over them
were the small, bright carmine spots that gave him one of his _aliases_,
the "Speckled Trout." Beneath he was usually of a pale cream color, but
now that he had put on his best clothes his vest was bright orange, and
some of his fins were variegated with red and white, while others were a
fiery yellow. He was covered all over with a suit of armor made of
thousands and thousands of tiny scales, so small and fine that the eye
could hardly separate them, and from the bony shoulder-girdle just
behind his gills a raised line, dark and slightly waving, ran back to
his tail, like the sheer-line of a ship. There were other fishes that
were more slender and more finely modelled than he, and possibly more
graceful, but in him there was something besides beauty--something that
told of power and speed and doggedness. He was like a man-o'-war dressed
out in all her bunting for some great gala occasion, but still showing
her grim, heavy outlines beneath her decorations. His broad mouth opened
clear back under his eyes, and was armed with rows of backward-pointing
teeth, so sharp and strong that when they once fastened themselves upon
a smaller fish they never let him go again. The only way out from
between those jaws was down his throat. His eyes were large and bright,
and were set well apart; and the bulge of his forehead between them
hinted at more brains than are allotted to some of the people of the
stream. Altogether, he was a most gallant and knightly little fish, and
it would certainly have been a pity if he hadn't found a mate.

[Illustration: _Nesting Grounds._]

And now he started the third time for the gravelly shallow, and
travelled as he had never travelled before in all his life. Streams are
made to swim against--every brook trout knows that--and the faster they
run, the greater is the joy of breasting them. The higher the
water-fall, the prouder do you feel when you find you can leap it. And
our friend was in a mood for swimming, and for swimming with all his
might. Never had he felt so strong and vigorous and so full of life and
energy, and he made his fins and his tail go like the oars of a
racing-shell. Now he was working up the swift current of a long rapid
like a bird in the teeth of the wind. Now he was gathering all his
strength for the great leap to the top of the water-fall. And now,
perhaps, he rested for a little while in a quiet pool, and presently
went hurrying on again, diving under logs and f