FLY-FISHING FOR BASS, ETC. I3I 



to-do, I rolled off into the boiling torrent below, — 

 down — down — down to the abysmal depths. The 

 cold water revived my mind, and with a good diver's 

 prescience I held my breath, and sought to emerge 

 from the curling, eddying, twisting fury of the 

 maelstrom of which I was the sport. Try as I 

 would, I found my arms and legs held as in a vice, 

 and powerless ; then after a time, interminable as 

 it seemed, I was violently thrust forward, as by 

 some strong human arm, and found I was ascend- 

 ing. With one convulsive kick I arose amidst a 

 great clot of white foam, which I remember to this 

 day looked like a great sky window from below. 

 My breath came back convulsively, and, oh how 

 painfully and chokingly ! and in another niioment I 

 was washed on to the shallow riffle ten or twelve 

 rods below the dam. There I lay for quite a time, 

 till I could cough up what water I had unavoidably 

 swallowed. Finally, I began to realize. The first 

 poignant thought was the fish. The loose line 

 had wound round and round my legs and body, and 

 even arms, in the eddy ; but still something was at- 

 tached to it. This was the rod. Carefully I drew 

 it up unbroken and reeled in the line, which I had 

 disengaged from my body. There was still a lot of 



