64 AN OPEN CREEL 



other angler. One of these tempted a last fish to my 

 basket, a three-quarter pounder, and the smallest of 

 the three brace. That was the end of it. I made an 

 effort to catch sundry large roach which occasionally 

 swam into view, but, beyond two nibbles at a bit of 

 silkweed, got no response, and eventually departed for 

 a very late luncheon with my seven fish, weighing 

 nearly ten pounds. Such a basket does not often come 

 my way in these hard times. 



But the day was not yet over, and more pleasure 

 was in reserve. About 6 p.m. I wandered out again, 

 armed with my biggest fly-rod, a powerful split-cane 

 of eleven feet three inches, and ready for the evening 

 rise. It did not begin till after eight, and then the 

 big trout began to rove about, making great waves on 

 the shallows. But they only came up once or twice 

 apiece, and in the splashy way which does not mean 

 business. One splash, however, was close to my own 

 bank, in a likely corner, and I waited below the spot in 

 case the fish should come on to rise properly. In due 

 course he did so ; after trying several patterns I got a 

 head-and-tail rise at a sedge, and then we raced down- 

 stream together for quite one hundred and fifty yards, 

 with intervals of leaps and cross-rushes on the fish's 

 part. With the exception of one big fish at Blagdon, 

 I have never had a trout on which was so suggestive 

 of a wild salmon ; the failing light and powerful rod 

 helped the illusion. When eventually he was out and 

 on the bank, it transpired that he, like the roach of the 

 morning, was hooked in the pectoral fin. He weighed 

 three pounds six ounces, and made a grand finish 

 to what in the circumstances I shall always regard as 

 one of the most delightful days I have ever had. 



