52 AN OPEN CREEL 



The other grayling would not take it, though several 

 of them came and inspected it. Then I suffered it to 

 sink and tried it under water. Again the big fish took 

 it, and again I missed him. With another I had 

 better luck, and after a brisk fight got him to the bank 

 one pound six ounces. But I could not get a third, 

 though the fish, one or other of them, would inspect 

 the fly every time it came down. Also the wind got 

 worse, and it was more difficult to see what was going 

 on. At last I gave it up and went down to the shallow 

 below the bridge, where I knew another shoal had 

 its home. Here the wind was very bad, and I could 

 not see the fish at all, though an occasional rise showed 

 me where they were. Fished dry, Brunton's fancy pro- 

 duced three short rises, and fished wet accidentally one 

 fish. I can take no credit for him, as I found he was 

 on when I attempted to recover the line. Though he 

 was no bigger than the first, he gave a splendid fight, 

 and was netted with difficulty as the fly came away. 



After this the wind got worse and worse, and I gave 

 up grayling fishing as a bad job. A worm used on 

 Stewart tackle in a hole at the bottom of the fishery 

 on the chance of a perch would be less of a tax on the 

 temper, and scarcely less remunerative than the dry 

 fly. So after lunch I sat waiting for the perch to begin 

 for pretty well three hours. One bite only rewarded 

 rny patience, and a gleam of silver as the light fly-rod 

 bent to the strike showed that the biter was no perch. 

 It proved to be a beautiful dace, which brought the 

 spring balance fairly down to the one-pound mark. 

 Such a reward was worth all the patience of waiting. 

 At last, as no more bites came, and as the wind was 



