262 LINES IN PLEASANT PLACES 



I anchored my boat about 30 ft. from the head of the 

 outfall sluice. The fly was the B. Pond, so called 

 because it is a favourite on a lake of that name, and, 

 as you will see, it was a 2 per cent. Sproat hook. These 

 big fish have a habit of showing on the top, and I had 

 marked where it rolled. It had been in the same place 

 for quite a week, and we all knew about it, and had 

 even decided that it was a female fish, as, indeed, it 

 turned out to be. So we got to speak of her as the 

 Queen of the Pool ; and it was because I had been 

 challenged to catch her by the score of fellows who 

 had been trying for her that I went out on this par- 

 ticular day. I took boat an hour before I intended to 

 fish, and dropped quietly down, bit by bit, at intervals, 

 to the spot I had marked in my eye. It was not far 

 from the head of the sluice, and, therefore, a most 

 critical position. I had worn the B. Pond stuck in my 

 hat for days, so that it should be quite dry. I only 

 allowed myself line 2 ft. longer than my rod. After a 

 few flicks with my left hand I delivered a business cast 

 with my right, and in an instant she came up with a 

 roll, and I struck and hooked. 



" There was no need to shout. The Queen of the 

 Pool leaped two feet out of water and then made 

 straight for the sluice. This was the dilemma I had 

 feared all along, and my plan of action had been well 

 thought out beforehand. I raised and held firm my 

 rod, and let the fish and it settle the whole business on 

 a tight line. She often brought the top curving right 

 down to the water, but I never departed from my 

 plan. I kept the rod at an angle of about forty-five 

 degrees throughout, and risked all the consequences. 

 The men from the bank, of course, shouted ' Give her 

 line,' but I knew what my rod could do, and knew 

 that all the rigging was to be trusted. 



