DRY-FLY MEDITATIONS 71 



without its point. I repaired damages, put on a 

 medium olive, and took the utmost precaution to avoid 

 hitting the copse any more, with the result that the 

 olive got doubled up by the wind, cracked off, and flew 

 into space. 



I then decided that the orchard was not a good 

 place, and went away downstream to look for a better. 

 At last I came to a spot where the stream widened out, 

 flowing deep and rather quiet under my own bank, on 

 which were three little bushes, and just outside each 

 bush a fish was feeding. Here the wind promised to 

 be helpful, so I hurriedly put on another tup and cast 

 at the lowest trout. But the wind helped too much ; 

 line and fly fell in with a heavy splash, and the fish 

 went down. Number two went down in the same way. 

 Number three, however, was covered properly, rose, 

 plunged, and was gone. Then I examined the fly, and 

 found that it had neither point nor barb, a fact of 

 some importance that should have been ascertained 

 earlier. After this for some time I saw no more rises, 

 but about one o'clock the fish began to move on a 

 shallow lower down. In three minutes they were 

 boiling all over the place, and in five I had lost my 

 nerve, casting wildly against a wind which shrieked 

 almost straight across the river, striking with frantic 

 futility whenever a trout mumbled at the medium 

 olive which I had put on, and generally making an 

 exhibition of myself. I had a premonition that the 

 rise would be a short one, and in consequence a wild 

 desire to make the most of it, which was fatal. During 

 the half-hour I only landed one fish, and that was a 

 lean fellow, which it would have been a pity to kill- 



