So it was the
only thing to take us down this river. We couldn't bring hackwork or plastic or
aluminum up here. Suppose we met a troll, or a snowy egret or some other
Representative of the Owners? "Riding in something that just does the job,
huh? Needs no care, huh? Only cost you a week's wages, huh? No
into the water at the inside brink of a rocky bend made a sort of shady veranda
for a houseful of gaudy trout. One, two, three, four, five, too many to count,
mature brook trout well over a foot long moved out and paraded downstream
beside us, fully exposed in the sun, their red and blue and gold spots, their
black and white and red fins piercingly displayed.
How m————! What do you call that?"
As we moved
through the tail of the bend we met them going back indoors. What sauce. We
stopped. But it must be that I still did not believe we deserved them.
"We'll never touch them," I said.
"Why do you
them." I put on a Royal Coachman, dry.