A 50-POUND SALMON 243 



girth, and the span of his tail was 13 J inches, and he 

 had the biggest head I have ever seen on a salmon. 

 He was caught on a medium-sized spoon with a 17 -feet 

 Castle Connell rod. He took the lure with a tremendous 

 dash, the reel screaming as the fish went spinning down- 

 stream ; but, luckily for my nerves, he gave me a chance 

 after taking out 100 yards of line, and I was able to 

 turn him towards the bank. After trying a short run 

 up-stream, he made another dash towards the centre 

 of the river, and then another down-stream rush, until 

 he sulked in about 10 feet of running water. Pulling 

 in to land, I attempted to move him ; but for fifteen 

 minutes he lay like a rock, sulking, if ever a fish sulked, 

 and only a surge now and again told me I had a fish, 

 and not a world, on my line. I might have turned him 

 down-stream, but my Norwegian strongly advised me 

 not to do so, as danger existed but a short distance 

 below. So it was a case of wait. Meanwhile, my eyes 

 were beginning to play me tricks : the high pine-clad 

 banks commenced running up-stream at express rates 

 whenever I lifted my eyes from the rapidly running 

 river at the spot where my fish lay, and on turning 

 them on any motionless object the same curious optical 

 delusion occurred. My man, Isaac, now planted a 

 stone or two below the salmon, and after fifteen 

 minutes' sulk, he made a move towards me up-stream, 

 and then a dash across the river, we having to follow 

 in the boat for some 300 yards. He then came down 

 again and we got him into a big backwater, in which I 

 managed to keep him, and finally, after a very anxious 



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