94 CHATS ON ANGLING. 



was a rush of ardent anglers, and the dozen or so of good pools — nice 

 water for two rods — was perfectly inadequate to accommodate the six 

 keen fishermen who had arrived to try their luck. It was necessary, 

 therefore, to " straw " for the pools, and to my lot fell the Bridge and 

 Yellow Pools. The next morning, on reaching my little beat, I found 

 the Yellow Pool far too low to be fishable, and there remained only 

 the Bridge Pool. Fishing it down carefully twice produced no result, 

 so I lit a pipe and clambered up on to the railway bridge to scan the 

 water below me. 



I was able, after a careful search with shaded eyes, to locate three 

 fish, all low down on the far side, lying behind a big stone below the 

 water and upon a slab. I could see at once that to reach them I 

 should have to do my utmost in the casting way, and should have, 

 moreover, to bring my line up through the centre arch of the bridge 

 above me to get out the length I wanted ; but it seemed to me that 

 if I could get my fly to travel and work well over the oily water 

 formed by the stone it ought to be irresistible to any well-conducted 

 fish. So, putting on a small Thunder, I regained the water side. The 

 second cast brought up the smallest of the three fish, who made no 

 bones about it, but hooked himself handsomely, and was shortly after 

 disposed of in the tail of the pool ; he weighed a bare 9 lb. The 

 other two I knew were better fish ; one I had seen should be over 

 20 lb., the other, a very pale-coloured fish, I could not see distinctly 

 enough to form any idea as to his weight. Back I went to my spying 

 point, only just missing being caught on the narrow bridge by a passing 

 train, to see, to my delight, that the other two fish were there, apparently 

 undisturbed. After a few casts the fly went exactly as I could have 

 wished, and there was the answering boil. " By Jove ! that is the big 

 one I think ; anyway, he is hooked, and well hooked, too." After a 

 long, splashy fight in the pool I got on terms with him, and he began 

 to flounder, and then I could see I had the light-coloured fish on. The 

 big one was still there, I hoped. The pale fish soon came to the gaff, 

 and, getting it nicely home with the left hand, I hauled him on to the 

 bank, a good fish, and in good condition, turning the scale at barely 17 lb. 



By this time the pool had had a good doing, and I judged it 

 advisable to give it a rest. The Yellow Pool, which I had fished down 



