TROUT IN NOR IV A V. 1 1 



small trout ; and then, singling out a lad to carry my 

 landing-net, I went a few hundred yards down stream, 

 where the dimples and wrinkles on the surface of the 

 water showed that deep rocks lay where the eye, in 

 the twilight, could not see them. Here I threw out my 

 flies, and instanter, away goes the line, making the reel 

 sing out its delightful music. Whilst the fish runs 

 unchecked I turn to my lad and joyfully call "stor 

 fisk," which are the only words I know for " big trout." 

 " Stor fisk," he replies, as glad as I. But it is no easy 

 thing to have a lad who can hardly understand a word 

 you say, handling your landing-net. " Gently," you 

 bawl out, as you carefully wind your fish in, and in 

 response, your assistant with a clumsy splash of the net 

 frightens the trout away into the midst of the waters 

 again, and there is your hope of supper and breakfast 

 which was at your feet a moment ago, twenty yards out 

 in the pool and still running. He has never shown 

 himself, so the chances are he is well hooked, but you are 

 bound to put some pressure on, for you do not know 

 what he may be making for. At last he comes slowly in 

 again, tamed this time, and the lad whom you have been 

 shouting at in your own language, for you can find no 

 other, more lucky than before, gets the net under him, 

 and lifts out a nice sea-trout of a pound and a half. This 

 might serve for supper, but there is still light enough to go 

 on, and you cannot find in your heart to leave the pool. 

 Again the flies dance on the surface, and another sea-trout, 

 somewhat smaller than the first, comes into the net. One 

 more fish, about the same size as the second, is caught, 



