The Trout in His Lair

1907

He Is an Alert and Elusive Unpictured Beauty

Whoever has had the privilege of lying at full length on some mossy overhanging bank while watching a large trout in his lair perceives that a true figure has yet to be drawn of him.

Even photography can give no hint of the wavy circles from the spotted dorsal fin undulating loosely athwart the broad back, of the perpetual fanning of the pectoral fins, of the rapacious gills opening and closing, the half open round mouth, the luminous brown eye, the ceaseless slow vibration of the powerful tail, nor can pen adequately describe the startling suddenness of the dart at some idle fly touching the surface, the quick return to the old position and the resumption of the poise with head elevated at a slight angle, pectorals all tremulous and floating watery circles emanating from every slight motion of the body.

It is also worth while to watch a trout rush four feet up a perpendicular fall of water, pause, tremble violently all over and in a moment throw himself clear of the stream and fall into the basin above at an elevation of about three feet more. — Arthur P. Silver in Outing Magazine.