302 A Sportsman at Large 



ilk, who had been my subaltern in the Duke of Cambridge's 

 Hussars) had joined up. Lastly there was one Dickie 

 Rorvig, whose family tree showed that his father was a Swede 

 and his mother an Irishwoman. This was a quaint bird, 

 bubbling over with humour ; a first-rate batsman, a tricky 

 bowler and a good horseman he was up to any sport or game 

 that might be thrown in his way. But so far his fishing achieve- 

 ments had been negligible ; in fact he knew nothing whatever 

 about the fascinating art of the angle. Though ever in a 

 chronic state of impecuniosity, so cheery was he and so keen 

 on sport, that he was always welcome in our circle. 



He was of what the police reports describe as " medium 

 height and build," with a knowledgeable, square head, a 

 somewhat rubicund countenance, an inconspicuous snub- 

 nose and an expansive mouth. 



With scant ceremony, my C.O. had dubbed him " Bone- 

 head," by which descriptive pseudonym he was universally 

 recognized and addressed. 



As soon as ever we had descended from our respective 

 carioles, Lindsay and I went on to the wide wooden bridge 

 which spanned the river in front of our quarters. It was at 

 once evident that the river was in flood, and that we should 

 have to possess our souls in patience until it had subsided 

 at least two feet, which might not come about for some days, 

 and if luck and weather proved against us for weeks on end ! 



This was a bright look-out ! 



Anyway, it gave us time to look around, spy out the land 

 and investigate the fluvial intricacies of the Rauma. After 

 walking from one end of the beat to the other, I must say 

 I was not very favourably impressed ; although the high state 

 of the water forbade my forming anything like an accurate, 

 or even fair, estimate of its possibilities and probabilities. 

 At some points the river was very wide, and judging from the 

 flow, none too deep. At others, it rushed and tumbled through 

 narrow, rocky gorges, where I was quite unable to visualize 

 anything like a promising pool or run. In fact, on the whole 

 stretch, the absence of what was likely to prove a good cast, 

 if and when the flood might subside, was only too apparent 

 to any practised eye. 



