FISHING AT HOME AND ABROAD 



Again, there are certain rivers, or places in them, where salmon 

 must be sought with sunk bait or left alone. Such is the Foss Pool 

 of the Norwegian Aaro, a river renowned for heavy fish, although 

 its whole course from the foss (above which salmon cannot go) to 

 the sea is only about a mile in length. The said Foss Pool is a swirling 

 cauldron of immense depth; fly-fishing is out of the question, and nobody 

 will question the legitimacy of offering the only class of lure that can 

 produce any result. But the legitimacy, or at least the expediency, of 

 raking with minnow or prawn a river where salmon rise freely at the fly 

 is not so apparent. 



It cannot be doubted that fly-fishing causes a minimum of disturbance to 

 the fish in any stretch of water; whereas the flinging of a leaded bait made 

 to traverse the actual lie of the fish must create a maximum of disturbance. 

 Consequently if A is fishing a cast with fly from one bank it manifestly 

 impairs both his enjoyment and prospect of sport if B — a bait -fisher 

 — is plying, or has recently been plying, his craft from the other bank. 

 It is quite true that, under certain conditions of weather, especially early 

 in the season, salmon that refuse to rise at the fly may be taken with 

 spinning-bait; but these occasions occur far less frequently than is alleged 

 by advocates of bait-fishing. By far the greater part of my salmon-fishing 

 in British waters has been in February, March and April, the months 

 when spinning baits are most in vogue, and I have repeatedly compared 

 the results of my exclusive use of the fly with those other baits used by 

 my companions. These results usually balanced each other. I can re- 

 member one occasion only when bait beat fly hollow. That was in the 

 bitter weather of April, 1904, when the late Lord Percy and myself fished 

 the Spey at Wester Elchies for a week. It blew hard, with frequent 

 blizzards, the whole time; he took nine salmon with gudgeon, while I 

 killed but one with the fly. 



Per contra: Fishing the Teith on February 17, 1871, I killed on the 

 fly three salmon, 18 J, 18 and 16 lb., and lost a fourth; whereas Lord 

 Moray's keeper, fishing the same water on the same day with spinning- 

 bait (reputed to be the only useful lure when there is snow in that river), 

 failed to touch a fish. 



The Tay is a river where, in the spring months, anglers are told to rely 



mainly on spinning-baits. How groundless is the belief in their superior 



attraction even when the water is full of "snaw broo'," let the following 



register of salmon killed on the fly only by three rods in the Isla-mouth 



64 



