But if our acclimatisers have failed with salmon, fortune has been kind to their efforts with trout. Forty years ago there was no such fish in the islands. Now from north to south the rivers and lakes are well stocked, while certain waters may be said with literal truth to swarm with them. Here, they are the brown trout so well known to anglers at home; there, they are the rainbow kind, equally good for sport. At present the chief local peculiarity of both breeds seems to be the size to which they frequently attain. They are large enough in the rivers; and in many lakes they show a size and weight which could throw into the shade old English stories of giant pike. Fish of from fifteen to twenty-five pounds in weight are frequently captured by anglers. Above the higher of these figures, catches with the rod are rare. Indeed, the giant trout of the southern lakes will not look at a fly. Perhaps the best sport in lakes anywhere is to be had with the minnow. Trolling from steam-launches is a favourite amusement at Roto-rua. It seems generally agreed that in the rivers trout tend to decrease in size as they increase in numbers. The size, however, still remains large enough to make an English angler’s mouth water. So it has come about that the fame of New Zealand fishing has gone abroad into many lands, and that men come with rod and line from far and near to try our waters. Fishing in these is not always child’s play. Most of the streams are swift and chilling; the wader wants boots of the stoutest, and, in default of guidance, must trust to his own wits to protect him among rapids, sharp rocks, and deep swirling pools. He may, of course, obtain sport in spots where everything is made easy for the visitor, as in the waters near Roto-rua. Or he may cast a fly in the willow-bordered, shingly rivers of Canterbury, among fields and hedgerows as orderly and comfortable-looking as anything in the south of England. But much of the best fishing in the islands is rougher and more solitary work, and, big as the baskets to be obtained are, the sport requires enthusiasm as well as skill. Moreover, rules have to be observed. Licences are cheap enough, but the acclimatisation societies are wisely despotic, and regulate many things, from the methods of catching to the privilege of sale. In the main, the satisfactory results speak for themselves, though of course a certain amount of poaching and illegal catching goes on. In certain mountain lakes, by the way, one rule--that against spearing--has to be relaxed; otherwise the huge trout would prey upon their small brethren to such an extent as to stop all increase. So occasionally an exciting night’s sport may be enjoyed from a boat in one or other of the Alpine lakes. The boatmen prepare a huge torch of sacking or sugar-bags wound round a pole and saturated with tar or kerosene. Then the boat is rowed gently into six or eight feet of water, and the flaring torch held steadily over the surface. Soon the