THE TROUT SEASON

The middle of April was always an important time of year in the MacIsaac residence in Bear River. It was on this occasion that the trout season began and many anxious children could hardly wait to catch their first fish.

The children would have their fishing poles out long before the big day arrived. If the weather was not cooperating they could not practise casting their lines outdoors, they were often caught doing this in our large kitchen.

When the day arrived they were up at dawn to renew acquaintances with their favorite fishing hole before it was time for school, or before the children in the neighborhood would get there ahead of them and claim the best spots.

The bank was cold and snow covered, but that did not deter them from going, for they were certain that they would catch a three pounder for their breakfast. Somehow, that never seemed to happen, so they were content to bring home some that were much smaller in size. It was amusing to watch them coming home with their trout tied to their pole. The size did not matter anymore, for they were happy to have a gad of fish to put on display. After having a trout for breakfast, they were off to school on the bus to inform their friends about the morning’s catch, with a little exaggeration, no doubt.

The competition was on. For many evenings, fishing took the place of television, as the number of participants grew, the size of the trout declined. That did not bother them, for it was a time of relaxation and enjoyment with their friends. This left them with many memories that still exist today.

One hot summer’s evening, some of the children decided to go fishing. I thought that I would tag along and maybe catch a fish or two. We were sitting on the side of the bank waiting for the fish to bite when all of a sudden, we heard a loud bang. I was nearly scared out of my wits, until I discovered that it was only a beaver. He swam down the stream unnoticed, and when he saw us he sent out a warning signal by flapping his rubbery tail. Then he swam away with just his snout visible above the water. Everyone Watched as he disappeared into the wilderness.

We later decided to look for mayflowers. They were often found where the mossy soil hid them from view. During the search, we moved the grass,

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