256 THE DARYL IN MAY. 



time more than I have succeeded in bagging 

 in two hours. I believe I rise more trout, but 

 the miller is a wonderful hand at "striking," 

 and if a trout only looks at his fly it is all up 

 with that trout. The miller leaves me at the 

 cataract, and insists on pitching his fish into 

 my basket. The Daryl Niagara might be 

 about ten feet in height, and yet you would be 

 surprised at what a respectable pother and 

 noise it kicks up. Below the fall there is a 

 bubbling, gurgling pool, with flecks of creamy 

 foam twisting round and round the tremen- 

 dous inner gulf of the maelstrom, in which the 

 wreck of a bird's nest apparently, and half a 

 dozen sheaves of straw are chasing each other ; 

 there is a tiny dab chick, who disappears the 

 instant you catch sight of him. Unpack the 

 india-rubber coat you have brought with you 

 to provide for the April shower. Watch 

 how it comes. Dark nebulous islands float 

 together from different wastes in the sky. 

 Between them the intense blue is still visible ; 

 but they grow thicker and thicker, these ma- 

 jestic bergs, until the hollow of the vast cupola 

 is almost filled with them. One that seems as 



