46 Tfo American Salmon-fisherman. 



he first pushed the canoe from the bank in the morning 

 he always delivered the auspices: "Catch fish to-day: I 

 dreamed woodchuck" or something else, for the omens 

 which portended good-luck were numerous, and of varied 

 character. 



On this occasion the seer was on his mettle. His 

 practised eye and varied experience had long since in- 

 formed him that his present employer was one to 

 make the most of the smiles of fortune. So it came to 

 pass that one auspicious day they raised and fastened 

 a fish clearly quite a little larger than anything that 

 had been taken that season. Had the fish been of solid 

 silver, as it looked to be, neither could have welcomed it 

 with more ardor, or more earnestly desired to make it 

 his. The contest was waged from the canoe for quite a 

 while, and was then adjourned to the bank as the fish be- 

 came more amenable to reason. They worked him in 

 gradually, but at the approach of the gaffer he moved 

 out again into the stream. Then came a crisis. Some- 

 thing went wrong in the bowels of the reel, and the 

 spool refused to turn under a strain which threatened 

 either to pull the fish's head off or break the tackle. The 

 angler was too old a hand to spare his rod in such an 

 emergency, and he taxed it to the utmost, while he en- 

 deavored with some success to tear the line from the reel 

 with his right hand. The seer flew to his assistance. 

 Together they performed like a dog in a hornet's nest, 

 feeding out to the struggling fish such instalments of 

 line as they were able to drag out by main force despite 

 the obstruction. Suddenly the reel seemed to think bet- 

 ter of it, and resumed its usual complacent demeanor. 

 The barometer of their feelings, then clear way down 



