A FIVE-POUNDER. 91 



stern and contemptuous. At length some favourable 

 change took place in the clouds, or atmosphere, and 

 I caught sundry small trout ; and finally, in the cheek of 

 a boiler, I fairly hauled out a two-pounder. A jewel of 

 a fish he was — quite a treasure all over. After I had 

 performed the satisfactory office of bagging him, I came 

 to a part of the river which, being contracted, rushed 

 forward in a heap, rolling with great impetuosity. Here, 

 after a little flogging, I hooked a lusty fellow, strong as 

 an elephant, and swift as a thunderbolt. How I was agi- 

 tated say ye who best can tell, ye fellow tyros ! Every 

 moment did I expect my trout tackle, for such it was, to 

 part company. At length, after various runs of dubious 

 result, the caitiff began to yield ; and at the expiration of 

 about half an hour, I wooed him to the shore. What a 

 sight then struck my optics ! A fair five-pounder at the 

 least ; not fisherman's weight, mark me, but such as would 

 pass muster with the most conscientious lord mayor of 

 London during the high price of bread. Long did I gaze 

 on him, not without self-applause. All too large he was 

 for my basket ; I therefore laid the darling at full length 

 on the ground, under a birch tree, and covered over 

 the precious deposit with some wet bracken, that it 

 might not suffer from the sunbeam. 



I had not long completed this immortal achievement 

 ere I saw a native approaching, armed with a prodigious 

 fishing rod of simple construction guiltless of colour or 

 varnish. He had a belt round his waist, to which was 

 fastened a large wooden reel or pirn, and the line passed 

 from it through the rings of his rod : a sort of Wat 

 Tinlinn he was to look at. The whole affair seemed so 



