"I liked it," she said. "But my legs went to sleep and are just waking up. Tell me things. There were fish rising bold—jumping clean out—making the water boil. But you weren't interested in them." "It was noticeable," said Pritchard, "and perhaps[Pg 67] you noticed that one fish was feeding alone. He blew his little rings—without fear or hurry—none of the other fishes dared come anywhere near him. He lives in the vicinity of that pointed rock. The water there is probably deep and, in the depths, very cold. Who knows but a spring bubbles into a brook at the base of that rock? The fish lives there and rules the water around him for five or six yards. He is selfish, fat, and old. He feeds quietly because nobody dares dispute his food with him. He is the biggest fish in this reach of the brook. At least, he is the biggest that is feeding this morning. Now we know what kind of a fly he is taking. Probably I have a close imitation of it in my fly box. If not, we shall have to make one. Then we must try to throw it just above him—very lightly—float it into his range of vision, and when he sucks it into his mouth, strike—and if we are lucky we shall then proceed to take him." [Pg 67] Gay, passionately fond of woodcraft, listened with a kind of awe. "But," she said, seeing an objection, "how do you know he weighs three pounds and over?" "Frankly," said Pritchard, "I don't. I am gambling on that." He shot her a shy look. "Just hoping. I know that he is big. I believe[Pg 68] we shall land him. I hope and pray that he weighs over three pounds." [Pg 68] Gay blushed and said nothing. She was beginning to think that Pritchard might land a three-pounder as well as not—and she had light-heartedly agreed, in that event, to become the Countess of Merrivale. Of course, the bet was mere nonsense. But suppose, by any fleeting chance, that Pritchard should not so regard it? What should she do? Suppose that Pritchard had fallen victim to a case of love at first sight? It would not, she was forced to admit (somewhat demurely), be the first instance in her own actual experience. There was a young man who had so fallen in love with her, and who, a week later, not knowing the difference—so exactly the triplets resembled each other—had proposed to Phyllis. They drew the guide boat up onto the meadows and Pritchard, armed with a scoop-net of mesh as fine as mosquito-netting, leaned over the brook
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