526 



RECREATION 



away swimming round and round the Flat 

 Rock pool, as many misguided fish have 

 done, he started down-stream through the 

 rapids. Now the reel began to screech with 

 a vengeance and (metaphorically speaking) 

 the line went hissing through the rings. 

 There was no time to lose. Luke reached 

 down and I reached up, and in about two 

 seconds the rod was in his hand and he was 

 following the fish and taking in slack. After 

 much scrambling and sliding I reached the 

 top and by and by caught up to Luke, and 

 raced past him to the Red Pine pool. Here 

 was a nice sandy beach, where we had deter- 

 mined to land this salmon. The rod was 

 passed down to me, and after about fifteen 

 minutes' play he was so tired out that he 

 floated on his side and it was possible to reel 

 him in. Luke took the cork off the end of 

 the gaff, which, unfortunately, was a fancy 

 screw-on affair, instead of the regulation one 

 that is whipped to the shank, and stepped 

 unhesitatingly into the chilly water up to his 

 knees. Now the fish was within reach, and 



Luke, of the sure eye and steady hand, made 

 his stroke and buried the gaff in the broad 

 shoulder. With a whoop and a yell he lifted 

 the great fish high in the air — then the gaff 

 broke off short at the ferrule, the salmon 

 splashed back into the water and the fly flew 

 into my face. Luke threw himself upon the 

 fish, I threw myself upon Luke, John piled 

 upon me, and after a lot of splashing and 

 frantic endeavor we crawled out upon the 

 bank, wet, dejected and salmonless. 



On another occasion, when fishing a cast 

 below the basin at the foot of the Grand 

 Falls, bruin once again intruded himself 

 upon me, unheralded and unexpected. If 

 you have not seen the Grand Falls of the 

 Nepisiguit you should take the first oppor- 

 tunity that presents itself of doing so, for I 

 know of no finer bits of wilderness scenery. 

 But on the morning in question I was not 

 troubling myself about scenery, because the 

 fish were rising freely and they occupied all 

 my attention. Two grilse had fallen victims 

 to a small silver doctor and, as I was alone, 



THE GRAND FALLS OF THE ST. JOHN — AN EFFECTUAL BARRIER TO THE "RUNNING" SALMON 



