DAYS WITH BASS 



recur whenever I hark back to the memories of struggles with 

 this gallant fish. 



The first of these is a pleasant estuary in the soft West 

 Country. It is narrower than the embouchure of the neigh- 

 bouring Exe, and less picturesque than the last seaward reach 

 of the Dart, but for its bass-fishing it is the equal of any other 

 estuary on all the south coast, from the Foreland to the Land's 

 End. Here, then, running swiftly down from the misty tors 

 of Dartmoor, the peaty water of the Teign, gradually merging 

 in the clearer brew of tidal origin, comes, beneath a long foot- 

 bridge and past tiers of shipping moored beside a bank of ooze 

 famed for its cockles, to its goal, meeting it beside a guardian 

 crag of red rock sparsely crowned with trees of recent planting. 

 The estuary of the Teign, a typical moorland stream in its 

 upper waters, has always been famous for its salmon, but the 

 bass have been known chiefly to those who, ever since, nearly 

 half a century ago, the late Mr. Wilcocks, author of one of the 

 few classics of sea fishing, used to fish for them from the Point, 

 just opposite the Ness, have likewise enjoyed the best of sport 

 with these fish all the summer. It is about the end of April 

 that the early shoals of small " school " bass begin to ascend 

 with each tide as far as Coombe Cellars, the little riverside inn 

 which figures in one of Baring Gould's Devon romances ; 

 and the big fish follow five or six weeks later, providing sport 

 throughout June and July and, with diminishing chances, 

 down to the early days of partridge shooting. As soon after 

 daybreak as the enthusiast can get on the water is the best time 

 of day for the sport, and many a good fight I have had with 



225 P 



