FOREST, LAKE, AND RIVER 



popped up in the strong water, but I failed to make 

 connection. With nervous haste I made another 

 bid for the big trout ; this time there was no " go- 

 ing — going — gone!" The bid was taken at 

 once, and my work was cut out — the fight began. 

 Owing to my inexperience, it took me fifteen 

 anxious minutes to land that fish. I could not 

 guide him with my tip ; first, he rushed across the 

 deep pool into the swift water where I feared his 

 pull would break away, then, down and up the 

 pool, and then across to the shallows, where he 

 thrashed so vigorously that I thought he would 

 free himself; but amid all my excited errors there 

 was one I did not make, that of giving him any 

 slack. Being an Englishman, I instinctively held 

 on with bull-dog tenacity that at last brought him 

 in triumph into the net, — a four-pound trout, a 

 thing of beauty, with dark-green back, mottled 

 sides, and a belly of brilliant red. With hands that, 

 wielding the rod, trembled like a leaf with excite- 

 ment, I had started my reputation as a fly fisher, 

 and was happy. 



The next season, a half-hour's visit to that pool 

 weighted my net with a three and a four pound trout. 

 From that time on I lost that miserable feeling of 

 inferiority that troubles a tyro among experts. 



Perhaps I have caught enough big fish to permit 



276 



