BLANK DA YS. 79 



Whip away under the rushes of the opposite 

 bank. There ! two or three tidy fish have 

 already run up out of the shallow, so that your 

 hours of failure are pursuing you, or rather you 

 are pursuing them. The next stretch is cold 

 and windblown, a row of stakes is on the left, 

 and shallow water at your feet. You are no 

 good at left hand casting so it seems utterly 

 hopeless to go on. That fish you have lost 

 the only bit of sport enjoyed all day is on 

 your mind, and it may be well worth while 

 after a pipe-filling pause to approach him 

 again, this time from above, with a long line 

 and a wet fly. If he is not in situ but has 

 retired with toothache another may have taken 

 his place, and I quite agrtee that the laborious 

 detour through the meadow and over two lots 

 of barbed wire, in order to again get below 

 him, seems hardly worth the trouble under the 

 circumstances. 



Fish down the run with a hackle fly for 

 choice a drowned female blue upright is as 

 good a pattern as any and hope to attract a 

 non-feeding fish. It is a forlorn game I know 

 on such a day; but if you cannot get one by 

 orthodox means you must try for a fluke. 

 If you have reason to believe that the run 

 contains good trout put on a dopper. It 

 may be more attractive in a place like this, 

 especially in the broken water. Probably a 

 small fish will rise at it almost at once and you 

 will notice his whole yellow form turn over the 

 cast although scarcely a check comes to the line. 



