TAIL FIRST 



tered his existence for he would have had 

 nothing on the Humble Angler, except his 

 salary. 



He was too busy to stop and laugh at 

 himself even if he had had the inclination. 

 Not so with McCarthy, who loudly whooped 

 his enjoyment. Later he fully explained 

 just how funny it was. He may have been 

 right. Of this the Angler was no judge, 

 but he did know that later there appeared 

 on various parts of his anatomy more black 

 and blue spots than ever adorned a coach 

 dog. 



The fleeing salmon did not allow time for 

 even a cuss word by way of relief. The 

 Angler lost his hat, his footing, his temper, 

 and his breath, but managed to retain rod 

 and honor. 



There is no record of just how long this 

 acrobatic performance lasted. Judging by 

 his feelings and condition it might have been 

 weeks rather than minutes. As the shining 

 sands extended a welcome, glancing back- 

 ward he fancied some of those ghostly rocks 

 were grinning their mockery. 



At last the aerial voyage was over. The 

 rod was in his hand; the reel was on the rod; 

 the line attached to the reel, the leader to 



19 



