A Slippery Customer 



their vast home outside the bar, and I was usually 

 very successful. 



The thing was to get them when they first came 

 into the river. Then it was they were the fisherman's 

 joy gamy as any salmon and a delight to behold, 

 as when properly struck they flashed out of the water 

 two to three feet in the air, shining like so much molten 

 silver. A dozen of these beauties, from one and one- 

 half to two and one-half pounds each, gave you an 

 evening's fishing that you could think over for many 

 an hour when sitting by your cheerful fire on cold 

 winter nights. Occasionally you would hook a whale, 

 three or four pounds, then indeed your cup of fisher- 

 man's joy was about full. 



Our Club had a yearly medal going to the fortu- 

 nate chap who landed the largest fish during the sea- 

 son. This then was the goal we aimed it. 



I had started with my Indian in a light boat from 

 some three miles up the river late one afternoon in 

 the latter part of June, working my way slowly down 

 toward tide water. I had picked up quite a number 

 of fresh run trout which gave promise of better to 

 follow when we would get down to the big salmon 

 holes near the mouth of the river. 



It was an ideal evening for the sea-trout, somewhat 

 overcast, with a soft southwest wind blowing down 

 the river, making conditions perfect for casting. 



My first cast over the deep hole at a place called 

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