204 DRY-FLY FISHING 



welcome ; while over all the birds are happy in 

 their joyful song. 



Such is April, and not for worlds would we miss 

 its joys. Never is the world so fresh, the air so 

 sweet, or our hopes so high as we set out in answer 

 to the call. The broad flowing river claims us 

 more than does the loch, and the reasons are many 

 and good. So clear is the water that its depth 

 deceives the eye, and the very first step into it 

 may take us over the waders, and very cold and 

 uncomforting can water be ; but we can forget 

 even that unpleasantness, as we rejoice in the 

 easy working of the rod, sending out the cast of 

 flies across the broad flats just as rhythmically 

 as it did in the height of last season. 



It is wonderful how every feature of the river 

 is impressed upon the memory ; we see and at 

 once recognise every pool and stream, every stone 

 and eddying corner where in previous years we 

 gained victories or suffered defeats. 



Any day March Browns may hatch out, the 

 darker Olives are due, and towards the end of 

 the month the Iron Blue should arrive. If the 

 angler should have the good fortune to be on the 

 river when the last-named fly puts in an appear- 

 ance, he has before him a spell of deadly, delicate 

 work ; diminutive lure, fine tackle, quiet rises, 

 and lusty fights are the features which afford him 

 delight. When in doubt, owing to absence of 

 signal from the fish as to which pattern to use, 

 he should try the sunken nymph ; but, if he feels 

 compelled to use a dry-fly because of its clearly 

 visible beauties or other reason, he should affix 

 to the cast the ever-willing, always useful Green- 



