34 AN ANGLER'S LINES. 



not of present suffering. As I stood beneath 

 the scorching rays of the sun and watched the 

 float take an erratic course across the river, 

 I smiled derisively. Pike -fishing in a temper- 

 ature of 1 1 o degrees ! It was absurd, 

 preposterous. But there was no help for it, 

 for my companion, who had killed salmon in 

 Norway and slain trout in Scotland in the most 

 approved fashion, had hitherto not essayed the 

 capture of the " tyrant," and fate and com- 

 pelling circumstances had decreed that this 

 day, of all days, should be the one for his 

 initial attempt. Moreover, a few weeks hence 

 and he would become a " fisher of men," and 

 then there would be little opportunity and still 

 less leisure for the attainment of his desire. 

 A lively hopefulness had marked his 

 every reference to the expedition; but 

 I knew the water, and had " ma doots 1 /' 

 Quantity rather than size characterised its 

 pike, in spite of the 3 Ib. limit that obtained, 

 and from bitter experience I knew that, even in 

 orthodox pike weather, three -pounders were 



