1 62 FLY-FISHING IN MAINE LAKES. 



of my friends who were quite surprised that they 

 should arrive at such conclusions. 



Last year while "on the stream," a friend of 

 many years, an ardent fisherman, who had for 

 nearly twenty seasons made the Rangeley Lakes his 

 camping-ground, dropped down upon us quite 

 unexpectedly. He had heard a good deal of land- 

 locked salmon and their gamesome qualities. Be- 

 fore he had been three days among us, he was the 

 most enthusiastic individual I ever saw ; early and 

 late he was " up and at 'em." 



Poor Gabrielle, his guide, had no rest for the sole 

 of his foot, or the muscles of his arm ; and it was 

 not much wonder that the cry of, " Good by, 

 Umbagog," became a byword in camp. 



And so with my good friend, and fellow-fisher- 

 man, Walter B. McAtee of Baltimore, whose ac- 

 quaintance I made at the stream, and who I know 

 will pardon me for putting him in print. 



It was one of those happy accidents, as they are 

 called, which led him into the regions of the 

 salmon, and away from his accustomed haunts, the 

 Adirondacks. 



And now, should you ask him which fishing he 

 prefers, he would say, 



" I tell you it's no use talking : it just lays over 

 any fishing I know of, and I don't want any better." 



