A TRIP TO THE LA VAL. 67 



will; in her death covering herself with immortality 

 giving her name to the torrent that destroyed her. 



Hastily launching one of the canoes, and rigging up our 

 rods, my companion and myself, eager for the fray, com- 

 menced tempting the innocent inhabitants of the deep 

 with delusive baits Evidently Mr. Red Hackle was not 

 one of their intimate acquaintances, and they took to 

 him amazingly. The god of day was already declining 

 behind the western hills, and casting long shadows over 

 the now placid water, but the fish leaped at the fly in 

 innumerable numbers, giving us such sport as we at least 

 never enjoyed before. At almost every cast a trout, 

 varying in size from a quarter of a pound to two pounds 

 and a half, plunging out of water, seized the fly fear- 

 lessly in his mouth, while often two or three were on the 

 line at once. Large or small, they were most vigorous, 

 making fierce struggles and mad rushes to escape, their 

 silver sides glancing through the water, and their tails 

 lashing it into a foam. No dull, heavy, logy fish were 

 they, but active and lively, and excellent was the sport 

 they gave ; so that when our men, having improvised a 

 kitchen on the rocks, called to us that supper was ready, 

 we were loath to leave our sport. It was then eight 

 o'clock ; we had been fishing about three hours, and 

 over one hundred and twenty fish, averaging about half 

 a pound, were the net reward of our skill. 



The scene, as we took our supper upon the end of an 

 old tumble-down dock, was peculiar. The light of the 

 fires, making the surrounding darkness the deeper, served 

 alone to illumine with lurid brightness the faces and fan- 

 tastic dresses of our men, while the roar of the cataract 



