"MY ENEMY" 143 



in a position which brought it several feet to 

 one side of the fish. He came across at it, 

 took it confidently, and dashed towards the 

 weed-bed up-stream. I knew that he meant 

 to bore through the weeds as usual and break 

 the gut by a jump in the clear water beyond, 

 so I put on all the strain that I could, deter- 

 mined to force his head down-stream before 

 he could achieve his purpose. The little rod 

 bent nearly double with the effort, and a break 

 seemed almost certain, when at last the pressure 

 began to tell. His pace slackened. He came 

 to rest. His head turned, and soon he was 

 boring steadily down-stream, trying to get his 

 head down the whole time and to turn up- 

 stream into every weed-bed we passed during 

 our progress ; but I hauled him by main force, 

 and gradually guided him towards my bank. 

 It seemed as if he would never tire. Once or 

 twice he headed round, and regained almost 

 his full strength directly he met the current 

 again. At last I managed to guide him under 

 my bank, shifted the rod to my left hand, keeping 

 up the strain, slipped the landing-net into the 

 water below him, and tried to head him into 

 it. He saw it, or me, and was off at once, 

 well into a weed-bed. The strain was no longer 

 a live one ; it had become dead and steady. 



