BLACK BASS 



OF THE RAIN BO IF 



IT is near the hour of sunset's parting. Lake 

 and forest are bathed in tints of gold. Soft 

 and gentle is the breeze that kisses into rip- 

 ples the surface of the water. The canoe is 

 held motionless at a spot where the line of shore 

 bends, forming a miniature bay, and appealing to 

 the sportsman as a favorite place of the gamy little 

 fighters whom he is soon to meet in fair combat. 

 He selects a spot where the distance from the bor- 

 dering bush-growth seems to indicate the right 

 depth of water, and makes the cast. The flies 

 fall gently upon the water. Quickly is the chal- 

 lenge accepted. The fish is struck securely ; a 

 whirr of the reel, a flash of a darting body, and 

 the fight has begun ! 



No more marvellously beautiful spot or entranc- 

 ing sport is conceivable, excelling as it does both 

 in excitement and kaleidoscopic coloring, at such 

 an hour on a perfect day. 



Now comes a struggle for supremacy 'twixt 

 human skill and the power Nature gives to one 

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