160 
WILD NORWAY. 
slacking the line, and jumped twice within ten yards. 
I had his measure and gave it him hot, though it was 
minutes ere the middle hickory began to tell, and quite 
ten before he was under control. And then there were 
yet ugly rushes and final struggles ere the big trout 
could be towed, unresisting, towards the pebbly shore. 
This was my first big fish in Norway, and a hand¬ 
some fellow he was—a yellow trout of 4-1 lbs. weight, 
22| inches in length, and in the pink of shape and 
condition. Truly such a prize, as he lies still gasping 
on the dark-green moss and in the fresh radiance of his 
rainbow hues, forms a picture one does not soon forget. 
We have landed many a good trout since then ; two- 
pounders from a score of Scandinavian streams and 
lakes; two-and-a-half, not seldom; three pounds and 
upwards, more rarely. But never yet have we beaten 
our first record of 44 lbs. in that grand trout of Tyris- 
letten.* 
Of the sport these streams have afforded, and 
the contests they have witnessed between a lusty trout 
on the one side, with gossamer gut on the other, it 
is needless to descant. Hardly a fight, but where 
conditions everlastingly vary ; but the result is mostly 
the same. Given a good hold and careful handling, 
the finest of gut will carry the day, and ere it is time to 
reel-up in the cool evening, the creel is full. There 
is no night here, and as the cariole jogs homeward 
under sunlit skies seen through a mountain-setting, one 
is really inclined to believe, for the moment, that 
* I leave this as written some years ago ; but it will presently be 
apparent to the reader that the “ record ” has since been beaten again 
and again. Ay ! twice-over, and once thrice. 
i 
