THE FISHING-EAGLE. 39 



brated, and every morning sees grouped around it 

 the sick, the idle, and the tourist. 



One morning in July, 1848, I found myself here 

 chatting with my friend Captain Mayne Reid, the 

 author of many charming works on sporting sub- 

 jects, some of which I have had great pleasure in 

 rendering into French. We were talking about 

 hunting, fishing, distant excursions in the vast 

 forests of the West and across the uncultivated 

 steppes of the American Sahara, until the morn- 

 ing seemed as short to us as it did to the idlers of 

 Saratoga. 



" Well,^' said Captain Mayne Reid, " as you are 

 so keen, I must show you one evening a bit of sport 

 fit for a king." 



" Many thanks, my dear Captain. And what 

 may that be?'^ 



" Salmon fishing." 



"By all means. And where is it to be? " 



" In Saratoga Lake.^' 



" Salmon in a lake ! " I replied with astonish- 

 ment. " I thought that the king of fishes was 

 never at home except in large streams and rivers ? " 



" You are rigUt ; but the Lake Saratoga is a 

 smaller edition of that which traverses the Rhine 

 at Geneva ; with this difi'erence, that it is one of tlie 

 most picturesque localities in New York State. 

 However, we are only five miles from this splendid 

 sheet of water, and if nothing prevents you from 



