DAPPING ON LOUGH DERG 



to dap in my boat. It had been blowing and raining during 

 the night, but with the morning the wind moderated, and the 

 sun came out. The lake was moving in long rollers crossed 

 by those stretches of foam that the experienced dapper loves 

 to see. It was obviously a fishing day ; and as we pulled to 

 our beat we noticed several rises ; while every now and then 

 a green may- fly, freshly risen, scudded past along the waves. 

 The " white crows," as terns are called thereabouts, followed in 

 our wake, swooping down continually to pick up one of these 

 tempting mouthfuls. Altogether things looked promising, 

 though the going was none too easy. We made our tryst 

 eventually, went about, and let our lines go. 



We had a peck or two — but the fish were coming short, 

 until presently a very fine fish jumped clean out of the water, 

 but outside our course. We drifted on ; and then, as I looked 

 back, I saw the fish rise again, evidently feeding greedily. 

 This decided me ; and pulling the boat round, and well out- 

 side of where the big trout was disporting himself, we drifted 

 down on him again. Fortune favoured me. As we reached 

 his locale, he came at my fly like a terrier pouncing on a rat. 

 He was so much in earnest that I could see him on the top of 

 the water, and half out of it, as he snapped greedily at the fly. 

 He was on ! But instead of behaving in the usual manner, 

 as soon as he felt the hook he made straight for the boat like 

 a torpedo, dived under it, and came up with a rush and a whirl 

 of spray on the other side. Then he continued his mad race 

 up wind, and this saved me, for, by the greatest of good luck, 

 my line did not foul in the keel ; and thanks to my rod — a split 



59 



