FISH SKETCHES AND FISH STORIES 375 



bull-like rush of one of the spotted savages of the 

 cold glacier waters. 



THE UNUSUAL SIZE OF MY BAIT 



and the swiftly plunging water were enough in 

 themselves to try a sensitive rod, and you may 

 imagine the effect of adding a big bull-trout to the 

 strain the tackle already had to bear; it made lively 

 times, and was an experience to cause the hair on 

 the nape of a tenderfoot's neck to rise with excite- 

 ment at the mere thought of it. 



An hour or so later, as our little canoe was drift- 

 ing down to where the sky-pilot could still be seen 

 thrashing the water with his frayed-out flies, Stan- 

 ley made me disengage the dead bait, remove the 

 gangs of hooks, and cast the wired fish overboard. 

 I was then directed to affix my leader with the 

 flies attached, after which the mountain man se- 

 lected a bull-trout of about two feet in length, 

 which still showed signs of life, and hooking one 

 of my flies in the lip of the captured fish, he gently 

 dropped it into the water. 



"IT WILL COME TO IN A FEW MINUTES," 



explained my guide, and it did. We were drifting 

 among the eddies near the sky-pilot when I felt my 

 fish tug at the line. Just then the dominie hailed 

 us with the inquiry, "What luck, good friends?" 



"Ah, only so so not biting well today," replied' 

 Stanley, in a discouraged tone, but with a twinkle 

 in his eyes. By this time I was beginning to have 



