A BOOK OF FISHING STORIES 



Whether its anger had been roused by the unavoidable jerking 

 of the rod during the swim, or whether it simply judged the 

 time had come to put an end to such fooling and get to business, 

 the grim fact remains that, within a few moments of my recover- 

 ing the rod, the fish dashed off downstream and out in the 

 middle. No check was possible, and, as the mahseer lurched 

 and struggled, borne down by the irresistible current, I got 

 one unforgettable glimpse of its proportions. I rushed madly 

 down the bank, helplessly watching the line disappear off the 

 reel until it was all out. Then came one final pull, and the fish 

 of my life was gone. 



Here, then, though it ended in dismal failure, was the 

 greatest moment in all my memories of mahseer. Yet, as has 

 been said, it was but one of many happy fishing episodes, 

 and it would be hard to say whether, if there is any compari- 

 son between the two, it really gave me more excitement than 

 that remote triumph when, as a boy, I successfully guddled 

 an enormous half-pound trout while the other boy, more mind- 

 ful of home instructions, dutifully paused to remove his boots. 

 I wonder ! 



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