MINNOW AND WORM 145 



On that occasion I had a light grilse-rod and was 

 trying the fly. The fish were quite close together, 

 they fed for an hour or more (probably on minnows, 

 for they hardly moved a yard), and I nearly broke 

 my back trying to get out the extra five yards of 

 line that would just have placed the Silver Grey 

 under their notice. I failed. 



On another occasion I had better luck up to a 

 point. At about sunset a big trout showed at the 

 other end of the Hook, in the deep water off the sill 

 of the overflow weir. He was well out in tlie river, 

 and it was a long cast for a light bait. However, 

 for once in a way I did what I wanted, and dropped 

 the bleak almost exactly in the swirl. And then I 

 began to pull it home as steadily as I could. At 

 once it was plain that things were stirring. For 

 neck and neck with my revolving bleak raced another 

 bleak with hops and skips, going hell for leather, 

 while behind both came a tidy wave. My heart 

 rose into my mouth. Which was the trout going to 

 take? The race lasted to within a yard or two of 

 the bank, and then of course I knew and sorrowed. 

 While it lasted it was as exciting an experience as 

 I have ever had in fishing. Even now it almost 

 makes Thames trout fishing seem worth while. 



There are some other livers where spinning in the 

 Thames fashion with relatively strong tackle and 

 big bait pays, but in general the business is more 



