276 DRY-FLY FISHING 



In answer to the invitation of the quiet water we 

 substitute a Black Spider for the Greenwell, but 

 we allow the lucky Olive to remain. Success is 

 immediate ; a good trout, dark in colour but lively 

 enough, makes the fatal mistake, and the Olive 

 scores another victory. Almost as soon as we 

 could desire a fine golden trout of slightly larger 

 size falls a victim to the same pattern. 



Then follows a succession of rises missed ; the 

 small fish, of course, take a firm hold, but their 

 larger brethren annoy us. We shorten line, we 

 hasten the strike, we cast straight up in front ; but, 

 in spite of all, the irritation continues, and we move 

 onwards to the next pool, pleased to learn that so 

 many trout have escaped the snares of poachers. 



This has never been a favourite of ours, but hence- 

 forth it will be, and we shall hereafter fish it with 

 the greatest care and attention. Similar in appear- 

 ance to the last, it is rather faster and more shallow, 

 and one would not expect it to be the home of any 

 but the smaller trout. Gradually upwards we go, 

 searching only the centre of the waving current. 

 Beneath the Olive we see the gleam of a golden 

 flank. We lift gently to the strike, the hook sinks 

 home, the rod curves to a strong resistance, and 

 the trout makes one long, fierce, thrilling rush right 

 into the foaming neck. 



Already we know we have something beyond 

 the usual to deal with, and we seek the dry gravel. 

 The fish comes towards with a glorious, stirring, yet 

 dangerous dart through the shallows, across to the 

 depths and secret difficulties of the high bank, 

 downstream with heavy pull on the line, then it 

 rests at the surface as if to recover breath, and we 



