seasons, and, because I was poor, had given up. My anxiety to return to that water (for it was this water), plus the deep affection I had for MacArthur, Winded me to the second part of his demand.
In the course of a few posts MacArthur was the better by a rod for the season and I by twelve guests' tickets. During those early days, while we waited for May to come round, MacArthur's confidence in and reverence for my knowledge and skill were highly gratifying. He had never used a dry fly, and although he had not his equal as a wet-fly fisherman, he was filled with that fear of the chalk-stream and that humbleness of spirit of which I have spoken. He had looked upon those who do their business in clear waters as belonging to an order of beings higher altogether than his own. He abased himself before me as an initiate designate of some esoteric cult might abase himself before its Grand Lama. He received my lightest word on dry-fly angling as if it were a revelation, and, without a word of complaint, permitted me to spend many pounds of his money on the purchase of a valuable rod, reel, line, and other things. He said that if he were permitted by Heaven's help and mine to slay one trout out of that river before he returned into the Orient, he would die blessing my name.
