22 GOLDEN DAYS 



I like to think he was well over the 

 pound ; in any case, he was much heavier 

 than anything taken during the afternoon, 

 and fought like a tiger. In my excite- 

 ment, I put on an extra ounce of strain 

 as he pulled and bored for a deep hole. 

 There was a plunge, and my cast returned 

 unto me flyless. 



Well, there were other good fish in the 

 stream, so I felt for my fly-box, sitting 

 down the while on the bankside to mani- 

 pulate a second gnat. Before starting on 

 again I laid out my catch on the mossy 

 peat, and thanked heaven and the sunlight 

 that I was here, and not dangling a lob- 

 worm in that dreary river down the valley. 

 Kingcups were growing beside the bank, 

 and with them I lined my creel, making 

 a fit resting-place for my five brace of 

 brightly spotted little fish, all of a size, and 

 each as fat as butter. 



Then I started off again, and worked 

 on up the water, taking a fish here and 

 there. By the time I had reached the 

 open moorland it was late afternoon, a 

 golden haze lay over the river, and the 

 runs between the pools were molten. 



