NORWAY AND ITS SEA TROUT 219 



furiously under the cliff at right angles. It was toler- 

 ably certain disaster to one party if ever a fish got so 

 far as that. To be forewarned was, however, to be 

 forearmed, and, knowing the dangers of the position, 

 we always examined our cast beforehand, so that, in 

 case of the tug of war, defeat should not be caused by 

 defective gut. It was evident from the very beginning 

 that I was now at issue with a heavy fish of some kind. 

 There was that short steady run deep in the water 

 which we all like ; no foolish pirouetting at the end 

 of the line on the top of the water here. The rod was 

 arched to its utmost ; everything was splendidly taut. 

 It was one of those combats when the fisherman feels 

 that he may, when challenged, plant his feet wide 

 apart and lean bodily against what he is holding. 



After the preliminary canter the fish made a gallant 

 rush straight down, shot like an arrow past the end 

 of the island, and, hesitating an instant, betrayed a 

 desire to sheer into the heart of the rapid. Kept out 

 of this by a firm hand, he sped across to the other 

 side, then made another attempt to get down to the 

 narrows. For just about a minute it was neck or 

 nothing between us, but I had made up my mind that, 

 whether he broke me or not, go a yard farther towards 

 danger he should not. He might have known what 

 was my fell purpose, for, after doggedly holding his 

 own while I might count ten, he came up, literally 

 inch by inch, in response to the cautious turn of the 

 winch handle. It is the acme of sport to have a fine 

 fish on your winch, as it were, trying his best to increase 

 distance, fighting right and left incessantly, and yet 

 compelled to advance against his will in the teeth of a 

 powerful glacier-fed stream. There was a prolongation 

 of this exquisite excitement. Sometimes the fish would 

 be winched up to within thirty yards of line, and then 



