44 THE DIPPER. 



with shortening line and rod well up, and after 

 guiding him past an ugly strand of blackberry 

 slips the net underneath and lifts out a cur- 

 vetting ten ouncer as bright as yellow amber. 



Thus we are all wooed from the cast-on-chance 

 principle towards the methods of dry fly, or at 

 least of only fishing for the rise. The pleasant 

 interlude of watching the dipper has taught the 

 angler that the successful basket filler is he 

 who is most often sitting on the bank, not too 

 close to the edge, with grounded rod, gazing at, 

 instead of constantly thrashing, the stream. 



The nest of the dipper is difficult to see but 

 easy to trace by watching the movements of the 

 birds. Towards the end of April they lose 

 much of their shyness and gradually betray the 

 close whereabouts of their bulky home. The 

 nest itself is usually some five feet above the 

 ground or water, in the opposite bank among 

 the bared roots of a tree. It looks at first like 

 a lump of debris left stranded by flood water. 

 Generally it is found just out of reach and 

 requires a boat or a bridge to get at it. I have 

 located scores which followed this description; 

 but often again it can be found under an old 

 bridge and even among the fir trunks that are 

 laid to form a weir. 



Among wet rocks near a dam or a waterfall 

 is another favourite locality. The nest is some- 

 thing between a wren's and a housesparrow's : 

 occasionally very large and straggly, covered 

 with a dome always and with the entrance hole 

 at the side, lined carefully with oak or beech 



