what do you say to that? Are there any
trout in Willows' waters?"

"Yes, splendid! We ought to get some fish to-night. Here, where are
your creels?"

"Haven't brought them," said Will. "We are going to help fill yours."

And they did, for the fish rose to nearly every cast, quarters and
half-pounders, the artist to his great delight landing two both well
over a pound, for it was one of those evenings when, as if warned by
their natural instinct of a fast to come, the trout rose at every fly,
taking in their heedless haste the artificial as well as the true, and
only finding their mistake when gasping out their brief life upon the
bracken laid at the bottom of the artist's creel.

The trio fished on till the creel was nearly full, so intent upon their
sport that they paid no heed to the gathering clouds, Nature's
harbingers of the storm about to break among the hills, till a bright
flash of light darted down the vale, followed almost instantaneously by
a mighty crash, which went roaring and rumbling on in echoes, to die
distantly away.

"Hold on!" shouted Will. "Look sharp; we shall have to run. It'll be
wet jackets as it is. I say, Mr M, lucky I put away your traps!
Wasn't I right?"

"Right you were, young 'un," cried the artist, making a whizzing noise
as he wound up his multiplying winch. "But I'm not going to bark my
shins running amongst these stones. Now then, boys. 'Tention!
Shoulder rods! Right face! March!" And he led off at a rapid rate
down by the side of the stream. "Here, lads, that's heavy," he cried at
the end of a few minutes, just as the rain began to make chess pawns
upon the surface of the pools. "I'll carry it now."

"No, no," cried Will. "But let's shelter here for a few minutes. It's
only going to be a shower now."

He ran into where a great mass of slatey-looking rock stood out from the
perpendicular side of the gorge, heedless of the fact that it
necessitated splashing in through the shallow water, which nearly
covered his boots.

"Nice dry spot this," said the artist, laughing, as they stood in the
ample shelter.

"Oh, it is only wetting one's feet," said Will. "We are quite dry
upstairs."

"Oh, I don't mind," said the artist. "My word! It is coming down. How
it hisses! But you are right: it won't last long."

In less than half an hour the sky was nearly clear again, but water
enough had fallen to make the stream which rushed by their feet rise
full five inc