The Hummingbird was invented by M. O. Lownsdale,
of Oregon, in the late 1800s. Even by then, fish
counts were not what they had been in the more
accessible streams, as civilization had taken
its toll on trout populations. But the sea-run
rainbows were prevalent then, as they are now,
and M.O. Lownsdale recounts a summer long trip
in a letter from Mary Orvis Marbury's book. He
talks about flies first:
"An experience of many years has taught
us the efficacy of large flies for this class of
fish. Large fish do not rise often, and a very
substantial and toothsome morsel is needed to
tempt them up through the clear deep pools they
most affect. Our flies are constructed somewhat
like bass flies, imitating no insect, but suggesting
approximately the appearance of a nondescript moth...
We have three varieties which have been found to be
extremely satisfactory. No. 1 is the Silver Lady,
tied with silver body, brown hackles, slate-colored
wings, and often silver streamers for tails. The
wings are solid feathers taken from a young robin's
wing, with the under slate-colored side being turned
outward. No. 2 is the Maid of the Mill, with rough
canary-colored body bound with gold tinsel, yellow
and brown hackles, and double wings, each of four
gaudy feathers from the Mongolian pheasant, with
streamers of golden pheasant plumes. No. 3 is the
Hummingbird, a fly with either silver or lemon-colored
body, orange, scarlet, and brown hackles, wings of
the peacock-blue feathers from a mallard wing, with
red and white streamers. All these flies are tied on
Sproat hooks from No. 1 to 00 in size, and are from
one and a half to two inches in length. Large and
gaudy weapons indeed for a trout fisherman. However,
they are the results of many experiments, and it is
an almost unvarying rule to see large fish taken on
them in pools where common flies were unsuccessful,
or if successful had ceased to attract."
M. O. Lownsdale then gives a very poetic and
beautiful account of why we all fish:
" In these fishing jaunts, when the mountains
are clothed in their most voluptuous dress,
when the forest is redolent with the odors
of swooning flowers, and the river gleams
with a thousand silver lights, while everywhere
are rivulets that drain what must be the springs
of eternal youth, one may drink deep of an elixir
of life more potent than that of Septimius Felton.
In this sense, our last day on the Doherty was
idyllic and prolific of thrilling scenes, while
the victories we dramatically rehearsed about
the camp-fire, at Gum-boot Bar seemed heroic;
and when we laid down at night, bathed in the
amorous breath of the pines, we were fretted
only by the "thrut" of a great trout striking
in the pool below, and were lulled to rest by
the witching song the siren of the river sings;
and a crescent burning brightly in the eastern
sky threw enchantment over all."
~ EA
Credits: Text from Favorite Flies and
Their Histories by Mary Orvis Marbury.
Fly and photo by Eric Austin.
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