134 THE PIKE 



in the Thames came at a spinning bait, but I had the 

 misfortune to lose them both. I was fishing near 

 Weybridge one winter, cast my spinning tackle across 

 the river to the edge of a reed bed, and clearly saw a 

 huge fish come out from among the reeds and seize 

 it. He stayed sullenly close to the top of the water 

 for a moment or two, and I could see his wicked eye 

 and every mark on his long green and yellow body. 

 There was no great strain to speak of on the line, 

 but suddenly the gimp went close to the bait and I 

 have no doubt was cut between his powerful jaws. 

 With the second fish I was even more unfortunate. 

 My rod, an old favourite which I ought long before 

 to have discarded, broke in half when I struck. 

 Within a month of this misfortune a professional 

 fisherman caught an exceedingly big jack, well over 

 20 lb., in the same corner. Very possibly it was my 

 fish. 



But spinning, to be successful, must be properly 

 carried out. A man who fishes ' a little,' if offered a 

 day on a friend's water, as likely as not goes into a 

 tackle shop and asks for a trace. He is given one 

 much thicker than it ought to be, with three or four 

 swivels dotted about it at even intervals. Strung in 

 the middle of it is a pipe lead of considerable weight. 

 He next asks for something new in pike baits, and 



