move the boat with this object in view when the salmon suddenly moved, and moved to some purpose. Neither I nor C. had ever seen anything in the movements of any fish to compare with the strength and rapidity of that rush. The salmon went at a terrific pace, straight up the river as hard as he could go for about 110 yards, and then leaped twice, straight up into the air, about a couple of feet above the surface of the water, broadside on, showing that he was a tremendously thick fish. At the very moment he was in the air the reel fell off the rod, and at that moment I became conscious, although, of course, I had lowered the point of the rod when he leaped, that the great fish had parted company with me for ever. “He has gone,” I said, as with a sickening sense of disappointment I reeled in the slack line in the faint hope that he might still be on, having turned and come down the river again--but no, it was not to be, and the line soon came back to me, the cast having been broken about a foot from the end. C. said not a word, nor did I for a time. No mere words are appropriate on such an occasion and cannot diminish the loss of a fresh-run spring salmon, so marvellously brilliant and beautiful, and in this particular instance probably half as large again, perhaps twice as large, as the biggest fish I have ever landed during the time, now more than forty years, that I have been a salmon fisher. Within a short time I started fishing again, but the day was done and we saw nothing more. After the catastrophe I found that the reel had been loose, and that the wedges used to make it fit closely to the rod had shifted and finally fallen out in consequence of the rushes made by the fish. I also learnt later on that the rod did not belong to my host, and that by a misunderstanding this rod, which happened not to have been taken down, but was among the other rods ready for use, was given to me. Probably, had I been warned about the reel, I could have prevented it from falling off, though whether this would have made any difference it is impossible to say, as many a good fish has broken the cast by falling back on it after jumping at the end of a long rush, and the more line there is out the more danger of losing the fish when he jumps. [Illustration: “THE SALMON LEAPED TWICE STRAIGHT UP INTO THE AIR.” By V. R. BALFOUR-BROWNE.]