ispense with
provisions, adding varied information in regard to beer, which in my
case was useless, for I could not touch it. To go astray under such
auspices would be worse than inexcusable.
Landro we found a very different place from Cortina. Instead of having
a large church and a number of small hotels, it consists entirely of
one large hotel and a very tiny church. It does not lie in a broad, open
basin, but in a narrow valley, shut in closely by the mountains. The
hotel, in spite of its size, is excellent, and a few steps up the valley
is one of the finest views in the Dolomites. To the east opens a deep,
wild gorge, at the head of which the pinnacles of the Drei Zinnen are
seen; to the south the Durrensee fills the valley from edge to edge, and
reflects in its pale waters the huge bulk of Monte Cristallo. It is such
a complete picture, so finished, so compact, so balanced, that one
might think a painter had composed it in a moment of inspiration. But
no painter ever laid such colours on his canvas as those which are seen
here when the cool evening shadows have settled upon the valley, all
gray and green, while the mountains shine above in rosy Alpenglow, as if
transfigured with inward fire.
There is another lake, about three miles north of Landro, called the
Toblacher See, and there I repaired the defeat of Misurina. The trout at
the outlet, by the bridge, were very small, and while the old fisherman
was endeavouring to catch some of them in his new net, which would not
work, I pushed my boat up to the head of the lake, where the stream came
in. The green water was amazingly clear, but the current kept the fish
with their heads up stream; so that one could come up behind them near
enough for a long cast, without being seen. As my fly lighted above them
and came gently down with the ripple, I saw the first fish turn and rise
and take it. A motion of the wrist hooked him, and he played just as
gamely as a trout in my favourite Long Island pond. How different
the colour, though, as he came out of the water. This fellow was
all silvery, with light pink spots on his sides. I took seven of his
companions, in weight some four pounds, and then stopped because the
evening light was failing.
How pleasant it is to fish in such a place and at such an hour! The
novelty of the scene, the grandeur of the landscape, lend a strange
charm to the sport. But the sport itself is so familiar that one feels
at home--the motion of
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