A DAY ON CLYDE 235 



not only because of its size and quality, but also 

 for the care that must be exercised, the delicacy 

 that must be displayed, before its capture may 

 be effected. 



Having made certain that the Badger is abso- 

 lutely dry, and that every part of the apparatus 

 is in readiness, we switch the fly across to the bank. 

 It alights softly close to the edge and about a foot 

 above the floating bubble, and slowly down it 

 comes, the line obedient to the gentle current 

 gradually straightening out. The fly with its 

 white glinting points suggesting the wings of the 

 tiny smut is quite visible, as fortunately it rides 

 clear of any foam-fleck. Will it reach the fate- 

 ful spot before, in reply to the floating, pulling 

 line, the fatal drag supervenes ? 



As if in answer it suddenly and silently vanishes, 

 but we are all-prepared for this event, and almost 

 as quickly the horizontal rod flashes downstream. 

 The trout is hooked. It bolts below, making the 

 reel sing and the line hiss through the rings. Not 

 knowing yet the foe we have to deal with, we 

 hasten, with rod held high and eyes on the line 

 cutting through the water, to the gravel, in an 

 endeavour to get below the captive, a manoeuvre 

 which we always strive to carry out, as surely 

 it is advisable to make the water assist the rod 

 and not the trout. 



The dour fighter comes to the top and lashes 

 wildly, shoots across the pool in an attempt to 

 reach a submerged mass dislodged from the bank, 

 now cruises sullenly about the depths, without 

 warning tears through the slimy shallows as if it 

 would end the battle by throwing itself upon the 



