266 FLY FISHING 



the Itchen was a master amongst these Highland 

 trout, and in the still hour of sunset on many 

 an August evening I used to endure the torment 

 of the midges and find a rich reward. A struggle 

 with a trout of one and a half pounds hooked on 

 Itchen tackle in that fine flow of deep water, 

 amongst the rocks and trees, was no mean affair. 

 In the Easter holidays I went alone once or 

 twice to the Dart. I do not know how the 

 Dart fares now, for it is nearly twenty years 

 since I have seen it ; but in those days there 

 was beautiful trout water between Staverton 

 and Buckfastleigh, which could be fished by 

 ticket, and if one was not disappointed with 

 trout of less than half a pound, there was 

 very good sport to be had. I remember once 

 fishing a part of the river where there was a 

 succession of streams, which towards the middle 

 of the day seemed alive with little trout, rising 

 actively all over the water at natural flies. It 

 was one of those maddening days when the 

 trout rise in quantities and take no notice of 

 artificial flies. I could do nothing, and the 

 other anglers above and below me, of whom 

 two or three were in sight, were not doing very 



