was washed as by the hose of a fire-engine,--only the bare poles
remained,--and the couch of springing boughs, that was to make Sleep
jealous and o'er-fond, became a bed fit only for amphibians. Still the
loosened floods came down; still the great cloud-mortars bellowed and
exploded their missiles in the treetops above us. But all nervousness
finally passed away, and we became dogged and resigned. Our minds
became water-soaked; our thoughts were heavy and bedraggled. We were
past the point of joking at one another's expense. The witticisms
failed to kindle,--indeed, failed to go, like the matches in our
pockets. About midnight the rain slackened, and by one o'clock ceased
entirely. How the rest of the night was passed beneath the dripping
trees and upon the saturated ground, I have only the dimmest
remembrance. All is watery and opaque; the fog settles down and
obscures the scene. But I suspect I tried the "wet pack " without being
a convert to hydropathy. When the morning dawned, the wives begged to
be taken home, convinced that the charms of camping-out were greatly
overrated. We, who had tasted this cup before, knew they had read at
least a part of the legend of the wary trout without knowing it.



V

SPECKLED TROUT

I

The legend of the wary trout, hinted at in the last sketch, is to be
further illustrated in this and some following chapters. We shall get
at more of the meaning of those dark water-lines, and I hope, also, not