EVENING ON TWEED t6g 



comes again with resounding splash, but the answer- 

 ing strike meets no resistance. How narrowly 

 have we missed triumph ! 



Out across the stream we throw again ; a gleam 

 of silver pierces the failing light, and we hook a 

 dancing fish which feels light on the rod, yet struggles 

 gamely. Impatiently we pull it to the net, as 

 we see it is but a lively smolt, about eight inches 

 in length, an exact facsimile in miniature of a 

 salmon ; tenderly we unhook it and carefully 

 lay it in the water ; it lies on its side exhausted 

 for a while, but by and by it recovers and dis- 

 appears. How different, we think, is its behaviour 

 from that of a trout of similar size, which would 

 have been away with a lightning dart the moment 

 it touched the water ! We believe that we 

 could, without breaking the law, have retained it, 

 but who would be guilty of slaughtering such 

 innocents ? 



The Rough Olive now comes into its own, rais- 

 ing, hooking, and holding in rapid succession three 

 magnificent trout, which provide splendid sport, 

 offering a vigorous resistance before they acknow- 

 ledge defeat. Two of them reach nearly three- 

 quarters of a pound each, and Tweed trout of 

 that size, taken in a strong stream on fine tackle, 

 would greatly surprise any angler who has not 

 had any experience of the river. We marvel 

 principally at the fact that these fish were rising 

 in the roughest water at the neck, where we might 

 not have thought of placing a floating fly, after 

 sunset especially, had rises to the natural fly not 

 invited us to do so. 



To hook such trout requires the greatest rapidity 



