SOME TINY WATERS 33 



out of the heather and lie at every corner, behind 

 every stone, assimilating worms as fast as jaws can 

 work and stomachs digest. Set out while the water 

 is still porter-coloured and you will seldom find 

 it more definitely tinged at these altitudes, where 

 there are no road- washings and ply your worm- 

 tackle, and you will find that the neighbouring 

 heather must have been alive with fish, some of 

 them brave fellows of five and six ounces. I 

 do not remember ever getting a veritable half- 

 pounder in one of these mountain burns, but I have 

 had fish not far off that weight, and sometimes two 

 or three in a day to help out the average. 



Now and again I have had very pretty fly-fishing 

 in one of these tiny streams, generally after two 

 or three wet days, when there is a good volume of 

 clear water coming down, but occasionally, too, 

 when the effect of a spate has almost passed off. 

 Once, I remember, when the Penydwddwr was in 

 thick red flood, having come down upon us rather 

 suddenly, I was caught unawares. It was much 

 too thick for the fly, and I had neither minnows 

 nor worms. Also, I had a very wet jacket and was 

 generally feeling morose, especially as I knew that 

 Caradoc and the rest of the party, who always go 

 prepared, must be having inglorious but solid 

 sport in the eddies lower downstream. So when 

 I came to the Forsaken Burn, and the sun came 



