THE ENGLISH LAKE COUNTRY 



the white flash of a ghyll is obscured. Thank heaven 

 that our British moors and mountains are bared to the 

 sky and to the chasing clouds, and free to roam with- 

 out a hood of leaves, or worse still, of pine branches 

 over your head ! Afforested mountains are like a 

 beautiful statue over which a robe has been flung, 

 obscuring or distorting every curve. How absurd 

 it would be to say, * But look at the lovely dark green 

 of the garment,' or, in the case of a hard wood forest, 

 which I grant is infinitely preferable to the other, 

 ' mark the varied colour of the foliage for half the 

 year.' But, after all, it is only in Britain and our 

 moist island climate that bare mountains can be so 

 perfect in their semi-nudity, or again can loom so 

 grandly for their modest altitude, that survey measure- 

 ments become things of nought. 



Angle tarn is of a peaty quality, and the trout rather 

 dark to match. I remember a terrible morning with 

 them some years ago when the water in a lovely 

 ripple was literally a-boil with rising fish, and not a fly 

 in our books would they look at. Darkish-coloured 

 small flies are in favour on all these tarns. It is well, 

 too, to use drawn gut in fine weather, unless you 

 prefer, as I do, the finer brands of the new substitute 

 for gut. Angle tarn on a stormy day, however, can 

 be as boisterous as any of them for its size. I well 

 remember a whole day of severe buffeting from wind 

 and rain, and how thankful we were to crawl into a 

 natural cave at the west end of the lake to eat our 

 luncheon. We were rewarded, however, for our 

 endurance by quite a fair basket. It may also be 

 added that there is always a chance of seeing the wild 



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