OF SHOOTING AND FISHING = 231 
wet my line, I hooked a splendid trout, at the very 
grass roots, and in water only a few inches deep. 
As my rod was very light, he went off down stream 
at a tremendous rate, and then sulked. Think- 
ing he had got off, and that the fly had caught 
something at the bottom, I waded towards the place 
while reeling in, but to my surprise the line again 
ran out; however, the play was short and I soon 
had a four pounder in the net. These heavy trout 
did not give anything like the play the smaller fish 
gave in the cooler water at Flatrock, or like the 
rainbow in Silver Creek. They seldom rose, but 
struck under the water, and several times I thought 
myself fast to a snag at the bottom, when in reality 
a big trout had taken my fly. Our sport was splen- 
did, the trout varying in size greatly, from half a 
pound to four and a half pounds, and when we 
reached the conveyance which had come to meet 
us we were weighted down with fish. Before din- 
ner we wandered through the woods and saw many 
of the attractions of the place. 
A few miles further down the river, a short time 
before, a well-educated and much-travelled man 
had been fishing. Hearing a splash behind him, 
he looked around in time to see a wonderful crea- 
ture disappearing under the dark waters of a big 
deep pool. In form, this monster did not resem- 
ble anything that the name of the river might 
suggest, and besides it was seen shortly after break- 
fast, and the habits of the observer were above 
question. As it was a lonely place, the fisherman 
waded out, and hurrying back to camp, returned 
