FISHING AT HOME AND ABROAD 

 a cloudless sky. "Norwegian weather," methought ; *'we must adopt 



Norwegian hours of angling "; and I proposed to S that we should 



go out next morning before the sun should rise above the brow of Lamar - 

 kan. The idea did not commend itself to him, so next morning I left him 

 abed and sallied out before 6 a.m. The conditions were not promising; 

 the ground was white with hoar-frost, and my fingers were so cold I 

 could hardly fasten a Black Ranger to the cast. Nevertheless, I had not 

 made half-a-dozen casts in the Borgan Burnfoot, before the Ranger 

 was fixed in a fish. Eight pounds, a lovely little model, fresh from the 

 tide. Another of like weight and shape came to the gaff among the rocks 

 of Rough Isle, and, thinking that I had well earned some hot coffee and 

 eggs and bacon, I turned towards home. The way led past a rocky pool ol 

 most alluring aspect, the very place for a springer to rest, yet I had 

 never fished it nor heard of anybody else doing so, by reason that it was 

 well-nigh inaccessible. A precipice on the near bank left but a very nar- 

 row margin between its foot and the river, that margin being thickly 

 clothed with tall alders. Howbeit, I was glad to lay down the bag with the 

 two fish, and to rest awhile, and while I rested the spirit moved me to 

 get a fly over that water somehow. Clambering and slithering down 

 the cliff, I poked the rod out between two alders and, casting being out of 

 the question, allowed the current to take the line down as it was paid out. 

 The stream was rough and rapid, chafing among rocks; nevertheless I 

 caught sight of a dark, angular object showing for a moment in the 

 vicinity of the fly. It was the back fin of a salmon, and I was fast in him. 

 But how to deal with him ! I could not raise the rod for the branches 

 overhead : I could but turn it up stream and allow the fish to run about 

 as he pleased. Had he chosen to run up above me, the game was up, for 

 that would make it impossible to keep the line taut. Well, he did not so 

 choose; he disported himself in the most obliging fashion below me, 

 where the stream broadened into the semblance of a pool. In fifteen 

 minutes or so he showed signs of weariness, yet it was evident that I could 

 not land him where I stood. The opposite bank was a waste of rocks; 

 if I were only over there I could end the business pretty soon, but between 

 me and these rocks was a rushing torrent of unknown depth. 



Help was out of the reckoning. It was Saturday and here, in the heart 

 of the hills, I might stay under shadow of that cliff till Monday without a 



soul passing that way, unless it occurred to S to send out a search 



party. At last I decided to risk the crossing. Luckily I had no waders 

 36 



