IN A FISHING COUNTRY 



ious, shadowed and profound, it seemed fit 

 harbourage for a bunyip strayed far from 

 its native pool. The stream where the elder 

 Thomas saw his vision flowed in at our feet, 

 but no back fins were above the surface, nor 

 was there movement anywhere till the 

 ripple of the first canoe launched from that 

 shore broke the reflections. 



Wind apart, a better evening could not 

 have been chosen for a test; warm it was, 

 and overcast, with little flaws now and then 

 ruffling the surface. A few may-flies were 

 upon the water, but only one fish was 

 noticed feeding. Where the brook leaves 

 the lake three or four small trout made cur- 

 iously timid feints at the fly. After an hour 

 or more of casting over every nook and 

 corner, a two-pounder banged up in the 

 middle of the lake with upsetting sudden- 

 ness — a powerful fish, well shaped and nour- 

 ished, and led most reluctantly to the net. 

 A mild presumption as to cannibalism is 

 raised by the fact that he took a Parma- 

 cheene Belle. Another long bout of essay- 

 ing lures and changing flies, and a second 

 trout of at least equal size rose at the same 

 spot, but did not touch the fly. For above 

 three hours, till the sky would barely light 

 us home, we used all our poor arts on the 

 166 



