80 PLEASURES OF ANGLING. 



a forty-five-pound salmon. I took my seat beside 

 him, intensely interested in the contest, and en- 

 deavored to rest his weary muscles by congratu- 

 lating him upon the grand sport he was having, 

 and expressing my admiration of the splendid way 

 in which he was handling his fish. But he shook 

 his head doubtfully, and expressed his fears of the 

 issue. "I don't like," he said, "the occasional 

 feel of my line. It seems to me that the fellow is 

 rubbing his nose against a rock, trying to chafe off 

 my leader. There it goes again ! I must get out 

 of this or I shall lose him, sure." The fight had 

 been going on now for two hours and fifteen min- 

 utes by the watch, and Mr. D. had just made his 

 first step toward the canoe, when up came the 

 broken leader, the sad memento of a lost battle ! 

 Just what he feared had happened, and what was 

 undoubtedly the largest fish that had been hooked 

 this season, "turned tail" upon his discomfited 

 captor. And there was silence for the space of a 

 minute. Fisher, gaffer and lookers-on were equally 

 speechless. If any one was tempted to blaspheme, 

 he evidently felt that " he had nothing in his vo- 

 cabulary at all adequate to the occasion," and said 

 nothing. I had always admired the complacent 

 serenity with which my poor friend had borne the 

 crosses of life, but on this occasion his serenity 

 touched the verge of the sublime. Happy man 



