A Rainbow in the Sierra Madre 9J 



Into this mirror of delights I cast, dropping a fly di- 

 rectly at the foot of a white rock, with no response. 

 Again I tried, then, failing to secure a rise, I climbed 

 above and crept through the verdure, pushing aside big 

 bunches of fern, to the edge and looked in. 



The water was a splendid emerald green, and at 

 the bottom I made out several trout gently fanning 

 the current. The next fly bore a worm, but not a 

 fish moved. I tried all the flies I had, and finally 

 in desperation caught a tree-toad from the rocks and 

 cast. 



This was the lure of lures. A great trout came 

 partly out of water, like a flash of light, and then some- 

 thing went bounding into the air, shooting over the 

 edge of the basin down the stream to the next pool. 

 It is always the largest fish that escapes, and I have 

 been told trout have been taken in this stream that 

 weighed fourteen pounds. I think I saw one, for a 

 fleeting moment, against the green brakes ; but it is 

 needless to harass the memory. 



If one had the space and inclination to chronicle the 

 various tales of the rainbow trout, its leaps and plays, a 

 small volume could be made on this fascinating theme 

 alone. A friend told me that in casting with three flies 

 two fishes saw them coming, met them a foot or two in 

 the air and were caught after a splendid play. 



Late in the afternoon I came to a deep pool of the 

 arroyo abounding in trout of small size, and might have 

 filled my creel, but I climbed the cafton side, made the 



