CHAPTER IX. 



A DRY-FLY TOUR IN THE NORTH. 



AFTER a railway journey of 340 miles at express- 

 speed an angler bent on dry-fly sport in new 

 surroundings alighted from the train at Carlisle at 

 0.5 p.m., in order to change and rebook for 

 Elvanfoot, on the Caledonian line, and it was a 

 little disappointing to find that, after all this hurry, 

 there would be no train until the following morning 

 at 7.20. However, to make the best of what could 

 not be helped indeed, good came of it I secured 

 a bed at the Great Central Hotel, dined there, and 

 as soon after as possible sallied forth to take a 

 cursory view of the city, and as my steps would 

 naturally trend towards the riverside I took my 

 greenheart rod in its case and all other requirements 

 with me, so that if I saw any promising rises of 

 trout in the Eden I might try to bring a sample 

 brace to net. A fisherman was already on the 

 warpath working down-stream, with rather a large 

 tail fly and four droppers on his cast. He had 

 caught one chub and one trout. Sportsman's 

 etiquette forbade that I should " take his water " ; 



