1 6 The Mahseer. CHAP. n. 



of the fish fouling it round a rock and cutting you. So try and keep 

 well over him till he is beaten. 



Also keep a little below him if you can, so that he shall have to 

 fight the force of the stream as well as fight your pull. This every 

 salmon fisher does at once. And the stronger the stream the stronger 

 the reason for your being below your fish. I know that some also add 

 the argument that a fish pulled down stream is quickly drowned, be- 

 cause in that position he cannot so easily eject through his gills the 

 water which he has inhaled. But my humble opinion is that he will 

 struggle to the last against being pulled downwards, and that when he 

 submits to it he is already a beaten fish, and you need waste no more 

 time on him, but get him ashore. 



I have said keep below your fish if you can, still I do not believe in 

 running down the bank. I think it is resorted to much too readily, the 

 result being that the command over the line is more than half lost the 

 while, and not nearly enough steady pressure is maintained. If it must 

 be resorted to, follow the fish only at such a pace as leaves you still full 

 master of the rod and the pressure, and do not move any faster till close 

 on the last extremity. To endeavour to race your fish on a practically 

 loose line is equivalent to racing an express train. 



When the fish is tired you feel each struggle as you feel the stride in 

 a tired-out horse. Every beat of the tail is telegraphed up the line. 

 Before the fish was tired you seemed to have on a lively tree, an active 

 oak, on which you could make no manner of impression. When the 

 throbbing comes he is a beaten fish, and will soon be your own. 



By the time which passes before this throbbing comes you may in 

 some measure estimate the size of the yet unseen fish. In the first few 

 moments of the mighty rush you cannot tell a ten-pound fish from a 

 fifty-pounder, and even a five-pound fish will sometimes beguile you 

 for a short space into the fond hope, not unmixed with a spice of fear, 

 that you have got hold of the biggest Mahseer in the river, especially if 

 he bolts down stream, and it is down stream that they generally make 

 their first rush. Some say they always bolt down stream first, but that 

 is not my experience, and I am inclined to think that those who say it 

 quote unconsciously from the memory of supreme moments deeply 

 impressed, while less exciting runs, not accompanied by the trying 

 catastrophe of a break, have not unnaturally faded from the memory. 

 It is a trick that memory plays us. And I can certainly recall many a 



