37 2 Recreations of a Sportsman 



the changes between day and night, morning 

 and midday and afternoon have been the inspira- 

 tion of poets and artists, and as every real an- 

 gler is a poet, and has the artistic sense, there 

 is enjoyment in a lot of things aside from mere 

 angling, which is a blessing, as trout do not 

 always bite in the very best of places. 



In this frame of mind an angler stood one 

 day on a ridge and looked down into Tahoe, the 

 land of mighty trout. He had come over 

 the trail and through the mountains, and the 

 beauties of it all were flashed upon him sud- 

 denly, the white mountains, the rich roseate 

 tint of the setting sun, the deep purple hue in 

 the shadows. It was good to look upon, and 

 the angler walked down and pitched his tent 

 in one of the many bays found along the shores 

 of the great lake. Early the next morning he 

 pushed out from shore with a good boatman, on 

 the trail of the silver trout. There were rocky 

 points, abrupt cliffs, little bays, and shoals, and 

 always the mountains rising on the sky line. 

 Along the rocky shores the man rowed, the an- 

 gler trolling slowly. Then the unexpected hap- 

 pened: the rod bent, the silver reel sounded a 

 shrill alarm, and on the surface rolled a big 

 something. 



" Too big to jump, by the saints ! " whispered 

 the boatman, holding the little craft. 



The angler held a firm line, giving no slack, 



