TRAVELS IN THE EIGHTIES. 



elderly native peasant almost as tall and attenuated 

 as the long rod he was bearing, accompanied by three 

 women, carrying fishing rods and a bag of worms, 

 which explained the unwillingness of the trout in rising 

 to the fly. He informed us that for twenty years he 

 had fished this stream, accompanying the remark with 

 a liberal pinch of snuff from a large horn box. Upon 

 this we said that after trying the next small pool we 

 should return to Sarna. Having thus overtaken and 

 passed these native anglers and being therefore enabled 

 to fish in water which they had not previously disturbed 

 with their worms and string, a trout or a grayling rose 

 to nearly every cast, until the sound of a heavy step 

 behind and the splash of a heavy line and a worm in 

 front of the flies we were manipulating informed us 

 that nothing more in the shape of sport could be 

 expected unless we could prevent this disagreeable 

 elderly peasant from scaring the fish in the remaining 

 part of the river. One might readily have judged, 

 from his facial expression, that to bid him remove 

 himself and his rod would have been the surest manner 

 of inducing him to remain just where he was, and thus 

 give us time to fish over the coveted piece ahead. 



"Gabort!" 



"Ya skall ga hvar jag vill," was the reply, as 

 plump fell the long horsehair line again in the eddy. 

 The stratagem had proved successful. 



We had now remained long enough in the rustic 

 hamlet of Sarna. 



The choice in continuing the journey lay between 



