Salmon Fishing. 179 



with the same fish he had hooked three or four 

 hours before. So exhausted did he look, 

 having lost his mid-day dinner, that I rushed 

 back to my abode hard-by, and brought down 

 some sherry and bread and cheese. Confident 

 in his estimate of the enormous size of the 

 fish, not a moment would he allow his attendant 

 or me to relieve him of his rod, for fear of 

 mistakes ; and it was only by fits and starts I 

 managed to give him a sip of sherry, and a bit 

 of the solids. I waited looking on in wonder 

 for at least half-an-hour ; and though I longed 

 to take his rod, and put his tackle to the proof 

 by double its present strain, I did not venture 

 the proposal to such a master of the art. 



Again was I constrained to take my departure 

 thence, sick to death of watching the same 

 game played over and over again ; the salmon 

 quietly sailing down to the lowest limit of the 

 pool, and then as quietly wending his way back. 



Between five and six o'clock I drew near 

 again to the scene of the late fight (as I 



