COSTA. 53 



strong determination to do. well, something, 

 but the morning brought a wind with which I 

 wrestled in vain, and which extended my line 

 like a semaphore, howling the while in derision 

 at my efforts to bring it down to the water. 

 The struggle, however, was not without some 

 little successes of mine to chronicle. I do 

 not allude to the adorning of a bush on the 

 opposite bank with one of my flies, or to the 

 masterly way I cracked off another, to be 

 borne away by my adversary into space. At 

 a place where the river turned sharply, 

 almost at right angles, a sheltering belt of 

 trees on the far side rendered a cast possible. 

 Nothing was showing, so I put a soldier 

 palmer over the water in the hope of provoking* 

 a rise. A grayling immediately accepted the 

 invitation, and shortly afterwards I rose and 

 hooked a second fish, but neither reached the 

 requisite i i inches. 



Shifting my position, I placed the fly 

 just at the bend. I watched the speck of red 

 float down to me, rising and falling on the 



