58 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS 



Years ago, on the Reedwater, in April, a tragedy 

 occurred before my eyes. In a still pool raged sudden 

 commotion. Towards the shallow shore where I stood, 

 raced trout and troutlets in scores, splashing in and out 

 of water in evident terror- — several so stranding them- 

 selves that I picked up three or four. Behind them 

 was clearly defined the heavier wave of something big. 

 At the moment, I concluded it was a marauding kelt. 

 But that, I am now satisfied, it' was not; for, if such 

 were the habits of kelts, one would see the spectacle 

 repeated daily — almost hourly ; whereas never during a 

 lifetime have I witnessed such a scene save on this one 

 solitary occasion. The actual aggressor never showed ; 

 it might have been an otter, less improbably a pike, 

 which fish, previously unknown, at that time appeared 

 in Reedwater. A cannibal trout is the simpler solution. 



The above incident is mentioned as illustrative of 

 one of the many inexplicable features that surround the 

 lives of salmon in fresh waters. After spawning, the kelts 

 do most undoubtedly feed, for they rapidly recover con- 

 dition on their seaward way. Yet one never sees them 

 feeding as one sees the trout — one seldom or never sees 

 them taking natural flies ; still less, chasing smaller fish. 

 And it would be impossible, within the narrow limits of a 

 river, for such large fish to do these things unseen. There 

 is, of course, the alternative that they find nourishment in 

 other ways ; but, in such case, their intense greed for 

 artificial flies becomes still more incomprehensible. 



In bidding good-bye to the kelts — (to whom, by the 

 way, our utmost respect is due, for, however intrusive and 

 annoying they may be to the trout-fisher, we must 

 remember that they have done their duty once, and are 

 only anxious to do it again) — I may add that it is 



