desire. The man, it seems, saw the fish in the tail of
the rapid, tied a stone to a piece of cord, threw it over the line,
hauled in hand over hand, and gaffed the salmon, a beautiful fish of 25
lb. Then he went up and told the angler, who was still holding on to
the tight line, for it was jammed and would not answer to a pull. A
consultation followed, and the man went back round the corner, and
discovered that the line would slip from below. The angler thereupon
cut it at the winch and the line was recovered. This is the kind of
adventure, demanding resource upon the spot, and experience in every
move on the board, that so piquantly spices angling in Norwegian rivers
of this kind, where the ordinary methods of fishing with the fly are
practised.

On the morning when the breechloaders are cracking amongst the coveys
there is incipient frost, followed by a blazing sun, which finishes off
the remnant of new snow which did not melt yesterday; and there is a
violet hue upon the shallower water which ought to look brown.
Beautiful to look at, but fatal, they tell me, is this reflected tint.
The shade of the alders and the velvet pile of the mosses induce a fit
of idleness; it is only the flycatchers, in great numbers, that are
busy in the heat and glare, twittering as they hawk for insects, in
notes that suggest robin redbreast on a winter day. By and by the
clouds obscure the sun and we tackle our pools, with the result, for
myself, of sea trout of 7 1/2 lb. and 3 1/2 lb., and a miscellaneous
lot of a dozen and a half of brown trout whipped out on a small cast in
the evening hour. Before this happens, however, I sit me down for a
spell, and, in pursuance of a determination to make these notes as
practical as can be consistently done, jot down the following sketches
of pool types as they present themselves to my friendly vision. They
will answer, I dare believe, for many a river in Scandinavia.

i. This is a true boiler, a torrential pool never at rest. It charges
down amongst huge masses of rock, and just where the descent is
comparatively easy the inevitable salmon trap is fixed. Sometimes the
salmon takes in the very boil, if you cast fly right into the milky
tossings, and believe me you need not strike. Hooking is quite an
automatic affair if the fish comes. Downward it goes at speed, and
your man will have to steady you maybe as you follow amongst the
stones, at least until the rapid has become something l