294 A Sportsman at Large 



tion. So I told him to get the boat in order, so that I might 

 fish the most likely-looking spots. I was using an old fourteen- 

 foot green-heart rod, which had been lying by for some fifteen 

 years. As matters turned out, I shattered Larry's theory 

 to atoms, and established a record, if his statement was true ; 

 for we had not drifted more than half a dozen yards before 

 I was into a fish. I had just reduced it to sweet reasonable- 

 ness and was reeling in, when snap ! bang ! My rod broke 

 in the centre of the second joint, so that the dismembered 

 portion slipped down the line and entered the water. Here 

 was a pretty go ! Of course my best chance would have been 

 to land and hand-haul the fish ; but I was intent on getting up 

 another record as regards my own experiences. I continued 

 to play it from the boat as best I could. When I had 

 wound in until the top ring of the derelict section was against 

 the salmon's nose, I seized hold of the other extremity, and 

 relinquished the butt ; then, after a most interesting con- 

 flict, I actually managed to bring the salmon to net. A cock- 

 fish of twelve pounds. 



This freakish performance reminds me of an experience 

 which I had in after years when fishing my friend Herbert 

 Beddington's glorious stretch of the Blackwater, at Bally- 

 hooly, County Cork. 



I was accompanied by a typical Hibernian boatman, named 

 Ned Fitzgerald. The river had run very low, and it was the 

 last day of my visit. My host had told me that there was one 

 run, and one only, where a remote chance of " pulling " a 

 salmon existed ; so thither I went, accompanied by the 

 aforesaid Ned. Almost at the end of the stretch my " lemon 

 and grey " was seized by a good fish. Just below was a 

 sunken lane leading down to a shelving beach. In order to 

 facilitate fishing this bit of water, a ladder, some eight feet 

 in length, had been so placed that the angler, having a fish 

 in hand, could shin down, cross the lane, and crawl over the 

 opposite bank, when again the quarry haply might be under 

 command. But such an acrobatic demonstration did not 

 appeal to me in the least. Despite my attendant's excited 

 exhortations, I preferred to stay where I was, and attempt 

 to head the fish up-stream. I did my little best, but it 



