THE NORFOLK BROADS 265 



But the angler has no reason to be dissatisfied. If 

 he has caught nothing worth talking about in Norfolk, 

 he has had sport which in many less-favoured districts 

 would be considered marvellous, and he has proved 

 that even in the Broadland of to-day it is possible to 

 angle happily for hours without seeing a notice-board, 

 much less a tripper. But it is not safe to boast; a 

 musically evil sound catches his ear, and warns him 

 that the gnats are awaking from sleep as the sun sets, 

 and that he will be wise to pull up his poles and flee, 

 and the pulling up of the poles recalls the mud to his 

 notice. As he sculls gently down the creek a great 

 wave seems to shoot away from the boat, as though a 

 torpedo were making for the right-hand shore. The 

 wave goes steadily on till it reaches the reeds, when 

 there is a heavy plunge, and then silence. That was 

 one of Norfolk's biggest pike. There are several round 

 about the creek that are veritable monsters. 



Such is a typical day of good fortune on the Broads, 

 a day in which one is seldom idle for lack of bites. 

 There are also typical days of bad fortune, about which 

 I know, I think, everything that can be known. One 

 cannot angle steadily in a district for six weeks, as I 

 did a few years ago, without having some trying times. 

 Equally, however, one can scarcely avoid some measure 

 of good luck. 



One of the most interesting experiences was con- 

 nected with perch, fish for which I have ever had a 

 lively esteem. I had been quite unable to catch any of 

 respectable size/j owing, I was told, to their being 

 scarce. The bad ^oldjocal, custom of fishing for them 

 in what ought to be the close season, and thinning 



