G6 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS 



ever, is irregular, and independent in its coming" of any- 

 palpable or calculable cause. The ephemerae may appear 

 in their thousands while snowflakes drive on a bitter 

 east wind. The next day is mild and balmy, yet not 

 an insect appears. Some days the "hatch" may last an 

 hour — or even two, or more ; on others, it ceases in 

 five minutes. 



To the angler this is perplexing - , since no years of 

 experience will afford data on which to base a forecast. 

 He must perforce utilise what patience he possesses and 

 await, shivering on the bank, the psychological moment, 

 ever ready for instant action, should it arrive. 



Presently from the heavens appear a score of black- 

 headed gulls, sweeping to and fro across the waters. 

 They, like him, are on the watch for a hatch of March- 

 browns ; but they also lack data — or instinct fails. Ten 

 minutes later, the gulls have gone. The angler may 

 rest assured that there will be no "hatch" that day. 

 But such incidents are the exception, not the rule. 

 Generally speaking, the advent of those gulls foretells 

 a hatch. Within a very few seconds the whole water- 

 surface will have become alive with swarming ephemerae. 

 From the gravelly depths beneath, ascend thousands — 

 aye, millions of newly-born insects, each floating perkily 

 upright ; great brown fellows, drying and straightening 

 their yet crumpled wings in the life-giving sunshine — 

 (or sleet !). Anon they essay a tentative flight, fluttering 

 a few yards, again to alight on the smooth-running 

 stream. Yet so light are they, so buoyant and to the 

 manner born, that they pass safely through rough bits 

 — they navigate rapids and never ship a sea. 



Poor ephemerae ! now comes the harvest for bird and 

 fish ; alike from above and below, those light-hearted 



