IN PARADISE. 



27S 



the salmon rise. It seems to me as if my 

 fly must hit the tree tops away up on the 

 hill or catch the wind and reach the farther 

 shore; but Tobin is remorseless for more 

 line. His ideas of distance and mine are 

 in utter conflict, and I am thinking my 

 line will reach around the world if he does 

 not soon stop calling for more. He sees 

 the swirl of water from the height, and 

 cries out, but I have felt that indescribable 

 something which is more vibrant than the 

 electric spark and more thrilling than the 

 glance of dark eyes! Yet the salmon broke 

 water ere Tobin's voice reached me or the 

 vibrant thrill had stopped! Up the river 

 v/ent that salmon, and I down the river, 

 until Tobin's cry made me scramble up the 

 bank to get a taut line. Then the quarry 

 was well in hand, I answered Tobin's eyes, 

 and he started for the Missus. The Missus 

 insists the quintessence of angling is land- 

 ing the salmon, while I only love to make 

 the fish take the fly; the rest I cheerfully 

 give to her. To me the keen zest is to 

 pick out some quaint, undersized fly, far 

 removed from the lauded Jock Scott and 

 its ilk, or in dark, murky flood some huge 

 bug, and cast till the salmon rises; while 

 to the Missus the art lies, not in dragging 

 the salmon ashore, as though with chain 

 and windlass — that is the desecration of the 

 reel — but in fighting the fish until it is so 

 tired the guide can almost pick it up with 

 his hands; until net or gaff shall be used 

 to mercifully kill the quarry. 



But the salmon had a will of his own, 

 and a scream of the reel told me I must 

 take care or the Missus would be disap- 

 pointed! Another rush and the fish broke 

 water over on the farther side. Then I had 

 all I could do to take in the slack. In with 

 the line until the rod bowed low down and 

 the fish was near, as the direction of the 

 line showed. I waited, without relaxing 

 the strain, for it is dangerous to let up on 

 that for an instant. He was a sulking 

 brute, and "it was time and I" against the 

 salmon without fear of tackle or rod. I 

 tired of the strain and carefully struck the 

 butt on a rock to start the fish. Then I 

 tugged the line sharply, a most dangerous 

 thing; but the salmon did not move. I 



began to ponder, and, pondering, to fear, 

 for I could not move that line from where 

 it went down beneath the water. I realized 

 the jig was up, the salmon was gone and 

 the fly was caught in the bottom. I 

 thought of a lady who might not accept 

 my excuses and who would certainly sneer 

 and jeer if she did no more; and I laid the 

 rod down on the shore in disgust. I pulled 

 off the line freely from the reel and again 

 tried to loosen the fly, without lifting the 

 rod, by walking up and down. My only 

 thought was to escape some of the remarks 

 the Missus was sure to make. In vain! 

 The Missus and Tobin arrived, the former 

 breathless and excited, the latter eager and 

 elated; but they exchanged glances when 

 they looked at me and saw the rod on the 

 shore. Put in words it read, "H'm! Lost 

 another fish because I was not here!" 



However, the Missus was rather more 

 amiable than I expected and bore her loss 

 with good grace. She tried unsuccessfully 

 to get the fly and leader out, and after all 

 efforts failed we sent Tobin to the camp 

 for the canoe, while I got a few sugges- 

 tions on the art of how to handle a rod 

 with a salmon on the fly. An hour later 

 Tobin came up the river and the Missus 

 climbed up on the bank with the rod, to 

 straighten the line, that Tobin might see 

 where to take the canoe. The canoe ap- 

 proached over the fastened fly, when Tobin 

 shouted and the Missus screamed. The 

 salmon was going down the stream to the 

 sea! Down into the canoe the Missus got, 

 and skirts were no impediment to speed. 

 Tobm had the bow and I the stern, with 

 the Missus in the chair. The Missus com- 

 forted me with a warning not to make her 

 lose the fish, and judiciously I kept quiet. 

 I wondered what my proprietary rights 

 were, but I did not utter my thoughts. 

 Three hours and a half later we got back 

 to camp. I humbled in spirit, with sore 

 arms and a well-nigh broken back; Tobin 

 as proud as a peacock, and the Missus as 

 vain as a man. All because Tobin gaffed 

 that salmon! 



"And never vet since high in Paradise 

 O'er the four rivers the first roses blew. 

 Came purer pleasure unto mortal kind." 



JAPANESE MATCHLOCK. 

 Heavy octagon barrel, 29 inches long, total length 44 inches. Calibre 53, open sights, smooth bore. 



