186 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



their path ; Uke children they are, bubbhngly light- 

 hearted, but they grow old with bewildering 

 rapidity, and in the dignified impetuosity of their 

 maturity they become rivers, powerful enough 

 to carve great paths through the rock-clad 

 mountains, and through the deep canons thus 

 formed they march unceasingly toward the great 

 Pacific Ocean. It is to these canons, so deep that 

 the sun can scarce find its way to the water, that 

 he who would coax the rainbow trout from the 

 dark green pools must betake himself. There, 

 under the shading branch of the giant cedars and 

 pines, a man may thank God that he is hving and 

 that fortune has brought him to this favoured 

 spot. The fishing — well, after all, that is only an 

 excuse for being there, a delightful excuse I 

 thought on that memorable morning, when the 

 dancing waters of the Kern River awakened me, 

 and called out a bewitching invitation to come and 

 try my luck with the fish. No second bid was 

 necessary ; the rod, slightly over five ounces in 

 weight, was quickly assembled, and before the 

 sun had bestowed his morning kiss on the river 

 I cast my flies for the first time on a western 

 mountain stream. 



Many fascinating stories have been told me of 

 the rainbow trout, and of the glorious country 

 in which they live. The country was visible, 

 and certainly the descriptions had done it but 

 scant justice. Would the fishing prove equally 

 satisfying ? 



Filled with delightful expectancy, I cast the flies 

 on the ripples and pools, but for half an hour there 



