46 THE WET-FLY 



erman whisks his line through the air, 

 the rod being handled as deftly as if it 

 wereacedarpencil,andtheMarchBrown 

 is sucked under the instant it alights up- 

 on the dark, still corner of the pool. Al- 

 most simultaneously there is another 

 tug. The Red Spinner, too, has found 

 a victim. The two fish plunge into the 

 deep water under the shelving rocks, 

 and struggle out again into the galloping 

 current. They fight in the heavy water 

 of mid-stream, and tug, one this way and 

 one that, with a power that is remark- 

 able for such small creatures. Now they 

 make down-stream together, and the 

 little rod is tried to its utmost limit ; but 

 again they break away in different direc- 

 tions, and dive among the rocks that 

 are scattered about the central channel. 

 Should the line scrape against one of the 

 stones, or slacken an instant, one or both 

 fish will assuredly be lost ; but, with a 

 momentary feeling of relief, the reel 



