Notes and Sport of a Dry -Fly Purist. 103 



practice. But the result each time was better than 

 I expected. 



As I was landing the first hooked fish 

 (unfortunately a trout looking to be over 21b. in 

 weight) the loud report of guns in my vicinity made 

 me fearful that, as I was kneeling half hidden in 

 the sedge, I might inadvertently be shot ; and to 

 avoid the chance of it, for accidents soon happen, 

 I rose and crossed over to the back stream safely out 

 of range. Fish were here rising very freely to small 

 Ephemeridse with pale yellow wings as they floated 

 down the shallow glides, and over beds of green 

 weeds within a few inches of the surface, or on 

 deeper water swirling near the east bank, on which 

 I stood. But as everywhere the stream was running 

 rather wildly, one's artificial fly only floated for an 

 instant without dragging ; then it was hurried down 

 in an unnatural manner. The consequence was 

 that all one's skill was needed to counteract this 

 difficulty happily, as it turned out, with good effect, 

 for I had no necessity to range more than a few 

 hundred yards all the time, and my casting over 

 breaks on the surface was almost continuous. But, 

 of course, my oft-presented tiny bunch of feather 

 and a hook could not be expected to be seized as 

 often as the natural flies, hence delays between 

 captures were inevitable. But it was simply 

 delightful, and the acme of fascinating sport in this 



