REE, CHAPTER 2.

SALMON-FISHING EXTRAORDINARY.

Norway, 14th July, 1868.

Yesterday was a peculiar day in my experience of salmon-fishing in
Norway.

The day was dull when I set out for the river, seven miles distant, in a
small boat, with a Norseman. A seven-miles' pull was not a good
beginning to a day's salmon-fishing, the weight of my rod being quite
sufficient to try the arms without that; but there was no help for it.
Arrived there I got a native, named Anders, to carry the bag and gaff.

Anders is a fair youth, addicted to going about with his mouth open,
with a mild countenance and a turned-up nose.

"Good weather for fishing, Anders," said I, in Norse.

"Ya," said he, "megit god," (very good).

This was the extent of our conversation at that time, for we came
suddenly on the first pool in the river; and I soon perceived that,
although the weather was good enough, the river was so flooded as to be
scarcely fishable.

And now began a series of petty misfortunes that gradually reduced me to
a state of misery which was destined to continue throughout the greater
part of that day. But Hope told me flattering tales--not to say
_stories_--for a considerable time; and it was not until I had fished
the third pool without seeing a fin that my heart began fairly to sink.
The day, too, had changed from a cloudy to a rainy one, and Anders' nose
began to droop, while his face elongated visibly.

Feeling much depressed, I sat down on a wet stone, in my wet garments,
and lunched off a moist biscuit, a piece of tongue, and a lump of
cheese. This was consoling, as far as it went, but it did not go far.
The misty clouds obliterated the mountains, the rain drizzled from the
skies, percolated through the brim of my hat, trickled down my nose, and
dropped upon my luncheon.

"Now we shall go up the river, Anders," said I. Anders assented, as he
would have done had I proposed going down the river, or across the
river, or anywhere in the wide world; for, as I said it in English, he
did not understand me. Evidently he did not care whether he understood
me or not!

Up the river we went, to the best pool in it. The place was a torrent--
unfishable--so deep that I could not wade in far enough to cast over the
spot where fish are wont to lie. In making a desperate effort to get
far in, I went over the boot-top; and my legs and feet, which hitherto
had been dry, had immediate cause to sympathise with the rest of my
per