28 TROUT FISHING 



and tugged, first gently, then with more determina- 

 tion. Later I looked out a fresh cast and a clean 

 cochybonddu. After these delays I came to the 

 ripple at the head of the pool, got a fly onto it 

 at the twelfth attempt and was rewarded by the 

 sort of " wink under water " that recalls the 

 proverb Ars longa trutta brevis, which means, 

 the longer you take to cover a fish the shorter he 

 rises. 



The next pool was round a corner. I prospected 

 with one eye (no more) and had the pleasure of 

 seeing scurrying forms. Nothing more happened 

 there, for it was only a small pool and they scurried 

 all over it. Above was a short stickle and then 

 deep dark water on which I could see beautiful 

 spreading rings often repeated. I could hear the 

 " plopping " of a really noble trout. Nothing 

 under a pound makes all that noise. But these 

 manifestations were happening in the middle of a 

 bush. Not only could a fly not be got into it; 

 it even stopped the onward progress of a by now 

 infuriated angler who had to clamber out of the 

 ravine once more. 



How often I got in and out during the next quarter 

 mile I do not know. It was very often. Now 

 and then a pool was too deep to be passed, now and 

 then it was choked with boskage, now and then a 

 fallen tree lay all across it. One thing had become 



