THE DUFFER'S FORTNIGHT 213 



Butt had it, mercifully, and he came slowly and 

 doggedly back, fighting deep, and trying to get in to 

 the bank. Then on a sudden he caved in, came to 

 the top, rolled over on his side, and so into the net, 

 as pretty a four-pounder as eye could wish to see, 

 a thought long perhaps for a Kennct fish, but small- 

 headed and thick-shouldered. 



Now if Providence had stopped there it would 

 have left me with a completely happy and triumphant 

 memory of a great occasion. My biggest Mayfly 

 trout (he weighed four pounds one ounce, and I have 

 only caught one other on Mayfly which just touched 

 four pounds) would have served me as a perpetual 

 and pleasant reminder of the beauty of " sticking 

 to it." But what did Providence do ? 



It did this. Scarcely was my four-pounder on 

 the bank when a few yards higher up there were 

 more " plops," and another great trout was hard 

 at it in exactly the same way, feeding vigorously 

 on nothing. He was covered, and he rose fair and 

 square, but, alas ! a hand, shaking from the recent 

 conflict, had lost its cunning. The response to 

 the rise was too rapid, the fish evidently objected 

 to having the fly pulled away, and went down, to 

 rise no more. Marvellous to relate, twenty yards 

 higher up yet a third big fish began to feed almost 

 at once, but there was more excuse for missing him, 

 for he was right imder a willow bough, and could 



