138 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT i 



Lions, met unexpectedly by trespassers in their 

 preserves, pale for a moment the face of the bravest 

 man, but what is a Httle pallor compared to a change 

 from a health}^ white man's bloom to the coal-black 

 hue of tar which friends of mine have donned on 

 face, neck, and arms, in deference to Canadian flies? 



Kature has lavished her most finished touches on 

 every member of the countless millions that help to 

 make the mighty hum which comes from we know 

 not where. Kings may talk and we are not bound 

 to listen, but the buzz of bog-bred flies commands 

 attention, and the tiniest of them is so armed as to be 

 able to miake its presence felt. They are loving crea- 

 tures that from their first taste of you swear a friendship 

 which no amount of hustling will cause them to forgo. 

 Fortunately for us their hves are short, and they have 

 no reason to complain, for, if appearances may be 

 tnisted, they get more enjoym^ent in their one brief 

 day than the elephant in his century. 



it was a happy day they had \vith me when the 

 high water which lent itself to successful fishing had 

 disappeared, and I was anxiously waiting for the 

 rain that heavy clouds were promising. My two 

 sons were fishing on a small lake, a portion of the , 

 river that broadens out, where the salmon and large 

 sea-trout congregate to wait for floods. I was on the \ 

 bank, where the river ran narrowly, with my rod i 

 stretching out through the branches that overhang j 

 a deep, gravel-bottom hole in which my worm-baited ; 

 hook invited attention. This effort at sport was so j 

 httle exciting that I stretched myself upon the grass, 

 and I must have slumbered, for nowhere could 

 I see the fish I thought I'd caught. 'Morning dreams 

 come true' is a very old saying in my county, and, 

 as if in confinnation of this faith, my rod bent down 

 its point, and there came a Httle flutter somewhere 

 near my chest as I hastened to see the cause. *0h ! 

 Gi2.t the flies, and may slim^y eels that knot one's Hnes 



