THE WATERS OF CADER IDRIS 



fact it was above, and like most sea-trout rivers, it 

 would only have been fishable in times of fresh water. 

 It was for these staunch and enduring qualities we 

 so greatly esteemed it, though that of patience on our 

 part was sometimes severely tested. The sewin ran 

 from one to four pounds, and the occasional trout 

 generally exceeded the former weight, and all were 

 shapely, clean fish. How beautiful is the leap of a 

 freshly hooked sewin — a bar of silver in the sun- 

 shine ! A mediaeval Welsh bard thought a sewin in 

 the sunshine was the most beautiful sight in the world, 

 next to the ladies of Merioneth. We usually got a 

 brace or two a-piece (sewin, I mean), though both 

 red-letter days and yet more blank ones rise to 

 memory ; or more often perhaps, in the case of the 

 latter, have sunk into oblivion. 



Grey days in summer time, when waters are ruffling, 

 woods blowing, reeds bending, rushes or moor grasses 

 whistling in a warm wind, have always had for me a 

 strange and unfathomable charm. I cannot analyse 

 it, but can dimly trace its origin to boyish days on 

 Exmoor and feel its fixed abiding charm. It was the 

 same at twenty-five as at fifteen, at — well, we won't 

 go on ! Enough that it remains almost — for some- 

 thing of life's freshness must fade — as strong as ever. 

 Water, no doubt, is the centre of all the ingredients that 

 make up this particular landscape effect, which has for 

 me such a peculiar fascination. It has been pronounced 

 eccentric ! Familiars who cannot understand it have 

 stoutly protested that it has something to do with 

 fishing. I could not positively swear that its origin 

 was wholly dissociated from trout, but not in the almost 



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