shrift. He was lifted
into the boat by the tail, the triangles came out easily under the
knife, and off went a well-mended fish of about 13 lb. That is to say,
I call him a fish; the boatmen decline to render even this nominal
honour, and I appear in the returns of yesterday as having killed one
fish, whereas I had landed half a dozen.

And now followed an unproductive hour, at the end of which there were
two ineffectual pulls, one at the Nicholson fly, the other a second or
two later at the bait. The former was not enough to rattle off the
stone from the loop of line; the latter ran out a yard and merely
ticked the winch. The sunshine was not treating us as handsomely as
the snowstorm, for by this time yesterday we had brought off three
engagements. However, the day was not over, and we landed for lunch,
believing that better fortune would be vouchsafed--lunch, too, in open,
warm sunshine.

Harling and the notebook were resumed, and lest we should settle down
too readily to monotony, a flutter down stream betrayed the whereabouts
of the Black Dog, betrayed also a wretched little kelt (about 5 lb.),
called in these parts a "kelt grilse." So far had I noted when the
left rod, upon which the fly had been replaced by a sand eel, strained
for a gallant run. Down on the thwart went book, pencil, and
spectacles, and I had an exciting five minutes in midstream with an
undoubted "fish." He fought like a Trojan--and then the line fell
slack. The fish was off. How do they escape from these triangles?
Caught lightly by one hook, I suppose, and, as a result, an easily
broken hold.

The sun was for a couple of hours too bright, and four o'clock came
with nothing to record. Only one hour left. Then a succession of
short runs from non-fastening fish, and one lightly hooked on the fly,
which came away at the initiatory tightening. By now half an hour
remained, and an exciting finish consumed it. I do not admit that it
was wasted; I only mean that "fish" was not the cause. Kelts were.
The centre rod with the Black Dog briskly rang me up, and I leaped to
the call with "Got him!" "So have I," cried the head man. Tom Thumb
had found a fish, and we were each busy for a while. The men had all
they could do to get the boat to land and winch in the two loose lines.
But it was done, as usual, promptly and cleverly. I was too intent
upon my own fish, the heaviest I had battled with that day, to see how
it was done; suffice