FLY-FISHING ON THE OSTRA DAL RIVER, SWEDEN. 45 



Late in the evening we struck upon a small fishing- 

 house upon the bank of the Lake Bogon, containing 

 boats and nets, and hence there led a well-marked 

 pathway which conducted us to four log houses called 

 Kaarinsjon, for that we found was their name, amid 

 pouring rain. This was the only human habitation 

 in the vicinity, and the next lay thirty-five miles 

 distant upon the shores of the long Lake Foemundsjo. 



Lake Eogon in an angling capacity was disappoint- 

 ing. It swarms with large pike. True, we bought 

 from an old man that evening a fine two-pound trout 

 for half a kroner, which he had netted that day. 

 But the next day the rod brought us in nothing, 

 though it was sedulously employed while we jour- 

 neyed to the distant end of the lake in a boat, halting 

 for an hour for dinner, and putting up some ryper 

 from the rocky shore. The water is as clear as glass 

 and paved with enormous rocks and glacial debris, 

 forming a succession of huge subaqueous caverns. 

 Nevertheless, we saw a sight that to meet with we 

 would gladly have travelled double the distance. 



Where a brook enters the lake in a small circular 

 bay we had landed with fly-rod, to secure, if possible, 

 a dinner. The wind was blowing freshly from in 

 front, and some bushes behind made it a work of art 

 to throw the flies successfully farther than a yard 

 or two. One smart pull from a good fish we got, 

 however, and no more, and at the same moment a 

 large pike made several plunges through shallow 

 water in pursuit of some small fry. Not far distant 



