tage of the weight of water. I therefore got to 
a convenient piece of sandy shore as soon as 
I could, and there one of the men in about ten 
minutes from the time of hooking gaffed the 
mahseer, a nice red fish. It only weighed 9^ 
pounds, but it was my first in these waters, and 
I hoped its capture was a good omen. 
About 3 o’clock I started again and got a nice 
fish of \o l / 2 pounds on a silver spoon. This fish 
fought well and very nearly broke me among 
the rocks and snags. I found it was a great 
mistake to trust a native to gaff a fish. Much 
the best way I found was to play the fish, no 
matter how big, on to some shelving bank, and 
then send a native into the shallow water be¬ 
hind the fish to lift it out bodily by the gills. 
I have never seen a fish make a movement dur- 
ing this operation, and it is the only safe way 
of securing a mahseer of any size. 
The next day I found the river higher than 
before and heavy rains kept me in most of the 
time. I tried a few casts off some rocks and 
hooked a fish which ran out with 150 yards of 
line and kept me busy for three-quarters of an 
hour. T. hen a swivel broke. Of course it is 
always the big one which is not landed, but I 
would have given a good deal to have secured 
that fellow. 
By the end of the fifth day I was getting dis¬ 
appointed with the confluence. Up to then it 
had only given me fish of 9#, 16^, 9, n, 9 and 
6 pounds. I had moreover lost two of my best 
spoons and several fish had got away, of course, 
through no fault of my own.. I decided to shift 
camp and moved to Lepe. Here luck changed 
nobly, for on a 3^-inch copper and silver spoon 
I got a beauty of 45 pounds in the morning and 
in the evening one of 58 pounds. This fish came 
at me as I was trolling down rapid water. He 
rushed out about 130 yards of line at once, then 
he stopped for a bit, but went off again toward 
some very broken water below. 
Seeing this 1 at once made for the other side 
of the river and got him out of the run some¬ 
how, eventually landing him about i.ooo yards 
from whei e he was first hooked, and after about 
one and a half hours' play. So ended a good 
day only two fish, but total weight 103 pounds. 
The next spot in the river at which I did any 
good was at Nankin. Here I got fish of 7, 7, n, 
IO > 7 . II- 9 > 20 and 8 pounds; total weight, 211 
pounds, all caught on 3^2-inch silver and copper 
spoons. Then I got a fish of 60 pounds which 
gave great sport, affording me plenty of hard 
work for three hours. His length was 52 inches, 
girth 3014 inches. 
On some of this water I anchored the boat by 
means of a rope and a basket of stones, lifting 
( the anchor and working down stream a few 
yards at a time. Immediately a fish was hooked 
the rope attached to a paddle in readiness was 
flung over the side and we made for the shore 
I and fought the fish according to his tactics. 
When he was landed, or my tackle was broken, 
we picked up the paddle and began casting again. 
During my trip I was actually fishing twenty- 
eight days. 1 he total weight of fish caught was 
■ 475 pounds. Otters were a great nuisance, as 
I saw them in families of twos and fours swim¬ 
ming in the very pools I proposed fishing. 
From Myitkyina a launch took me through 
the first defile to Bhamo. This is a fine trip, 
but you are liable to have to wait, as you can¬ 
not go into the defile if there is more than 
• 
Kb:* 
twenty-five feet of water at Sinbo. It is quite 
an experience going through, as the defile is 
certainly not more than one hundred yards wide 
and the water has a very ugly look. 
,W. R. Gilbert. 
A Galician Trout Stream. 
The winter of 1906-07 will long be remem¬ 
bered in Galicia as one of the most severe ever 
experienced by even the oldest natives, and until 
quite recently many a white streak and patch 
BOON COMPANIONS. 
From a photograph by Fred Beal. 
of snow were to be seen in sheltered and un¬ 
sunned spots on the pine-clad slopes of the 
Tatra Mountains, which tower high above the 
old house where I am at present living. 
Beyond a wild boar drive in the neighboring 
forest and a few days’ black game shooting, we 
had enjoyed but very little sport during the long 
winter months; indeed, so frequent and severe 
had been the blizzards with us that' the keenest 
and hardiest of our men folk even had not ven¬ 
tured to travel far afield in sledge or on skis. 
W olves, driven by hunger into the towns and 
hamlets, had been shot on the very thresholds 
of the houses, and the whirling snow furnished 
a winding sheet to many a belated traveler. 
One evening in June, however, one of my 
host’s forest rangers reported that he had 
noticed trout rising very freely in the Donajec. 
Now, in spite of the fact that the house party 
numbered thirteen souls, I was the only mem¬ 
ber of it who knew even the rudiments of fly¬ 
fishing. Indeed, it is passing strange how few 
Austrians, Germans, or Poles have the slightest 
knowledge of the art, bottom-fishing of the 
crudest form being the only branch of pisca¬ 
torial sport indulged in by anglers of those 
nations. 
It was a delightful morning when my young 
friend B. and myself set out through the forest 
for the liver, two miles distant, and I fear we 
sorely tried both the temper and the limbs of 
the old henchman who accompanied us to carry 
the paraphernalia, and who did his utmost to 
keep pace with us. Every tree and bush seemed 
to hold a blackbird, thrush, redbreast or wood- 
warbler ; the glades and valleys re-echoed with 
the love songs of a thousand feathered choris¬ 
ters, and the call of an old blackcock reached 
our ears every now and again as we approached 
the margin of the vast woodland. 
At length we emerged from the forest and 
entered upon what would in Ireland be called a 
bog, through which ran a natural dyke or drain, 
fringed on either bank with willows and high 
sedges. In parts this drain widened out until 
it formed quite respectable ponds, to which mal¬ 
lard, teal, coots and other wildfowl frequently 
resort, and some very pretty shooting is some¬ 
times obtainable in the autumn and early winter. 
The moment the frost appears, however, away 
fly the fowl to other grounds. 
Twenty minutes’ walking across the bog and 
we arrived on the banks of the river. The rare¬ 
fied air of the mountains had sharpened our 
appetites, and before putting the rods together 
B. and I sat down under the shade of a willow 
to eat our second breakfast, while old Mikolaj, 
the forester, enjoyed his “kielbasy” and vodki a 
little apart. 
Although there was plenty of insect life on 
the water, very few fish were rising, and those 
were apparently small. A minute black gnat ap¬ 
peared to be the fly they were taking. I there¬ 
fore chose a beautifully tied fly which nearly 
resembled the insect in question, while my com¬ 
panion gave preference to a large and gaudy 
scarlet spider, declaring that no fish with the 
slightest pretensions to artistic taste could pos¬ 
sibly refuse such a beautiful looking lure. 
A more picturesque stream than the Donajec 
it would be difficult to imagine. Rising in the 
Tatra Mountains it twists and turns through 
miles of virgin forests, flower bedecked moor¬ 
lands and grassy valleys, tearing and rushing 
over rocks and through boulder-strewn gorges 
lost in the Wisla (Vistula). Having arranged 
to meet B. at the big willow at luncheon time, 
I left him to his own devices and commenced to 
fish up stream. 
D°r perhaps twenty minutes I rose not a fish 
save a four-inch dace, which was returned. Sud¬ 
denly, however, when casting under a shelving 
bank carpeted with beautiful turquoise-blue 
myasotis, my fly was sucked under, and upon 
striking, a goodly trout sprang out of the water. 
Dropping the point of my rod I prepared for 
a tough fight. Although comparatively free 
from weeds, the Donajec is filled with boulders 
