SALMON-FISHING IN SURENDAL. 
89 
never till now realized the splendid dash, resource, and 
fighting power of a big fish in a big stream. 
With a single impulse the captive ran obliquely 
across the river, heading for the farther shore, while 
Ivar pulled hard to the nearer. The reel hummed 
rather than screamed, and as the boat touched the 
ground, I noticed that three-fourths of the line had left 
its barrel. With a foolish idea of checking the rush, 
I put my left hand over the running line, and simul¬ 
taneously two fingers were cut—or rather, burned to 
the quick, and at the same moment we saw the fish 
fling himself clear of the water close in to the far shore, 
and nearly a hundred yards away. It was scarcely 
possible to believe that any effective control could be 
exercised from such a distance. That jump, however, 
indicated the end of the first rush, and ere we had 
landed and run down the bank, a certain amount of 
the lost line had been regained. Only momentary were 
the pauses; again and again the hardly-recovered line 
was lost in an instant in another frantic, rush, as the 
fish continued running down stream, always close under 
the far bank, and keeping us going at top speed to 
overhaul him. At the end of a quarter of a mile my 
arms ached and trembled with the strain; but our 
adversary also felt the results of his grand effort. 
The second stage of the struggle consisted of a series 
of “ lie-ups,” each behind the shelter of a sunken boulder 
in strong water, and lasting about a minute, till a steady 
down-stream strain put a period to that, and presently 
a silvery gleam denoted distress—the fish was rolling 
on his side. So far the nature of the bank had offered 
no obstruction; we had had, in fact, a perfectly open 
