With fly-rod and camera . we were obliged to alight andcross it afoot. Below this bridge is a large deep pool,worth a long journey to see. The water is as clear ascrystal, from five to twenty feet in depth, and through-out the summer is absolutely packed with sea trout. As I crossed the bridge I looked down into thewater below, and such a sight I never before trout were in thousands, and large ones most ofthem were, too. This pool is celebrated throughout thisportion of the island, and many fine catches have beentaken from it. In years past It has been poached badly,and is even n
With fly-rod and camera . we were obliged to alight andcross it afoot. Below this bridge is a large deep pool,worth a long journey to see. The water is as clear ascrystal, from five to twenty feet in depth, and through-out the summer is absolutely packed with sea trout. As I crossed the bridge I looked down into thewater below, and such a sight I never before trout were in thousands, and large ones most ofthem were, too. This pool is celebrated throughout thisportion of the island, and many fine catches have beentaken from it. In years past It has been poached badly,and is even now somewhat, but not to the degree thatit was a few years ago, a warden now almost constantlysupervising it. I am told that in 1884 or 1885 a manjigged out of this pool in one day three barrels of thosesplendid fish! We stopped for the night at a farm house hotelnear the bridge, kept by a Mr. McLean. Soon after ourarrival, haunted by the vision of the host of trout I hadseen, I took my rod and sauntered down to the bridge. 290 IVith Fly-Rod and Camera. to ascertain whether or not they were interested in en-tomology. I tried them with various hackles and other flies thatI thought would please them, but they had been edu-cated. They had seen similar offerings before, and fortwo hours I succeeded in landing only three or four smallfish, evidently unsophisticated new-comers. One or two of the neighboring farmers stood onthe bridge talking to each other and to me in, I haveno doubt, pure Gaelic, the language of most of the CapeBreton habitans, and evidently enjoying larks at my ex-pense in casting over the fish so industriously. What-ever they said, I could not understand a word, the Gaelictongue not having been mastered by me, so I paid noattention to them. After a while with a parting snickerthey left the bridge for their homes, and I was alone. The sun now hung above the western horizon, ahuge red sphere. The skies were covered with the mostgorgeous clouds of golden and purple hu
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Keywords: ., bookauthorsa, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectfishing
