DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 125 



make noble efforts to gallop gaily with a rider 

 stones too heavy, and perhaps close by another 

 horse carrying just the load no more no less 

 that he was built for ; that's how you should fit 

 your rod with the line it has to throw, and that's 

 how mine is fitted. I had a cast of blue gut that 

 tapered off to the fineness of a hair. It had been 

 well soaked, and to it I had attached a fly which 

 I knew would swim erect ; yet I tried it several 

 times beyond the spot where the fish that had 

 caused my trouble had risen so boldly. I liked 

 the movements of my fly ; it was, too, as near as 

 possible to the midges that now and then came 

 down and were taken by the watchful greedy fish. 



It was a very open spot, excepting for some 

 bushes near the edge, so I crept forward with head 

 well down, slipped a gaiter, knelt upon the leather, 

 made a cast, saw a ring, gave half the time neces- 

 sary to count one, struck a click from off my reel 

 and thus commenced a fight with my beguiler. 



I let him do the fighting while I opposed, with 

 such force as was permitted by my fine line, his 

 tugs and digs to get in dangerous directions. I 

 did not hurry to get him near nor did I show 

 him the butt, as either of these manoeuvres would 

 aid him to get entangled in the bushes just beyond 

 my feet. I preferred to keep him on a steady strain 

 with the rod at such an angle as would best serve 

 to keep him in midstream until he had fought his 

 fight. Those were my plans, but the fish had 

 others, in answer to which I had to follow him 

 down until I was hidden in a bed of rushes where, 

 while struggling with difficulties, I was glad to hear 

 a voice I knew ask me what I was doing there. 



