A DAY OF TRIBULATION 123 



to deal with, especially if, as in my case, the tail-fly 

 is fixed in a wading-sock, the first dropper in the 

 landing-net, and the second in the small of one's back. 

 It took me some time to rearrange matters, to replace 

 the second dropper, which broke when I was taking 

 off my coat, and to hunt for the four red spinners 

 which I had the misfortune to lose when I opened my 

 fly-book. But at last I got to work again, and began 

 to realize that, in spite of the gale, the fish were rising 

 in a remarkable manner. Almost every time the flies 

 touched the water I could feel a pluck, but never a fish 

 hooked himself or allowed me to hook him, until at 

 last a big fellow took the tail-fly with a plunge. 



There may be men who, during a gale, can control a 

 three-quarter-pound trout at the end of a long line down- 

 stream in rough water on gossamer gut, but I am not one 

 of them, and very soon I was searching for the six hare's 

 ears that had been blown out of my book while I was 

 selecting a new tail-fly. I did not find them, and there 

 is no need for me to describe the search. It resembled 

 the searches that had preceded it and those that came 

 after. Never in my life have I lost so many flies in 

 one morning, and I believe that I have never risen and 

 lost a greater number of fish. They seemed madly on 

 the feed, and had it been only possible to fish upstream, 

 I am certain I should have made a big basket. As it 

 was I pricked trout, played them, lost flies in them, 

 and did everything but land them. Finally I left a 

 whole cast in a bush over deep water, and retired from 

 the unequal contest. I judged it well to give myself 

 time to get calm, if that were possible, so I withdrew 

 to the foot of the moorland hill, sat down with my 



