The unexpected temptation
was too strong for him. He rose with a rush, and in an instant I
was fast to the best land-locked salmon of the year.
But the situation was not without its embarrassments. My rod
weighed only four and a quarter ounces; the fish weighed between six
and seven pounds. The water was furious and headstrong. I had only
thirty yards of line and no landing-net.
"HOLA! FERDINAND!" I cried. "APPORTE LA NETTE, VITE! A BEAUTY!
HURRY UP!"
I thought it must be an hour while he was making his way over the
hill, through the underbrush, around the cliff. Again and again the
fish ran out my line almost to the last turn. A dozen times he
leaped from the water, shaking his silvery sides. Twice he tried to
cut the leader across a sunken ledge. But at last he was played
out, and came in quietly towards the point of the rock. At the same
moment Ferdinand appeared with the net.
Now, the use of the net is really the most difficult part of
angling. And Ferdinand is the best netsman in the Lake St. John
country. He never makes the mistake of trying to scoop a fish in
motion. He does not grope around with aimless, futile strokes as if
he were feeling for something in the dark. He does not entangle the
dropper-fly in the net and tear the tail-fly out of the fish's
mouth.
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