as handsome a fresh-run sea trout of 9
lb. as mortal eye ever feasted upon.

The Norwegian angler, as I soon discover, has to regard the sun not
precisely as would a worshipper. It has so fatal an effect upon the
pools that he gets into the habit of laying aside his rod, and waiting,
book in hand, pipe in mouth, excursionising in the land of Nod, or
practising any other pursuit that may occur to him for filling up the
time. In the southern streams that are not affected by the melting of
glaciers, and that have a habit of quickly running out to a no-sport
level when the winter snows have disappeared (confining the fishing
often to about one calendar month), the cloudless days, glorious though
they are to the tourist, are a dire affliction to him. Such a river as
this which gives me friendly welcome to the Norway fish is generally in
fair volume, and I see it tinted with a recent rise of some feet. In a
grey light, and from the water level, it seems to have a milky
discolour that bodes ill; but get upon one of the knolls when the sun
shines, and you have an exquisite blue, or rather variety of blues,
according to the depth of the water, or reflection from the changing
lights. There is a sweet silence in all this out-of-the-world valley,
and you can always lift your eyes to the eternal hills that look so
near, yet are so far, and smile at the thought of how very small you
are. The head gillie here is a Norsker, who makes nothing of dashing
into a whirlpool to gaff a salmon, and he once followed a fish to whom
the rod had been cast under a bridge where the torrent madly swirled,
came out safe on the other side, and triumphantly killed in the open.
My friend had many a story to tell of his smartness and knowledge, born
of a true love of sport. He once hooked a salmon at dusk, the man
standing by with the gaff. With one impetuous rush the fish raced down
the pool, through a long rapid and round a promontory, taking out line
until little was left. The angler held on grimly in the dark, and the
man, after grave cogitation, struck a match, leisurely made himself
acquainted with the angle of the line, and without a word moved away.
Possessed by an afterthought he, however, returned, struck another
light, and examined the quantity of line left upon the winch. Then he
walked off, and was heard climbing rocks and forcing his way through
the alders. After a time the line slackened and my friend reeled up;
but the fish was