There was a heavy tide running, and my



92 The Angler's Secret

line, notwithstanding the little dipsy at
the end of the leader, stretched out as
soon as I raised the lead from the bay
bottom, and as I reeled in, I could
see 'the palmer dancing along on the
surface.
When the hooks came within ten feet
of the boat, I discovered Mr. Fluke. He
glided along swiftly about a foot under
water, and when directly under the fly
darted up and snapped it in his great
mouth with quite the dash and accuracy
of a three-pound black bass. And all
this in water fully fifteen feet deep !

Well, I struck him with that same in-
stinctive and impulsive wrist movement
we brook-trout fishermen know so well,
and the palmer's hook point went into
his stout upper lip as clean and fair as
ever any well-directed barb pinioned the
very fish it was sharpened for.
The fight that followed amazed my
fellow boatmen, and so unnerved half a
dozen German hand-liners in a neighbor-



The Fluke that Took a Fly 93

ing craft that they gave up their play for
the day.
To think a fluke would so degrade him-
self as to take a sweet -water bait on the line
of a fool fishing in salt water with a four-
ounce fly rod was too much for the hand-
liners, and they forsook our company.
