60 SPORT ON THE SALMON RIVERS 



clumsy action will entirely destroy his chances, until a fresh fish 

 slips into the pool, which is continually happening. This method 

 of casting calls for a very stiff rod. The work has to be done with 

 the tip. One veteran sportsman who fishes this pool has fortified 

 his rod with a narrow double strip of steel rod running from tip to 

 butt. The salmon meaning to rise will separate himself from his 

 companions, and not until the fly is at the exact distance which 

 pleases his lordship will he deign to make his plunge after it. The 

 ' old soldiers ' seem to know the deception, and occasionally turn 

 on the side and eye the feathery cheat in a sidelong mocking way 

 that is very provoking. The only fish hooked are those that have 

 newly arrived in the pool. If the throw prove successful, the 

 moment that the fly touches, like an arrow shot from the bow, a 

 torpedo-like shape darts diagonally toward it, and floundering for 

 one moment on the surface, disappears below. The other fish 

 appear to eye the hooked one with amazement, but hardly with 

 alarm. They evidently fail to take in the situation, and draw aside 

 lazily when he comes among them, as if to implore sympathy and 

 aid. Seeing that there is no relief here for him, the fish usually 

 darts down stream, and the Indians bringing up the canoe, the 

 fisherman steps in and gaffs his prey a few hundred yards down the 

 river on a sloping, gravelly beach that seems to be provided for the 

 express purpose. 



One can here see a procession of salmon passing into the gorge 

 and back again from the broad lake-like basin below twice each day. 

 It is easy to believe the tales of canoe loads of salmon speared 

 here in the olden time by the Micmac Indians when game wardens 

 were a thing unknown. What more tempting spot for ' burning ' 

 could the desperately wicked heart of the poacher desire ! 



After vainly essaying to scale the falls, the fish slink back into 

 the shaded waters of the canon. Salmon are unable to surmount 

 a fall upwards of eight feet, and even in effecting this much depends 

 on the perpendicular character of the fall and the depth of water 

 at its foot. The deeper it is the higher they can leap. Highly 

 amusing is the ancient myth that the salmon takes his tail in his 

 mouth : 



And bending like a bow, 



That's to full compass drawn ; 



Aloft himself doth throw, 



Still yerking, never leaves 



Until himself he fling 



Above the opposing stream. 



Next to the actual play of a lusty fish on the rod, perhaps the most 

 delectable amusement of your genuine admirer of Salmo salar is 



