i86 DRY-FLY FISHING 



already feels that victory is to be denied ; for the 

 hot, still air, the unclouded sky, the gleaming sun- 

 shine make him dispirited, and, long before he 

 arrives, he decides that the trout will feel even as 

 he feels. When at length he reaches his destination 

 by the water's edge, he cannot display his wonted 

 eagerness ; rather does he lie within the shade of 

 leafy trees than nervously and excitedly fit the rod 

 together. He does not show impatience at delays 

 incurred in launching the boat ; there is little 

 likelihood that anxious haste will result in him 

 entangling his cast into confusion. 



Not a single dimple of a rise disturbs the broad 

 expanse spreading before his gaze, and he begins 

 to wish that the unfortunate expedition had been 

 prevented ; but, as he watches, he feels a slight 

 breath of air. Away to the foot of the loch he sees 

 a black line stretching across, moving nearer and 

 rapidly nearer towards him. Preparations are com- 

 pleted in a hurry ; the boatman pushes off, and the 

 sound of the wavelets lapping is like the merriest 

 laughter. Down the breeze the cast flies out, as 

 the boat is driven across to the chosen drift, for the 

 angler must do something to conceal his excitement. 



Before the favoured stretch is reached, the breeze 

 dies away, and the boat is becalmed. A pair of 

 disappointed men discontentedly while away the 

 time with tales of the glorious past, but their eyes 

 silently and continuously appeal to every glen. 



In the next bay the calm surface is observed to 

 be disturbed ; oars are plied strongly for the goal ; 

 but, in answer to the invitation of a roughening 

 patch to port or starboard, the course is immediately 

 changed. A fish may be picked up ; whether or 



