278 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



who was fishing in a western stream with the best of 

 fly-rods and tackle to match. He had hooked and 

 was playing a good trout, when to him entered a 

 native of those parts. After watching the bending 

 rod and tight line for a while, the settler could no 

 longer contain himself, and scornfully exclaimed : 

 c Heave, stranger ! Why the blank don't you heave ?' 



On our way up the river we passed a small log-hut 

 on the farther bank, which Andy stopped to examine 

 through my binoculars with some care. A horse was 

 tethered outside the hut, which otherwise appeared 

 deserted. Finally Andy expressed the opinion that 

 ' the darned road-agent ' was probably concealed 

 therein, and was at first in favour of our return, lest 

 we might be mistaken for the Sheriff and his man, 

 and so vicariously fired upon. 



But your keen fisherman is not so easily turned 

 aside. All my thoughts were intent on some good- 

 looking streams I saw in the distance above the hut, 

 and so we passed on and were not molested. I had 

 not come 5,000 miles from home to take any un- 

 authorized part in a man-hunt, and was perfectly 

 willing to let the Sheriff of Uinta County arrest his 

 own criminals. 



So we came to our fishing-ground ; Andy took 

 charge of the horses ; and I commenced operations. 

 The river was about 25 yards broad, with beautiful 

 streams and pools of clear mountain water which, 

 from an angler's point of view, left nothing to be 

 desired. The question that chiefly interested me 

 was, Would the Green River trout take my Scotch 

 flies? 



The problem was soon solved, very much to my 

 satisfaction. Within a few moments I had hooked 



