For a while they would race up from the depths and engulf them, but then they became more circumspect, as if they suspected that some questionable human intervention had caused this sudden glut of food. It seemed a little odd, chumming up wild fish, until I remembered that the hoppers had come from the lodge's vegetable patch, where they'd been making very short work of this evening's salad. Perhaps there was a sort of perfect symmetry to it after all: they were trying to steal our dinner, so we turned them into dinner for the trout.
Lyle now had Bill, who was very new to fly-fishing, wading up to the tail of the pool to try a cast or two. He should be certain of a fish in here! Sure enough, he caught two nice 17-inchers from the tail, then got a cast up into the main body of the pool. It had drifted only a foot or two when a huge mouth came up and closed on it. The fish dived for the bottom, Bill instinctively held on and the leader parted like cotton. That fish was 26 or 27 inches long-perhaps 8 lb! < previous - next >