The River of Feathers 77 



struction, and in less than one hour had hooked 

 the largest long-finned tuna seen in a decade 

 and landed it; then he returned to the shop of 

 the taxidermist, saying, " There is the fish I went 

 out to catch. You see it 's bigger than any you 

 have; mount it." 



That my extraordinary luck had any effect 

 upon my good-natured acquaintance I do not 

 say, nor do I know what he thought. He merely 

 backed away to give me room and watched me 

 play his fish, his rainbow, in his favorite place. 

 To some anglers luck is born; they call it a 

 silver spoon. Upon others it is thrust. And 

 so this big trout (for he was big, and is always 

 growing in my imagination) fell to me, and he 

 made me rush up-stream to my whistling reel 

 after a fashion that was worth a king's ransom; 

 he made so splendid a demonstration that I was 

 ashamed to look at my companion, who stood 

 there calm, but I fear inwardly raging. I have 

 read many definitions of a gentleman, but a 

 gentleman is a superhuman who can look pleas- 

 ant under the above circumstances. 



Up into the air went the trout, throwing the 

 line at me in ripples and undulations, coming 

 down on his tourmaline-tinted sides to slide 

 along the surface and drop out of sight, forcing 

 me on and on, to save the delicate line, then 

 up again, whirling himself about in a frenzy of 

 abandon. As the trout had shown himself early 



