SALMON AND TROUT MEMORIES 



It must be the uncertainty of fishing, and particularly of 

 salmon-fishing, that constitutes its chief attraction. We cannot 

 see into another element, or know what is going on beneath 

 the surface of these broad, rippling, shining salmon-pools, 

 beyond what we learn from such fish as occasionally show. But 

 then they do not always show, though they may be there in 

 plenty, newly arrived, perhaps, in their migration from the 

 sea. Very often, too, they are here to-day and gone to-morrow, 

 and so we never really know what is going to happen. The 

 very next cast may hook the monster of our dreams. 



On this Orkla beat, which, long years ago, we fished for 

 several seasons, there was a favourite pool known as the " Long 

 Pool," where schools of salmon rested for a few days before 

 ascending some stiff rapids just above. One season this pool 

 had been, for some unknown reason, fishing very badly. Then 

 arrived a day when my turn came to fish it, and I proceeded 

 perfunctorily to do so. It had not yielded a fish, or even a 

 rise, for a week or more. My companion, whom I thought 

 more favoured, was fishing the higher beat above the rapids. 

 At the third cast, at the head of the pool, I was into a good fish 

 and killed him. For the next hour or more I was continually 

 hooking and playing fish, and presently my companion from 

 above appeared on the scene, with an empty bag, to find me 

 contemplating a pile of seven fresh-run salmon newly ex- 

 tracted from the Long Pool. I had been fortunate enough to 

 meet a school of fish just arrived and in taking humour. 



Down this same Orkla River in those days there existed an 

 extensive lumber trade. Logs of pine, cut from the forest 



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