AND OTHER HUNTING ADVENTURES. 277 



up with a short turn. He darted up the stream a 

 few feet, and again turning square about started for 

 his den. I snubbed him again. This time he shot 

 down the creek, and, turning, made another dive 

 for his hiding place. Again I gave him the butt, 

 but this time he was determined to free himself, 

 and with a frantic plunge he tore the hook from his 

 mouth and disappeared in his dark retreat. 



My heart sank within me, when I realized that 

 he was gone. He was truly a monster, fully two 

 feet long, and I think would have weighed four 

 pounds or over. I reeled up and made two or three 

 more casts in the same hole. His mate, a comely- 

 looking fellow, but not nearly so large, came out 

 once and smelt of the bait but declined to take it. 

 He had evidently seen enough to convince him that 

 it was not the kind of a dinner he was looking 

 for. I fished down the creek for an hour and then 

 returned and tried the old fellow again, but he had 

 not yet forgotten his- recent set-to with me, and 

 refused to come out. I presume he is still there, 

 and will probably reign for some years to come, 

 the terror of tackle owners, unless someone gets 

 a hook firmly fastened in his jaw, and has tackle 

 sufficiently derrick-like to land him; and whoever 

 that lucky individual may be, I congratulate him in 

 advance. My tackle would have held him if I had 

 been fortunate enough to get the proper cinch on 

 him, and the only thing I have to regret in think- 

 ing of the trip, is that I was not so fortunate. 



We had enough, however, without him. We took 

 home forty-eight trout that weighed, when dressed, 

 sixty pounds, and of all the many days I have spent 



