208 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



causing a continual fall into the deep pool below. 

 Round the sides, where the eddies swept, many pike 

 were sheltered by the great flags and rushes. The 

 owner of that place had a pious horror of fishing and 

 of those who fished. The place haunted my imagina- 

 tion to that degree that nothing would satisfy me 

 until I had visited it rod in hand ; but how was I to 

 manage that? It would not do to cross this fine 

 domain, for one or other of his workmen or keepers 

 was sure to be afoot, morning or evening. The 

 river was narrow right up to the basin of the weir. 

 At that spot it formed a circular pool. The other 

 portion was covered in by high banks on either side 

 and trees. If any person on the river kept very quiet 

 he might escape observation, so I decided to go up 

 there in a boat, a good mile and a half from the part 

 where I had leave to fish ; and started early one fine 

 morning with a companion. 



Autumn had just begun to change the colours 

 of the leaves. By farms and meadows dotted with 

 cattle we quietly pulled, under rustic bridges, through 

 more meadows, by the manor farm, under the bridge 

 which carried the road to it ; and then we were fairly 

 in the bend of the river that led direct up to the old 

 weir. The rods had been got ready before starting, so 

 as to be in order for action directly we reached the spot. 



