SALMON FISHING IN LABRADOR. 165 



making it fly in spray, like the splash of a heavy 

 stone. I had beheld enough to satisfy the most fasti- 

 dious, and with hurried steps I retraced my way, brim- 

 ful with what I had seen, and anxious to convey 

 the important information to my kind and worthy 

 acquaintance, the captain. 



That evening we discussed our plans, MacGregor 

 being in excellent spirits, having found that the ship's 

 leak could easily be stopped, and that the injury was 

 far from serious. As he was his own employer, he 

 thought he would indulge in a little recreation, and 

 set his men to painting, sail-making, and all those 

 minor et ceteras so constantly wanted on board ship, 

 while we in company flogged the river, or other- 

 wise enjoyed ourselves. That night we sat up later 

 than usual, 'and fishing excursions for years gone 

 by were discussed, tales told of the first blood we 

 had drawn, of the largest fish we had captured, 

 and where they had succumbed to our prowess. Old, 

 musty, moth-eaten fly-hooks and feathers, that appeared 

 as if they had not not seen the light of day for years, 

 were produced from his numerous lockers, and as they 

 were examined, and various pages turned over, nume- 

 rous were the anecdotes narrated in connection with 

 each. So the evening sped along, and chancing to 

 refer to the sea- trout, he seized upon the subject as on 



