Trout -Fishing in the Rangeley Lakes. 



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upon his imaginary prey. A sudden splash from which the spray 

 flies in the face of the wind betrays the presence of one of these 

 mammoth trout. If he misses the fly, a second cast almost invari- 

 ably provokes the fated fish to a more eager rush. Rising through 

 the topmost curl of the wave, his side, brilliant in purple and gold, 



THE SPIRIT OF MOOSELUCMAGUNTIC. 



gleams in the sunlight for an instant. But this time he is fast, and 

 there is a thud as if a locomotive, under full headway, had been 

 hooked. With a mad rush, he strikes for the depths of the lake, but 

 the light rod yields like a thing of life. Whether the trout weigh 

 one pound or eight, the lance-wood or split bamboo is faithful to the 

 trust placed in it. With a pertinacity almost human it clings to the 

 frantic fish, steadily drawing him to the surface until, after a contest 

 which may have lasted only ten minutes or which may have been 

 prolonged through two hours, the landing-net of the skillful guide 

 deposits him in the boat. 



Apart from the risk of losing your trout because of the difficulty 

 of landing him while the boat is tossing on the waves, this fishing in 

 rough water has its perils, which add to its excitement if they do not 

 increase its pleasures. One bracing September morning, I was 

 industriously casting my fly from my boat, which was anchored three 

 or four hundred yards from the sand-spit at the mouth of Bema 

 24A 



