MEMOIR. 21 



it to him at once ; he made small bones of it this time, and rushing up 

 like a bull-dog, or like one of your lovely peregrines, took the fly greedily. 

 I just let him feel I was at the other end of the gear, and knew in- 

 stinctively that the good steel was well into something firm. At first 

 he seemed not quite to realise the situation, and after a few sulky and 

 dangerous shakes of the head took to sailing steadily up and down the 

 pool, once or twice approaching the rapids below, but turning again by 

 gentle persuasion ; these tactics he continued for nearly an hour, my 

 man waiting for him on the gravel below, and out of my sight. By 

 this time the effects of the last night's rain became fully apparent, the 

 still, dark pool below my feet had turned into a seething pot, without 

 a quiet corner for the fish to rest in, and the water had risen nearly 

 twenty-four inches above its size when I hooked him. The upshot was, 

 he shot down the narrows, and went rolling heels over head down the 

 foaming " Meux and Co.'s Entire " (this being the usual colour of our 

 summer floods). To stop him was impossible ; 1 held 011 above the rapid 

 till I thought my good Forrest rod would have gone at the hand, and 

 certainly the fine single gut I had on earlier would have parted with 

 half the strain.* 



All I could do was to give him what line he required until he found 

 a resting-place behind some rock ; this he did after rattling off fifty 

 yards of line. Waiting some minutes till he seemed quiet, I threw off 

 some ten yards more line, and turning the top of the rod up stream, I 

 darted it down to my man 011 the gravel below, having cautioned him 

 not to alarm the fish by letting the line get taut. To scramble up the 

 rocks and down again to the gravel bed, to resume possession of my 

 rod, was two or three minutes' work, and just as I seized hold of it, 

 the fish, having ventured from his shelter, was, in spite of his efforts, 

 hurried down at racing pace, taking more line than I liked, while I 

 followed, crawling and leaping along some impossible-looking country, 

 such as I would not have faced in cold blood. 



By this time he had nearly reached the Ess or fall, and all seemed 



* Memo, en parent/Una. I once asked several old sportsmen what weight was 

 on the line at the very heaviest strain you could put on with rod in hand, as when 

 holding on like grim death to an insubordinate fish, the end of the line being 

 attached to the hook of a spring balance i.e., what weight the balance would 

 register. One man guessed 35 Ibs., another, laughing at him, said he would bet 

 20 Ibs. to be nearer the mark ; none guessed less than 15 Ibs. ! The fact is, you 

 cannot, with the best and strongest tackle, draw out more than 3 or 4 Ibs. 



