SALMON FISHING IN LABRADOR. 175 



I rose, which. I felt convinced was a formidable one, 

 inducing me to this course. My leader had now got 

 straightened, from the action of the water, and the 

 strain it had so lately successfully withstood. To get 

 my line clear away to the requisite length, I threw across 

 the surging portion of the stream and dipped my tip, 

 to prevent any unnecessary delay when I reached my 

 friend's ambush ; a couple of casts brought me to the 

 spot, and with careful, steady hand and measured throw 

 I placed my fly, straight as a bee line,* a few yards 

 above where my prey was supposed to be lodged ; and 

 with that regular motion that resembles the passage of 

 a shrimp through the water, I brought the bright, 

 fascinating deception towards me, the current at the 

 same time carrying it downwards. Description, parti- 

 cularly if you enter into detail, is always longer than 

 action. My handsome imitation of what ? for a 

 similar living fly I never saw was a foot or two 

 above the desired eddy, when a splash, a flourish of 

 a broad, dark tail, answered by my quick, nervous hand 

 giving an electric strike, fastened me to a splendid fish. 

 As man and animals choose different methods of assault 

 or defence, so this salmon chose a different course to 

 free himself. The hook had scarcely been in him, 



* A common Americanism, originating from loaded bees always 

 flying straight to their home. 



