312 WHAT I HAVE SEEN WHILE FISHING 



and then on to the strictly preserved waters of 

 Eynsham ; a day or two here, if you can spare 

 them, and, if possible, let's on to Lechlade. Then 

 right-about-face homewards, fishing each and every 

 good swim discovered during our up-stream travels. 



Space forbids my writing of the Thames from 

 Cricklade down, so I will choose a portion that 

 holds every kind of fish and tell you where and 

 how I tried for each. For this purpose we will 

 go from Egham Lock to old Windsor Weir ; and 

 we will start from Egham quite early, say six A.M. 



It was just about that hour some years ago that 

 a friend and I approached this lock in a punt. It 

 was a winter's morning and we quite suddenly 

 determined to shoot the weir instead of waking the 

 lock-keeper. 



The weir was being repaired ; it always was, 

 and is still. Huge piles had been driven in the 

 river's bed, against one of which, in the semi- 

 darkness, the tail of our punt was driven, and, in 

 response to this blow, her head swung round 

 and toppled the punter into the very edge of 

 the tumbling water, over which he disappeared. 

 Fortunately, in my truant days I learnt to swim. 

 It was Tommy Hoole, whom you should remember, 

 for he worked hard and long for London anglers, 

 who got the fright ; he was left in the punt, which 

 was stuck between the piles, to wonder, so he said, 

 if he should ever again see me alive, and to rebel at 

 his utter helplessness. 



