664 AMERICAN ANGLER'S BOOK. 



leaving a considerable length of slack-line to be managed. I reeled up 

 as fast as possible, and got the control of my line. The prisoner had 

 evidently reached deep water behind a sunken rock, and thus hid away, 

 deemed himself secure from further assault. Now, pulling on the line a 

 little, the fish struggled and pricked himself afresh — up he came to the 

 surface with a single swoop, and springing vigorously two or three times 

 clean out of the water, took down the stream with the velocity of an 

 arrow to the deep pool, as before. I now began to hold him a little 

 taut, — he was less restive — I reeled up a few feet, he struggled man- 

 fully for liberty, but I had him too securely hooked, and was quite 

 willing to trust to the tenacity of my rod and line. He made another 

 effort at a run ; I gave him line, then checked him ; his strength was evi- 

 dently on the wane, and I felt confident of his capture. The prisoner was 

 fast losing his spirit and boldness, and began to sulk, pulling heavily oa 

 the rod, and there were no further formidable efforts made at gyrating and 

 floundering about. I still continued to slowly reel in my line, and gradu- 

 ally forced the fish towards me from out of the deep water. In about 

 twenty minutes from the time I struck him, I had brought my captive to 

 the surface, when I well knew from the projecting languid eye-balls and 

 the half-extended jaws that he was nearly done for. My companion at 

 the Narrows, who was very skilful in the use of the landing-net as well as 

 the rod, and from whom I received much information and many courtesies 

 during my sojourn at the lakes, now placed himself on a large rock at the 

 edge of the water, and by a dexterous movement secured my prisoner. 

 Before landing the fish I was much disappointed in the discovery that he 

 was not near so large as I had concluded from his sprightly actions in the 

 first place, and the dead pull made on the line towards the close of the 

 struggle. This dead weight, however, was soon accounted for, when my 

 companion called out to me to "keep cool" and throw him my landing-net, as 

 there was another fish securely hooked on the stretcher fly. In a moment 

 both fishes were safe within the meshes of the capacious net. 



I will not attempt to describe the feelings of pleasure with which I 

 handled these two beautiful fish, that had afforded me so much diversion. 



The larger one weighed three and a half pounds, the other two pounds 



making in all five pounds and a half. 



The following morning, the 27th, was cold and bleak when we 

 turned out of the Camp — wrapped up warmly in a heavy coat, we took 

 our station at the Narrows some time before the dawn. It was too dark to 

 cast, and we patiently awaited the first streaks of light as they crept over 



