AN ADVENTURE. 349 



In taking my last throw, I was so near the broken 

 water that my trail-fly was without doubt in it, when, 

 without seeing a fish, I felt a smart pluck at my line. 

 On elevating the top of my rod, I found that a small 

 chub had taken my hook. Reeling up to get rid of 

 the incumbrance, and fetching him to the surface, what 

 was my surprise to see an immense trout dash at the 

 unfortunate captive, and in the twinkling of an eye, 

 I had my reel going at telegraph speed. Here was an 

 adventure truly, but one out of which I could scarcely 

 expect success. Running out something like fifteen 

 yards, the interloper became stationary, and well I 

 knew he had returned to his sanctum, probably to 

 pouch the bait at pleasure. With but a slight strain 

 upon my rod, I waited on the will of his mightiness, 

 hoping it would not be long ere his royal pleasure 

 would dictate swallowing the booty. Ten minutes, at 

 least, I remained in statu quo, when, supposing due 

 courtesy had been extended, I took a slight pull just 

 by way of reminder. Alas, the chub came way, and, 

 being now dead, combined with the rapidity of the 

 water, trailed upon the surface. I was not disappointed 

 the result was but probable. Commencing to reel 

 up to divest my hook of the mangled carcas, I had not 

 more than taken a few feet in when, mirabile dictu, the 

 same episode was enacted, and the unfortunate dis- 

 figured remains of the shiner were borne off, apparently 

 to the same location. Patiently now I determined to 

 rest, hoping against chance that, in sportive mood, 

 while playing with his intended dejeuner, his highness 

 would get the point of the insidious hook attached to 

 his royal person. What time elapsed I know not, but 

 my necessary inertness and the disagreeableness of my 



