of the great rivers, from which it migrates in spring, to seek a cooler temperature and to breed. The fishermen at Gratz say they spawn in the Mur, between March and May. In those I have caught at Laybach, which, however, were small ones, the ova were not sufficiently developed to admit of their spawning that spring. Marsigli says, that they spawn in the Danube in June. You have seen how violently they pursue their prey: I have never taken one without fish in his stomach; yet, when small, they will take a fly. In the Kleingraben, which is a feeder to the Laybach river, and where they are found of all sizes—from 20lbs. downwards—the little ones take a fly, but the large ones are too ravenous to care about so insignificant a morsel, and prey like the largest trout, often hunting in company, and chasing the small fish into the narrow and shallow streams, and then devouring them.—But I see your tackle is ready. As a more experienced angler in this kind of fishing, you will allow me to try my fortune with this fish. I still see him feeding; but I must keep out of sight, for he has all the timidity peculiar to the salmo genus, and, if he catch sight of me, will certainly not run at the bait. ORN.—You spin the bleak for him, I see, as for a great trout. O! there! he has run at it—and you have missed him. What a fish! You surely were too quick, for he sprung out of the water at the bleak. HAL.—I was not too quick; but he rose just as the bleak was on the surface, and saw me. POIET.—I think I see him moving in another part of the pool. HAL.—You are right; he has run again at the bleak, but only as it shone on the surface. He has taken it. ORN.—He fights well, and runs towards the side where the rock is. HAL.—Take the net and frighten him from that place, which is the only one where there is danger of loosing him. He is clear now, and begins to tire, and in a few minutes more he will be exhausted.—Now land him. POIET.—A noble fish! But how like a trout—exactly like a sea trout in whiteness, and I think in spots. HAL.—He is much narrower, or less broad, as you would immediately discover, if you had a sea trout here. But now we must try another pool, or the tail of this; that fish was not alone, and at the moment he took the bait, I think I saw the water move from the stir of another. Take your rod and fit your own tackle, Ornither; half the glory of catching this fish is yours, as you prepared the hooks. I see you are in earnest; the blood mounts in your face. Oh! oh! Ornither! you have pulled with too much violence, and broken your tackle. Alas! alas! the fish you hooked was the consort of mine: he will not take again. ORN.—The gut was bad, for I do not think I struck too violently. What a loss! How hard, to let the first fish of the kind I ever angled for escape me! HAL.—There are probably more: try again.