220 BRITISH FRESH-WATER FISHES 



two rods had been at work morning and afternoon without 

 landing a fish, the water being still too heavy. My hostess 

 asked whether I would have some tea, or fish the pool 

 next the lodge, which had been well flogged that day. 

 Now in Norway Sunday begins at 6 p.m. on our Saturday, 

 so there was not time for both. Without a moment's 

 hesitation I declared for fishing. It was a quarter-past 

 five by the time I got afloat ; at half-past five I struck 

 a fish, and landed him just in time to save breaking the 

 Sabbath — 2 1 lb. 



Of course it is probable that this fish had newly arrived 

 in the pool, and took the fly at the first ofl^^r ; but here 

 follows an example where there was no question of fish 

 running, for the water had run very low. It was in the 

 Luce, a small river in the west of Scotland, and on the last 

 day of the season. The sun was bright ; there were but 

 two or three places where there was a faint chance. I had 

 tried them all but the last, and any lingering idea I had of 

 success there was dissipated as I approached the pool by 

 the flash of another angler's rod in the sunlight at the very 

 place. I sat down and prepared to take down my tackle ; 

 but I was young in those days, and hope dies hard on the 

 bright side of thirty. I saw my rival finish the pool and 

 walk away. 



" Come ! " methought, " it is the last chance of the 

 season. It is sometimes the rank outsider that pulls ofi^ the 

 big event." 



Well, the event weighed just 22 lb. avoirdupois, and 

 I pulled it off^ — or rather, pulled it in — the handsomest 

 salmon I ever saw so late in the season, except in the 

 Tweed. 



Probably the most notable performance by a party of 

 salmon-anglers, at least in regard to the number of fish killed, 

 was that of three gentlemen — Mr. George Probyn, Mr. A. M. 

 Naylor, and Mr. H. L. Hansard — in the Grimersta River, in 



