HAMPSHIRE WATER MEADOWS. 149 



Fortunately I did not know at the time that 

 some cattle had been struck by lightning. At 

 five o'clock being far up the water I made for 

 the only small inn there was, some three 

 quarters of a mile away, arriving to tea with a 

 rainproof coat in a state of liquefaction. After 

 an hour's rest I set off down the river wishing 

 I had taken the advice tendered me. 



The rain still continued but the storm had at 

 last grumbled itself out. Half way home a 

 change came, the rain showed every sign of 

 stopping while the sky to the westward became 

 so much brighter that it looked as though the 

 sun intended to peep through before setting 

 behind a heavy bank of cloud. There was a 

 long and broad stretch of water between two 

 bends where both banks were edged with dense 

 rushes, a deep and weedy place where sport as 

 a rule was only good on August evenings with 

 sedge flies. While watching to see if the river 

 was coloured after the rain I saw a rise, then 

 another in mid stream, small grayling no 

 doubt. The fly I had on was a medium sized 

 Welshman's button quite good enough for any- 

 thing under the unfavourable conditions. 



Going down to the lower end of the rushes 

 I faced upstream to see whether anything could 

 be done. Within the space of a few minutes 

 several rises occurred all of them far out in 

 mid stream. At the first cast a fish took the 

 fly instantly, sprang out of the water and was 

 off, a splendid yellow trout. Above him was 

 another rise, the fly pitched badly to one side 



