THE SECRET OF THE CANAL 257 



made the reel scream as it dashed off. Such a fight 

 seldom falls to an angler's lot. The fish for some 

 minutes had it all its own way, and it was too dark 

 by now to see where the weeds and other dangers 

 were. The power of its runs was extraordinary, and 

 yet when it jumped, as it did from time to time, it 

 did not seem to be the six or seven pounds that it 

 pulled. Only at the last, when after something like 

 ten minutes the net received its own, was the mystery 

 explained. The trout had hooked itself in one of 

 the ventral fins. It was not so big as the first, after 

 all, but it was even more shapely and well fed. The 

 brace, on reaching the scales, were found to be three 

 pounds six ounces and two pounds ten ounces re- 

 spectively, and the hours of patience and effort which 

 I had expended on the trout of the canal were at 

 length repaid. 



There were no more trout from there that year, 

 but the next came tidings of two very big ones seen 

 by a keeper and others. I patrolled the bank often 

 early in the season, but I could not find them or 

 any trace of them. Then came the Mayfly time, 

 and the usual disappointment with it. Despite glorious 

 summer weather we had hardly any fly, and there were 

 only about three days on which it was the least use 

 fishing with the Mayfly small flies on the lower 

 Rennet are hardly worth considering. Still, we were 

 all supposed to be celebrating the great festival, so one 

 went out dutifully day by day, hoping against hope for 

 a hatch of fly and rise of trout which never came. 



One afternoon, after a hot and fruitless morning, I 

 had had lunch, and was strolling along by the canal 

 17 



