ON RIVERS 73 



landing-net, which she wielded with unfailing dex- 

 terity ; she had not yet used the rod. Many a time 

 the year before, after fishing the whole of that pool, 

 about a quarter of a mile long, without even the 

 modest reward of a rise, we had succeeded well 

 enough on going over it again. Only a very few 

 times had we left it with an empty creel, and on 

 three or four occasions we had caught more than 

 two trout. That opening day it gave not a single 

 rise. Why? My own belief is that, though the 

 pool is a favourite haunt of the fish in summer and 

 for a month or two afterwards, they are not there at 

 the beginning of the season. The rush of water is 

 rather heavy, and I think that for a good many 

 weeks after returning from the spawn-beds the trout 

 lie in places where the current is gentle. 



What was to be done ? If excessive sport did 

 not detain us, we were to take tea not far off at five 

 o'clock. It was now nearly four o'clock. Should 

 we give over for the day, or should we try that 

 other pool about half a mile down? To try the 

 other pool would be flying in the face of local 

 precepts. Even Angus, the gamekeeper, who is an 

 optimist, had declared it to be hopeless. In the deep 

 water on the south side of the island just above it 

 there are large pike, which, he and every one in 

 the neighbourhood believe, make raids. The repute 

 of the pool is so poor that nobody with local 

 knowledge deems it worthy of a serious trial. 



Still, there would be no harm in letting the flies 

 flit over it. The pool was on the way to the tea-cups. 



