26 ANGLERS' EVENINGS. 



we were in the river, and immediately taking half-pound 

 trout. That day is marked in my memory with a white 

 stone; soon I had two great ones on — an event that often 

 happened afterwards — but I only landed one. Before 

 noon came, my basket was quite full of the brightest, 

 cleanest, handsomest, and noblest trout the eye ever 

 looked upon. Then a child from a little wooden cottage 

 by the stream, whom I disturbed at her play, runs away 

 from the stranger, but is coaxed back by the offer of a 

 fish, and I gladly empty my pannier into her little apron, 

 and under a load as heavy as she can bear, she struts 

 back home. There is a fine deep pool here, about which 

 I linger for some time, and soon comes back my little 

 maiden, with a dish of wild strawberries in return for the 

 fish. 



A little further on towards Haeg the stream widens 

 out into a lake, by the side of which we walk, chatting 

 over our successes, until we reach the river again, and 

 from this, almost every foot, for four or five miles, may be 

 fished. Once more I empty my creel, this time to a 

 native who speaks English, having been in California, 

 and for the rest of the day he bears us company carrying 

 and using my landing-net. I gave up fishing before I 

 reached Haeg, for I was carrying my third basketful and 

 we were all hungry. Our new-found companion told us 

 he could take us where the fish were larger than here, and 

 we agreed that after dinner we would set off with him for 

 Breistol, high up in the mountains, which we did at about 

 ten o'clock p.m., arriving there at half-past two. We had 

 no darkness, but a gentle twilight with a ruddy orange 



