stantly occurring. Indeed, the successful capture of a fish that rises to your fly is as frequently the exception as the rule. And this is not to be wondered at when it is remembered that the hook used is not larger than the smallest pin when curved. When the fish rises to this diminutive object, and the angler "strikes," the chances are at least two to one that it will slip out of the huge jaws of the eager fish. And even when the hook catches some part of the exposed surface, it is quite as likely to catch where the fibre is tender as where it is tough. But if hooked just right, there is still the contingency of imperfect tackling, a misshapen hook, a brittle loop, a frayed leader, or a deceptive line; and superadded to all these, are the hidden rocks against which line or leader is often chafed up to the point of separation. With these and many other chances against the angler, the wonder is not that he often loses a fish, but that he succeeds in killing so many. And yet it is this uncertainty

- these always possible and frequently occurring contingencies which give to the science its greatest charm, and make success something of which to be proud.

CHAPTER XI.

SALMON HABITS AND A LOST BATTLE.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.-[Old adage.

OTWITHSTANDING our suc

cess, we are every day made conscious that we are too late for the best fishing. Some of the pools from which half a score of salmon could be taken in a day previous to the middle of July, are now barren of fish; and in many others, a day may be consumed in achieving what could then be accomplished in an hour. into fresh water early in Spring freshets are over; and then they show their greatest life and voracity. From that time on to the middle of July, they are most active and rise most readily to any object which attracts their attention. After that when they have been a month or more in fresh water-they become somewhat sluggish and less disposed to rise. Besides, the water becomes so shallow and transparent that the very shadow of the line is

Salmon begin to run June, or so soon as the

distinctly visible; and no fish is more shy or more easily frightened. To take a salmon under these circumstances requires the exercise of the greatest patience, and to take them in any great numbers is proof of the very highest skill. I would never advise any one who has to make a long journey to reach salmon waters to go later than the first of July, except on compulsion. Better fish in August than not fish at all, but you will be sure of a larger catch in one week toward the close of June than during a whole month after the fifteenth of July.

It is, however, no proof that there are no salmon in a pool because they do not rise. I have more than once cast all day in a pool alive with leaping salmon-above, below and all around me-without being able to lure one to my hook. This is one of the peculiarities of the fish I cannot fathom. My own experience is the experience of every one who has ever spent even a week upon a salmon river.

It is generally believed that salmon eat nothing after they enter fresh water; and their apparently empty stomachs when dissected are cited in proof of the theory. But if they eat nothing, and have no desire to do so, why do they rise to a living or artificial object? Why do they often even gorge the fly and rise to a minnow, or take a minnow or a fly when trolled under the surface, or when

dropped as bait is ordinarily dropped in still fishing? The general absence of food from the stomach is seemingly conclusive of the total abstinence theory; but better believe anything marvelous or improbable than that a salmon lives through six months or any number of months of the year in a state of constant activity, and during the exhaustive process of generation, without imbibing any particle of food. It it just as improbable that it does so as it would be unnatural.

But I have neither the wish nor the knowledge requisite to enter upon an intelligent discussion of any of the habits or peculiarities of this fish. This is neither the purpose nor the intent of these rambling letters.

In my last I referred to some of the more noteworthy incidents which occurred to Gen. ARTHUR. Others had almost equally exciting experiences. None of our party had greater skill, or were made happy by greater success, than Mr. DUN. He kept even pace with the General, and often distanced myself. Of course I attributed this to his longer practice; it could have been nothing else! But while he had his successes he also had his mishaps. The most notable was this: He had hooked a very large fish at the camp-pool, which began the fight magnificently. I never saw a fish leap more spitefully or make more determined efforts to

escape. But he was managed so splendidly that at the end of an hour and a half all the lookers-on voted him sure to be bagged. Directly below the pool where he was struck, and to which he had been restricted, was a heavy rapids which the canoe-men were anxious, if possible, to avoid. They advised, therefore, rather than to allow the fish to shoot these rapids, that he should be, as gently as possible, coaxed over to a cove of deep water lying behind some large rocks above the rapids and near the middle of the pool. This advice was taken, and in effecting the change of base the fish gave a series of leaps which revealed the full dimensions of the largest salmon, by many pounds, I ever saw. When asked for an estimate of his weight, the Indian gaffer simply held up his paddle to indicate that that, in his opinion, was about his measure. The desired cove was securely reached. The fish changed his tactics from leaping to sulking, as they most generally do in deep, still water, and at the end of two full hours was seemingly as far from being a dead fish as at any moment during the struggle. Thinking he would be able to manage him better and hold him more comfortably on the rock than in the canoe, Mr. DUN made the transfer, sitting down as coolly and unflurried as if he were casting up the interest on a long note instead of fighting a hard battle with