THE HALCYON IX CANADA 205 



eprang from the buckhoard tliat afternoon and sa\^ 

 the strange river rusliing by. I would have given 

 something if my tackle had been rigged so that I 

 could have tried on the instant the temper of the 

 trout that had just broken the surface within easy 

 reach of the shore. But I had anticipated this mo- 

 ment coming along, and had surreptitiously undone 

 my rod-case and got my reel out of my bag, and 

 was therefore a few moments ahead of my compan- 

 ion in making the first cast. The trout rose readily, 

 and almost too soon we had more than enough for 

 dinner, though no "rod-smashers" had been seen or 

 felt. Our experience the next morning, and during 

 the day and the next morning, in the lake, in the 

 rapids, in the pools, was about the same: there was 

 a surfeit of trout eight or ten inches long, though 

 we rarely kept any under ten, but the big fish were 

 lazy and would not rise; they were in the deepest 

 water and did not like to get up. 



The third day, in the afternoon, we had our first 

 and only thorough sensation in the shape of a big 

 trout. It came none too soon. The interest had 

 begun to flag. But one big fish a week will do. It 

 is a pinnacle of delight in the angler's experience 

 that he may well be three days in working up to, 

 and, once reached, it is three days down to the old 

 humdrum level again. At least it is with me. It 

 was a dull, rainy day; the fog rested low u{)on tlie 

 mountains, and the time hung heavily ui)on our 

 hands. About three o'clock the rain slackened and 

 Wd emerged from our den, Joe going to look after 



