164 FISHING WITH THE FLY. 



river, fasten a cubic inch of sucker to his hook, ex- 

 pectorate upon it, turn around three times, and fling 

 it with a tremendous splash into the water. Whether 

 these performances were the result of Oriental supersti- 

 tion, or whether the Chinaman imitated some Ameri- 

 can example, he did not stop to consider. His long 

 unpractised hand, trembling a little now, had sent the 

 flies far out beneath the shadows of some willows. 

 Another cast was made, and then another. At the 

 fourth there was a rise, and the fish was hooked. The 

 struggle was short but spirited. Yang, abandoning his 

 primitive tackle, was ready with the landing-net, and 

 the fish was killed. As the sport continued, Jack 

 grew calmer, while Yang's excitement increased. He 

 trembled as if the ague were upon him. His stoicism 

 was laid aside. He laughed, jabbered, and Jack was 

 obliged to address him as the Chinaman had addressed 

 the Judgess. Yang begged to try the rod, and by rea- 

 son of his imitative faculties might have made good 

 use of it, but he had to content himself with the net. 

 At last the lengthening shadows deepened into twi- 

 light, and the gathering darkness put an end to the 

 sport. The great dome of Mt. Watkins, inverted in the 

 motionless water, had changed from gold to crimson, 

 and from crimson to violet ; they paid no heed until 

 the reflection faded, then, looking up, the real moun- 

 tain, circled by rising mists, seemed to float in the 

 darkening sky, and Jack, with that feeling of perfect 

 content and peace which kings can never know unless 



