214 FISHING WITH THE FLY. 



tightening the line. There are days when fish cannot 

 be struck, although they are rising freely. Whether 

 they are playing or over-cautious, I never could deter- 

 mine ; whether they are not hungry, or the water is 

 too clear, they put a man's capacities at defiance. Their 

 appearance must be signalled to the eye, by that reported 

 to the brain, which then directs the nerves to command 

 the muscles to move the wrist ; and ere this complicated 

 performance is completed, the fish has blown from his 

 mouth the feathery deception, and has darted back to 

 his haunts of safety. A fish will occasionally leap up, 

 seize the fly, discover the cheat, and shaking his head, 

 jump several feet along the surface of the water to rid 

 his mouth of it, and do this so quickly as not to give a 

 quick angler time to strike. How often fish are caught 

 when they rise the second time, as then the angler is 

 more on the alert ; whereas, on the first rise, he was off 

 his guard ! How often fish rise when the angler's head 

 is turned away from his line, or when he is busy at some- 

 thing else, and how rarely are they caught ! In my ex- 

 perience, it is so great a rarity, that it might almost be 

 said they never hook themselves. In the language of 

 youth, the only hooking they do, is to hook off. 



Dr. Bethune, page 97, says the rod should not exceed 

 one pound in weight. Indeed, it should not ; and if it 

 does, it exemplifies the old maxim, so far as to have 

 a fool at one end. If we could fish by steam, a rod 

 exceeding a pound and measuring over fourteen feet 

 might answer well ; but in these benighted days, while 



