66 TRAVELS IN THE EIGHTIES. 



first of the rivers which join the Horn Lake to the 

 Udjaure. Then we ran the boat ashore on to some 

 rocks, which the Swede, Edholm, declared was the 

 best place of all for the largest trout (stretching his 

 arms as wide as they would go by way of illustration). 

 But as the sun was blazing and every stone on the 

 bottom visible, I decided to try first lower down, where, 

 after a long rush of turbulent water there lay sparkling 

 in the sunlight, a large pool, covered with white 

 bubbles, and at least thirty yards in breadth and sixty 

 in length. The narrow rush at the inflow was a 

 splendid place for letting out without any trouble a 

 long line with a spoon bait attached, for any one not 

 an adept in the art of casting a bait in orthodox 

 manner, so after letting the line run as far as to what 

 I judged was the head of the pool, I walked slowly 

 down, but considerably slower than the current, to 

 keep it spinning. I was rewarded by a violent jerk, 

 and when I wound up the broken line it became 

 evident that the spoon was firmly fixed in the jaw of 

 some monstrous trout, and was sailing about the pool 

 between heaven and earth, like Mahommed's coffin. 



Meanwhile, Edholm fished with the other rod and a 

 large fly of the palmer sort. His angling consisted of 

 violent efforts, accompanied by a loud swishing sound of 

 the rod and line cutting the air with immense violence, 

 quite audible a hundred yards away, and usually having 

 the result of propelling the fly about a yard and a half. 



My large trout refused to be tempted further, being 

 apparently quite satisfied with capturing my bait, and 



