SALMON-FISHING. 375 



A proper regard for the rights of his successors, though, will 

 always restrain a considerate, fair fisher in such cases, how- 

 ever ardent a sportsman he may be. I have seen a Salmon- 

 fisher continue to whip a pool under a bright glaring sun, 

 long after the fish had shown the least disposition to rise, and 

 even hand the rod to one of his canoe -men, to give it a more 

 thorough thrashing, because his right to the pool would pass 

 to his successor in an hour or two. A specimen of this style 

 of Salmon-fisher I met at the Grand Falls of the Nipissiguit, 

 last summer. A fat, short-winded little Englishman from 

 Manchester, who talked largely of the moor-fowl (?) he had 

 bagged on the Derbyshire hills, and the number of Salmon 

 he had killed in a single afternoon in Scotland. He was care- 

 ful of his comfort, and generally had his bottle of claret or a 

 well-filled flask with him on the river-side, and took it easily, 

 while one of his canoe-men (an expert) would thrash the water 

 industriously until he hooked a Salmon, and then hand him 

 the rod to kill it ; reversing the custom of the Highland 

 laird who hooks his own fish, and hands the rod to his ser- 

 vant. His plea for enjoying the sport by proxy was, that 

 "he could not come the left-shouldered cast" (which was 

 necessary in fishing some' fine pools from the right bank of that 

 river), or that he " wanted Francis to limber his new rod." I 

 am not aware of the exact proportion of his catch, the canoe- 

 man hooked for him, perhaps half, perhaps three-fourths ; he 

 set them all down however in his memorandum-book, as the 

 product of his own skill. His canoe-man afterwards quietly 

 remarked to me, with a broad grin, that the little man would 

 have looked more Salmon, if he had handled them properly 

 after he (the said Francis) had hooked them for him. The 

 companion of this gentleman was just his opposite: a young 

 Scotchman, who, though he had never fished for Salmon 



