BLAGDON 287 



wind made casting difficult, so I made my way on to 

 the corner where the channel of the River Yeo runs in. 

 There is a short stretch of the river itself between the 

 road and the lake which can be fished. It is only 

 about twenty feet broad in most places, but it is deep, 

 and sometimes yields a good fish. Standing well back 

 from the bank, I began to cast about half-way down 

 with a short line. The fly had not travelled a yard 

 before there was a great boil, and I was into something 

 that raced away upstream like a salmon. It kept deep, 

 and I got no sight of it for some time, until it turned 

 and came back at the same pace for its starting-point, 

 and then jumped. After that it tried to bore right 

 under my own bank, but the long rod was fortunately 

 able to check that proceeding, and the rest of the fight 

 was carried on in the depths. It must have been 

 nearly ten minutes before I finally got the trout into 

 the net and carried it, exulting, back into the meadow. 

 It was just like playing a small salmon, and I can well 

 believe that the fish would have run out fifty or sixty 

 yards of line, as Blagdon trout sometimes do, if it had 

 been hooked on the shallows in the open lake. It was 

 a shapely, silvery fish, and I tried to persuade myself 

 that my spring balance and I were in accord in regard- 

 ing it as seven pounds. The too truthful scales at the 

 hut, however, would not compromise with us in the 

 evening, and it was only six and three-quarter pounds 

 then. A cup of tea and a brief rest could, now that the 

 brace was assured, be enjoyed with a quiet conscience. 

 Afterwards, I fished the river down again, caught a third 

 trout of three pounds ten ounces, and rose two others, 

 one of them evidently a big one. 



