BROWN WATERS 



to lure to the fly forty feet away was 

 nuzzling my thumb in the friendliest 

 manner. If the hand had been slipped 

 quietly back to the gill he could have 

 been gripped and lifted out by one will- 

 ing to abuse his confidence so shabbily, 

 but, at so surprising a sight, the arm was 

 raised and the fish sank. I go some way 

 towards proving the truth of the story 

 by refusing to round it to the perfection 

 of which it is obviously capable. 



I remember casting long over a salmon 

 that lay in four feet of water, and either 

 was asleep or of a very churlish disposi- 

 tion, for he did not show the civility of 

 the slightest acknowledgment. Tired 

 of changing the fly, I waded out with 

 the half -formed idea of kicking him, 

 and got far enough for the purpose, but 

 found that it would be unwise to attempt 

 this when standing nearly waist deep in 

 a stiff current. As the fly dragged in 

 from a farther cast he took it, almost 

 between my legs, and a very pretty 

 37 



