TROUTING ON THE NEPIGON. 235 



form to shorter and thinner proportions, it could not rob us 

 of the ecstasy of our first estimate, thank heavens! 



And the fight that followed what words may set it forth? 

 O anglers, shut your eyes, and see and hear it from behind 

 your closed lids. Call memory to your aid the memory of 

 the sternest fight you ever fought, of the swiftest torrent, of 

 the wildest pool, of that favorite rod smashed to splinters, of 

 paddle broken, of the "biggest fish that ever swam," lost or 

 won. Stop, I say, and from behind closed lids see all this, 

 and you will see what we saw under the great bridge over 

 the Nepigon on that bright June day. 



Whoever the man in the velveteen jacket might be, he was 

 of the right sort an angler of whom anglers need never be 

 ashamed; for as he fought that fish he gave us such an exhi- 

 bition of angler's fence as ranked him one of the best that 

 ever fingered reel. An eight-ounce rod against an eight- 

 pound fish, a strong, deep current, and a Nepigon canoe. 

 Grant anglers such conditions, and how many shall make a 

 winning fight? 



Twice the huge fish broke water, and twice the long train 

 cheered him to the echo. The judge was wild. Each time 

 the fish broke the surface, he fairly jumped! He leaned far 

 over the rail. He swung his hat, and when the monstrous 

 Trout broke the surface the second time, he yelled: 



"Save him, save him, and I'll nominate you for the Presi- 

 dency." 



Once the great fish for an instant burst through his oppo- 

 nent's guard. Once, I must confess, my heart sank within me, 

 as a stone sinks to the bottom of a well. When he was a 

 hundred feet from the canoe, the rod nearly tip and butt, 

 and the silk line stretched through the air like a wire, the 

 fish doubled and lanced backward like a flash. We saw his 

 wake that sharpened wedge of water which anglers dread 

 and as he went under the canoe, and, in the stillness, that 

 had come to us, we heard the line rattle on the bark, a groan 



