THE BASIN. 211 



point forty feet distant for a bait thrown into the Pemige- 

 wasset and take it, and I was so much surprised that I 

 measured the distance. 



With either fly or bait I prefer to fish a stream down- 

 ward. This is contrary to many authorities, but is the 

 result of my own experience. I make no account of the 

 fact that fish lie with their heads up stream. They have 

 no eyes in their tails, but they see backward with sharp 

 vision. The clash and foam of the waterfall hides the 

 angler effectually from the fish as he comes down stream 

 to a pool, and rougher water is usually found in the upper 

 part of every good trout -hole. Fish lying under the 

 rough surface see out plainly enough down stream, 

 through the glassy water and the smooth surface at the 

 lower end of the pool. Where the fall is strong and the 

 foam abundant, you may come down to the very edge of 

 the pool from above, and take trout from within three feet 

 of your stand. 



It seems, too, that trout are less likely to be frightened 

 by an angler wading the brook than by one on the bank. 

 Why this is I leave for others to explain, but I have known 

 many a trout to rise between my very feet at a fly trailing 

 from my hand while I stood in the middle of a rapid. 



All visitors at the Profile House know the Basin, a 

 great hollow in the granite rock, around which for some 

 thousands of years the river has swept boulders until they 

 have worn this mighty bowl, now holding some fifteen 

 feet of transparent water, into which the river descends in 

 a cataract, and from which it rushes out through a cleft in 

 the granite and plunges into a pool below. I never took 

 a trout in the Basin. It is a singular illustration of a 

 habit of trout, which I think is well confirmed, namely, 

 that they will not lie in a hole, however inviting, between 



