THE ART OF CASTING 235 



that is, so that you can fish the cast well and thoroughly, and 

 have perfect command over your rod top and line. A greater 

 mistake cannot be made than to overcast either your throw 

 or yourself. Some anglers are so fond of making long casts 

 just to show off, that they will risk cutting a fly to pieces rather 

 than move a few yards ; others will so overcast their throw, 

 that by the time the fly reaches the salmon's home, if a fish 

 should rise, the rod is too upright or far back to allow them to 

 make a clean firm stroke the fish is only half hooked, and a 

 bungle is pretty sure to ensure. Begin with about twice the 

 length of the rod, not more, and when you can get that out well, 

 increase the length. 



It is impossible on paper to teach the tyro how to cast a 

 salmon fly. Nothing but practice will do it. Even actual 

 showing and demonstration are not of much use until he can 

 command the rod to some extent. Let him note how it is done, 

 and then flail away to the best of his ability for a day or two 

 until he can pitch the line out somehow. Then let him get 

 some adept to instruct him how to get it out properly, and to 

 correct any fault in his manipulation. After that, practice, 

 practice, practice, and watching a performer now and then 

 at work will do the rest. 



Another rule of great importance I would here emphatically 

 lay down, and that is, never use more strength or vigour in 

 making a cast than is absolutely necessary, for all beyond that 

 is not only downright waste of power, but positively defeats 

 the end the fisher has in view. Let him study, not how much 

 strength he can put into the cast, but how little ; not how much 

 noise he can make by " swooshing " his rod through the air, 

 but whether he cannot avoid making any at all. And if any 

 old angler, who has been accustomed to adopt the former plan, 

 will only try the latter a few times, I am confident that the 

 result will positively amaze him. It is astonishing how hard it 

 is at times, with all your force, to send a fly against or through 

 the wind truly and fairly, and how easy it really is to do with 

 little or no force at all. When I hear an angler's rod " swoosh- 

 ing " through the air on a windy day, as one often may hear 

 it seventy or eighty yards away, I think it very extraordinary 

 that he should never by accident have discovered that all that 

 force and noise is not only superfluous, but mischievous ; and 

 how that without it he would cast an infinitely better line, and 

 not strain his rod as he is doing. In very long throws, of course, 

 a good deal of force must be employed ; but in ordinary ones, 



