54 A TASTE OF MAINE BIRCH. 
he had not time to reel up his line, and in his extrem- 
ity he stretched his tall form into the air and lifted 
up his pole to an incredible height. He checked the 
trout before it got under the boat, but dared not come 
down an inch, and then began his amusing further 
elongation in reaching for his reel with one hand, 
while he carried it ten feet into the air with the other. 
A step-ladder would perhaps have been more welcome 
to him just then than at any other moment during his 
life. But the trout was saved, though my friend’s but- 
tons and suspenders suffered. 
We learned a new trick in fly-fishing here, worth 
disclosing. It was not one day in four that the trout 
would take the fly on the surface. When the south 
wind was blowing and the clouds threatened rain, they 
would at times, notably about three o’clock, rise hand- 
somely. But on all other occasions it was rarely that 
we could entice them up through the twelve or fifteen 
feet of water. Earlier in the season they are not so 
lazy and indifferent, but the August languor and 
drowsiness were now upon them. So we learned by 
a lucky accident to fish deep for them, even weighting 
our leaders with a shot, and allowing the flies to sink 
nearly to the bottom. After a moment’s pause we 
would draw them slowly up, and when half or two 
thirds of the way to the top the trout would strike, 
when the sport became lively enough. Most of our 
fish were taken in this way. There is nothing like 
the flash and the strike at the surface, and perhaps 
only the need of food will ever tempt the genuine 
angler into any more prosaic style of fishing; but if 
you must go below the surface, a shotted leader is the 
best thing to use. 
Our camp-fire at night served more purposes than 
