86 



RECREATION. 



Carefully I inspected my tackle. 

 The rod, of steel, had waved victori- 

 ous over many waters ; the line had 

 stopped the rushes of a mighty mus- 

 kalonge; the leader was strong and 

 new. I strained every knot and tested 

 every hook. 



Then, hatless, I wormed along the 

 ground. Taking advantage of every 

 stone and bunch of herbage, I reached 

 a clump of bushes within easy throw 

 of the water and there, concealed 

 from view, I prepared for a cast. I 

 did not hurry, for, to tell the truth, I 

 did not expect a bite. At last all was 

 in readiness. At a twitch of the rod 

 the flies became instinct with life and 

 flew over the water ; but, alas ! I had 

 miscalculated the distance and they 

 alighted in the hemlocks. I shook the 

 rod and they hopped to a lower limb. 

 Another shake caused them to flutter 

 and sway like live things ; then, just 

 as I smothered an objurgation, they 

 dropped into the pool. 



Before the line could follow, the 

 water was boiling around them and I 

 heard a tail slap the surface viciously. 

 Then came a steady tug and 2 angry 

 yanks at the line, and the fish sped 

 like a flash over to the rock. I saw the 

 danger in time and gave him the butt 

 with all the strength of my wrist. The 

 rod curved as if to knot and the line 

 stretched like wire from ring to ring ; 

 but all held, and I managed to keep 

 the fish from getting under the rock. 

 Back and forth he darted, the water 

 foaming around the line, in frantic ef- 

 forts to gain his place of vantage. 

 Each time I foiled him. Suddenly he 

 changed his tactics. His gleaming 

 body shot high in the air, flashing 

 like a rainbow in a sky of green. 

 Twice he jumped, and each time I 

 thought him lost. 



Then he darted up stream, reeling 

 out yard after yard of line. I scrambled 

 over brush and stones and through 

 the water, trying to retain a little line 

 and steer my captive clear of logs and 

 roots. Finally he turned and shot like 

 an arrow down the creek, passing 

 within a few feet of me. My Auto- 



matic shrieked madly as it strove to 

 keep the line taut, and once more I 

 rushed recklessly over logs and stones 

 determined to hold my fish at all haz- 

 ards. Twice I fell, each time losing 

 yards of line. When he passed the 

 big rock I was barely able to keep 

 him from taking sanctuary under it. 

 Straight down stream he went, but 

 his speed was lessening and occasion- 

 ally I could feel him struggling on the 

 hook. At last we reached easy water 

 and I began to reel him slowly in. 



Nearer and nearer he came as I 

 drew the line through the rings with 

 my left hand and ran it on the reel. 

 Presently I saw his great body sway- 

 ing on the line and turning over and 

 over with the. current, his brilliant 

 coloring showing plainly in the clear 

 water. Then I knew the famous deni- 

 zen of Rock pool was indeed a rain- 

 bow trout, and a splendid specimen. 



I drew him nearer until he lay close, 

 beside me. Heavens ! how was I go- 

 ing to land him? Above and below 

 me the banks were steep and brush- 

 covered. To attempt to tow him up 

 stream against the current was folly ; 

 to trust him amid the logs and brush 

 below was worse ; to touch the line 

 was to lose him. I knew I could not 

 get a grip on his slimy body that 

 would hold an instant. I searched my 

 pockets for aid. I looked at the giant 

 trout, saw he was rapidly recovering 

 and realized that unless something 

 was done at once he would be ready 

 for another fight. 



Then a great inspiration came to 

 me. I kicked off one of my wading 

 boots. Grasping it by the strap I let 

 it fill with water and float down below 

 the fish. Then, when the light current 

 had distended the gossamer top, I 

 moved it slowly up stream until the 

 trout's big tail, square with age, dis- 

 appeared in the boot. Inch by inch 

 the black funnel swallowed the bril- 

 liant body. Then I snatched boot 

 and fish from the water and, with 

 wild whoops, dashed up the bank re- 

 gardless of injuries to my unshod 

 foot. 



