THE OREGON SPOETSMAN 121 



second place, fish don't bite on this tide. And in the third place, 

 if you did hook one he'd smash those whips you're usin' first 

 flop. Throw 'em overboard and use a hand line Hke we do." 

 We drifted apart. 



"I beg your pardon," said Jim, with an apologetic air. "You 

 see this is our first try and we are a little green," and he added 

 after a pause, "I hope we're not in the way here." 



I was a little peeved. The thing was getting on my nerves. 

 I began unstringing my rig again. 



"Going to try the brass?" queried Jim. 



"No, I'm not going to try the brass, nor the nickel, nor the 

 feather, nor the lead. I'm going to put on the number five cop- 

 per, as we originally intended, and I'm going to fish on this run- 

 ning tide in spite of all the sea weed and all the advice in Tilla- 

 mook county. And I'm going to catch fish. And I'd advise you 

 to do the same." 



We got back to our first love, and out went the hooks. We 

 were under way again. 



"See that old dolphin," said Jim, catching the spirit. "Be- 

 fore we get there I'll have a — " 



He never finished the sentence. I heard the hum of his reel. 

 I saw his rod twice whack the gunwale. I saw him clutch at the 

 grips as his line went out in long spurts. I saw him jump to his 

 fee't, and the light of joy was in his eyes. That inexplicable joy 

 known only to fishermen. The game was on ! 



"Owee!" he yelled, "look at that!" 



Forty yards away a huge, silvery monster cleared the water 

 and hit it again with a mighty splash. 



What followed I shall not attempt to describe. To you who 

 have caught salmon, the story is old. And those who have not, 

 must get the same experience before they will understand. Like 

 all big Chinooks, fresh from the sea, and hooked in salt water 

 on light tackle, this fish of Jim's fought with every ounce of his 

 strength. He rushed and he leaped. He circled about the boat. 

 He dove deep and "sulked" for many minutes. He was. often 

 worked carefully to the boat, only as often to rush away again 

 leaving a path of bubbles in his wake. 



At last, after a long, hard contest, and to Jim's intense relief, 



