2G THE AMERICAN TROUT. 



the number of herring darting past gave continual 

 promise of the presence of their arch enemy, the trout. 



I had half-filled my basket, and had met with wonder- 

 ful escapes and terrible heart-rending losses, mingled 

 with exhilarating successes. I had made about half the 

 distance, as well as we judged, and feltproud and happy 

 as no king upon his throne ever did or will. My rod, 

 though a fly-rod, was whipped every few inches with silk, 

 and thus strengthened had stood the unequal conflict 

 admirably. Still hoping for better things — who will not 

 hope for the impossible ? — I strode on. Below me the 

 current made a sudden turn at a bend in the stream, and 

 eddied swiftly under the overhanging bank. The brook 

 almost disappeared in what was evidently a vast cavern 

 deep in the bowels of that bank. In such watery palaces, 

 amid the worn rocks, the tangled roots, the undulating 

 moss and weeds, fierce-eyed, monstrous trout delight to 

 dwell. In such fortresses they await unwary travellers, 

 and dark deeds are done in the congenial darkness — 

 outrage, riots and murder stalk boldly about. The 

 migratory - herring, harmless and unsuspicious, peers 

 in and starts affrighted back, then peers again, at last 

 ventures forward, and then, compelled by instinct to 

 ascend, tries to dart hastily by ; there is a sudden rush, 

 a frantic struggle, a piteous look entreating mercy of 

 pitiless hearts ; for an instant the water is dyed with 

 blood and then flows on, washing all trace of the deed 

 away. 



I approach the den carefully, the feather-like float 

 dancing merrily far ahead over the rippling tide, and as 

 the line is paid out, swaying from side to side, close in 



