84 AN ANGLER'S LINES. 



moment of hope and doubt, then the ring re- 

 appeared and my fly was sucked down in the 

 midst. The contest that followed, if short, was 

 marked by infinite variety. Hither and thither 

 the fish scurried, now in, now out of the water, 

 but, although he leaped and fought splendidly, 

 the trout did not seem to have any definite 

 plan of campaign like the first, and his tactics 

 never threatened danger. Still, he gave me a 

 certain amount of trouble before I was able 

 to bring him in. The trout was smaller by 

 an inch than his companion in the basket, but, 

 like him, in excellent condition. 



By this time the sun had dipped behind 

 the hills, the fall had lost its sparkle, and the 

 little pool was one of shadows. 



Before daylight deserted me altogether, I 

 was anxious to try the point where the two 

 streams joined, so, leaving the pool, I followed 

 the brook down for about a mile until I 

 reached the spot,. Here it was a policy of 

 " drift '" again, as the water, if anything, was 

 more shut in than at the place I had left, 

 and, in addition, had a high bank. 



