218 CAMP FIRE REMINISCENCES 
up, and getting casts on, so being ready, we at once 
took to the water. A great spirit of rivalry pre- 
vailed, and each determined to kill a bigger basket 
than his neighbour. 
Underneath the trestle there was a ford, having 
a beautiful pool immediately below. With a royal 
- ecoachman and a professor on, I waded out and be- 
gan. Every inch of the ford was fished without 
having a rise, and then the flies were allowed to 
drift into the pool and were gently drawn across the 
edge of the stream. This was kept up until the 
stream had been fished with the same negative re- 
sult. Then the pool was tried, every part of it, 
from under its shady banks to the shallows further 
down, but without the slightest success. Leaving 
the water I walked along the bank for half a mile 
without seeing another attractive-looking cast, so 
my disappointment was great. The cloudless sky 
and perfectly clear, slow, flowing stream, at the 
bottom of which every pebble could be seen, did not 
appealto me. I felt that I had been duped by the 
others who had fished up stream, and that there 
would be no laurels for me when the official count 
took place. 
The river here meandered in graceful curves be- 
tween green banks a few feet high and perfectly 
free from brush, so I walked along for perhaps 
another half mile and then decided to try again. 
A slight current showed along one bank some dis- 
tance below, so with a very long line out, I drew 
my flies into this and instantly rose and hooked a 
trout which darted here and there and everywhere 
