Reserved for "Honorable Mention" 



not put the required weight on that old line, so out of 

 the swirl he went. Taking a bee line he raced up those 

 rapids like a quarter horse with me on the bank a 

 close second. Deciding it took too much gas to fight 

 that fast water with a tow on, he swung around and 

 changing his tactics, fought back and forth across the 

 current with occasional short runs up stream. We had 

 an exciting trip but finally landed back in the swirl 

 pretty well winded, but by no means conquered. 



Just at this time my little pal, Foxie, the Airedale, 

 got back from a scouting expedition and, taking in 

 the situation at a glance, immediately proffered her 

 valuable service by a wild dive for that trout. It took 

 considerable persuasion to convince her that I desired 

 the honor of retrieving that bird alone, but finally she 

 came to the bank, where she continued to extend the 

 benefit and encouragement of her enthusiasm by run- 

 ning up and down the bank barking her doggondest. 

 Just about now the question of landing the fish began 

 to assume large proportions. I had no net, could not 

 get down stream on account of the ledge, and the bank 

 was about four feet above the water on a pretty steep 

 pitch. I had to have that trout plumb tired, so pro- 

 ceeded to bring on that state by working him in close, 

 then throwing rocks at him to drive him out for another 

 run. Game as he was he could not keep that business 

 up forever, and finally rolled over on his side and gave 

 up the battle. I reached out and taking the line in 



169 



