EXPERIENCES WITH " BOB ' 77 



days of strong sunlight, they were the only places 

 to be fished. 



From " Bob " I learned to love this kind of fish- 

 ing. The glamour of the under-tree water appealed 

 to me so much that I often used to stop for a moment 

 or two and admire the tracery of these speckled, sun- 

 lit trees. To lose an odd fly or two in the branches 

 was often an added pleasure, affording an excuse 

 and occasion for a short rest at the water's edge, 

 on some of the great gnarled roots of the trees. 



I have always considered such places the very 

 fairyland of fishing. The Eden has many of them, 

 and the lower Eamont still more. Apropos of such 

 places I can well remember my first boyish longing 

 for a pair of waders, and the thought of the entranc- 

 ing spots on the river that would be all my own when 

 I got them. I knew that I should then be able to 

 stand at the flashing kingfisher's front door and 

 take peeps into the dark day-time lair of otters. 



The charm of it all still abides with me, and I 

 always have the feeling, as I slide down the grassy 

 bank, through the screen of branches, that I am, 

 for a time, disappearing from the sight of human 

 eyes. Very different are these places from the 

 beaten track of the open well-fished streams. One 

 seldom finds them occupied, and frequently, as one 

 quietly fishes them on hot summer days, a weary, 



