154 GOLDEN DAYS 



beautifully shaped fish of one and a half 

 pounds. The other two were feeding 

 merrily, and my next cast met with a like 

 joyous reception ; but the fish was in- 

 stantly fast in the weeds, and nothing 

 could coax or force him out of them. He 

 bore heavily on the line till finally he 

 worked free. The fly returned, and was 

 petted into shape once more. The third 

 fish liesitated for a second, then ripped the 

 line from the shrieking reel in an upward 

 rush. Together we made for the higher 

 water, and fought it out in the clear 

 brown depths below the mill-hatch. This 

 was a really heavy fish, and though by no 

 means played out, he was well hooked and 

 seemed as good as mine. I found myself 

 excitedly speculating as to his size. Was 

 he a three-and-a-half-pounder ? Was he 

 more ? But at that moment the fish turned. 

 Line was quickly recovered as he sheered 

 for the near bank, and then too late, 1 

 became aware of another submerged 

 weed-clump. In those last seconds every 

 ounce of reckless strain was put upon the 

 fish, but like a heavy boat driven on a 

 soft mud flat he cut through the weeds, 



