MEMORIES OF MAHSEER 



rafts ashore. This, then, was the much- vaunted Muchee 

 Bawan, a great deep pool alive with swirl and eddy and froth- 

 ing foam, a cauldron of troubled waters immediately beneath 

 the six-foot cascade, slackening to a dark and suggestive 

 stillness lower down. Truly a sight for a fisherman's eyes, 

 eerie and fascinating in its loneliness, shaken with the re- 

 sounding roar of tumbling waters. 



First ready, thanks to my jointless rod, I threw in a spoon. 

 Next moment it was seized, and the scream of the reel so upset 

 my companion that he at once paid the invariable penalty of 

 more haste, less speed. But he also was ready at last and into 

 a fish before I had landed mine. So the game went on, fast 

 and furious, for a full hour, after which the fish began to get 

 shy, and no wonder ! We had landed quite 40 lb. apiece 

 from the same water, each catch being represented by about 

 half a dozen comely fish. It was excellent fun, even though 

 the style of fishing was unorthodox, with none of the usual 

 practice of spinning, but simply casting from the lower end 

 of the pool among a maze of eddies. Nor was there any need 

 for concealment. But what of that ? We had the fish, and 

 Muchee Bawan had not belied its fame. 



Needless to say, the famous pool did not always respond 

 to our advances. On one memorable occasion, indeed, we 

 failed to stir a fish either in the pool itself or in all the stretch 

 of lovely water below it, which we always regarded as the 

 cream of the fishing, though we worked hard and honestly 

 all the three days of our leave. There was no accounting for 

 this — there rarely is in fishing ! The water seemed just right, 



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