THE SECRET OF THE CANAL 259 



that I performed that impossibility. With a miracu- 

 lous switch cast, of which in cold blood I should be 

 incapable (I heard the fly catch in the tree, but pulled 

 it away madly), I got the fly out across the canal ; it 

 fell just in front of the trout, and a moment later had 

 been sucked in. Then came the thrilling sensation 

 of getting the hook home well into something really 

 solid, a first sullen plunge, and afterwards a long fight 

 up and down the canal. Twice he weeded me, several 

 times the frail gut was in jeopardy ; but mercifully he 

 did nothing very violent, and at last I pulled him, 

 beaten, over the big landing-net, and lifted him trium- 

 phantly to shore, the biggest trout I have ever got on a 

 dry fly, and twenty-three and a half inches long. I 

 wish I could stop there. But the truth must be told. 

 Instead of his being the six-pounder I made sure he 

 was during the fight, the diabolically truthful scales 

 showed him to be four and a half pounds, and no more. 

 A big head and good shoulders tapered away sadly 

 towards the tail, and showed him to be both ancient 

 and cannibal. " An ugly brute," said a friend after- 

 wards. So he was, but he gave me about the most 

 exciting half-hour of my fishing life a half-hour which 

 I shall remember while I have life at all. 



