238 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



I fished the Quaale beat of the Orkla for several 

 happy seasons after that year. The water was too 

 near to the mouth of the river for really first-class 

 sport in point of numbers. Also the heavy fish 

 usually ran in the month of June, which was earlier 

 in the season than we were generally able to get out 

 from England. But we were well satisfied with our 

 bargain, nevertheless, though we never there killed a 

 fish over 25 pounds. This, so far as I remember, was 

 the record for our beat. 



It may have been my youthful fancy, but our 

 Orkla salmon, fresh run from the waters of the 

 North Sea, played, according to my recollection, 

 stronger and faster than any salmon I have elsewhere 

 killed. 



Many a time my forefinger has been cut by 

 the running-line, occasionally to the bone, as some 

 strong eighteen-pound fish ran headlong down the 

 stream. The pools were wide and deep, the current 

 strong, and the sport the fish gave most excellent. 

 I once remember a twelve-pound fish, hooked fairly 

 in the mouth, taking a friend of mine, W. Cook, a 

 thoroughly experienced salmon-fisher, three-quarters 

 of an hour to land. 



We fished in those days with nothing but the fly, 

 and if Orkla salmon were inclined to move at all, the 

 fly, or, rather, that varied bunch of tinsel, bristles, fur, 

 and feathers, tied with artistic care upon a hook, and 

 which we call a salmon-fly, was usually a sufficiently 

 attractive lure for our purpose. 



Why a salmon takes a so-called salmon-fly, and 

 what he takes the said fly to be, are subjects I am 

 not now concerned too seriously to write about, nor 

 even at any time am I inclined to dogmatize thereon. 



