260 DRY-FLY FISHING 



but later with a grudge. We put on a little pressure 

 and recover ; the trout would fain remain in the 

 current, when it is denied the still depths, but we 

 insist as strongly as we may on it coming between 

 us and the shore. It essays little rushes, finishing 

 each with a high leap ; then it begins an unpleasant 

 tugging action which threatens the gossamer cast, 

 but, bringing it round with the straining rod, we 

 slowly let it fall back to the sunken net. Proudly 

 we bear it to the bank, and transfer it to the bag, 

 a bonnie trout well over half a pound, a modest but 

 very suitable beginning to a grand day. 



Feeling full of guile, we remove the Black Midge, 

 and for it substitute a duplicate of the death-dealing 

 fly. Out again more confident than ever we go, 

 casting as fancy directs over the stream, waiting 

 and watching for a promising mark over which to 

 place the flies. In a minute or two it is granted. 

 From where we stand it is a long cast and the water 

 is here already lipping the waders, so that we dare 

 not venture farther. Pulling off line we make 

 the attempt and overshoot the mark with the tail- 

 fly, but the dropper comes to the rescue, rectifying 

 the mistake and falling softly and precisely on the 

 spot. The trout rises again and is hooked. It 

 seeks safety upstream in the fast-flowing water, 

 but that part is still to fish and must not be dis- 

 turbed. Who knows what it may yield ? We turn 

 the fish by a sidelong pull and force it to come down. 

 It is even livelier than the first, though a trifle 

 smaller, but in time it is our own. Taking no risks, 

 we wade ashore and lay it beside the other, a bonnie 

 brace indeed. We feel quite cheery ; this is to 

 be our great day on Tweed. 



