50 AN OPEN CREEL 



I have had occasional days to be marked with a white 

 stone. Three of them in particular, all enjoyed on the 

 same fishery, which lies midway between Hungerford 

 and Newbury, have induced deep gratitude in a mind 

 not unduly spoilt by good fortune. The first came 

 opportunely after very trying times times of but no ! 

 this chapter is triumphant. 



It was a windy, sunny day in August when I reached 

 the little cart bridge which spans the water in the 

 middle of the fishery. My mind was set on dace fish 

 for which this part of the Kennet is famous and a fly- 

 rod was in my hand. Ambition held me in its clutches ; 

 a dace weighing a pound or more was its object. Such 

 dace in most rivers are inconceivable, but here they 

 were a possibility ; they had been caught in the past, 

 so why should they not also brighten the future ? 

 Besides dace, there were grayling to be thought of, and 

 it was, indeed, grayling which insisted on notice first. 



Above the bridge is a shallow, a perfectly clear stretch 

 of gravel, on which almost every fish is visible thirty 

 yards away or more. The three big trout which occa- 

 sionally come out from under the bridge and cruise 

 round were not there, but one long dark shape in the 

 middle of the river twenty- five yards off attracted atten- 

 tion. At first I thought it might be one of the three, 

 but after making out several other rather smaller shapes 

 near it, I came to the conclusion that it must be a gray- 

 ling, and a big one. Having waders on, I decided to 

 get in behind the shoal and attack them with a short 

 line. The water was deeper than it looked, and when 

 I got to within about four yards of the fish it was nearly 

 up to the top of the waders. This, however, was an 



