34 APPROACHING THE WATER. 



for the infernal fish to choose a pattern for 

 themselves. 



There is one point about the dry fly fisher- 

 man, perhaps in his favour, that in addition to 

 having learned to cast he has also learned not 

 to cast. This alone takes seasons of practice, 

 and accounts for many a good capture. 



That impatient laceration of the water pre- 

 serves a fishing better than any keeper can. 

 Turn three duffers on to your favourite stretch 

 day after day, and you will have more head of 

 pounders in the river at the month's end than if 

 one expert were given two days a week. 

 Owners know this thoroughly well, and, feeling 

 they can afford to give permits freely to certain 

 friends, are thus enabled to decline them to 

 others on the score that the available days are 

 alrteady booked up. So there at least is a 

 handicap in favour of the beginner with the 

 rod which a beginner with the gun would never 

 have the owners treat him kindly, letting him 

 scare their best trout with casts that make a 

 wake like a towline. 



If in the foregoing lines a hint has been given 

 of what not to do, it may be as well to add 

 some of a more positive character. Let us 

 assume you arrive at the ladder-stile leading 

 down to the river at seven o'clock on a cloud- 

 less June or July evening. The path runs 

 straight to a small plank bridge braced by a 

 steel wire, to prevent it wobbling under the 

 weight of the girl with the butter basket who 

 has just crossed it. Now do not imitate her. 



