242 LINES IN PLEASANT PLACES 



and a crouching position on the low seat of the 

 miserable canoe, I was roused as by an electric shock. 

 The rod was jerked downwards almost to the water, the 

 winch flew, and the line, run out at express speed, cut 

 into my forefinger. A., facing me, saw from my ex- 

 pression that something had happened, and, with the 

 instinct of a sportsman, began to pull in his sash-cord 

 and coil it neatly out of the scene of action. 



" I have him," I said by way of assurance, and Ben 

 realised that the whirring scream of the winch was not 

 a mere private rehearsal. Growing excited he began 

 to give me directions how to behave under the circum- 

 stances, taking it for granted that the rod and line 

 would fulfil all his prophecies of disaster and failure. 

 By the backing of small line, which was now for the first 

 time being rushed off the reel, I knew that my game 

 had in the preliminary dash not stopped under eighty 

 yards, and it seemed therefore as if the great fish that 

 plunged on the surface away in the wake, and leaped 

 5 ft. or 6 ft. into the air, could have no connection 

 whatever with us. I had seen that kind of thing 

 before, however, with salmon and sea trout, and tingled 

 with joy at the evidence I presently had that the 

 tumble back into the lake had not parted me from my 

 game. Ben noticed as quickly as I did that the line 

 presently slacked, and called Heaven to witness that 

 the darned fish was off, and that he had been predicting 

 such a result all along ; the fact was the 'lunge was 

 racing in towards us. I am one of those anglers who 

 hate being pestered by advice when playing a fish, and 

 never pretend to choose my words to the interrupter. 



Moreover, Ben had continued pulling, so that, be- 

 sides the wind behind us and the weight of the fish, 

 whatever it was, against me, I had the way of the boat 

 to assist the enemy ; furthermore, he announced his 



