66 WANDERINGS AND MEMORIES 



as he had no means of doing so himself. Changing 

 beats, I went down the river, accompanied by 

 Thorgrimmer, a pony and a sack, and fished for 

 three hours on a boiling flat just above a beautiful 

 waterfall and near to a lake from which the river 

 debouched. There were more trout here than at 

 the upper station, and I fished hard and had some 

 grand sport. It was necessary during this time to 

 halter the pony, both hind- and fore-legs, to prevent 

 his running away, and after two hours Thorgrimmer 

 left me, saying he refused to be eaten alive. This 

 fishing-place was only about 110 yards long, and 

 going over it twice I secured seventeen trout, one 

 of which, if he had been in better condition, would 

 certainly have touched eight pounds. Geoff got 

 five on his beat. Here is a photo of this morning's 

 sport taken by my brother, which, although not very 

 clear, shows the size of the fish. 



Down the river were many Harlequin Drakes in 

 parties of from three to twelve. They are amongst 

 the most lovely birds of the duck tribe, and were very 

 tame, allowing the intruder to approach within a 

 few yards. It was curious to see how they loved 

 the roughest places in the rivers. Apparently 

 no rapid was too swift or waterfall too tumultuous 

 for them. In one eddy, where it was barely possible 

 for anything to live, a party of cock Harlequins 

 were swimming about or perching on a stone 

 amidst the boiling waters. Places that other ducks 

 would shun they seem to revel in, and sometimes, 

 to our astonishment, they stayed for hours in 

 apparently untenable situations. In flight, too, 

 the Harlequins are somewhat extraordinary. They 

 never by any chance cut off corners of land in 



