THREE FISH 63 



artist would have taken that tenth fish, and that is 

 just where it comes in." Well, possibly. I am not 

 an artist. Let us get back to our fish. 



For some time I saw nothing of him. Keeping 

 deep down, he headed up straight for the fall. Stop 

 him? Not a bit of it, though I butted him all I 

 knew. Bang into the white water he ran and lay still 

 as a log beneath the foam. Indeed, he might have 

 been a log for all the response I could obtain to my 

 best efforts. I hung on and shouted for help. 



This was the village pool. At the side of it was a 

 big flour-mill employing a good many hands. Pre- 

 sently some one noticed the situation, and out came 

 the miller with offers of help. Well, we exhausted all 

 the usual devices, from jarring on the rod to throwing 

 of stones. All to no purpose. Move he would not till 

 it suited his lordly will. But at last he moved a little 

 and began boring about, and then the pull on him 

 told, and like a flash he was down the stream. Out 

 ran the line like lightning till the reel shrieked 

 again. 



I could not follow him, because trees, growing on 

 the edge of the pool, prevented me. He headed straight 

 for the lower fall, and was now close upon it. Only a 

 yard or two of line was left on the reel. Once over 



