INLAND TROUT FISHING. 668 



say nothing of the dangers of a cruise on the hermaphrodite locomotive, 

 and the h)ng walk over the carry. We treated the new-comers to the best 

 we had at our disposal ; the kitchen scullion, even, was in better humor than 

 usual, and bestirred himself in cooking to a point a mess of our fish for his 

 new guests. We recounted our sport in glowing terms, and related such 

 other incidents as we thought calculated to encourage them. But all to no 

 purpose — they could not stand up against the meagre resources of the 

 larder, and the desolate appearance of the Camp, They both got a fit of 

 the blues, and went off early the next morning, without so much as wetting 

 a line ; and thus presenting an admirable commentary on the promised 

 comforts of the "Angler's home in the wilderness." 



" He lifts his silver gills above the flood, 

 And greedily sucks in the unfaithful food, 

 Then downward plunges with the fraudful prey. 

 And bears, with joy, the little spoil away." 



While fishing in the evening twilight I had a very heavy rise, evidently 

 a bigjish, judging from the " surface indications" — I mean the " noise and 

 splashing." The voracious monster missed the gaudy-winged deception, 

 and sunk disappointedly into the depths of the channel, to be lured again 

 therefrom at the next cast of my " Montreal." Sure enough, up the rover 

 came, as savage as before, the moment the stretcher fly touched the sur- 

 face, and, fairly leaping from the water, made a dart at the treacherous 

 insect. I once more saw my victim overshoot the juggle I strove so hard 

 to foist upon him, and down he went a second time as he rolled over on 

 his side and disappeared from view. 



About this time I was considerably nervous, at all events very anxious ; 

 my heart began to thump, my breathing became shorter, my pulse beat 

 quicker, and my knees, sympathizing with the general excitation, were a 

 little tremulous. " Now, or never," said I to myself, " for a ten pounder," 

 as I made a third cast a little further down the channel. My arm was 

 steady, my wrist was true to its work, the " tinselled cheat" fell gently 

 and noiselessly on the bosom of the rippling waters. Up, the bold tenant 

 of the Narrows darted with the dash and fury of a greedy half-starved 

 pickerel. This time he seized the lure — I struck at the opportune moment 

 and secured the daring poacher — away went the clicking reel, as he swept 

 across the gut, and then taking a sudden turn went down stream into deep 

 water. Having every confidence in line and rod, I now gave a few turns 

 to the reel, as it were to feel my " quarry." Up stream the captive dashed, 



