24 WITH A NINE-FOOT 



foot. The rushing water poured down 

 the narrow channel between my ex- 

 tended legs, while my feet were firmly 

 planted on a stone on either side. A 

 trout weighing about half a pound rose 

 to the Palmer in a leisurely way at the 

 head of the pool, and a short, heavy pull 

 told me he was hooked. Down he went 

 to the bottom, and then up again to the 

 surface. He broke across this way and 

 then that, until apparently satisfied that 

 there was only one way of escape, and, 

 to my astonishment, he swam straight 

 towards me. He positively refused to 

 be headed back, and as he came nearer 

 and nearer the faster I had to reel up. 

 Suddenly he made a dash and went down 

 the rapid between my legs like a meteor. 

 The supple rod yielded, the reel whirred 

 as the line flew out, but I was power- 

 less. With my back to the fish, the line 

 between my legs, a none too firm foot- 

 hold, and an uncomfortable feeling that 



