TROUT-FISHING IN SWEDISH LAPLAND. 57 



five largest, not forgetting to cut the heads off and 

 take out the intestines. Two ptarmigan were treated 

 in a similar fashion, so as to be ready for breakfast. 

 After a fresh search I at length succeeded in discover- 

 ing some barley bread, so that on the whole I enjoyed 

 a tolerably good dinner, and after lighting a pipe I 

 again explored all the cupboards and various shelves in 

 the kitchen, but could only find some cold porridge. 

 Then I went to bed that is, lay on some sheepskins, 

 feeling like Alexander Selkirk on his desert island, and 

 so passed the night. Next day I went to catch more 

 trout in the same stream, but on the way, thinking 

 they might take in the lake, though there was not 

 a breath of wind and the sky perfectly cloudless, 

 I let out twenty yards of line with a couple of flies, 

 laying the rod on a seat in front, while I rowed 

 slowly along near the shore, suspecting that nothing 

 was to be got over deep water. Next moment the 

 rod flew off the seat, for a big fish was " on." 

 Having no landing net, I was obliged to row ashore 

 with one hand, holding the rod in the other, and 

 in five minutes had manoeuvred a fine fish on to a 

 sloping stone, and thence into the boat, scaling just 

 two pounds by my weighing machine. Two more of 

 a pound and a quarter each were got before I reached 

 the stream, where about twenty, large and small, 

 yielded themselves up to the allurements of a brown 

 and grey palmer. 



After returning to the house, I saw five ducks 

 feeding within shot of the shore, diving for the weed 



