I was glad, therefore, at every opportunity to quit the canoe, and clambering as fast as I could over the slippery rocks, post myself ahead upon the point of some _batture_ or ledge of rocks, and cast the fly till the canoe came toiling painfully along. Great was my success, beautiful the dark pools, ever varying the limpid water. The treacherous banks of clay, so slippery that it was scarce possible to stand on them; the dark pines casting a gloomy shadow upon the water, the sombre depths where the current had worn away a cavern for the naiads of the watery realm, made together a picture never to be forgotten. While the innumerable trout were enough to gladden the heart of any true sportsman.
The day was passed and yet our journey not half done; we halted for the night as “The shades of eve came slowly down,” and Walton joined me with his rod while the tent was being pitched and the fire lighted. Glorious was our sport; many a brave fish rose and sunk, and rose to sink no more; either in that region the parent trout had not learned the infant song that in civilized localities they are accustomed to teach their children, or else the mothers did not know the latter were out; for certainly they were not aware of the concealment of the cruel hook under the seeming insect. They showed no fear and we no pity, till the call of “supper” found us with over a hundred fish, averaging a pound and a half.
In conscious innocence and happiness we retired; the fire was bright, the night was warm, the woods were still, the sand was soft, but oh! the sand flies. They came down upon us more innumerable than the locusts in Egypt, and if Pharaoh had only been tormented with them, he would have given up in one night. I tossed and turned and rolled about, hid my head under the blanket, and covered it up with my handkerchief. All to no use; they would still find some means of entrance, the little, invisible things; and they bit till my face seemed on fire. Their bite does not itch like a mosquito’s, but burns, and I never again shall despise a thing because it is small. Compelled to surrender all hope of sleep, I gathered the dying embers of the fire, and adding fuel, drove away the pests, while, at the same time, with infinite relish, I scorched our men, who, to my previous disgust, had been sleeping during my sufferings as though they were in paradise.