126 A TASTE OF MAINE BIRCH. 



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 elonga- 

 tion 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 

 buttons 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 

 handsomely. 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 per- 

 haps only the need of food will ever tempt the gen- 

 uine angler into any more prosaic style of fishing; 



