MAYFLY ON A SURREY STREAM 161 



had had two short rises at a Welshman's button, 

 caught one unsizeable trout and a dace, and seen one 

 Mayfly. I began to think that those pessimists who 

 had said that the Mayfly was a fraud on that stream 

 were right. Crossing the bridge, I came to a reach 

 where for about a hundred and fifty yards the stream 

 runs in lively fashion past a row of willows which line 

 the other bank, and is fairly deep here and there at 

 their roots an ideal stretch for a trout or two. Here 

 I saw two or three Mayflies, and also some rises, but 

 obviously only from small fish. Then I heard a plop 

 from somewhere in the shade, and knelt down to 

 investigate. Presently down came a Mayfly, and, up 

 in a dark corner behind the bole of a tree, came a 

 trout ; the distance between his head and tail showed 

 him to be a good one. A hackle Mayfly was soon tied 

 on and floated down, and immediately I was racing 

 downstream attached to something heavy and active, 

 which made great efforts to get under the roots of 

 each tree it passed. A long, strong fight ended in 

 victory for me, and I gloated over a beautiful yellow 

 fish of just over one and a half pounds, whose only 

 blemish was a mark where he had at some time been 

 pinched by an otter. He had scarcely been placed 

 on a bed of dry rushes in the creel, when, about thirty 

 yards higher up, there was another plop, and a fly 

 was at once despatched to the spot. Up came 

 something with alarming suddenness, and a similar 

 suddenness on the part of the rod left me a fly and 

 a fish the poorer. It looked like a two-pounder, too. 

 One more rise, and a good fish rolled over, and it 

 was lunch-time. I went on to join the little company 

 ii 



