seemed almost uncanny. After a while we got 

 close enough for the gaff, and by a quick stroke of 

 the paddle the canoe shot forward, when James, 

 sending the gaff deep into the shoulder, lifted the 

 grand old salmon into the canoe. As most of my 

 large salmon have given me some thrilling experi- 

 ences, I prefer the killing of large fish. I remem- 

 ber hooking a thirty-five-pound salmon in the tail, 

 and another of forty-two pounds in the side. Had 

 I lost these fish without seeing them, I should have 

 thought something mighty had seized the fly. The 

 one of forty-two pounds took me half a mile down 

 the river before I could land him, the fish was so 

 large, and being hooked in the side it made it im- 

 possible to bring him to the canoe without losing 

 a lot of time. So after wearing him out we pad- 

 dled toward the middle of the river and gaffed him 

 in the swift water; he was the hardest fighting 

 salmon I ever killed. 



An angler on the Cascapedia once played a 

 salmon three and a half hours, and finally lost th 

 fish by breaking the leader. I heard that another 

 angler, after playing a salmon three hours, lost his 

 fish in the same way. Both of these salmon were 

 seen before they broke the casts, and were supposed 

 to have been of extraordinary size. I knew the 

 men of one of the canoes, and they told me that 

 their fish would weigh seventy pounds. They 

 were both experienced canoemen, and no doubt 



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