try to go just where I should. Then we'll be pals for life I know. Whoops! I'm sorry, sir, I just had to go. — Paul T. Gilbert

20 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945

It is with deep regret that the Editor announces the untimely death of one of the department's most conscientious and faithful Conservation Officers, Bert Lashmett. Officer Lashmett, more affably known as "Buck," died April 23, 1945 of a heart attack while caring for the birds at the Norfolk State Game Farm.

Officer Lashmett served as Conservation Officer for the state over twenty years and was only recently transferred to the Game Farm division because of poor health. Officer Lashmett was well known throughout the state for his conservation activities and was held in high esteem by the Game Commission, whom he served tirelessly and well for so many years.

Officer Lashmett is survived by his wife and six children.

"Buck's" contributions to a better outdoor Nebraska will long remain a fitting and permanent tribute to the improvement and development of this, our state, while "Buck" himself will ever serve as a true example of clean faithful and conscientious game law enforcement in Nebraska.

Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 21

The Commission's Division of Fisheries Produces

By Glen Foster, Supervisor of Fisheries

The Division of Fisheries like most of the other divisions of the Game, Forestation and Parks Commission has not had an easy time the last two years in keeping all activities going. The Fisheries Division consists of all activties having to do with the propagation, distribution and management of all things pertaining to fish in Nebraska. There has been no opportunity or no attempt to expand or make major improvements; they were fortunate in being able to show almost normal production in fish propagation, rough fish removal and salvage work.

The most serious handicap has been the inability to secure personnel for replacing experienced men who have gone into military service or into essential war industries. Without the cooperation of the sportsmen and without the willingness of the fishery employees to put in long days and extra energy, it would have been impossible to continue the operation of all phases of the fishery program.

Gretna Hatchery

This station, the oldest in Nebraska, has been working mainly on channel catfish production although they also produce black bass, bluegill and crappie. The catfish production for 1944 was almost nothing. This was just one of those things that cause fish hatchery men to get gray at an early age. Approximately 200,000 catfish fry were planted in rearing ponds in the spring of 1944. When these fish had reached a size of 1% inches, a test haul was made and it was found that practically all catfish had disappeared. The rearing ponds were drained and the bottom soil sifted. No signs of the fish could be found. In testing the water, there was a certain chemical found to be present, the chemical being similar to that used at a deense plant upstream. Tests with this water indicated that it would kill fish although no explanation was found for their complete disappearance. Steps are being taken to try to eliminate this danger this year, so that this station will be back to normal production.

Rock Creek Hatchery

This station is our largest trout producing station. The last two years, however, very few adult trout were produced due to the lack of meat products for feeding out the fish. The trout were stocked in natural rearing ponds and most of them stocked in the streams in the fall of the year. The cut-down in the production of adult trout was also due to the labor shortage in this vicinity. This station is twenty miles from town, which makes it less attractive because of gas rationing.

This station is called our one-man hatchery, as Mr. Frank Weiss has carried on almost entirely alone there for the last two years: Without the sportsmen's aid at times and the aid of his family, it would have been necessary for Mr. Weiss to cut the production of trout to almost nothing. Warm water species such as black bass, bluegill, rock bass, etc., are also raised at this station. An attempt is being made this year to hold over a larger number of trout to adult size.

Valentine Hatchery

We were fortunate at this station in keeping two of our regular experienced men. This is our largest warm water hatchery, which produces fish for stocking most of the north half of the state. Beside the stocking of all of their own fish, a large number of federal fish from the Crawford Hatchery were planted and some salvage work done by this hatchery. Many of the sandhill lakes that were formerly dry and that now have plenty of water in them have been stocked the last two years. Some of these lakes are now producing excellent bass, bluegill and crappie fishing.

North Platte Hatchery

This is our newest hatchery and was created to produce pike for the large series of reservoirs through the central part of Nebraska. We will be unable to complete the construction work on this station until after the war, but the ten ponds now are being used to the maximum. Two and a half million walleye pike eggs were hatched there this year and nearly one million will be held over and reared to fingerling size before stocking. This is a very difficult undertaking, as the walleye pike is one of the most cannibalistic fish we have. We plan to carry on many experiments at this station on pike and also on fertilization of ponds for food production.

  22 Outdoor Nebraska—Spring, 1945 Salvage and Rough Fish Removal Crews:

This fishery division now has two seining crews operating- in the state. One crew is headquartered at Lincoln to take care of the salvage work along the Missouri River and to carry on our catfish stocking program.

The large number of reservoirs and irrigation projects in the state has made it necessary to establish a seining crew in the western part of the state to salvage fish that would otherwise be lost in the irrigation ditches and to control the large number of rough fish being produced in the reservoirs.

Both of the crews have been very badly handicapped by lack of help but have carried on the work by putting in extra hours and energy.

The Commission senses the great importance of controlling rough fish in all game fish waters in order to give the game fish a chance to propagate naturally. Fish hatcheries and stocking alone cannot solve the fishing problems. The Commission realizes that much must be done to improve the habitat so that the fish can survive after being stocked.

It should also be noted that the fishery division is increasing the stocking of larger fish each year. With more rearing ponds in the future, more and larger fish will be stocked, thus giving them a better chance to survive in waters where there are already large fish.

More care also is being taken in stocking of new waters and in restocking of lakes. It is a well-known fact that an overstocked lake is just as bad or worse than an understocked lake. It has been shown that, with care in stocking of the correct species and investigation of the food supply and other conditions, larger fish will be produced in a shorter length of time.

Many waters in the state are becoming depleted of forage fish and it is necessary that the hatcheries begin to produce their own forage fish for the rearing of game fish. It may also be necessary in the future, unless steps are taken to protect the forage fish, that the state raise them to stock in fishing waters.

KEY TO FISH Pages 12 and 13 1. Carp 2. Blue Catfish 3. Fresh-water Drum 4. Green Sunfish 5. Brook Trout 6. Black Crappie 7. Quillback 8. Brown Trout 9. Mud Catfish 10. Large-mouth Bass 11. Sauger Pike 32. Gizzard Shad 13. Channel Catfish 14. Rock Bass 15. White Crappie 16. Yellow or Ring Perch 17. Rainbow Trout 18. Yellow Bullhead 19. Pumpkinseed Sunfish 20. Wall-eye Pike 21. Bluegill Sunfish 22. Common Sucker 23. Small-mouth Bass SPECIAL NOTICE Nebraska's first Deer Season will open December 1 to December 21, inclusive, in the Halsey forest area. Application by letter and enclose check or money order for $10.00 permit fee. Names will be drawn by lot, names not drawn will be returned fee. Limit one deer. State in application letter approximate date you wish to hunt. Application should be in this office by August 10 for drawing August 15. Send application to: GAME, FOBESTATION AND PARKS COMMISSION Lincoln, Nebraska

HERE AND THERE IN NEBRASKA WITH HOOK AND LINE