A DAY OF TRIBULATION 121 



therefore, also bear the responsibility of several 

 solemn oaths having been broken, though this last 

 is not a charge that I would wish to press too 

 seriously. It would have been a pity if an oath made 

 in haste of an evening had seemed more than an 

 expression of impatience at breakfast-time on the 

 morrow. Only once do I remember really giving up 

 fishing in consequence of a malign day, and in agree- 

 ment with a vow made in the darkness of despair. 

 The events that led up to the proceeding were these : 



I was staying in the West Country for a fortnight's 

 trout-fishing at the end of April. Several days had 

 passed like some pleasant dream. The weather had 

 been perfect, and the trout of the country fairly 

 amenable, so that every evening I was able to display a 

 half-pounder or so, besides the ordinary tale of takeable 

 fish they ran about five to the pound, and one of half 

 a pound was an achievement. Therefore, lulled into 

 a kind of false security, I was ill-prepared for the day 

 when adversity came rushing against me on the wings 

 of a northerly gale. I started by trudging four miles 

 in wading-stockings and brogues, a tedious form of 

 exercise. But the day before, while taking a Sunday 

 stroll, I had seen a perfectly monstrous trout, four 

 pounds if an ounce, and he had decided my movements 

 for the Monday. However, when the four miles were 

 covered, I found that the wind was tearing straight 

 down the valley, and making it quite impossible to 

 get a fly at him. He had to be approached from 

 below, for overhanging trees almost met above his 

 haunt, and no wet-fly line could be cut into the teeth 

 of the wind. I therefore did not attempt to cover 



