i8o DRY-FLY FISHING 



So far as we can recollect we have not fished from 

 the bank if a boat was available, except on a very 

 few occasions when gales were tossing the waves 

 about and making a voyage highly dangerous. As 

 it happens, we have no knowledge of the sensations 

 produced by an attempt to search the waters of our 

 largest lochs without the assistance of a boat, but 

 we imagine that, while a lucky choice of a really 

 good point might result in satisfactory sport even 

 on Loch Lomond, the insignificance of the little 

 area within reach in relation to the immense extent 

 within view would have such a depressing influence 

 upon us that we would be forced away in despair. 



And yet, were we afloat, we would urge the boat- 

 man to keep the craft near the self-same shore, so 

 that we could lay the flies across that hopeful line 

 that separates the black from the gold. When we 

 fish from the bank we make prodigious efforts to 

 cast a long distance out, and when we are working 

 from the stern of a boat, we strive to get the tail-fly 

 close to land. Whatever is desirable is just out of 

 reach and, conversely, whatever is even slightly 

 beyond our powers attains enormous importance. 



We prefer to fish the small loch and the reservoir 

 from the bank, and in such the trout generally lie 

 quite close to the shore. There will always be a 

 few trout, very fine specimens of course, which 

 tantalise us by day by rising just beyond our longest 

 cast, but evening brings them nearer the land, one 

 or two of them into the creel. 



When the angler reaches the scene of his conquests, 

 he must first decide where he shall commence oper- 

 ations. Seldom will he be able to fish with the wind 

 behind, as is the practice from a boat, because, 



