u can't fight him as hard as you can a trout.
Let him run. When he gets that big black fin up crossways of the stream
he pulls like a ton. After a while he will begin to go deep; then you
want to lift him gently all the time, until in a few minutes you can get
the net under him. I would rather fish grayling than trout, although
some think trout fishing is more fun.

"Now look at that fellow jumping over there under the bushes. He's
rising right in the same place. You walk around there at that little
sand bar, and float your fly right over him and see what happens."

Jesse did as instructed, Billy following a little distance behind him.
Whipping his fly backward and forward a few times to dry it well, Jesse,
who was really a good fisherman for his years, managed to land the fly
just short of the bushes, so that it floated down directly over the
rising fish.

There came a sudden splash and an excited shout from Jesse. "I've got
him!" exclaimed he.

"Maybe so," said Billy. "You had them other three, too, but you didn't
get them in the basket. Now you go easy, young man, and put this one
where I can get my hands on him."

Thus warned, Jesse played the fish gently and carefully, allowing it to
run down into the deep water, but keeping his rod tip up all the time
and giving line when the fish surged too hard with the current. After
several minutes of careful work Billy waded in knee deep and slipped the
landing net under the fish--a beautiful specimen, of a pound and a half,
clean, fat, and very beautiful with its great spotted fin.

"There you are, son," said he. "That's your first grayling, isn't it?"

"It's my first one of this sort," said Jesse, bending over the fish.
"You know, I didn't catch either of those over on the Red Rock. Of
course, I have caught them up North on the Bell River, on the Arctic
Circle, but they are a deep-blue color up there and this fish is white,
or, anyhow, gray. He is just the same shape as far as I can see."

"Well, get back at your work now," said Billy. "This is the only
grayling stream left in the West. You are on it at the right time of the
year and the right time of the day. Ten years from now may be too late.
So catch a few--but not too many."

"You needn't fear," said Jesse. "If either of us boys brought in more
than half a dozen, Uncle Dick would give us a good calling down."

"Well, that's right enough, too," said Billy. "The state limit is twenty
pounds a day, but that's t