128 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



in town-meeting just over the line and wink de- 

 risively at the irritated fisherman. But, on the 

 whole, we sought to obey the law; not alone from 

 respect for the law, mingled with fear of the game- 

 warden, but, as well, because the best fishing was 

 below the post. Here was a half-mile of water 

 frequented by many noble trout. We will say 

 nothing of the many ordinary trout taken from 

 this stretch of stream, but the story of the fisher- 

 man's experience with one wary old grandpa of 

 the Salvelinus Fontinalis family must be told. 



He lived in a deep pool bordered by rushes, 

 where a sunken tree-top afforded an excellent hid- 

 ing-place. Many smaller trout had been lured 

 from this retreat before the patriarch gave any 

 sign of his presence. One day a huge swirl and a 

 heavy tug set the angler's nerves to tingling; but 

 the line came back limp, and the disappointed dis- 

 ciple of the immortal Izaak went to the house to 

 tell of the four-pound trout that he had hooked 

 and lost. A week passed, during which time the 

 hopeful fisherman whipped every inch of that water 

 many times, taking not a few, but hearing nothing 

 from the veteran for whom he longed. Then, 

 moved by hunger or contempt, or both, the old 

 fellow snapped at a " Montreal," and the battle 

 was on. When victory for the fisherman seemed 

 certain and the landing net was almost under the 

 tired fish, he gave a mighty surge and was gone. 

 This time he weighed a plump five pounds on the 



