SALMON-FISHING 245 



his fly a second time in the same pool, and again a 

 salmon rose and was hooked. Big fish, as is well 

 known, often run, and occasionally rise, in pairs. So 

 it chanced on this occasion. The second salmon was 

 duly played and landed, and found to weigh exactly 

 41 pounds. 



The precise feelings of the host, on his arrival on 

 the scene just as the second fish was gaffed, and in 

 what words he expressed them, have not been re- 

 corded. But, as ordinary mortals, we must suppose 

 that his joy at his guest's success was chastened by 

 the thought that in a bare two hours' fishing the tyro 

 had accomplished, in twofold measure, what the life- 

 long expert had failed to achieve. 



Such, then, are some of the chequered incidents of 

 an enthralling sport. But the tyro does not always 

 have things his own way. 



One day W. Cook and I paid a visit, by invitation, 

 to the Sundal River, which helps to drain the same 

 fjeld as the Orkla, but flows west instead of north, 

 and into the Christiansund fjord. 



The visit involved a two days' carriole drive up the 

 Orkla Valley, and over the divide into the valley of 

 the Sundal, through some wild and typical Norwegian 

 scenery of pine-clad hillside and rocky peaks. We 

 found the Sundal low and clear. There was only one 

 pool, a deep and rocky stream, in good order. The 

 friends who had invited us had left a few days 

 before. 



There were always heavy fish in the Upper Sundal 

 late in July, and we started operations on the evening 

 of our arrival with all the additional pleasure derived 

 from the fishing of new water. 



That evening Cook killed a good fish of 17 pounds, 



