SALMON AND TROUT MEMORIES 



he may take you, panting and breathless, a quarter of a mile 

 downstream, and over and over again put a hundred yards 

 of rushing Erne water between you and him before, if you are 

 lucky, you can kill him. Until the gaff is in his silvery side, 

 there is always, in the throws I have mentioned, and several 

 others, a good shade of odds upon the fish. To follow a 

 heavy fish down Kathleen Falls, involving a steeplechase in 

 waders over rocks, banks, and walls, and then see your gillie gaff 

 him in Jack's Flat, is an event that lingers long in the memory. 

 In days gone by, I have killed twenty-five fresh-run Erne 

 salmon in a week, and can yet recall the incidents of nearly 

 every kill. Well do I remember some years ago coming to 

 the " Garden Wall " late one July evening with two salmon 

 and three grilse in the bag. I was flushed with success, and 

 somewhat lazily inclined, but Paddy insisted on putting a 

 small Green Parson over the pool. In another hour two fresh- 

 run fish, 20 lb. each to an ounce, lay side by side on the bank, 

 and I had made no more than six casts in the pool. The first 

 was hooked at the head of the pool the third cast, played for 

 twenty thrilling minutes across and back a hundred yards of 

 rocky stream, and was gaffed. Its mate was hooked lower down 

 three casts after, played in like wild manner, and accorded a 

 similar fate. Curiously enough, as each fish was gaffed the 

 fly dropped out of its mouth. We staggered home that night 

 with four salmon and three grilse, weighing 89 lb. in all. Such 

 as these are red-letter days in one's calendar. My next best 

 day was below the bridge, when, in a gale of wind, I killed seven 

 fish weighing 82 lb., and lost four more. 



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