108 CHATS ON ANGLING. 



grilse or small salmon with your small rod and forty yards of line, then 

 the sport you get will be worth living for, and will often recur to your 

 remembrance in after times. You will need all your knowledge and 

 resource not to be broken ; you will in all probability have no gaff with 

 you, and will have to tail him out, or, better still, persuade him to kick 

 himself ashore on a shelving beach when played out. And it is extra- 

 ordinary how little pressure of the rod is needed in such cases to keep his 

 head the right way, and each kick and wriggle sends him further up the 

 beach. Then getting between him and the river, having laid down your 

 rod, you can put him out of his misery and despatch him. 



A few seasons ago, when grouse shooting in the North, I was kindly 

 given an opportunity to fish the Glentana beats of the Dee. The river 

 was low, and as it was then early September, what fish were up were 

 red and ugly, but a change to the river side was welcome, and I had 

 never seen the pools in that part of the water. So, donning my waders, I 

 took with me a ioft. 6in. rod, cane-built, by Walbran, some light grilse 

 and trout casts, and the smallest grilse flies I had by me. I also 

 fortunately put in my bag a small box of Test flies. Nothing had 

 been done for days in any of the Ballater waters, or indeed in any part of 

 that brawling river Dee. The few anglers who had gone out had 

 religiously kept to the orthodox salmon rod, salmon gut, and big flies, and 

 had caught nothing. When I got out of the dogcart and put up my little 

 rod I noticed a smile upon the river keeper's face, but nothing daunted 

 thereby, I followed him down the slopes to a beautiful pool below. 



I put on a baby Jock Scott, and fished the pool most carefully. 

 At the tail of the pool a big red fish gave a sullen kind of plunge, but not 

 at my fly, for it was not near him at the time. I put the Jock Scott 

 over him without result, and then tried him with a tiny Silver Doctor; but 

 he ignored that also ; and so I wandered down from pool to pool, learning 

 a good deal of the river bed, owing to the lowness of the water. After a 

 bit, I saw what I took to be the rise of a trout on the far side, so 

 taking off my " Doctor," I opened my Test fly box and examined its 

 contents. I hit off a gold-ribbed hare's ear, dressed on a oo hook, which I 

 thought might do, and wading out, had to make my little rod do all 

 it could to reach the required spot. I fished the water above first, in 

 order to soak my fly and make it sink. When I reached the place where 



