38 ANGLING IN GREAT BRITAIN. 



Of Devonshire I have previously said that it still holds 

 a first place amongst the trout-fishing counties to which 

 the ordinary angler has access. The trout, if small, arc 

 plentiful, and there is a beauty in the county itself, and 

 a charm in the forwardness of vegetation that make Devon 

 very popular among anglers. The streams of Dart- 

 moor may be taken as typical of the kind of trout stream 

 which may be more properly termed a brook. Dartmoor, 

 in fact, like its fishing, is a thing of itself; a wonderfully 

 interesting solitude both for the rambler and angler. When 

 the March brown is in its prime — although that fly may not 

 be the best for Devonshire, where the anglers pin their faith 

 to Meavy red, and blue upright, and hackles of various 

 kinds — is the time to make for Dartmoor. Starting from 

 the quiet town of Tavistock, which lies in a hollow, with 

 the bare Cornish hills on one side and the billowy moorland 

 on the other, you travel up-hill to Princetown, passing on 

 the way little streams across which a strong man might 

 easily leap, and out of which many a dish of small trout 

 will be taken. These silvery streamlets tumble down from 

 ledge to ledge, coming from various directions, purling 

 through rocky little glens crowned with mystic tors, and 

 all bound eventually to the Channel. The trout on 

 the heights of Dartmoor are so small that the angler for 

 awhile is ashamed to take them — ashamed until he learns 

 how delicious the fingerlings are as served up by the 

 Devonshire cooks, more after the fashion of whitebait, than 

 any member of the Sahno family. For a man sound of 

 wind and limb, well shod, with a small basket at his back 

 and a light fly rod in his hand, with no necessity for carry- 

 ing a landing-net, or being burdened with wading stockings 

 or boots, a day on Dartmoor, when the wind blows well 

 from the west on a March or April day, is a real treat, 



