son.

Anders' face became longer than ever. All the best pools in the river
were tried, but without success, and at last, towards evening, we turned
to retrace our steps down the valley. On the way I took another cast
into the best pool--going deeper than the waist into the water in order
to cast over the "right spot."

The effort was rewarded. I hooked a fish and made for the bank as fast
as possible. My legs were like solid pillars, or enormous sausages, by
reason of the long boots being full to bursting with water. To walk was
difficult; to run, in the event of the fish requiring me to do so,
impossible. I therefore lay down on the bank and tossed both legs in
the air to let the water run out--holding on to the fish the while. The
water did run out--it did more; it ran right along my backbone to the
nape of my neck; completing the saturation which the rain had hitherto
failed to accomplish. But I had hooked a fish and heeded it not.

He was a small one; only ten pounds; so we got him out quickly and
without much trouble. Yet this is not always the case. Little fish are
often the most obstreperous and the most troublesome. It was only last
week that I hooked and landed a twenty-eight-pound salmon, and he did
not give me half the trouble that I experienced from one which I caught
yesterday. Well, having bagged him we proceeded on our homeward way,
Anders' face shortening visibly and his nose rising, while my own
spirits began to improve. At another pool I tried again, and almost at
the first cast hooked an eighteen-pounder, which Anders gaffed after
about twenty-minutes' play.

We felt quite jolly now, although it rained harder than ever, and we
went on our way rejoicing--Anders' countenance reduced to its naturally
short proportions.

Presently we came to an old weir, or erection for catching fish as they
ascend the river, where lies one of our favourite pools. The water was
running down it like a mill-race. Pent up by the artificial dike, the
whole river in this place gushes down in a turbulent rapid. There was
one comparatively smooth bit of water, which looked unpromising enough,
but being in hopeful spirits now, I resolved on a final cast. About the
third cast a small trout rose at the fly. The greedy little monsters
have a tendency to do this. Many a small trout have I hooked with a
salmon fly as large as its own head. Before I could draw the line to
cast again, the usual heavy _wauble_ o