THE DRY-FLY SEASON 217 



the moor into gliding flats with fine entering streams. 

 These are the waters we enjoy most on hot, still 

 days of June, waters of youth which are filled 

 with happy memories. We must go bewadered 

 now and keep dry, whereas formerly happiness 

 varied directly with the amount of mud and moisture 

 acquired. Numbers used to be the supreme neces- 

 sity ; now it is quality. The pools are not quite 

 so deep as they were, nor is the burn a river, but 

 the distances seem to have grown greater. A 

 small pink worm on two-hook tackle used to be 

 the killingf lure, but now it is the floating fly, and if 

 the angler will follow that example, he will be 

 amazed at the response. 



June is the angler's month. He can fish early 

 and late, anywhere and everywhere, in burn and 

 river, loch and mountain tarn, and find sport in all, 

 with trout in the prime of condition, but wary 

 enough to demand the cautious approach, every 

 refinement in tackle and, above all, a floating fly. 



;'. I ''., July | ,, : /, ,\'%--: 



The scent of new-mown meadow grass is heavy 

 on the air ; the tortured herd invades the favourite 

 pools ; a flickering haze vibrates across the holm ; 

 away on the open moor the shady side of a turf- 

 dike affords the bleating Cheviots a slight protec- 

 tion. The angler on the river, under the merciless 

 sun, is glad of a trout or two from the rougher 

 streams. 



It is July, a month of many disappointments, 

 but perchance a little kindness, of much labour and 

 still some possibilities. By day sport may be very 

 poor, but on occasions it may be excellent, and 



