196 FLY FISHING 



little and fished carefully down to the place 

 again Each time that I reached the mark the 

 fish rose, but I had no idea of its size till, after 

 being played for some time, it rushed to the 

 other side of the river and splashed and kicked 

 in shallow water and a very uncomfortable 

 moment that was. The second fish took under 

 water in the middle of the river at the tail of a 

 rapid stream, and for quite a perceptible number 

 of seconds both the gillie and I thought I had 

 hooked a rock. But when it did move it became 

 lively enough. Those no doubt are no great 

 events compared to the success of others, but if 

 it is a question of competing in records of bad 

 days I think I can do better. I once fished 

 every day for four weeks on a good beat on a 

 good river in the Highlands in September and 

 caught only two salmon. They were both under 

 fifteen pounds, were both red, and one of them 

 never rose at the fly at all, but happened to foul 

 hook itself by jumping on the top of the gut in 

 a swift stream. Another season I fished for ten 

 consecutive days during what should have been 

 the very best fortnight of the spring fishing, on 

 one of the best spring rivers in Scotland The 



