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Would a pike eat a muskrat???


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The Musky and The Squirrel

by Don Jordan

 

Muskies are the baddest things that swim in fresh water. Muskies aren't afraid to tackle prey larger than they can swallow, and they will attack human swimmers. Humans report musky bites in Wisconsin about once a year, and lots of muskellunge attacks never get reported. You just hear about them. Most people never see the victims or experience a musky bite in person.

 

Other critters have more to worry about as a fishing buddy from Freedom, Indiana, Dennis Knoy, and I discovered during one fall musky fishing trip.

 

There are a few oak trees on Boy Scout Island, and their acorns are of course great squirrel attractors. It's not unusual to see a gray squirrel working an overhanging oak tree where they often drop acorns into the lake. They make small splashes. You've probably heard the sound--kind of like a nice bluegill striking some surface-riding insect.

 

A gray squirrel that had been rustling the leaves on the forest floor had gradually worked its way to the edge of the cut-away bank. Acorns were dropping from an overhanging oak. Most hit the water, but some hit the stumps and stayed there. The squirrel had spotted this untouched hoard of acorns. He made a few nervous paces, and even ran out on a log trying to reach them, but they were just out of reach. This was a determined squirrel, and any bird feeder can tell you there's no way to deter a determined squirrel.

 

Afraid the rodent might spook our fish, we remained still in the water, hoping the critter would stuff its cheeks and depart. It didn't. It sat there on its haunches munching acorns, and that decision was its undoing.

 

The stump's top was only an inch or two above the water, and we saw the musky before the squirrel did. As Knoy and I watched, a big hump appeared on the surface about five feet from the squirrel's stump. Anyone who's ever seen a musky trail a lure near the surface has seen this wave the fish makes as it swims just under the surface. This one made an unusually large hump, and it moved fast. The fish was on the stump in an blink of the eye. It leapt from the water, grabbed the squirrel and disappeared on the other side of the stump.

 

"Did you see that?" we asked each other simultaneously. Just as we spoke, the squirrel suddenly popped to the top and swam like crazy toward the cut-away bank. The musky hit it again, but only got its tail. The squirrel reached the bank and was clawing up it when the musky tried again, this time stripping all the fur off the bushy tail. But the squirrel held fast and clawed its way desparately up the bank to safety. "Jesus, that's a monster," I told Knoy. "And I don't have a thing that looks like a squirrel in my tackle box." Neither did Knoy.

 

I tied on a big Mepps Musky Killer with a gray squirrel tail treble hook dressing while Knoy opted for a big white buzz bait. When the canoe got to within 20 yards, we started casting. We beat the water to a froth, dropping lures over the entire area where we'd seen the squirrel attacked. No follows, no rolls, no strikes. This was a big musky and had no doubt been suckered by angling tricks many times during its life. It wasn't buying our presentations, and after about 30 minutes we gave up and headed on down the shoreline, chattering about what we'd seen.

 

"I've never seen anthing like that, have you?" asked Knoy. "Nope. Never. That's one to tell the grandchildren, for sure," I replied. "That squirrel was one lucky dude, eh?" "No kidding. Bet he doesn't go near the water again anytime soon," said Knoy. We had gone about 100 yards past the site of the incident and were chuckling about the poor squirrel's bare, pink tail when the crashing and thrashing started again. "He's back! Let's try one more time," I whispered to Knoy, excited once again about a chance at this trophy-sized monster.

 

I turned the canoe and headed back to the stumps. This time as we approached, we could see the musky leaping around the squirrel's stump. When we closed to within about 20 feet, we could see what the fish was up to. The fish wasn't leaping after another meal, it was clearing the water just enough to reach the top of the stump where it opened its mouth and dropped a mouthful of acorns. Neither of us could believe what we were seeing, but we watched the fish make several more trips, repeating the process until there was a visible pile of acorns atop its squirrel trap. Stunned, we made a few half-hearted casts, but we never saw that fish again. It was after fresh meat and knew how to get it.

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Would a pike eat a muskrat???

I beleive they will eat just about anything they can fit in their pie holes and bigger. I don't think the concept of swallowing their food hits their brains untill its wedged sideways in their jaws.

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That is a great story and I must admit you had me going. Earlier this year as my buddy and I were planning our trip to Lakair with our wives we hatched a scheme to tell them we were buying baby duckings to use as musky bait. Of course the women were totally grossed out and my wife even went so far as to say, "I thought I knew who you were..." This went on for a couple weeks and it was all I could do to not blow it by laughing each time my wife voiced her concern about my sick mind. As vacation approached we told them we had to order the duckling harnesses. They said what? We said, "You can't put the hook in the duck, you put the duckling in the harness, the hooks are attached to the harness, you drop your duck over the side in a likely musky spot and just let him swim around". We asked them, "Do you girls want want harnesses?" The women were seriously perplexed at this point, as we said this was fairly common practice amongst hard core musky fishermen and not nearly as barbaric as it sounded. We even included Kevin in the caper. The women were sure we couldn't bring ducklings across the border so we had Kevin send an e-mail that he would have the ducklings on- hand when we arrived. The girls wanted nothing to do with buying their own harness, so I said to them they could use ours if the technique proved sucessful. They started to get suspicious when I told them "just remember, you can't cast a duck more than a half dozen times before they croak, you are better off just dropping them over the side and opening the bail so they swim off".

Finally, a day before we left we came clean. We all had a good laugh, the women called us jerks, and off to Canada we went.

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