MAY 107 



relative, the Swiss edelweiss. It is the last day of May, 

 yet the oaks have no more than a thin veil of golden 

 olive foliage ; ill betide the fugitive monarch who should 

 trust to one of them for hiding in this backward season. 

 As for the ash, it stands naked and wintry still; posi- 

 tively the only visible change it has made consists in the 

 strong sunshine of the past week having mellowed its 

 black buds into olive green. What a true eye Tennyson 

 had for the aspects of nature, and what dainty use he 

 made of his knowledge of them ! Thus of the Princess — 



' Why lingereth she to clothe herself in love ? 

 Delaying, as the tender ash delays, 

 To clothe herself when all the woods are green.' 



All this is very fine, no doubt, but, quoth the reader, it 

 has nothing to do with salmon-fishing. No, but he must 

 be either more or less than human who can cross the 

 moor this glorious morning, when spring is making a last 

 surrender to summer, and pay no heed to all the loveli- 

 ness around. Indeed, one may talk or scribble about 

 salmon-fishing to-day ; but fishing for salmon might seem 

 to one who has no experience of the Cree an enterprise 

 as bootless as might be. For the weather has been for a 

 week in the mood which meteorologists are pleased to 

 term anticyclonic : not a drop of rain has fallen, it has 

 been intensely hot, and the river has shrunk to summer 

 level. Cattle are collected ostentatiously on the tops of 

 all accessible knolls — sure symptom of settled weather — 

 and the morning haze gives token of speedily yielding to 

 an imperious sun. 



Nevertheless, there is known to be good store of fish 

 in these deep, rocky pools, and there are certain throats 



