A SPRING DAY WITH "BOB' 57 



too deep for me, and began to fish the flat where 

 the big rise was then taking place. Watching him 

 I was surprised to notice that he only got a couple of 

 trout. 



Then, leaving the rough stream, he made his way 

 across the inner angle of the bend to the bottom of 

 the pool below. Keeping well back on the bank I 

 followed down to a place opposite his new start, 

 and expressed surprise at the failure above. " Oh ! 

 ye'll get used to that soort a thing in time. Ah think 

 they'll dea summat here wher t' flees are comen 

 doon under t' watter hauf drooned." There was 

 not a ripple to be seen on this lower pool, but the 

 steady quiet flow of deepish water, with a few little 

 ships of white froth on it, showing a quiet pace in 

 the middle, and a slightly more urgent movement 

 towards the outer, deep bend. 



" Bob's " intuition, or experience, or whatever one 

 may like to call it, was not at fault. Wading in 

 no more than knee-deep, and fishing almost directly 

 across water, from the bottom to the top of the pool, 

 he caught fish after fish. When he found they were 

 doing so well he called, " Come and tak my plaice 

 and ah'll watch ye." I felt, however, that there 

 was some mystery I could not fathom attached to 

 his method, and that it would be wise to remain a 

 looker-on and await explanations. 



