228 THE TROUT ARE RISING 



foolish because of the sun. When fly-fishing, 

 one may stand some time in practically the same 

 position, and if the trout are rising one is apt to 

 be oblivious of other matters. My legs began to 

 burn, but still I went on, until an accident com- 

 pelled me to stop. Sport was good, and I sat 

 down on the bank-side to exult over my catch. 

 Whether it was because I weigh a good deal or 

 because the ground just at that particular spot was 

 cracking I know not. Anyhow, something gave 

 way and I fell flop into the river ! Fortunately it 

 was shallow, but, as against that, there was a sharp 

 stone, with which my left knee came into sudden 

 contact, ripping the flesh severely. My limbs 

 were now the colour of " where the rainbow 

 ends," and I had no alternative but to return at a 

 crawling pace to the farm. How good and kind 

 were Mr. and Mrs. Ross, and their family. 

 They bandaged me up, and generally put me 

 under repair : but there was no sleep for me that 

 night. The legs still burned from the heat of the 

 sun, the wound on the left knee reminded me 

 that it is not always safe for a fat fellow to -sit 

 down by the side of the river. 



Further fishing being impossible, I went back 

 to Johannesburg. With the optimism of thirty- 

 years I then began to bicycle, until a friend (Mr. 

 Birch, chief clerk then on Lord Milner's staff) 

 insisted on my seeing a medical man. Mr. Birch 

 spoke of the possibilities of gangrene and other 

 cheerful prospects. Therefore I went to a 

 Johannesburg doctor an old friend, who married 



