In our ruksacks we carried a kettle, some bread, butter, and
coffee, and a change of shoes and stockings, for what with wading
through streams and stepping into bogs we were pretty wet about the
feet before the day was ended.
On the first day we went and discovered the head of the gorge, high up
on the mountain side, and each day after that we explored a new bit of
it till we had followed it down to where it opened on to the valley at
its foot.
The gorge was a deep cleft in the mountain-side of dark, frowning
cliffs, with a bright, clear mountain stream running along among the
rocks and stones at its bottom.
* * * * *
THE TROUT STREAM.
The farmer had told us there were no fish in this stream, and nobody
ever fished there. However, I thought I might as well use my rod,
having brought it all the way there, so, pretending to myself that
there was a fish in a swirling little pool behind a great rock, I
crept and crawled to a spot from which I could, unseen by the fish,
throw my fly so that it could float quietly in the current and be
carried round the corner.
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