52 FISHING WITH THE FLY. 



and pitch in a most disgusting manner. We had no 

 seasickness on board, but much wakefulness on my side 

 of the cabin. Being thus " Rocked in the cradle of 

 the deep," was not a success as a soporific, in my case, 

 at least. 



August Mil. — Seven o'clock, A. m. We have been 

 sailing since daylight this morning, and are now at 

 anchor near the Sault an Oochon. Mr. Macdonough 

 had occasion to visit a country store near the falls, and 

 suggested that I try to catch a trout for breakfast. 

 The stream which empties into the St. Lawrence here 

 is of considerable size — say forty feet wide — and pours 

 over a ledge of rocks, or precipice, about fifty feet in 

 height, into the head of a small bay. The water under 

 and near the fall is very rougli and swift. My guide 

 launched my canoe, paddled me out, and placed me in 

 such a position that I could cast in the eddy formed 

 by the swift waters from the fall. With a hornbeam 

 rod, of ten ounces in weight, and twelve feet in length, 

 armed with two flies, I whipped the waters. A few 

 casts brought up a trout. I saw its head as it rose for 

 my dropper, struck, and hooked the fish. It ran down 

 with the current, my click reel singing the tune so de- 

 lightful to anglers' ears, until near one hundred feet of 

 line was out. Placing my gloved thumb upon the 

 barrel of the reel, I checked its progress. The trout 

 dashed right and left, from and towards me, at times 

 putting my tackle to a severe test. It kept below the 

 surface of the water ; therefore, I could only judge of 



