The Lure of the Rainbow 109 



almost invariably went into the air in protest, swinging itself 

 with lusty blows, to drop and dash away. 



Anything but fly-casting seemed profanation, in these 

 clear, silent pools and dells, and there should be an unwrit- 

 ten law among anglers to fish for trout with flies alone. 

 Worms, spoons and similar engines of death, are permissi- 

 ble when trout for food are necessary, or a specimen is 

 needed which cannot be taken otherwise; but for sport the 

 fly alone should be employed ; indeed, the big Wilson spoon 

 used here, and upon which a twenty-two-pound rainbow has 

 been taken, according to my companion, Mr. Alfred Beebe, 

 is fatal to the sport, taking all the fight out of a fish, which 

 becomes, either from fright or despair, the antipodes of a 

 fish of smaller size taken with the fly. 



Back into the shadows we row, and again I take the rod 

 and successfully land the game; and so, alternately, we fish 

 with varying success, the points and nooks, at the foot of 

 this splendid mountain, that rises a mile above the sea. We 

 drift up a dainty little river where the banks are lined with 

 willows and aspens, again with tules of countless hues, or 

 masses of wocus with their broad leaves, always in view of 

 the forest and fir-clad mountains ; and at noon we go ashore 

 and up under the giant firs, where my versatile companion 

 proves his superlative rank as a woodsman. 



Perhaps the day is devoted to trout, and we have in the 

 locker several three- and four-pounders, which are broiled 

 over the coals of dead and dry willows, which we collect for 

 the purpose; and then, shades of Lucullus, what a feast! 

 broiled rainbow trout a la Beebe, toast, of which I am a past 

 master (when it does not fall into the fire), tea of a special 

 royal brand, really from far Cathay, trout being the piece de 

 resistance; or, perhaps the day is dedicated to ducks, as well 

 as trout, and blue-winged teal and mallard are passed around 

 and picked by the victorious anglers, then baked in a famous 

 Dutch oven, which Walker has brought in his skiff, while 

 the ladies, who have joined us at the feast, look critically on. 



