86 WHEN WATERS 



dry shelving rock some distance beyond 

 the fish. After slowly drawing it into 

 the water I let it drift in the direction of 

 my quarry. No sooner had he seen it 

 than he made a vigorous dash towards 

 it, and in an instant was hooked and 

 fighting for liberty. The reel buzzed 

 and the lissom rod bent as he rushed to- 

 wards the head of the pool. He leaped 

 out of the water, darted from bank to 

 bank, plunged into the depths, and once 

 wriggled into the shallows. Like a terrier 

 worrying a rat, he savagely shook the 

 tackle, making rod and line shiver, then, 

 after a moment's pause, made a desperate 

 effort to run down-stream. That I had 

 to prevent at all costs, for there would 

 be no possibility of following him, and 

 the tackle would assuredly break in the 

 rapids below, and 1 had no landing-net. 

 My only chance was to cross over and 

 stand in the shallowest part, where there 

 would be more room for action, and 



