LARS 41 



and after a short struggle Lars gaffed him a 

 fish of 17 lb. The spectators crowded round ; 

 Lars threw the fish into the boat without a 

 word, and held it steady for me to step into. 

 The process was shortly repeated, this time 

 with a fish of 13 lb. Never a word said Lars, 

 and, not wishing to spoil his game, which I saw 

 by the gleam in his ancient eye he was 

 thoroughly enjoying, I held my peace. A third 

 time, almost at the first cast, I hooked a fish. 

 This one gave more trouble ; we landed on the 

 Lervik shore, but he ran down into the deep 

 water at the bottom and went so far over to 

 the other side, that we judged it quicker to 

 cross the river in the boat and kill him on the 

 Lower Bank. He weighed 18 lb. It was 

 not over yet. The tide was getting too high, 

 but it was worth trying a final cast. This 

 time a 14-pounder took the fly, and was duly 

 killed on the Lervik bank. 



It was now seven o'clock, and it had been 

 sharp work for an hour. Not a sound had Lars 

 uttered, nor had he looked at me. He threw 

 the fish as they were killed into the boat, as 

 a man might throw herrings, and he had an 

 air of being rather bored. The rustics stood 



