224 AN OPEN CREEL 



where the fish rolled over with such dire result, and a 

 human being whose countenance is filled with blank 

 dismay, I prefer not to dwell. The loss of a salmon 

 is terrible, of the first salmon unspeakable. Absit 

 omen ! 



What it may be like to kill a round dozen of salmon 

 in one day I do not know ; the experience is not for 

 everybody. But I do know that one can enjoy oneself 

 passing well without killing any. The handling of a 

 good rod is in itself a pleasure ; the pages of one's fly- 

 book are a feast of colour for the eye ; and the river is 

 music in the ears. To the city-dweller the keen air 

 coming round the bluff of yon purple-crowned mountain 

 is elixir of life. Crag, heather, space and solitude these 

 are medicines for the ills of his mind. For his body 

 there is exercise. After the first day's fishing, during 

 which one has waded deep and flogged with all the zest 

 of a year's pent-up desire, there comes an aching which 

 is marvellously minute. Every individual joint, muscle 

 and sinew has its share, and the pleasure and pride of 

 it are intense. Some feeling of the sort must have 

 rewarded our forefathers after the tourney. And the 

 sleep that follows dinner and tobacco is the soundest 

 one is like to enjoy this side of Lethe. 



These are perforce modest times, and we go north or 

 west prepared for small things. If we get a salmon 

 each day, with perhaps one bag of three or four on 

 some great occasion, we shall return triumphant. If 

 we get but two salmon in each week, we shall not be ill 

 pleased ; if but two in the whole time, not absolutely 

 downcast. If but there is no need to anticipate evil. 

 As to redness, a fish is a fish for all that. Beautiful he 



