74 With Rod and Gun in A T ew England 



" Well, gentlemen, let us not speculate any more about salmon and 

 their vagaries," exclaimed the Judge, rising to his feet; "we cannot under- 

 stand all their ins and outs, and I propose that we drop the discussion and 

 take the rod ; the afternoon is waning and we have but two or three hours' 

 light." 



We agreed to his proposition and were soon clambering down the 

 ledge at the outlet, with rods in hand, followed by the guides. We gave the 

 Judge the lower, or second pool, and the doctor and I took the upper, each 

 of us taking a side of the river. 



The Doctor was a graceful angler, and he handled his rod with all the 

 skill that is acquired through many years' experience in its use. He was 

 a somewhat small, wiry man, but the length of line that he could put out 

 was astonishing. Moving slowly along the shore he covered every inch of 

 the water thoroughly. 



I kept abreast of him and fished carefully, but my attention was as often 

 given to the fly that the Doctor was casting, as to my own. 



" Sure, the Doctor is a great hand with the rod," said Hiram, who was 

 attending me and carrying my gaff and landing net ; " you 'd have to hunt 

 long to find his aquel." 



" Yes," I replied, " he handles his rod beautifully, but the old Judge 

 is no amateur." 



" Right you are, sir," said the guide ; " it 's always a joy entirely to be 

 on a river with the three of ye." 



As he spoke a dry maple leaf, which had prematurely ripened and 

 fallen, came floating down the breeze and fell into the river just below us, 

 where, impelled by the slight current of air, it glided gently across the sur- 

 face of the water ; it had reached a point a few yards below my fly, when 

 a swirl in the water was seen, and the leaf disappeared. 



" Look at that, now," exclaimed the guide. " A saumon rose and took 

 the leaf ; he '11 spit it out shortly. I 've seen the beggers do it before, many 's 

 the time." 



As he spoke, the leaf came to the surface again, near the spot where 

 it had disappeared, but it was sodden, and floated limply. 



I reeled in my line at once, for I knew that the salmon would not rise 

 again, immediately, and, lighting our pipes, we sat on a bowlder and 

 waited. 



" A saumon has poor taste that will rise at a dead leaf," said Hiram, 

 sententiously, " but I 've seen it done lots of times; I think 't is playing with 

 it, they are." 



" Yes, they rise to the drifting leaf just as they come up to the arti- 

 ficial fly," I replied, " probably only in play and not for food, for most of 

 the salmon flies resemble nothing: in nature." 



