We all watched
eagerly as the pointer went down.
"Twenty-two; no, it's twenty-three and just a little bit over. I know it
is the best fish taken from Sweetapple River this year. They haven't been
running any larger," I said.
Then we all sat down again and admired the fish. Frenchy and I lighted
our pipes, and I took the little Silver Doctor from the leader. It was
just the least bit frayed but still very pretty and bright, with its
golden floss and silver tinsel, its gold pheasant tips, blue hackles and
multicolored wings.
"I will be glad if you will keep this fly," I told Miss Jelliffe. "You
must hold it as a souvenir of your first salmon."
"Thank you! I will keep it always," she answered, brightly. "It will be a
reminder of much kindness on your part, and of this beautiful day. Just
look there, above the pool, where the little spruces and firs are
reflected in the water that sings at their feet on its way down. How
still it is and peaceful. Oh! It has been a glorious day!"
I must acknowledge that she was very charming in the expression of her
enjoyment. There is nothing _blase_ about this handsome young girl. I
followed the hand she was pointing. The river above was like some shining
road with edges jewelled in green and silvery gems. High up a great
osprey was sailing in the blue, while around us the impudent Canada jays
were clamoring. From this spot one could see no houses, owing to a bend
in the river, and we were alone in a vastness of wilderness beauty, with
none but Frenchy near us, who looked like a benign good soul whose gentle
eyes shared in our appreciation.
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